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sylus — sex in a fitting room stall
sylus had simply taken you on a shopping spree with the intention of replacing your old wardrobe with brand new outfits in preparation for the new year. you end up losing count of the amount of high-end stores you had walked into and had every intention of returning home.
yet when you passed by a rather cute boutique, a dress had caught your attention, making you stop as you took in how pretty it looked.
“is that what you want, sweet dove?” sylus’s rich voice breaks you out of your reveries, and you couldn’t help but give sylus a sheepish expression. you see the multitude of bags sylus carried in each hand and pursed your lips. “i already bought so much, i shouldn’t-“
“nonsense, sweetie.” he interrupts you with a scoff, stepping into the boutique (bags and all) like he owned the damn place. a woman comes up to help, and he gestures toward the dress you were eyeing.
“my woman would like to try on that dress over there. bring over the appropriate size so she can try it on.”
she nods, heading off into the racks to grab the dress you liked as you felt the heat settle against your cheeks. once the dress was in view, she hands it to you before gesturing toward the large fitting rooms.
“take your time, and let me know if you need a bigger or a smaller size!”
you and sylus enter the fitting room, with the onychinus leader dropping all the bags while letting out a sigh. he plops down on one of the sofas, basking in your excited giggles before locking yourself into the stall.
a few minutes pass, and sylus hears the shifting of fabric (indicating that you were still changing). he waits a few beats, eyebrows now furrowing when you still didn’t come out of the fitting room.
“little dove, are you alright? why not come out and let me see how beautiful you are in that dress?”
he hears your defeated sigh when you finally unlock the stall-
taking sylus’s very breath away.
the dress had fit you perfectly (almost too well) as his eyes drank in the sight of your form, looking as though you were his wrapped up present.
“i think it’s too tight… maybe we should get a bigger size-“
“you’ll do no such thing, sweetie. you look positively divine, just like that.”
your eyes widen, and your lips were open (ready to protest) when sylus stops you. “how about i show you just how seductive you are in that dress?”
mischief was seen gleaming within his garnet eyes when he joins you in the fitting room stall, locking it for good measure before getting to work.
feeling desperate for you, he simply shoves aside your panties, fingers tracing at your pussy lips as a cheshire cat grin spreads across his lips. “you’re already wet for me, i see.”
you toss your head back, hands already bracing yourself against his broad shoulders when he begins pumping his digits in and out of your heat. biting down on your lip, you heard a few more customers entering the stalls surrounding you, making you whimper with need for sylus.
“sy, h-hurry…!”
with a click of his tongue, sylus slowly unzips the zipper of his dress pants, revealing his cock that was already hard for you. he brushes the tip of it against your swollen clit, teasing it a few times before sliding into your silky walls.
unable to keep quiet, sylus places his large hand on your mouth, muffling your moans as he rapidly fucks himself into you (desperate to chase both of your highs).
a few more minutes pass, with sylus painting your walls white with his seed as you thoroughly wet his cock with your juices. you both spend another beat in silence before exiting the stall and pretending to act like nothing had happened.
sylus carries all of the bags once more, shoving your old outfit into one of the bags before paying for the magnificent dress. either the cashier really didn’t hear them, or was maintaining her professionalism when she accepts his black card.
“i’m assuming you’d like to wear it out?”
“yes.” sylus answers for you while giving your ass a squeeze, “i’m afraid she won’t be taking off this divine dress for a while.”
zayne — (oral) sex in his office
zayne was settled back in his seat, eyes clenched shut the moment you hid yourself beneath his desk. his cock was already getting harder-
feeling the blood shoot straight down the length of his dick when he sees you kneeling oh so sweetly before him.
you had managed to unzip his pants, sliding down his boxers to reveal his cock for a brief moment before your lips were on him. he had placed a hand in your hair, simply basking in the way the tip of your tongue traced at the veins that pulsated against his shaft when a sudden knock at his door makes him gasp.
he quickly moves closer to his desk, hand already on your head to protect it from hitting the hardness of it. “dr. zayne?”
he curses, recognizing the voice of one of his residents. he was ready to dismiss him, to tell him that now wasn’t a good time-
yet he was too late.
david hagstrom steps into his office, blond hair a mess from the sheer amount of times he most likely run his hands through them. zayne was barely listening to what david was saying, needing to bite down harshly on his bottom lip when you manage to take the entirety of his cock down your throat.
he quickly hides your choked moans with a cough, resting his elbow on the top of his desk as you kept sucking on his dick. “dr. zayne, are you alright? if you’d like, i can ask greyson for his thoughts-“
“that would be ideal.” zayne told david a bit too quickly, his control quickly slipping the moment you began moving your head slightly back and forth from beneath his desk. “i have a bit of a headache, so i can’t think straight a-at the moment…!”
“of course sir, my apologies!” david gives him a swift bow before exiting his office, finally leaving zayne alone as he keeps your head still.
“what a naughty girl you are, not stopping when a student came in to ask a question.” his eyes were hazy now when he keeps your head still, now thrusting his cock in and out of your willing mouth with a fervor that makes you moan-
which ends up sending rather pleasurable vibrations down zayne’s spine.
“you need to be taught a lesson, honey.” the cardiac surgeon was gritting his teeth now, chasing his high as his balls tighten in response-
finally releasing a stream of his cum down your throat.
you meet his gaze just then, licking your lips clean of the evidence of his release. that was enough to set him off, making zayne pick up your form as he slams his lips against yours in a searing kiss.
zayne moans at the taste of him that still lingers on your lips, biting down on it as he murmurs against your skin, “don’t think this is over just yet, for we are far from being done.”
xavier — sex in a forest
it started out as just a fun little walk around the park. you were simply admiring the scenery, nearly getting drunk off of the scent of wildflowers that permeated the air.
yet somehow along the way, you ended up getting needy for each other.
was it the way the sun shone so brightly against xavier that painted him in an almost angelic light?
or was it the way xavier kept sneaking glances at you while biting down on his bottom lip? (as if he was holding himself back from something).
whatever the case was, when xavier pulls you away from the path and into a more forested area, you were unable to deny just how much you needed him.
your clothes were tossed in a messy pile in the grass, with xavier pressing you against a tree as he settles himself between the fat of your thighs. he makes quick work of taking off your panties and unclasping your bra, leaving you utterly naked for his eyes alone.
fascinated by your beauty, xavier captures one of your hardened nipples within his hot mouth, making you arch your back against the tree. you didn’t even care about the rough texture of the wood-
all you cared about was the man settled in front of you.
with your body practically aching for him, the philos prince continues to suck on your hardened nub, bringing up one of your legs to his waist before slowly sliding his cock into your heat.
your moans of his name echo throughout the area, with xavier setting an almost brutal pace as he impaled you over and over again with his cock. the squelching sounds of your union was enough to make your cheeks turn warm, yet you found yourself unable to care about the consequences.
where you decided to be intimate was at a very public park that was very crowded at the moment. yet with you and xavier so caught up in chasing your respective highs, neither one of you cared at the thought of getting caught.
and to be honest, neither one of you minded the thought of getting caught in such a compromising position.
rafayel — sex on the beach
this was supposed to be a relaxing time for both you and rafayel.
you beloved boyfriend had planned out a rather romantic picnic date on a private island he owned (gifted to him by his aunt), and you were extremely happy to share such a paradise with him.
instead of having lunch at his island cottage, you both opted to spend the entire day on the beach complete with a lunch that would satisfy both of your cravings. after having a delightful meal, rafayel suddenly lays you down against the blanket, kissing you deeply as you forgot about everything else.
soon, the kiss becomes more passionate, with rafayel sliding his hands possessively down your sides. “fuck, you’re so beautiful princess.” he murmurs against your lips before working on sliding off the rest of your clothes.
once you were left bare for him, the lemurian’s eyes darkened with a hunger he reserves only for you. placing a hand over one of your breasts, he gives your nipple a gentle squeeze, earning a soft mewl from you.
“hm… you look so cute like this.” you were dimly aware of how rafayel remains fully dressed as he leans over you, mouth already wrapped around your hardened nipple as his tongue curls around it. he begins sucking, making the heat rush through your veins as you cried out to him.
“tch… so much for taking my time with you.” rafayel removes himself from your chest, hands coming down to his pants when he shoves them down, revealing his hard cock. “those cute sounds you keep making are really getting to me.”
he picks up your form, settling you on his lap when he slides into you. you gasp at the sudden intrusion, all too eager to take him in when you bounce yourself up and down his cock. the artist ends up hiding his face within the curve of your neck, allowing you to ride him to your heart’s content with the sea as the sole witness to your love.
caleb — sex in the conference room
caleb was in a meeting with his men, dressed in his colonel uniform and everything as you found yourself getting needy for him.
as he went through guidelines and orders in that stupidly commanding voice of his, you kept shifting in your seat next to him, feeling a familiar ache between your legs as you tried to assuage it.
suddenly, caleb stands from his seat, slamming down a gloved hand against the table. “all of you are dismissed. leave now.”
the crew nods almost robotically in response, each and every one of them filing out of the conference room in a single line. once you were left alone with caleb did he address you by your full name.
your eyes widen when he turns your chair around, picking you up and out of your seat before settling you on top of the table. with your heart beating rapidly out of your chest, you watch caleb as he removes his colonel hat.
“did you really think i wouldn’t notice the way you kept shifting around in your seat? or how i can practically smell your arousal from here?”
he makes quick work of sliding down your skirt, leaving you in your panties before settling himself between your legs. even with his uniform on, you could feel the tip of his cock straining against the expensive fabric. “you really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
without waiting for your reply, he tears off the flimsy material of your panties, pocketing the torn fabric before unzipping his pants. once his cock was freed, you presses the tip of it against your heat.
“tell me how much you want it- how much you need me to fuck you back in place?”
“fuck caleb… i need you so badly! just seeing you in uniform, making all those fucking demands- it makes me want you so badly that it hurts!”
using your pleas as all the confirmation he needed, the farspace colonel impales you with his cock, setting an almost brutal pace as you were forced to brace yourself on top of the table.
“good girl, that’s m’good girl.” caleb nearly growls when he feels the way your walls inevitably clench around him, making him nearly lose his damn mind as he kept pistoning his hips in and out of your heat.
basking in your fucked-out expression, caleb leans closer to whisper in your ear, “you know… this place is still filled with my men. any one of them could walk in any minute now and-“
with a low hiss, you felt your climax hit you like a freight train, causing caleb to let out a groan when you climaxed around his cock, thoroughly wetting his dick in the process. it takes a few seconds for him to realize what had just transpired, and when he had the epiphany of what had just occurred-
you wanted nothing more than to slap the shit-eating grin from his face.
“babe, did you just squirt on me?”
choked protests of embarrassment escapes from your parted lips, yet instead of teasing you about it, he brings up both of your legs before tossing them on his shoulder. you gasp when caleb thrusts back into you, making you see stars as the man above you began to beg-
“that felt so fucking good babe, do it again- over and over again until i’m satisfied!”
end notes: i’m stressed and horn knee, so you already know what that means (⺣◡⺣)♡ this is unedited, but i need to post something bc i miss writing so much ;;
ps: technically rafayel’s might not be public, but humor me okay (⺣◡⺣)♡
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
after getting into an explosive argument about your revealing outfit, caleb follows you to the club and finds you drunk.
what happens when you get him equally inebriated, and the two of you end up dancing together—where he finds himself unable or unwilling to play only the role of your perfect Gege anymore? please read the content warnings.
━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: caleb x female reader (afab)
━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some plot, porn with feelings/angst
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 12.2k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, pseudocest dynamics/NOT blood related (Gege, Meimei, brother mentions both familial and flirtatious/teasing), voyeurism, public and drunk sex, alcohol use, dancing inappropriately, first-time calebmc, condom refusal, super unprotected, breeding kink, let me reiterate pseudocest (it's first-time, so there's a lot of mentions about it), pre-explosion au, references to canon content (lucid dreams, imperial thronesong), josephine mentions
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: ao3 | lads masterlist
━ ✧.˖ A/N: hi all! this is my fic for lethe's folded wishes caleb art event! highly recommend checking it out as there are MANY talented artists and authors taking part to celebrate our beloved xia yizhou. happy (late) one year anniversary to caleb. caleb is so unbelievably loved and i am so lucky to be able to share that love with you guys. let's keep giving him the adoration he deserves in 2026.
also i did this same prompt for a xav fic before. i am doing it again for caleb because i simply love this trope. :)
this is unbearably long and has…very little plot. you have been warned. please read the content warnings.
THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.
✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖
Caleb tosses his keys into the bowl on the entryway console, kicking off his sneakers in favor of his house slippers.
"Pips? Nainai? I'm home."
He makes his way to his room, dropping his duffel bag by his closet. His lips twist into a warm smile when you call back, your voice a welcomed reprieve after a long game of pick-up basketball with some of his old highschool friends—as he hadn't seen them since he'd left for university.
"Nainai's out, I think she went to meet some old friends? She said she won't be back 'till late."
Caleb raises his arms as he peels off his damp tank top, "What d'ya want for dinner then?"
"I already ate! Going out with some friends, so we grabbed an early dinner. There's extras for you in the microwave."
Caleb's eyebrows furrow, hearing nothing after "going out." Without even putting on a shirt, he strides out of his room toward the foot of your cracked bedroom door.
"Where are you going?"
His eyes widen when you appear in the opening of the wooden door, clearly dressed to go out—dressed to draw attention.
It definitely caught his attention, but then again that didn't take much effort on your part anymore. Ever, really.
It's impossible for his eyes not to wander, following the curve of your exposed throat and bare collar. The dress you wore had a fitted corset-like bodice that seemed to push everything up, putting you on display in ways that made him feel shameful—especially when he imagined how many other people would be blessed to see that same display tonight. It sat far above your knees, tight and leaving little to imagination—the milky expanse of your thighs hypnotizing him. As if it wasn't short enough, there was a slit on the side, taunting him with visions of what you might be wearing under—
"Caleb, where the hell are your clothes?"
You force yourself to look sideways as you snap at him, cheeks brighter than your carefully painted blush when you come face to face with Caleb's slick bare chest. He clears his throat, as if that'd physically shake the sinful thoughts out of him.
Of course, you'd seen him half-naked a handful of times—growing up together made that inevitable. But, maybe because he'd moved for college, it didn't feel natural anymore—like when you'd wander into the shared bathroom half asleep and he'd be brushing his teeth in nothing but his shorts.
For whatever reason, when it happened now, it made your cheeks burn and your chest tighten in a different, much more confusing, way.
"Where are yours?"
You raise a perfectly traced eyebrow at his question before looking down at your body, "What? I told you I'm going out."
Caleb's eyebrows crinkle, making his violet eyes look darker than usual, "Not like that, you're not."
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing? Does it look bad?"
You seldom dressed up, but ever since you'd begun university you found yourself wanting to. Wanting to experience new things. Caleb had even teased you for being some big shot, learning to fly and leaving the nest.
"Wha—No. It doesn't look bad. That's not the point," he snaps quickly. He feels his cheeks burn, hoping it'd appear to just be post-workout flush.
Your head cocks with genuine confusion at his harsh tone. But before you can question him further, he's brushing past you, his clammy shoulder bumping against your bare one. He forcefully slides your closet door open, grabbing the first jacket he sees, and throwing it at you.
"Put on some actual clothes if you're gonna go out."
The cold waterproof material of the windbreaker hits your chest before your arms close over it—completely caught off guard by his behavior. As he fishes out more clothes from your wardrobe you stomp toward him and yank him away from your clothes.
"I'm not going to wear a jacket. It's summer—it's like 80 degrees out. Besides, it'll be hot inside the club too. I don't want to sweat my ass off."
Caleb looks at you, his expression unreadable. The club. His chest throbbed with inexplicable emotions, his ears ringing as you looked at him with that fiery defiant sparkle in your eyes. It only served to make you look all the more alluring, irresistible—in ways he'd been running from for years. In ways he'd denied all his life, ways that had been becoming increasingly difficult, impossible, for him to ignore.
Especially when you dressed like that. Like temptation incarnate, carefully and specifically crafted to make his life a living hell. To turn him from saint to sinner.
And the thought of you getting groped by some sweaty drunken asshole, looking like that, is more than he can bear.
"Wear it. Unless you want me to come with you," he snaps and pulls himself away from your grip, sifting through your closet once more.
"If it'll help you get that stick out of your ass, you're more than welcome to come. I'm sure some of my girl friends would be thrilled," you snap, your temper rising. You toss the jacket back at him—so forcefully that he instinctively uses his Evol to catch it before the metal zipper can hit his face.
"But I'm not changing."
Caleb sighs with exasperation, not backing down, "Well you sure as hell are not goin' out like that."
You gape at the definitive tone of his words that brooks no argument. If you'd had even an inkling of concession before, it dissipates into thin air leaving nothing but the mist of defiance and resentment behind.
Caleb sees the disbelief on your face, his own features softening in response, "Look, I know you're all grown up, that you don't need a babysitter. But if you're gonna dress like that—"
The condescension dripping from his words prompts you to cut him off, "Everyone dresses like this, Caleb! You can't expect me to dress like I'm in middle school forever!"
You found yourself getting emotional, voice trembling with frustration as you shout at him. You'd thought you looked okay, pretty even. And, even though he hadn't said anything, your confidence and excitement were dwindling like an oxygen deprived flame.
There's a venom in your tone that hits Caleb square in his chest. Perhaps, had he been around more, your hostility might not hurt him as much. But right now, it felt like a canyon had opened between the two of you and he was desperate to close the distance.
Unfortunately, that desperation manifested in the form of unyielding over-protectiveness.
"Okay. And?" Caleb sighs, doing his best to remain calm, "If everyone starts jumping off a cliff, are you gonna do that too?!"
"M-Maybe!" you yell without thinking, your voice rising, "If it means you'll stop babying me, then I will!"
The two of you stand there, just staring at each other as you fume, completely fed up by his behavior. Admittedly, Caleb had always been a touch overprotective—he'd frequently fussed over you when you went out with friends he hadn't met or stayed out too late. You'd never forget how difficult it was for you to convince him to let you go to your first high school party.
But it'd gotten exponentially worse ever since he'd left for university. You weren't sure what'd gotten into him.
As Caleb opens his mouth to speak, your phone goes off. You push past him to grab it from the charger on your nightstand, quickly reading the text from your friend that said they were waiting outside.
"I'm leaving. My ride's here," you say deceptively calmly, unplugging your phone and grabbing your purse off the dresser. You purposely knock your shoulder into him, like hitting him might make you feel better. It never did, even though he'd let you try with all your might—taking the pathetic wrath of your fists when you were so angry with him that you couldn't stop yourself.
You're unsurprised when Caleb stops you, fingers closing around your wrist firmly. He says your name sternly, laced with clear desperation and possession that he hopes you don't pick up on.
"Don't. Don't go."
People are like this sometimes. They know their words are irrational, yet they're unable to stop themselves from saying them.
You yank your wrist away so viciously Caleb stumbles backward from the sheer shock.
"Fuck you, Caleb."
—
"God fuckin' dammit."
Caleb swears as he pushes through a throng of giggling women, clearly drunk beyond belief. He rips his arm away, recoiling at the feeling of some random girl grabbing at him.
Where the hell were you?
It didn't take Caleb long, after the way you'd left things for him, to run after you. Of course you were long gone—but he'd easily been able to track your GPS location to the new club downtown.
He curses under his breath. Why had he even come? To apologize? To throw you over his shoulder and drag you home?
Truly, he had no idea. But he knew he would go fucking insane at home, not knowing what was happening to you. If you were safe, who you were with, if some drunk asshole had his hands all over you.
Especially knowing you'd grown quite the rebellious streak, seemingly doing things just to get a reaction out of him. And in this particular setting, there was no way he could sit by and wait for you to stumble home, drunk and vulnerable.
If you even came home at all.
His jaw clenches at the thought, pushing past another horde of inebriated club patrons.
He'd decide what he had come to do when he found you—saw you with his own eyes. Saw that nothing…unsavory was happening.
It was his job after all, as your big brother. Nothing more.
His eyes light up as he catches sight of you at the bar, drawn immediately to your sparkling smile—glimmering like stars under the pulsating lights from the stage. His relief is short-lived, quickly fizzling away as he watches you accept a drink from some man he doesn't recognize, who then wraps his arm around your waist, his fingers stroking the exposed skin of your hip.
It takes him less than a second to get to you, not giving a flying fuck about the dirty looks he gets from the people he haphazardly pushes aside.
"Hey pipsqueak, there you are," he says, alarmingly and threateningly cheerful. Even despite the deafening music, you instantly recognize that voice. And even drunk, you already know what game he's playing as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, yanking you away from the…friend you'd made.
"Caleb…" you warn, unable to stop yourself from slurring—which doesn't go unnoticed by him, evident by the way his grip around you tightens. Frustratingly enough, he ignores you, instead gently prying the cocktail out of your fingers and handing it back to the man you'd been entertaining.
"Appreciate it, but my girl doesn't like cocktails, isn't that right princess?" Caleb smiles at you before turning back to the nice man who'd offered to pay for your drinks, his grin turning a sickly sweet that exuded pure malice.
You sigh, knowing you're far better off letting Caleb get his way here than to correct him. You turn to the man, offering him an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, he's right. My friends though," you gesture sloppily to the group of friends you'd come with, "Love them. I think they'd appreciate it—hic—more!"
The man gives you a skeptical look, clearly peeved at having wasted his time. He's about to speak, likely to tell Caleb to fuck off, but one single glance from your big brother has him rethinking his choices.
"U-Uh. Sure," he mutters, leaving reluctantly and taking his drink with him.
"Good man," Caleb grins, his twilight eyes following his back as he leaves, particularly fixated on his hands. Those hands had just been all over you. He should probably do something about that.
Later.
Right now, he needed to attend to you and the fury you were about to rain upon him.
Before you can turn around to wring his neck, Caleb grabs your wrists and tugs you forward, spinning you around. Your feet stumble, partly due to surprise but mostly due to your drunken state. Caleb catches you easily, scooping you against his chest and dipping down so he can whisper into your ear, necessary due to the deafening music.
"Who was that?"
Your already weakened knees wobble at the heat his breath spreads throughout your body as you pull away from him so you can look up at his face.
"You're so fucking annoying Caleb!" you snap. You were well-versed with Caleb's games—he seemed to revel in trying all the different ways he could ward men off of you. And, over the years, he'd discovered many.
Including pretending to be your boyfriend.
"What do you want? Did you come here just to scare off anyone I try to talk to? If so, you can fuck right off."
Even at your harsh words, Caleb can't help but see you as an adorable pouting duckling, the same one that followed him around all throughout his childhood—begging for his attention.
Except drunk and enticingly vulnerable—inviting the gaze of him, and everyone around him.
Caleb is infuriatingly gentle as he speaks to you, still needing to bend down to your level so you can hear him over the pounding bass of the club's speakers, "No. I came to apologize. You know I don't like it when you're upset with me."
Your crackly demeanor softens, replaced by a steady trail of goosebumps that form from Caleb's warmth. But still, you force yourself to remain steadfast—to not forgive him so easily, as you often did, "Okay. So apologize."
Caleb chuckles, amused by your drunken demands, "Will my favorite little sister forgive me for being a jerk earlier?"
Your eyes roll, and you curse yourself for the smile that you feel starting to form.
"A jerk is hardly how I'd describe it," you slur, tapping your chin and feigning deep thought.
He finds himself absolutely charmed by drunken you, "How would you describe it then?"
You know he has to talk into your ear so you can hear him over the music, but his proximity makes you giddy, "More like…a ginormous jackass. An asshole, really."
Caleb's arms tighten around you as a group of women stumble past, pushing you in their race to the bar. His arms, previously around your shoulder, had slipped to securely wrap around your waist, "Okay then. Will you forgive Gege for being a ginormous asshole?"
Your already heated cheeks flush deeper. It didn't help that he was so close to you, holding you tightly against the current of drunk people. You shake it off, offering him your best pleading pout.
"No. But buy me a drink and I'll reconsider."
Caleb tenses at that. He'd never liked the idea of you drinking. Of course, he'd assumed that when you entered university, where he couldn't watch and monitor your every move, that you'd indulge in these types of things. But seeing it, seeing his precious baby sister, firsthand was entirely different.
At least if you were going to drink, it should be with him.
"Fine, pips," he concedes, "Just one. Then I'm taking you home."
He turns to wave down the bartender, which forces him to unravel from you, much to his distaste. Quickly, he orders something he thinks you'll enjoy, brain already searching for another excuse to touch you.
"Make that two," you quip to the bartender, stumbling a bit as you turn toward the bar. You look at Caleb with a mischievous grin, "You're drinking with me."
When he raises an eyebrow at you, you add on before he can protest, "Come on! First you act like the world's biggest asshole. Then you came all this way, scare off my friend, derail my entire night. The least you can do is make sure I don't drink alone."
"Sooo, that was a friend?"
You scoff. Of course that's the only thing he'd hear.
"Yes," you say innocently, batting your eyelashes intentionally at him, "And seeing as I don't have him to drink with anymore, you'll have to do."
Caleb's knuckles turn white as he fiercely grips the glasses the bartender hands him. Just the mere thought of you accepting drinks from anyone but him was enough to send him into a blind fury. But he controls himself. For you.
"Yeah, well," he smiles charmingly at you, handing you the second glass of whatever colorful drink he's ordered, "Thank god for that, hm?"
You grin, gratefully taking the glass, wanting to push his buttons, "Yeah, thank god. He was getting a liiiitle handsy."
You squeak with surprise as Caleb pulls you closer, almost making you spill your drink on both of you. You feel someone brush behind you, some drunk stumbling toward the bar, Caleb's swift action pulling you out of their path. He catches you easily as you trip over your own feet.
"Was he now?"
The underlying threat in his tone makes you gulp nervously, simultaneously regretting your little antics and wanting to push him more.
"Yup," you purposely pop your lips, "So you'll have to fill in."
When you clink your glasses, Caleb raises an eyebrow at you, a mischievous glint in his nebulous eyes, "Fill in on…feeling you up? Scandalous, pipsqueak."
You choke just as you take a sip, wincing as the alcohol burns your nose. Caleb hadn't thought through his words as he'd said them, but your reaction makes it worth it. There was nothing better than seeing you so adorably flustered, the way your eyes widen with genuine embarrassment.
He grins delightedly, using his thumb to wipe a mix of saliva and cocktail from your chin, "'Ya'know, I don't drink that often but I think it's supposed to go into your mouth, not all over me."
"Shut up!" you swat his hand away, looking down, suddenly feeling light-headed from the alcohol, your chest and stomach feeling bubbly, "Focus on your own drink!"
Your quickly clink your glass to his for the second time, before downing the drink. It's surprisingly good, the fresh fruit juice masking the bitterness of the alcohol.
"Yeesh," Caleb sets the glass down, his face twisting slightly at the taste. He'd drank before, but he hadn't made a habit of it. In fact, he tended to avoid settings like this at the Academy, even despite constantly being invited—whether it was parties, small gatherings, or group outings. It just wasn't his scene.
His scene, of choice, was anywhere you were. So naturally, he had no reason to attend any of those things.
Of course, that meant he had a far lower alcohol tolerance than someone might expect for a man of his physique. He could already feel his cheeks flushing, mind reeling at the idea that you'd been drinking these all night.
"How many of these have you had?"
"Not e—hicc—nough," you grin at him, the straw still between your teeth as you turn to the bartender, "Could I get two more? Same thing, please!"
And that's how, several drinks later, Caleb found himself drunk—being dragged along with you into the crowd of inebriated grimy strangers, and onto the dance floor.
Even drunk, Caleb feels like he still has a good grip on his faculties—especially since he had to make sure to keep you safe and out of the arms of the plethora of men leering at you.
He bumps into you, his chest hitting your back, when you run into your friends and stop abruptly, deciding that this was the spot you wanted. He's a bit at a loss for words as he takes it all in, the club. These were the kinds of situations you'd been putting yourself in since he'd left. And he didn't like it one bit.
Caleb gives your friends a polite as they turn to him, focusing his attention back on you—not really interested in anything, or anyone, else.
"So this is what you've been up to since I left, huh?"
"What?!" you laugh, unable to hear him over the music. Despite his stormy disposition, Caleb can't help but smile, drawing you closer and dipping down to your level. His breath is warm against your neck, the faint scent of alcohol tickling your nose.
"I said, is this what you've been up to since I've been gone?"
Your knees inexplicably buckle at the warmth he spreads throughout your body, feeling the alcohol a little more than you'd thought you would—likely having one too many. Caleb's strong arms wrap securely around your waist.
"Easy, pips. I've got you," he murmurs, lips still at your ear. You can feel heat creeping up your entire body, turning your head around to make sure your friends didn't see…this.
Caleb gently grips your jaw, turning your face back to his.
"How much did you have to drink?" his tone takes on that authoritative protective brother lilt he so often used, "Before I showed up."
His eyes are glued to your lips, unable to fight off the dam of attraction the alcohol seems to have barreled through. In the back of his head, he knows he shouldn't be touching you like this, but he can't bring himself to stop. You're left speechless as his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, wiping away the remnants of alcohol.
Someone bumps into you, helping knock you out of your trance. Caleb looks over your shoulder, eyebrows furrowing into a glare as he reaches his arm out to push whoever it was away from you.
"I'm fine, Caleb," you slur, "You worry too much."
You force yourself to unravel Caleb's arms from around you, not wanting your friends to make any unwelcome judgements, feeling their eyes on you. You didn't think they'd care—in fact they'd forever been teasing you about Caleb. But still, you pull away. You miss his warmth instantly, but force yourself to stand beside him instead.
Caleb's fists clench at his sides, but he allows you to let go, "You're the one who makes me worry so much."
You grin at that, fully aware that your best talent was making his life more difficult than it needed to be, "Maaaaybe so. But you also could stand to relax a little. C'mon, dance!"
Caleb tenses at that, hating that your words echoed so loudly in his ears, making his chest tighten and breath quicken. But he forces a smile, following your lead and trying to enjoy the music and kaleidoscope of lights, and not the way you dance next to him—your body moving in ways that made his pants uncomfortably tight and his conscious guilty.
You sneak a glance to your left, heartbeat stuttering at Caleb's side profile—the way the ball of his throat bobs slightly, leading up to the sharp slant of his jaw. His damp hair sticks to his forehead, long eyelashes fluttering adorably in reaction to being tipsy. You found it incredibly endearing, not to mention hot, that such little alcohol could have him like…this.
It seemed your own thoughts had become uninhibited by the alcohol, because you found yourself thinking increasingly inappropriate thoughts about your big brother.
It'd always been…easy to rationalize your desires—you weren't related by blood, and who wouldn't have a crush on Caleb? Besides, he'd always felt like something more. Even if it was one-sided. Even if…it was all in your head.
You're so absorbed in your thoughts that you don't notice Caleb sneaking glances of his own at you. It's hard enough to stand as it is, but the sight of you gently swaying your body to the music had him wobbling from a different affliction altogether.
A ice cold wave of shame washes over him as he realizes how painfully hard he is, trying to readjust his pants discreetly—which isn't hard to do, seeing how the crowd is packed together like sardines.
Honestly, it'd been years, years, since he'd felt like this. Why couldn't he just get over it? This weird, unrequited, pathetic crush he had on his Meimei? It'd held him captive for as long as he can remember—made it so he could never quite breathe. Unless he was with you.
How long could he live like this?
"Oh!" you gasp as someone crashes into you, spilling sticky liquid against your exposed chest and into your eyes—making you yelp with pain. With little to no coordination, you nearly face plant. But instead of hitting the filthy club floor, you land against Caleb's warm and solid chest—his firm fingers gripping your waist. His thick bicep shoots in front of you to push the man away, with so much force it's obvious a certain Evol is involved.
"Watch it," Caleb snaps in a rare venomous voice that sent chills down your spine that's firm against his abdomen. The man who'd bumped into you quickly apologizes, wiping the spilt alcohol off your chest with his hands. You don't think too much of it, trying to reassure the man that it's okay, pushing his hands away.
You watch as his unsuspecting wrist is caught by Caleb's fingers, so tightly it elicits a pitiful groan from him.
"Don't put your hands on her."
You look back with surprise to find Caleb's face set in a chilling, unforgiving warning. The violet in his eyes have darkened to pools of near black, only illuminated by the club lights.
"Caleb, it's fine. It's just alcohol," you coax him, used to seeing Caleb like this—and knowing if you didn't diffuse the situation, it could escalate. In that Caleb way that was so much more terrifying than regular anger. Just silent, unspeakable malice.
It made your stomach flutter with a healthy bit of terror and an unhealthy amount of excitement.
Caleb doesn't acknowledge your words, and still not releasing the poor man's hand—jaw slack and deathly silent. It's not until you desperately place your hand on his chest that his eyes snap to yours and he instantly softens. He releases the offending hand, ignoring when the man feebly apologizes and scurries off like a cartoon character.
"Are you okay?" he murmurs into your ear so you can hear him, ignoring the curious concerned glances of your friends that now watch the way his arms have found their way around your waist again, tightening protectively.
"M'fine Caleb," you find yourself laughing, taking his hands into yours and raising them above your head, lightening the situation and exaggeratedly trying to get him to dance. Instead, Caleb pulls you back toward him by your joined fingers, then capturing your chin to get you to hold still.
"It got in your eyes," he whispers huskily, leaning dangerously closer. For a second you think he wants to kiss you, his eyelids drooping as they flicker down your face. And for the life of you…you can't pull away.
But then you flinch, feeling a cool gust of air against your burning eyeball, realizing Caleb is blowing into your eye like he'd do whenever you had something stuck in it. He chuckles as you squirm and pout, releasing your chin and spinning you back around to face the stage.
Your heart plummets in disappointment, so dazed you don't even notice the train of people cutting in front of you—causing you to nearly collide with them as you're about to put some distance between the two of you. Of course, Caleb's arm shoots in front of you, creating a physical barrier between the group and you. You can feel the cozy hum of his Evol as he seems to create a thin force field that pulses just inches from his body, keeping anyone from touching you again.
"I know you like to make me worry," he hums into your ear, breath tickling your sensitive neck, "But have some mercy on your poor Gege, hm?"
You ignore him, trying to calm the thunderous thumping of your heart, instead focusing on the music, trying to dance the intrusive thoughts away. You expect Caleb to release you, but he doesn't, still keeping his arms around but not on you—a sturdy shield of shorts, between you and anything or anyone that might be stupid enough to touch you.
Dancing wildly, your hair sways freely with the beat of the music. You're grateful for the way Caleb uses his arms to help you stay upright—but your unrestrained movements cause you to bump into them, which in turn causes him to gently enclose them around you.
For a few minutes, it feels innocent—just your brother standing behind you, making sure you don't make a fool of yourself, don't hurt yourself. You dance in front of him, the only point of contact between they two of you being his gentle palm against the small of your back the countless times you stumble into him.
But as you continue, your body continuously brushes against his in ways that are anything but innocent. You can't even fully admit that they're accidental—especially with how much you find yourself enjoying his touch.
Caleb's entire body tenses at your inadvertent grazes, your back to his chest and his arms lifted on either side of you to create a safe little cage for you to dance in. His muscles twitch with the insatiable urge to hold you, and he knows he can't keep it at bay much longer. It's like the universe is taunting him—the crowd continuously forcing you to inch closer together. He tries, he really tries, to keep a respectable distance away from you—stepping backward when you stumble into him, catching you innocently by your shoulders.
Eventually, he can't stop himself any longer.
Fuck it.
When you brush into him again, instead of letting go he simply circles his arms completely around your waist and rests his chin on the crown of your head. He can feel the way you freeze, and he swears under his breath—it sinking in that he's crossed a line that can't be uncrossed.
But you don't pull away with disgust—instead, you seem to melt into his body, leaning the back of your head against his chest. Caleb prays you can't feel his heart pounding against your skull, his fingers flexing and digging into the exposed skin on your waist.
"You okay, pips?" he murmurs into your head, his breath hot against your hair.
"Yeah," you gulp, not able to face him—ignoring the obvious, "You?"
"Perfect."
The two of you don't speak further, not willing to speak the obvious into existence and be forced to confront what was shifting between you.
It's innocent—albeit taboo. Caleb's hands remain perched on your stomach, not pushing or pulling. And your back leans into the warm security of his chest, slowing down your movement as to not create too much friction.
But the longer he holds you, the more you desire and the less you want to hold back. The fact that he won't let go of you, inhaling the scent of your hair every few minutes, makes you feel like what you're feeling isn't completely unrequited. And that alone gives you the confidence to be bolder.
Pretending to trip backward, you press deeper into Caleb, prompting him to hold you tighter. He wants to tease you, but he knew that'd backfire—he shouldn't be holding you like this, and he was in no position to be calling you out for anything.
And as you begin to dance fully on him, he found it impossible to form words anyways.
"C-Christ…" he mutters under his breath as your soft round ass presses against his crotch. Did you have any idea what you were doing to him? Were you even doing this on purpose?
He stutters your name with much effort, "We can't. Shouldn't."
"Can't what?" You feign innocence expertly, even as you tremble with excitement.
Caleb blinks in surprise, completely falling for your faux confusion. Was he really that disturbed, monstrous, that he'd thought this was more than it was? Than accidental touches between two siblings, non-blood related but family nonetheless?
He really was a monster.
"Nothing, let's just enjoy the music and go home," he says roughly, disappointed. You should feel bad, but his reaction only makes you smugger. You make your movements just a tiny bit more obvious, rolling your hips on his lap.
His face flushes with heat as his cock lurches, seeming to slot perfectly in the dip of your plush rear. He can't stop from bucking his hips, just slightly, pressing your stomach as he grinds against your body—happily passing it off as dancing.
You gasp at the feeling of his hot hard body, your hand instinctively coming behind you to grab him, gripping the back of his neck.
"Is…is this okay, princess?" he chokes. At this angle, when he looks down at you, he's met with the sight of your fluttering lashes and your lightly heaving chest, taunting him through the neckline of your dress.
"I-I think so," you whisper, your breath against his chin. He groans, eyes shutting as you sway your hips in time with the music. Forcing his eyes open, he looks down at you again, whispering your name desperately.
"Do you know what you're doing?" he asks, dark and animalistic—a warning as much as it is a question.
"No. Do you?"
"No fuckin' clue," he growls into your neck, "W-We shouldn't though. Right?"
"R-Right," you agree. But you don't move away.
Caleb's heart soars, his fingers moving and flexing as they hold your waist, subtly guiding your movements against him. He leans down so you can hear him.
"Then why aren't you moving, pipsqueak?"
You shudder at his warm breath, "Why aren't you, Caleb?"
He growls at your provocation, getting worked up by your scent, "I will. If that's what you want." Your feet stumble at his rough words, weakened by his intimate proximity.
"I've got you," he murmurs, lips brushing your ears, "Can't even stand up straight without me. "
"Y-Yeah. Thank you."
As if that would convince either of you that that's what he was doing—holding you upright.
For a few minutes, you don't speak. After all, if you did, you'd need to address the obvious. And neither of you were ready to pull away.
You dance fully against him now, in a way that makes him unable to stop the way his body reacts. He has, what he thinks is, the thickest most painful erection he's ever had—and it fits so damn perfectly against you.
What would it feel like to be inside of you?
His breath is short as he fights to control himself, "Okay pips, w-we really need to stop. Before I—"
He groans as you turn to face him, his cock now pressed against your stomach, the uncomfortable feeling of precum starting to soak through his boxers.
"We should," you agree, "But do you want me to?"
Caleb growls, hooking his arm tighter around you, making you gasp as he molds your body firmly with his. Screw it.
"Fuck no."
You rest your forearms on his shoulders, fingers playing with his hair as he takes the lead, guiding your movements against his body now. He had you pressed so tightly against him that not even a hair would fit between the two of you, his forehead resting on yours—faces dangerously close together.
Your body follows his effortlessly, pelvis rolling against his, your panties dampening as they continuously brushed against your hardened clit.
"Still okay?" he murmurs, removing one hand from your waist in favor of gathering up your hair, tucking loose strands behind your ear, still staring deeply into your eyes.
You gulp and nod, weaving your fingers into his and guiding his hand to gently cup your bare thigh, right where the slit of your dress. You slowly inch it higher and higher, until he was nearly palming your ass.
"Caleb…"
He groans at that, flexing his hips in a bid to reposition his painfully throbbing erection so it wasn't completely stabbing your stomach.
"What?" he croaks, "Don't say my name like that."
"Like what?" you murmur into his ear, the music becoming unbearably loud as the beat builds.
Caleb grips the back of your head, holding unbearably tight, "Like you don't know what it does to me. What you do to me."
Your eyes are fluttering in drunken anticipation, "What do I do to you, Caleb? Tell me."
At that, Caleb's jaw clenches and he grips your chin roughly, "Don't play with me like this. Unless you're ready for me to catch you.
"I've been ready for a long time."
Caleb's eyes widen for a split second before he acts. Time moves in slow motion when he tilts your chin up, pulling you closer and descending upon you like a relentless storm. He devours your moans as his lips slot against yours, fingers digging deep into your skin, struggling to control his desperation.
His tongue is smooth, demanding, as it traces the seam of your bottom lip. You can vaguely hear him moaning your name against your mouth, hiking your thigh up to his hip, nearly completely lifting you off the ground. He pulls away, giving you a moment to catch your breath.
"D-Do you have any idea…how long I've waited to do that?" he asks, uncharacteristically stuttering and breathless. His thumb traces your jaw, holding your face tenderly and looking down at you with eyes that make it difficult to think clearly.
"M-Me too, Caleb…" you admit, tiptoeing up so you can brush yours lips against his again. He growls, aggressively pressing into you and stealing another breathtaking kiss.
"Princess, I'm sorry. I-I can't stop…" he pants, eyes dark even as the bright lights flash in them. He gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing painfully, shuddering as your palms lay flat against his chest, fingers tracing the planes of his thick muscles through his black shirt.
"Don't stop. Not now. Please, Ge."
Caleb hisses, burying his face into the curve of your neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of your pheromones. His mouth waters, satiated only by the taste if your skin, lips exploring the delicate expanse of your shoulders, collar, and neck.
Satisfied with flowering bruises he's left there, he yanks your chin back to his. Just as your lips are about to meet, one of your friends excitedly grabs you while squealing your name.
"It's our song!"
You can't help but feel disappointed by the interruption, the ghost of Caleb's tongue still on your mouth. But you're grateful that your friend either doesn't notice what's happening between you and Caleb—or she's chosen to ignore it completely.
She wraps her arm around your shoulder, the pair of you singing along to the upbeat EDM song. It makes Caleb smile even despite the unwelcome interruption. His own hands remain on your waist, trying to maintain control as you once again begin throwing your ass against him, torturing him viciously.
Groaning, he reaches his hand further down until it slips under the hem of your dress, toying with the soft skin of your inner thighs. He delights in the way you freeze, stuttering as you sing with your friend—who hasn't seemed to notice anything amiss.
Placing his chin on the side of your shoulder opposite your friend, Caleb kisses your neck and hums lowly, "You look unbelievably beautiful tonight."
Your heart flutters and you can't help but turn your head towards him, resting it on his, "Really? I thought you didn't like what I was wearing."
"I like what you're wearing. What I don't like…" he trails off, fingers crawling up the sequins of the revealing dress, to the swell of your breasts, easily finding your nipples through it. Your eyes widen, subtly glancing to your right to check on your friend. Thankfully, she doesn't seem to notice anything.
"Is how it makes me feel."
He rocks his hips, trying to show you exactly what he means. You feel the unmistakable press of his bulge, and it makes you scarily aroused—emboldened. With one arm still around your friend, you reach the other behind you and gently brush against his massive bulge.
"Oh. This?"
Caleb hisses, knees buckling before he catches and composes himself, "Yes, that. You damn brat."
He can't hear your laugh over the music, but he can feel your body shake as you giggle delightedly. He kisses tauntingly down your ear, all the the way to your shoulders, "Besides, you're all covered up now, aren't you?"
Caleb's fingers close over your breasts, kneading his thumb against your puckered nipple—his strong forearms indeed covering much of your body as he holds you tightly against himself. You're grateful for the music, allowing you to cry out with pleasure without drawing anyone's attention but his.
The moment is exquisite. Caleb's hands playing with your tits, your hands over his swollen cock—all while surrounded by a sea of people. It makes your body all the more reactive as you sneak glances around to check that no one is watching the way your "brother" is feeling you up.
He laughs, breathing in your ear, sucking gently on your lobe, "God, you're perfect. So damn sensitive for me."
You whine, grateful when you friend unravels from you in favor of bouncing up to someone else she spotted in the crowd. You spin around, facing Caleb once more, stomach churning at how unfairly handsome he looks, the lights bouncing off his sweat-sheened skin and giving him a halo like glow.
"Touch me more, Caleb."
He groans, grabbing your jaw firmly—so forcefully it makes you tremble, and thumbs at your bottom lip. He croaks, "Just how much have you had to drink, Pips? Do you even know what you're asking for?"
You blink up at him, your eyes conveying exactly what you want from him, "I do. Will you give it to me, Gege?"
Taking his thumb into your mouth—you suck gently, watching with satisfaction at the way his eyes darken into black pools of desire. He watches with a deep twisted arousal as you suck his finger, realizing the depth of his desire for you.
He was fucked. Damned to eternity in hell.
"Turn around, baby."
He spins you around himself and hugs you from behind. The sudden movement makes your head spin, still quite drunk, and definitely reeling from his words. Baby.
Caleb palms your thigh again, his entire hand slipping beneath your dress and finding the edge of your soaked panties, tracing it with a trembling finger.
"Is this alright?" Caleb asks roughly, knowing how devastated he'd be if you answered no.
Luckily, you nod eagerly, covering his hand with yours. Slowly and gently, you guide in deeper—conveying the depth of your consent.
He uses his knuckle to tease the sensitive seam of your dripping lips through your sheer panties, whispering huskily into your ear, "God, if we were at home…D'you know what I'd do to you?"
You lean backward so your hazy eyes can meet his, chest heaving with exertion, "Why does it have to be at home?"
Caleb freezes before swallowing thickly—looking around, fully contemplating giving into what you're suggesting, "T-The hell's gotten into you? Don't tempt me like that."
"No one will see. it's packed. I can't even see my own feet. Gege, please."
Caleb curses, loud enough for you to hear even over the music, his entire body trembling with excitement and restraint.
"Pipsqueak…are you sure? I…I can't go back. I can't go back to what we were. Not after this."
You nod, the back of your head against his shoulder still, "Who said anything about going back?"
"Do you know how long I've wanted this? Wanted you?" he rasps, fingers trembling with the restraint it takes not to yank your panties off and enter your warmth—never leaving ever again. "Once I start I can't stop. Are you ready for that?"
"What makes you think I'll want to stop?" you quip, not backing down.
With a pained growl, Caleb kisses you again. This time his tongue enters your mouth instantly—all shred of hesitancy gone as he ravages you, showing you just how badly he wants you. Want to kiss you, consume you, own you.
He smiles smugly against your lips when you all but collapse at the feeling of his fingers invading your most intimate space, pushing your panties to the side and pressing softly against your clit. You try to pull away to gasp for air, but he holds you in place, not willing to let you go yet. It's too much, in the best way possible—the way he literally takes and gives you breath, the way his fingers spread you open, expertly playing with your clit before penetrating you.
All you'd ever wanted was to be his.
"God, you're so tight baby," he snarls, "Gonna snap my damn finger off."
"C-Caleb," you gasp, trying to speak over the music. You wobble, eyes darting around nervously to make sure no one can see what's happening—his forearm fully up your dress now. Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe your big brother is simply more skilled with his fingers than you could ever fathom, but just a few languid pumps has your body coiling to explode.
"Don't tell me you're gettin' shy now," Caleb chuckles at your adorably nervous fidgeting, making sure to pull down your dress where his arm is buried, unwilling to let anyone see what was his, "Don't worry baby, I've got you."
Your bodies roll together like fluid, molded together in a sensual dance of sin, temptation, and longing. He's knuckle deep inside of you now, fingering as he grips you possessively against himself, swaying you to the beat of the electronic music pulsing around you.
Caleb's larger body shields you—absolutely unwilling to let anyone have a glimpse of his beautiful Meimei—that if anyone looked over, all they'd see is two people dancing very suggestively. Filthily, even.
"So fucking good," you mewl, gripping the back of his neck painfully, "I-Imagined this so many times."
Caleb's mouth waters as he does his best to remain upright, "Fuck princess…Me too. You have no idea."
His affirmation makes your stomach flutter, body clenching in excitement at that thought. Caleb groans, bucking into the palm your still have against his cock—wanting more.
"You get tighter when I praise you, y'know that?" he grunts, holding you firmly in place as he fingers you, all while humping up against your perfect backside.
"D-Do not," you pant, "Get over y-yourself."
Caleb's chest rumbles as he laughs, using his thumb and index finger to pinch your clit while his middle finger stays buried inside of you. He delights in your yelp, gently nibbling against your sensitive neck.
"Sure that's what you want, princess? I'd much rather get inside something instead."
He grins against your hair as he teases you, thoroughly enjoying how flustered he can render you. Of course, he wants exactly what he's saying. But he's joking more than anything—given your current surroundings. So when you turn around, eyes wide with sincerity and lust, he forgets how to breathe. Especially with your next three words.
"Do it then."
Caleb's eyes widen, Adam's apple bobbing thickly and eyes quickly finding all possible exits, "Fuck, are you serious?"
You tip toe up, taking his face into your hands and kissing him fiercely. He moans into your lips, free arm wrapping desperately around you, touching you everywhere as your tongues tangle in a frantic dance—his finger plunging back inside of you.
"Would I joke about this?"
He croaks, entire being completely on fire, "Maybe. You love to make your poor Gege suffer."
Not giving you a chance to retort, he grabs your wrist, already starting to make his way out of the crowd.
"Fuck I need more of you," he growls, dragging you through the crowd while make sure no one bumps into you, "Shit—not the bathroom…"
His thoughts swirl tumultuously as the impatience and anticipation steadily devours him. He wanted you now. But he was also unwilling to press you up against some disgusting bar bathroom wall. You deserved far better.
You tug back on his arm, body painfully on fire as you realize you're unwilling to wait, "Caleb…"
He turns back to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and drawing you closer—shooting a terrifying glare at someone who'd brushed against you, misreading your distress entirely, "Sorry princess, c'mere. Let's g—"
"N-No. I don't want to go."
Caleb's face softens, hiding his disappointment expertly, "Oh. 'Course. Sorry. Got ahead of myself."
But it's short-lived when you jam your body back against his, fervently mashing your lips into his. Your teeth lightly knock into his, but he couldn't care less, not when you're rutting the soft mound of your pussy against him.
He grips your waist and, with enormous effort, pulls away and panting your name, "God you better stop that before I take you right fucking here."
You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, "Why don't you? No one would suspect a thing."
Caleb growls at the thought of that, bending down and nipping at your ears in warning, "Because the first time I get to be inside you it's not going to be in a crowd of drunk idiots. I can't spread you open—taste you—properly. Not here"
Your stomach coils at his words. The way he looks at you, touches you, caresses you—you know waiting isn't an option. So you do what you do best.
Caleb lets out a string of inexplicable curses as he watches you pout up at him, eyes fluttering and cheeks puffing out. You lean your cheek on his chest, still looking at him through your lashes—and he knows he's lost before the battle's even begun.
"Ge…"
You don't even have the chance to get your manipulative purrs out, Caleb cuts you off, "God, j-just—"
He roughly grabs your face in both of his hands, kissing you ferociously. Pulling away, your combined spit trailing from his lips, he spins you around—forcing you to look ahead, deciding here will have to do. Your heart hammers when you feel movement against your ass, realizing Caleb is unbuckling his belt.
"Is this what you wanted?" he whispers roughly into your ear as holds you in place, "You want Gege to fuck you so bad you can't even wait until we get home?"
Your writhe and gasp at the feeling of his hard length, hot and damp, against your bare skin. You hadn't even noticed he'd pulled the back of your dress up, giving him access to you. He lifts your panties up with a finger, pushing his cock beneath them and thrusting into them— rutting against your panties.
"C-Caleb please. C-Can't wait anymore."
He continues thrusting against your ass, slicked with precum, easily sliding into your cheeks. His tip pushes against the soaked fabric of your panties with every movement, threatening to burst through. It reminded him of all the times he'd had to wash your laundry, your intimates, ashamedly stuffing a select few into his pockets. In fact, he probably still had those garments hidden under his pillow at the Academy dorm.
And now…he was here. With you.
"I want to be inside of you so bad," he groans into your ear, yet still not putting it in.
"I-I want that too, so just put it in," you whine. Your desperation only makes Caleb harder—knowing you want this just as much as he does.
He's mesmerized by the sight of his cock bulging through your lace panties as he continues to rut into you, the club's pulsing lights making the sight all the more hypnotic.
"Focus on the music, pips. Isn't this one of your favorite songs?" he kisses your neck, enjoying your adorable pleas—using it as fuel to retrain himself. So he can savor you.
"I-It is but—" you let out a squeal, covered by the music, as Caleb's lengthy finger finds your slit and dips in, sliding up and down so that he teases your entrance all while stimulating your clit.
"God, I'm one lucky bastard," he bites into your shoulder, "You're drippin' all over my fingers, baby."
Your knees buckle, choking on your own spit as Caleb continues to tease you, "Gege, please."
Caleb growls into your neck, "You know I hate it when you do that."
"Nnngh…you l-love when I call you that."
"Maybe I do. But I don't love how you knowingly unravel me with just one word," he sucks roughly at your neck, as if punishing you with pleasure.
You moan unabashedly, toes curling in your heels with anticipation as you feel him lining himself up with you. He gently moves your panties, now soaked and ruined with his precum, and parts your lips for him, eliciting a whine from you at the exposure.
"God, look at that…" he whistles lowly as he admires you, making you sure you hear him even over the deafening music, "So fucking beautiful."
You whimper as you feel him spit on your cunt—warm, wet, and lewd. His mouth, previously dry from the alcohol, waters at the sight of you bared before him. His thick strong arms wrap around you, blocking this sight from anyone eyes that did not belong to him.
"Ready, princess?"
His cockhead looks so damn big nestled against you that it makes Caleb's knees weak. He scoops you toward him, his forearm locked around your chest, your spine arching deeply into him. His fat tip is wedged between your lips, making you uncontrollably clench—beckoning, begging him to fuck you.
"C-Condom?" you pant, using your last vestiges of reason.
Caleb lets out, what sounds like, a snarl at the thought.
"Didn't bring one," he groans simply, "But I'm not stoppin' now."
His voice has taken on that tone he so expertly uses when he's dead set on something, Embarrassingly enough, your knees wobble in arousal. His rough words, the thought of having him raw inside of you. It terrifies you as much as it excites you.
Or maybe, it terrifies you how much it excites you.
"Aren't you the one who begged not to wait until we got home?" he snarls, "To fuck you right here?"
"But, I-I…" you groan as he starts to push into you, eyes clenching shut as you feel how big he is, bigger than anything you'd ever imagined. To feel that bare inside you?
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe you're simply not as smart as you'd always believed yourself to be. But you can't, don't want to, say no.
"No buts," he growls, chest heaving against your back, "Don't make me stop now, pipsqueak. I can't."
Caleb is so far gone that he doesn't even stop to think about how you might react to his demands. He pushes deeper, trying to pop his engorged head inside of your unbelievably tight entrance.
"Waait," you moan weakly, not convincing even yourself, "Caleb, I-I'm not on—"
Caleb roughly grabs your chin, forcing your neck around so he can devour your words with his lips. You gasp at the invasion, trying your best to keep up with his enthusiasm.
"Not on what? Birth control? I know," he growls, pushing against you further—almost inside of you. Your eyes widen, briefly wondering how he knew that—stomach fluttering with intrigue. Perhaps you should question him more, but all you can think about is the fact that he's fully aware and still refuses to stop.
God that turned you on more than anything he'd done tonight.
"Fuck, did you just tighten up?" he groans, "What, does the idea of me putting a baby in you turn you on?"
You whine and heat up with embarrassment and arousal as he exposes you. Against your better judgement, you nod eagerly, trying to push against him and envelope him fully. He gently sweeps up your hair, moving it to one side. The lights bounce off your perfect shining skin, his lips dipping down to kiss your pulse—shuddering to the end of his fraying rope.
"Gege always gives you everything you want, right?"
Caleb times himself perfectly with the music, thrusting into you as the song climaxes and the stage explodes with fire and light—so that your scream is audible only to him.
You must be unbelievably wet, with your own arousal and his saliva, because the combined motion of his hips thrusting and his arms pulling you toward his body drives his cock fully into you—his pelvis slapping against your ass. The motion is so forceful and intense that your dress rides up fully and Caleb has to quickly pull your dress back down, before anyone can see you.
"Fuck—Caleb!" you squeal, knees completely giving out. With all the buildup of the night, your fight, the innocent looks, the accidental touches, his possessive protectiveness, the less than PG-13 dancing—all culminating into this, your body instantly explodes. All the tension, the longing, the way he'd been fingering and kissing you, your body is putty in his hands—cumming as soon as he buries himself fully into you.
Caleb grunts roughly, his fingers bruising your skin as your walls milk him—forcing himself not to cum with you. Which is no easy feat, considering how perfect your wet warm gummy cunt was and how badly he wanted this, how long he'd waited.
"Hah—fuck, princess…" he growls against your neck, shuddering with pleasure, "No way you jus' came. You're fucking killing me."
You're at a loss for words, eyes squeezed shut as your mouth opens and closes inaudibly—struggling to speak. You feel Caleb's fingers between your legs, catching moisture that seems to drip down like a leaking faucet. Realizing he's catching your cum before it drips onto the ground, you blush and find your voice.
"Caleb, don't. Just let it…s'embarrassing."
He chuckles darkly, "You wouldn't let me take you home to taste you properly. This will have to hold me over until then."
His words do nothing to help your weakened knees, only making you tighten more with arousal. He quickly cleans his fingers with his mouth before pulling out of you, only to push back in. You squeal, body seizing at how sensitive your walls are to his invading girth, nearly doubling over.
"That's it baby. Jus' like that. You took it all," he coos, hoping his gentle praises will ease your sensitivity , "G-God loosen up a bit, please—Christ."
He forces himself to pull back, groaning at your body's refusal to let him go, still quivering from your orgasm. Your eyes go wide as his slower, more controlled, movements ensure you feel every inch of him. And there were many.
"Mmmngh—oh God. W-Wait, jus' came. I c-can't—!" you cry, caught between begging for more and asking him to slow down. You seem to have lost all sense of where you are, because an endless string of pleasured filthy mewls continuously escape your kiss-bitten lips. Caleb hears your cries but ignores your request, instead continuing to whisper syrupy praises into your ear.
"Big, s-so big," you choke as he thrusts back into you, supporting you with his arms still. Caleb growls into your hair, breathing in the scent of your sweat and pheromones like it's his lifeline.
"Is it? But you're taking it perfectly, princess," he throws head back, sweat slickened bangs falling backward, "Mmnn—f-fuck, always knew you'd be perfect for me. Jus' fucking knew it."
Unable to speak, you continue to expel filthy mewls that are consumed by the music. Your hand tightly grips the back of Caleb's neck, refusing to let him pull away—except for the slight space he needs to pull his cock out and shove it back into you. Resting your head on his shoulder, your lashes flutter up at him, looking at him with eyes that make him unable to think.
"Caleb…" you slur, still a bit drunk but mostly disorientated from your orgasm. He looks down at you, the passionate animalistic energy slipping as he gently kisses your temple.
"Mmmnn…" you moan, wobbling on your heels at his tender affection, "I-I need you s'bad Caleb. Always—hah—have."
Caleb growls your name, driving into you harder, his tip hitting your cervix painfully as those words hit his ears. You swear you can feel him throb, maybe even swelling further. If that was even possible.
"Do you know how often I thought about this?"
Your heart flutters, and you tease him—wanting to hear him say the words you'd always wanted him to, "Mnnghh—Thought about what?"
He seems immune to your teasing, immersed fully in absolute bliss. He wasn't embarrassed of this. Not anymore.
"This. You. Being inside of you."
Your moans grow particularly louder as Caleb starts to fondle you, one hand on your clit and the other practically ripping your dress off—kneading your breast hungrily. If not for the setting, it'd be a disaster how loud and wet the sound of his body pounding into yours is, sure to draw attention. Your body seems to have recovered from your orgasm at record speed, gripping hungrily onto his cock as it presses deeply into you—already demanding more.
You were so unbelievably greedy for him. He could feel it and it drive him insane.
"Heaven," he chokes out, "You—hah—feel like fucking heaven. Paradise."
"P-Paradise?" you moan with a sly grin, "That good, hm?"
He growls playfully, "Not just good. Fucking perfect. Everything I've ever wanted."
You giggle, body on fire and feeling unbearably happy. The pretty lights hypnotize you and you find yourself half-dancing, grinding against him as he ruts into your ass. Caleb is quickly hypnotized by the sight, eyes transfixed between your bodies.
"God, I always knew your pussy would be fucking perfect. S'like you were made for me."
His hand grips your throat, pulling you tighter against himself. You can feel his movements getting infinitesimally sloppier, his grip on you growing more uncontrolled. As he starts to ramble roughly into your ear, fingers leaving bruises everywhere—even the most shameful visible places, you can tell he's close to coming undone. You can't imagine him allowing himself to lose this much control for any other reason.
And you're desperate to feel him cum for you, especially as you feel yourself drawing closer to release, once again. And this time, you refused to cum alone.
"I-I am," you gasp, pulling his face closer, already knowing what to say to ensure you get what you want.
"Haah, sh-shit…You're what?" he huffs, having a hard time thinking clearly quickly as you look at him like that.
"M-Made for Gege's cock."
Caleb's eyes widen with surprise and his hips stutter. But he recollects himself quickly, snarling and forcefully taking your lips into his, tongue quickly claiming yours in an act that is nothing short of pure unfiltered possession. He barely lets you pull away to breathe, a look of pure satisfaction in his eyes as he watches how flustered you've become, even after your bold statement.
"Yeah? Were you?"
You moan as his rhythm grows more intense, nails digging into his forearms as you held on for dear life. He holds you in place as the crowd shifts, nearly causing you to trip, keeping you upright and willing victim to his relentless cock. There's a swift pinch to your clit when you don't respond.
"Don't go silent on me know," he demands roughly, silencing your scream with his tongue, "Tell me. Say it again."
"W-Was made for you—!" you whine, completely being supported by Caleb, your legs completely useless now. Caleb grunts, his sweat beading down his temple, a dangerous sparkle in his amethyst eyes.
"No. Say it right."
He punishes you, or rather encourages you, with a poignant thrust. You yelp, giving in instantly. There was quite literally no fighting against him, not when he had you feeling like this, "O-Oh—nngh…! I-I was—mnngh—made for Gege's cock!"
He hoists you completely upright against himself, breath hot in your ear.
"And now you're going to take all of Gege's cum like a good girl, hm?"
At your brink, your stomach churns with excitement and desire. The small logical part of you knows you should protest—but even that tiny part of you doesn't want to. You nod weakly, becoming incoherent once more as every nerve in your body coils with tension that needs to release.
Caleb growls with his own twisted excitement, once again forcing you to crane your neck toward him, "Look at me, baby."
You look at him through your eyelashes, hardly able to even do that. His thumb brushes across your lip, grunting in his last final few thrusts.
"Hah—N-Need to see you when I cum."
His cock lurches as the two of you stare deeply into one another. He was actually inside of you, actually about to finish in your perfect little pussy. His precious Meimei—the one he'd done everything in his power to keep away from situations like this his entire life.
And yet, here he was. Taking you for himself.
But then again, he knew. You'd always been his.
The intensity in his eyes, twinkling like the nebulous galaxies above, would've been enough to make you come undone alone. But of course, his cockhead has found every sensitive spot inside your gummy walls, all while his fingers touch you everywhere possible, landing decisively on your chest. Physically being able to feel your thrumming heart, all while thumbing at your half-exposed nipple—it's all too much for him.
"Dammit, I'm close," he moans, "Fuck—I don't want to cum yet. C-Can't let this end."
Your heart flutters at his adorable desperation. In fact, it pushes you that much closer to your inevitable climax.
"Cumming, Caleb," you gasp for air, eyes rolling back as the pleasure rolls in like the violent waves of a high-tide, "W-Wan' to cum with you. Please."
Caleb tenses, entire body seizing as your words force him into the violent arms of his own climax, "Christ, please. Go easy on me—fuck!"
Your eyes roll back, "G-Gege…Please. N-Need your cum s'bad. Need you."
Caleb lets out a filthy tortured groan, burying his face into your neck as he finally explodes inside of you, painting you with his warm milky essence—unable to hold back when you beg like that.
"Fuuuck, you want it, baby? Take it then. Take it all."
He doesn't stop thrusting even amidst his mind-numbing orgasm, fucking it deeper inside of you. It's endless, what feels like years worth of pent up desire releasing all at once—especially when your walls force everything he has out of him as he rambles filthy praises.
"Baby…" he whispers into your ear. While he's still rocking into you, small spurts of seed still leaking into you, the intense fog in his head seems to start clearing. The music grows louder as the ringing in his ears stop, post-orgasmic clarity settling in.
"Caleb," you choke, unable to support yourself. Cum drips down your trembling thighs, a mix of yours and his, as your entire body quakes almost as violently as the music.
He holds you steady as the crowd goes wild from something the DJ must've said, holding you tightly away from harm's reach—or anyone else's reach for that matter. You try to get your legs to function, knees wobbling like a baby dear. Caleb hisses as you squirm, painfully squeezing more seed out of him.
He's filled with an unrelenting feeling of possession as he beholds you—beautifully disheveled, skin glowing against the neon lights, looking up at him with those gorgeous fucked-out eyes and kiss-bitten lips.
You were his. And he'd never let anyone change that.
Not even you.
He's drawn out of his dark thoughts when you stumble, instantly snapping aggressively as someone backs up into you, "Watch it."
You giggle at the juxtaposition of his overprotective aggression and the way his voice still wobbles from being inside of you. Like a hostile puppy.
The man twists around to, presumably, pick a fight. But one look at Caleb turns his face pale, before turning bright pink as his gaze snaps to you. Caleb tenses, arms tightening around you, subtly using his fingers to tug the hem of your dress down. Luckily, the man scurries off without so much as another word.
It reminds you of exactly where you are. What you'd just done.
Did you really just fuck Caleb in a club?
Without pulling out, Caleb wraps his arms around your entire body, drawing you closer. You squeak with overstimulation as his cock nestles back against your g-spot, making you see an explosion of stars.
"You okay, pips?" His voice returns to that familiar low, gentle protective affection that made your heart swell with unbelievable adoration and love.
"Y-Yeah, I am," you croak, which only makes him chuckle at the irony of your quaking voice—teasing you giving you a short gentle thrust.
"You're so damn beautiful," he whispers into your ear, groaning slightly at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him.
You grin happily, "Really? Then…I don't need to change anymore, right?"
Caleb nips your neck in warning as you tease him about your earlier argument. The argument that'd led to all of this. Kissing the bright sensitive hickey he's left on your neck, he growls, "Keep testing me. See what happens."
"What's gonna happen?" You stick your tongue out at him, "You don't scare me one bit."
His chuckle is as dark and sinister as it is warm and chocolate, "I think you know, pipsqueak. Let's just say…"
His fingers trace the neckline of your dress, finding bruises he hadn't even noticed he'd left there. Truly, it was like he'd completely lost all control over himself—not even able to remember everything he'd done, sucked into the black hole that was you.
"I want that dress off for entirely different reasons now."
"Y-You're such a dog. Now I'm never changing," you stutter through your furious blush, already imagining yourself naked. On his bed.
You playfully squirm away, but he continues to hold you tightly, and eventually you start gently swaying together. The romantic intimacy is out-of-place for this club setting, but his tenderness creates a warm bubble around your intertwined bodies that you never want to leave.
"You're such a brat," he whispers huskily into your ear, tilting your chin back in the direction of the energetic stage, "You're really going to torture me like that? What would Nainai think if she saw me pop a boner every time I looked at you, huh?"
"Caleb!" you swat at him playfully, not enjoying how even his lighthearted words have your hopes pathetically up and your cheeks embarassingly red—especially at the mention of your precious elderly grandmother, "Shut up before I really jump off that cliff that all my friends are supposedly jumping off of."
Caleb laughs as he realizes you're mocking his words from the argument you'd had earlier that night. He kisses your burning face tenderly, trying too smooth out the wrinkles that'd formed as a result of your incessant pouting, "Jump all you want. I'd just catch you. I always will."
You smile, sinking back into his arms—unable to stay mad at him, even for some stupid banter. Especially when he said things like that, with all the sincerity in the infinite galaxies. You knew he would. He always did—whether you wanted him to or not.
But you start to realize, just like your words from earlier, that you'd been ready for him to catch you for a long time. And that terrified you.
"How come?"
"How come what, Pips?"
"How come you'll always catch me? I can catch myself, y'know."
Caleb freezes, not ready for how suddenly the direction of the conversation has changed. He's silent, contemplating his words. He knows the answer to your question—he's known it for a while.
But as you trip over your own feet, Caleb only chuckles and hugs you tighter, breathing you in and finding a different answer. One that wouldn't terrify you.
"Dunno. It's Gege's job to always catch you, every time you fall—no matter how many times. And it's the world's hardest job, considering I have you as my Meimei," he teases as he supports your exhausted body.
He laughs when you spin around, cock finally slipping out of you, to pinch his cheeks and tug at his hair, giving him an earful about how you were world's best little sister and that he was lucky you put up with him. But still, even despite the sheer joy of the lighthearted moment, those words echo throughout his mind—his soul. And maybe one day, he'd find the courage to tell you.
That maybe it was because…he loved you a little more than you realized.
.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.
✧.˖ i do not permit translations or reposts of my work on tumblr, ao3, or others. please do not reuse my blogpost headers, dividers, or layouts. these are original designs of my own.
〷〨 cw. free use, dubcon somno?, subconscious caleb, horny reader, cock worship, p in v, his freakin THIGHS !!!, no proofread :/, filthy filthy filthy all over ngl
you had been feeling extra needy lately. not that you weren't already needy enough on a regular basis though caleb swore he loved it about you. you didn't ever think you'd become this needy.
here you were though, at three in the morning, a hand slid down your sleeping boyfriend's pajama pants. could you really be blamed for being desperate though? you and caleb had made love for the first time just two weeks ago and now it seemed that you just couldn't get enough of his perfect cock; he had essentially ruined you for anyone else and you were perfectly happy with that outcome. he was the perfect length, a good 12 and a half inches, girthy and veiny, just the thought made your mouth salivate. you just...needed it.
you pump him in your hand a few more times before quietly sitting up and turning on the bedside lamp though you kept it dim. glancing down at his face, heart fluttering as the faint light appeared to make caleb's skin glow gorgeously. you gently draw the covers down next, careful not to disturb his slumber before his eyes land on the prize, caleb's half swollen dick pressing up against the seam of his pants. you instinctively lick over your bottom lip as you peel the garment down halfway, not wanting to risk awakening him.
shit, you really wanted to suck him off too but you'd save that for another time. another thing catches your eyes though, causing you to squirm, feeling your tight panties become damp with arousal.
“woah, thighs,” you whisper, you swear you'll never get used to the magnificent sight. you’d gotten off so many times against those thighs, caleb guiding you back and forth, letting you drag and rub your wet cunt all over them until you come with a delicate cry. now wasn't the time though, you wanted to hurry and ride him. you’d worked yourself up quite enough with all of the dirty thoughts, not to mention this scenario, something about touching caleb while he was sleeping and using his cock to get off was just so hot, it made you feel filthy.
you swiftly reache down and slip your hand past your own undergarments, bucking forward as your hand is instantly met with wetness, sticky slick coating your fingers. you whimper quietly, rolling your hips against your hand lightly before you stop yourself, yanking them off urgently and stripping yourself of your t-shirt too. you throw one leg over caleb's waist to straddle him and shudder, your pussy beginning to ache in anticipation and desire. you lower yourself slightly and grab his dick, rubbing it against and then between your puffy folds, almost purring in content. what would caleb say if he was awake right now? would he call you desperate too? maybe even call you a slut, so willing to selfishly ride her unconscious boyfriend? or maybe he'll be proud of his little girl for taking the lead?
a strangled noise builds up in your throat, your eyebrows furrowing as your mind is overtaken with all the possibilities and situations they could get into. again, not the time, you just need to get caleb's cock inside of your dirty cunt.
so, without further ado, you position the cock upright and gradually sink down, your eyes rolling back partially at the pleasurable burn of being stretched open. your warm, wet and tight cunt hugs snugly around his thick cock as you pause to let yourself adjust, you knew caleb would scold you if you were to hurt yourself by being too rash.
you can't help it though and it isn't long before you begin bouncing in his lap, muffling your moans with your hand over your mouth. you can feel every inch sliding in and out, you can hear every soft squelch echoing in the otherwise silent bedroom as you ride caleb to your heart's content. it all feels so overwhelming, so good, and you never want it to stop. a few minutes later and your pace begins growing sloppy and uncoordinated, caleb always did like to tease you about how fast you would cum since you were so sensitive, especially your puffy clit.
speaking of your clit, your hand slides down once more to rub at the delicate little bundle of nerves as you continue riding your boyfriend. your muffled moans are growing higher in pitch, body jerking as you manage to locate that sweet spot deep inside of yourself and holds yourself up on tired thighs as you keep going. your almost there, now biting at your hand and fingers to keep your voice down, a few frantic whispers of caleb's name do leave past your lips though. you can feel his cock twitching inside of you too, pulsating like it does when the older male is about to cum.
“g-gege, gege, caleb!” you chant soundlessly, hips bucking and thighs quaking. “...’m cumming!” your silent warning just barely makes it out as your body seizes up and you clamp firmly around his cock, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. you force yourself to grind your hips in circles despite the tender ache building from too much though, wanting to feel caleb cum too. once again, it doesn't take long until his cock gives a final twitch inside of the contracting, drenched heat of your pussy, cumming deep inside of you which causes you to finally slump in relief and collapse against his firm and meaty chest with an exhausted but satisfied huff.
clean up could wait until later. of-course caleb would do it f’ya!
caleb shouldn’t be bothering you. it’s almost two in the morning and you’ve been peacefully knocked out for the last few hours. so maybe he should really, really reconsider being a disturbance. but discipline didn’t exist for him around you.
he tried relieving the insistent throbbing in between his legs himself, carefully slipping his hand past the elastic band of his boxers and wrapping it around the base of his stiff cock before he slowly began stroking. but that just wasn’t cutting it.
not even when he tried spitting in his palm to help ease the friction or grasping himself tighter like your cunt always did when he was buried deep.
all failures proved it to be an undebatable fact at this point: your boyfriend was in dire need of you.
he needed to feel you around him so bad that his breath catches in his throat just thinking about how it’d sound when he slid inside of you with sickening ease. the way you effortlessly shaped around every inch of him.
the dimmed golden light coming from his bedside let his eyes rest comfortably on your relaxed features before they fell to your parted lips and to what he needed most hidden beneath the covers.
his focus danced between your pretty face and peaked nipples under your shirt reacting to the chill from the central ac. that alone was enough to make his painfully hard dick twitch again.
he couldn’t tolerate it anymore.
caleb sat up carefully before slowly peeling back the sheets to reveal your slightly raised oversized shirt, soft thighs, and a teasing peek of your panties. it was as if the heat rapidly rushed straight down again, making what was already intense feel like if he didn’t do something soon, he would lose the opportunity staring him in the face.
as he climbed over you and spread your limp legs enough to make space, for a fleeting moment he believed his entire body was capable of giving out. seeing the enticing mound of your plump pussy almost seeming to strain under pastel cotton damn near killed him.
he wanted to bury his tongue in it, wanted to taste and inhale you until your lashes fluttered and you lazily bucked your hips for him to take more. had he not been so impatient, he would’ve.
gentle was the name of the game now. it started with him sitting on his knees and hooking his fingers into your lace waistband until the thin material was lost somewhere in the duvet, then focusing on freeing himself enough in preparation to solve his very delicate issue.
his uneven panting couldn’t ease as he used his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips apart and stared at his favorite shade of pink.
he held you open with unspoken adoration, one of your legs hooked over his forearm and his slender digits still positioned, before gathering enough saliva in his mouth and letting the spit drip directly onto your clit. ensuring you were still sleeping, caleb then guided his rosy tip slick with sticky precum and used it to rub against his mess.
“holy… h-hah—shit..” he huffed out shakily, jaw slack as more thick dribbles of his seed spurted out and increased the raunchiness of the faint squelching. “feels s’good, pipsqueak… you’re always so good t’me, so fucking g-good...”
caleb dragged his cock up and down in between your folds now wet with what he’s given you, letting himself get caught occasionally inside your tightness to make sure he spread it as thoroughly as possible.
and still were you softly snoring with such inebriating trust in him, only whining sleepily on occasion in an unconscious reaction to the pleasure.
the ache your lover was experiencing had become beyond uncomfortable. he pumped himself a few more times right above your entrance and let the creamy beads of cum fall into you, wishing he had the self control necessary to continue just like this.
caleb immediately followed right behind them instead, trying to suppress his trembling moans the more he was swallowed up by your motionless form. the creamy ring formed and dragged down his shaft the deeper he got made his heart race and the fire in his cheeks spike to the tip of his ears.
“oh my g-god,” he rasped through gritted teeth, hips stuttering in a needy effort to really start using you. “even when you’re like this, you still manage to suck me in. just made for me, so damn perfect…”
your hot cunt was simultaneously dismantling caleb and showing him what it meant to be whole. every languid thrust and slap of meeting skin had him captivated by you’re bouncing tits. and when he caught that furrowed pinch of your brows and the breathless exhales beginning to fall from your lips, he started fucking you faster in hopes that he could look into your eyes when he filled you up.
“open ‘em for me honey, p-please…” he rushed, “pleaseplease ‘m sorry for wakin’ you, but i needed it. always so tight… so warm and ready f’me. fuck, i c-can’t even think straight..”
even with your blurry vision and dazed state, your reaction to being stuffed and your partner’s expression packed with yearning was immediate. you felt the stickiness spread across your thighs and could smell the potent sex in the room. and caleb, with his messy hair, pleading eyes, and hurried strokes… you were disappointed to have missed how it all started.
“mm… ‘leb? baby, tha-that’s…” you could barely form a thought, whimpering and inhaling sharply from the feeling of him grinding against your swollen clit.
you couldn’t stop squeezing him, over and over, doing nothing but making it harder for him to last.
“almost d-done pips, ‘m almost… i swear,” he promised sweetly, melting into your hand brought up to caress his bottom lip. it caught you by surprise when he took your thumb into his salivating mouth, violet irises rolling to the back of his head with your skin’s taste on his tongue.
it wasn’t long after until you were meekly crying his name and shuddering beneath him when the force of your orgasm crashed into you. caleb let himself fall into your embrace when he felt a new wave of your arousal around his shaft, slamming his lips to yours as he spilled his cum inside your quivering walls.
you comforted him with your nails grazing down the muscles shifting in his back and enjoyed his shaky breath fanning across your ear.
“i don’t… think i’ve ever came that much in my life. fuck…” he laughed in pleased disbelief.
you giggled sleepily, playing with his hair with the comfort of his weight pressing you into the mattress. “i’m expecting a play by play of events in the morning.”
“think you’d like it better if i showed you?”
“probably. yeah.”
“mm,” he hums and presses a kiss below your ear with a smile. “it’s late. ‘m tired now.”
“i bet. cleanup later?” you offer, delighted to see him already in agreement and reaching for blankets to cover your still connected bodies.
caleb wrapped his arms around you tightly, head on your chest and eyes already closed. “cleanup later.”
a/n: idk how good this is omg.. phone off for a few hours lmaooo
creds to @/strangergraphics for the apple & star divider!
pervert4pervert caleb x reader would be so interesting because they'd be massive perverts for each other.
caleb whose second home is your underwear drawer and, at times, leaving you with none to wear because he keeps coming on them.
you who likes to have him just as he gets home from work or the gym. he's extra sweaty and smells so musky it has your eyes rolling back. you're quick to drop to your knees, caleb already panting as he holds on for dear life.
caleb whose so attached to your bush, it would be concerning if it wasn't hot. he'll bury his nose in it for a few minutes, breathing in the scent of you heavily. it makes his cock ache, pulsing as it spills precome all over the sheets. sometimes you have to remind him what he's down there for because he will get hypotised by the bush.
you who loves making caleb taste himself. after he's come down your throat, you'll crawl up his body and kiss him roughly, bullying your tongue into his willing mouth. he whimpers at that, high-pitched and desperate for you, and it leaves you grabbing at his hand to shove it between your thighs. it'd be a lie if you didn't get off on his taste as well, especially when it's mixed with yours.
you and caleb are pervert4pervert and freak4freak and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Fingers, Cock, Grinding, Overstimulating, Controlling, Edging. Working out with him. Short and Spicy 1200 Words
The gym is quiet except for the slow rhythm of his breathing and the occasional clink of weights. You’ve been watching him all afternoon—sweat-slicked skin, muscles flexing with every movement—and the heat pooling low in your belly has become impossible to ignore.
He notices. Of course, he does; he notices everything, and he soon has you seated between his thighs on the bench, and his hand is shoved into your workout shorts.
He coats his fingers in your wetness, and then those same fingers find your clit, circling slowly, spreading your slick heat around it, loving the soft, broken whimper that escapes your lips. He reaches between your thighs, two long fingers sliding through your soaked folds without warning, pressing lightly against your entrance. You let out a shaky whimper.
“All this from watching me work out, hm?” He nuzzles into the hair behind your ear and smirks, voice low and teasing.
He drags his fingers through you again, coating them thoroughly before returning to your clit—slow, deliberate circles, spreading your arousal until you’re trembling. He drinks in the whimpering moan you give him. “So wet, baby,” he murmurs as his fingers slip inside just an inch. Your hips buck instinctively, but he stills you with his other hand on your waist.
“No. Hold still.” The words are practically a growl against your ear, his warm breath puffing through the strands of hair there, making you shiver.
His chest presses tight to your back; you feel the low vibration of his chuckle at your impatience. “Aww, the workout isn’t over yet,” he murmurs softly, slipping his fingers free. He slides down off the bench until his shoulders brace against the edge, upper back supported, feet planted wide and flat on the floor. Then he grips your waist and pulls you forward so you’re straddling him—knees on either side of his hips, your dripping pussy settling right over the thick, straining bulge in his shorts.
“You’re the perfect weight,” he growls, eyes dark with hunger. “Now hold that pretty ass still while I get my reps in.”
The first thrust is controlled but powerful—heels driving into the floor, hips snapping up until his body forms a rigid line from shoulders to knees. Your whole body lifts with him. The hard ridge of his cock grinds straight up your soaked slit, dragging over your clit in one long, filthy stroke. You gasp, thighs clenching around his waist, head falling back on a broken whimper.
He holds the position for a heartbeat, letting you feel every pulsing inch of him through the thin fabric. Then he lowers—slowly—until his ass nearly brushes the floor again. Your weight sinks back down, your clit grinding over the swollen head of his cock on the descent, making you clench around nothing, core aching with need.
Up—harder this time. Your breasts bounce in his face as you fall forward; he catches a nipple between his teeth through your shirt, biting just enough to make you squirm before releasing it. He keeps the tempo brutal: hard, fast drive-up, slow, controlled drop. Every rep lifts you. Every rep drags his cock along your aching pussy. You’re dripping all over his shorts, the fabric turning dark and soaked.
“Fuck, baby… feel how wet you are?” he pants, voice rough. “This is my favorite workout. Keep that pretty cunt right there—fuuuck.”
His hands lock on your hips, holding you exactly in place so you can’t chase the friction you’re desperate for. Each thrust grows sharper, more vicious, until you’re shaking, whimpering, begging with every rise of his hips.
“Please—oh—agh!” Your chest heaves in frantic pants, eyes squeezed shut, hips straining uselessly against his iron grip. He smirks up at you, sweat gleaming on his brow, cock throbbing hot and hard beneath you.
“You can do ten more, right?” That stupidly handsome face glistens, eyes locked on yours, clearly loving every second of your desperation. “That’s my good girl. Keep that dripping little pussy right where it belongs.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer—he doesn’t need one. You’ll wait. You won’t cum until he lets you.
One.
His hips snap up—hard, mean, perfect—lifting you clean off his lap for a split second before you slam back down. The thick ridge of his cock bumps your clit, ripping a broken cry from your throat.
Two. Three.
Each thrust grows sharper; the bench creaks under the force. Your thighs shake violently around his waist. Every drive upward smashes your clit against that hot, pulsing length until you’re sure you’ll lose your mind. You’re leaking all over him, the front of his shorts absolutely drenched, but you’re too far gone to care.
Four. Five. Six.
You’re sobbing now—ugly, desperate sobs. Tears slide down your cheeks, dripping onto his chest. Your fingers claw at his pecs, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks, but he doesn’t flinch—just growls low and grips the soft flesh of your ass even tighter.
“Please—please—please—” you choke out between thrusts, voice cracking. “I can’t—fuck—I’m gonna—please let me—” You’re trembling, begging, falling apart over him.
Seven. Eight.
He slows just enough to torture you more—long, rolling thrusts now, grinding the entire length of his cock against your clit on the way up, holding at the top so you feel every throb, every twitch, then dragging back down so slowly it feels like dying.
“Nine,” he growls, voice wrecked. “One more, baby. One more and I’ll let this pretty little pussy cum all over me.”
Ten.
He thrusts up harder than any before—hips snapping, back arched, cock pressed so firmly against your clit you see stars. And he holds it there.
“Don’t move,” he snarls against your ear. One hand slides between you to press two fingers hard over your clit; the other pins you right against the throbbing head of his cock.
“cum for me. cum with me,” he pants, eyes glazing over as he moans and twitches beneath you.
The second the words leave his mouth, the dam breaks.
You shatter with a sob so loud it echoes off the gym walls. Your whole body convulses, thighs clamping around him like a vise as you cum hard—gushing, pulsing, soaking him completely. Wave after wave crashes through you while he keeps you pinned there, hips still flexed, letting you grind and twitch and cry through every single pulse against his cock.
He groans deep in his chest, forehead pressed to yours, cock jerking helplessly as he cums beneath you—hot, thick pulses you can feel even through the ruined fabric of his shorts. You convulse against him, inner walls fluttering uselessly, trying to milk him through every last shudder, the steady hold of his hips in the air faltering, and he sinks down with you cradled in his arms.
For a long moment, you stay like that—sweaty, trembling, breathing each other in—his arms finally loosening to cradle you close instead of hold you still. He presses a slow, soft kiss to your temple.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, voice hoarse and wrecked and full of something tender. “Best workout I’ve ever had,” he whispers as he nuzzles his sweater face into your neck.
I am also starting a tag list lemme know if you want to be added to it for future fics!
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it’s not something he jokes about. not something he rushes through, or fakes interest in, or treats like a chore to get through so he can get what he wants.
he’s never once looked bored with you. never once made you feel like too much. but the opposite is true too—he watches everything. remembers everything. notices when you hesitate, when your breath hitches too early, when your body doesn’t fall apart the way he knows it should. he doesn’t punish you when you fake it, but he doesn’t let you get away with it either.
he just stills, forehead to yours, voice low.
“that wasn’t real.”
you try to deny it. try to ride the wave of the lie, pull him back in, force your way to the edge just to prove him wrong—but he’s already easing out of you, hands still as careful as ever, even when he’s disappointed, gaze locked on yours like he’s waiting for the real version of you to crawl back to the surface.
“why’d you do that?” he asks softly. just a quiet sort of sadness in his mouth like you broke something precious.
you hate it. hate the way it makes your chest cave in. hate how small you feel under his eyes. you try to explain it away with something useless—i thought i was close, i didn’t mean to, i didn’t want you to feel bad—and he hushes you with one hand, fingertips at your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth like he’s wiping the guilt off your lips.
“don’t lie for me,” he says. “don’t lie to yourself either.”
you nod. or try to. but he’s already kissing your temple and sinking back in, slower now, slower than before, like your body has to relearn the truth from the inside out.
he fucks you like the lie you told was an infection he’s cutting out of you with his hips and his hands and his voice, all of it patient, all of it for you.
“you don’t have to perform,” he murmurs, mouth brushing your cheek. “you don’t have to rush. i want what’s real. even if it takes all night.”
you don’t speak after that. you can’t. not when your whole body’s melting around him again, this time honest, this time aching, this time with the kind of quiet trembling that only comes when you stop trying to control how you’re seen.
he makes it easy. makes it impossible not to. keeps his hands under your thighs, thumbs stroking soft against your skin, keeps eye contact even when your tears start to slip out of the corners of your lashes, doesn’t say anything about them.
he just fucks you through them, just holds you steady, just watches every reaction and calls it by its name when you try to hide.
“there you are pips,” he whispers, when you start to shake. “that’s you.”
and when you cum, finally, really this time—your back arches, your cunt pulses, your fingers claw at his arm without meaning to—and he doesn’t stop.
he just breathes through it with you, just lets you ride it out, just keeps fucking you like your orgasm didn’t scare him off, like your pleasure is a bridge he’s still walking across with you held in his arms.
you’re still crying. a little. you don’t mean to.
he doesn’t wipe the tears this time. he just kisses your mouth and fucks you deeper and says it again, slower now.
caleb keeps two polaroids behind his id. just two. not because you haven’t given him more, but because these are the ones he needs with him—these are the ones he touches when his hands are in his pockets and he’s thinking about you.
the first one is harmless. your lips are red from cherry syrup, tongue poked out to catch the corner of your milkshake straw, and you’re squinting at the camera like you’re trying not to smile too hard. he remembers taking it—outside that tiny drive-in spot you’d begged to stop at on the way home from a weekend trip. your shoes are kicked off in the background, your sunglasses askew. he says he loves it because you look happy, but really it’s because you look like his. completely his.
the second one sits right behind it. hidden from view. it’s not as innocent—though you’re still smiling in it, sweet and a little dazed. you’re on your back, head tilted to the side, chest bare, thighs parted around his hips as he holds your knee up with one hand and snaps the photo with the other.
your panties are tugged to the side, thin lace stretched tight across your inner thigh, just barely hiding the fact that he’s already inside you. your arms are flung over your head, back arched, mouth parted around a gasp. he can still hear the sound you made when the flash went off.
he doesn’t show that one to anyone. never would. but sometimes, when he’s far from you, when the days are long and the hotel sheets feel too cold, he pulls it out just to press his thumb to the curve of your leg. just to remember how you looked when you gave yourself to him completely. he tells himself it’s just for the memory. but then his fingers drift a little lower. and the ache in his chest spreads to the rest of him.
he should probably take it out of his wallet. he won’t. he never will.
♡warnings: fratboy!caleb x cheating fem!reader, toxic, possessiveness, drinking, daddy, spit, extreme denial, humiliation, praise, degrading, hair pulling for like five seconds, finger sucking, FLOOR LICKING (don't freak out)
♡ uhh caleb fucks you in a ghostface mask while your boyfriend is in the other room
♡ sound bite: “Didn’t I tell you that we— no, that this is over.” Your fingers gestured between the two of you. “Yeah, I think I do remember you saying that. I guess I got kind of confused, because right after that, you begged me to spit in your mouth. And then, right after that, you sucked my dick so fucking sloppy and then you said ‘please daddy—’”
♡ a/n: this is the part two to ice cream cake!! had to reposttttt no edits just rawdogged from the drafts
“Guess who.” You could barely hear the masked figure’s voice over the music, which had its bass boosted so much that the beat had been making your stomach turn for the last fifteen minutes. It was a lazy costume— just a Ghostface mask, accompanied by a fitted black t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants—absolutely no effort. The owner of the voice was towering over you, the mask obscuring their face, but the body was undeniably familiar.
“Can’t you find anyone else to irritate tonight?” He let out a light chuckle before sliding the mask off, his face tinted under the neon red lights of the room.
“Irritate?” He scoffed. He took a second to run his fingers through his disheveled hair before the two of you were suddenly obscenely close. He leaned into you, arm reaching for the cabinet above your head, lips inappropriately close to your ear, as he whispered, “Do your nipples always get that hard when you’re irritated?” His chest brushed against yours ever so slightly before the heat of his body was gone again, a fresh plastic cup now in his hand after he’d shut the cabinet. You looked down and sure enough, there they were, the outline of your nipples popping through your too-tight costume.
“You look good, by the way. The whole uh—whore thing is working for you.” He said, letting out a melodic laugh while he poured himself a drink of whatever cheap liquor was in the closest bottle.
“What are you supposed to be anyway?” It’s hard to mistake a Snow White costume for anything else—he knew who you were. Even if the bottom of your ass was hanging out of the skirt and your tits looked like they were one dance move away from falling out of the cheap velour top, a slutty Snow White costume is very clearly a slutty Snow White costume. He just wanted to see the annoyed look that was now staining your face. You rolled your eyes at the question before moving your cup closer to the mouth of the bottle, motioning for him to top off your drink.
“You said I’m dressed as a whore, didn’t you? I decided to be your mother for Halloween.” He hissed out at the reply, feigning shock.
“Wow… liquor makes you mean. You’re so much sweeter when you’re high, huh, baby.” He wasn’t even trying to be quiet, and if it weren’t for the fact that everyone else was too busy playing a game of beer pong in the next room, which your boyfriend was currently enjoying, someone certainly would’ve heard him on their way past the kitchen. You choked on your drink.
“Are you insane?” Your response only made him laugh even harder.
“What did I say wrong? I thought you liked it when I talked to you like that—you certainly did the other night when you were cumming all over me in the backseat of my car. What was it that you said again? Hm…” He took a second, pretending to rack his brain for the next line. “Oh yeah, it was something to the effect of uhh ‘please daddy, let me cum.’ Uhh, you said something else too—'you’re fucking me so good, daddy. Please cum inside of me, I need your babies.’ You’re such a tough girl until I start playing with that pussy, huh? Then you’ll do or say just about anything I tell you to.” He recalled the series of events so casually, as if he were talking about the weather.
“Didn’t I tell you that we— no, that this is over.” Your fingers gestured between the two of you.
“Yeah, I think I do remember you saying that. I guess I got kind of confused, because right after that, you begged me to spit in your mouth. And then, right after that, you sucked my dick so fucking sloppy and then you said ‘please daddy—’” You cut him off before he could finish, sensing another sequence of mocking was on the way.
“I told you that I’m not doing this anymore. The sneaking around is just too much for—” Now you were the one getting cut off. Not by Caleb, though, no, instead the sound of a lilted voice floated through the room, causing you to take a larger-than-normal step away from the man.
“Oh my god, baby! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” It was a dark-haired girl in a cheap little red riding hood costume who had clearly enjoyed a few too many Jell-O shots, but still, you weren’t quite sure who she was calling baby. That is, until she closed in on Caleb, their bodies now impossibly close as she craned her neck up, inviting a kiss. A sudden surge of rage boiled inside of you when he obliged, his veiny arm slithering around her waist, his tongue making its way past her lips. They were making out as if no one else was in the room. In fact, you would’ve thought you had become invisible if it wasn’t for Caleb’s eyes locking onto yours over her shoulder. He was watching you, searching for some sort of reaction, and the more irritated you looked, the longer they kissed. In fact, if it hadn’t been for someone calling for the girl to come play the next round of beer pong, you were almost positive they would’ve fucked in front of you. Finally, their mouths parted, a filthy string of saliva connecting them before the girl skipped away, leaving the two of you alone once again. You took the rest of your drink to the head as Caleb continued studying you, a shit-eating grin painted across his face, his hair ruffled from her fingers running through it, the print of his dick evident in those sweatpants.
You poured another drink—brown liquor and some soda.
“Sorry, we got interrupted. You were saying something earlier, right?” he asked. It was as if the earlier performance had never taken place.
“Mmh, well yeah. You got a little busy there for a second, I guess. A new addition to your brothel?”
“Jealous?” You immediately scrunched your face in response.
“I’m just asking because it would be crazy for you to be jealous, you know, considering uhhh—the whole you cheating on your boyfriend with me thing, right?” You nodded in agreement, but Caleb noticed the way your nostrils flared when he said it.
“There’s really nothing to be jealous of, though, is there? I would have to actually like you to get jealous, Caleb, and if I haven’t made it clear by now, I don’t like you. You’re a good fuck, but that’s about it.”
“Oh wow, just ‘good?’” You nodded again, stomach now in knots, either from the recent production that had just taken place or from the cheap alcohol on an empty stomach.
“Really? So, you don’t think about me when you’re with your boyfriend, right? Like when he’s inside of you, you’re not closing your eyes to imagine it’s me. I mean, I guess it would be hard to—after all, you always seem to mention how I’m so much bigger than he is.”
"I've never said that." You rolled your eyes as you replied.
"No? I could've swore you said, 'Oh my god, daddy, you're stretching me out so good.' Then I said, 'Does your boyfriend fuck you this good, baby?' And then you said... damn, I don't wanna mince words. I think it was, 'No one fucks me better than you, your dick is so big you're so much bigger. I can barely take it.' Blah blah blah. That was just the last time, by the way. Should I recount a few others? Hmm let me see, there was that one time where you--" You had to cut off the monologue that was about to ensue.
“Caleb, I don’t think about you, ever. I’m glad you’ve found someone—really, she’s quite classy.” He leaned back against the countertop as he surveyed your body language once more. You were far from convincing. You were jealous, and it was obvious and illogical, but it was true, nonetheless.
“I think about you, y’know.” The smirk was gone, replaced by an expression that you hadn’t really seen before, almost like he meant it.
“When I’m with other girls, I mean—I think about you. The way your eyes roll back into your head when I slide my fingers inside of you, or the way you whine when I slow down to make you beg me. I think about the way you feel, how your mouth is always so warm and so—so fucking wet when you suck my dick. It keeps me up at night sometimes.” A wave of silence fell over the two of you, your eyes searching his now. He’d never said anything like that before. In fact, unless he was looking for something filthy to say in bed, he never brought up your boyfriend or any of the members of his personal harem at all. At first, it was just sex, but then it turned into staying for another round, or do you wanna order something to eat? Before you knew it, the two of you would fall asleep in each other’s beds. It was complicated, to say the least.
“Right. Well, what about your little girlfriend?”
“What about her? She’s something to do when you decide every two weeks that you’re gonna turn your life around and play the good, dutiful girlfriend. We’re on and off—” His fingers motioned between your bodies. “When me and her are on, it’s only because me and you are off.” Brutal honesty has always been a quality of Caleb's.
“That’s fucking awful, Caleb. Really, I mean, you can’t just keep stringing these girls along if—”
“Are you seriously giving me a fucking lecture right now, like you’re some saint?" He laughed through the words. "You’re the one who's been smiling in your boyfriend’s face for the last year as if every other night you haven’t been fucking me, so don’t tell me about right and wrong, alright? If I’m so awful, then what does that make you?” It was true. You were no better than Caleb was at the end of the day, and that thought was beyond unsettling. You wanted to say something back, give a witty rebuttal, but the words were caught in your throat. He had never thrown it back in your face like this before, and an overwhelming wave of emotions came over you once he did.
He knew he had gone a little too far when you didn’t even bother to argue with him, but those words had been building in his chest for months now, and before he knew it, they’d slipped out. You tossed your cup into the trash can and walked in the opposite direction. You couldn’t even hear the sound of your heels clicking against the wooden floors as you paced down the hallway, desperately searching for whatever bedroom the host of this party had used as the designated coat closet for the evening.
Just as you thought you had spotted a familiar door, though, you felt a warm hand grip your wrist, pulling you into another room, shutting the door before flipping on the light switch. It was the same tall figure, Ghostface mask back on. Your heart was beating out of your chest as he cornered you until your back was against the door, his body glued to yours. His knee was between your thighs as he leaned down to meet your ear.
“Don’t—please, don’t walk away from me again.” It was a plea, his voice clear through the plastic mask which he’d only bothered putting back on, so none of his whores knew it was him going down the same hallway as you.
“Caleb, I’m serious. I can’t do this with you anymore. This is wrong. I can’t keep—”
“I know, but just… just let me touch you one last time, then, yeah? Let me make you feel good one more time before you go.” It was horrible, really, the way you were squirming against him as his hand slowly slid under the bottom of your skirt. There was nowhere to hide; the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom quickly cut through the little buzz that you had.
“You can tell me to stop, and I will.” He always said that. In fact, it seemed like the one time he wasn’t joking around was whenever he said that.
“I know,” you whispered. His index finger halted just against the hem of your panties, right where your thigh meets your hip.
“Tell me what you want, baby.” He could feel you tremble beneath his touch, little gasps leaving your lips as his fingers danced along your skin.
“Please. Please touch me.” He hummed with approval.
“‘Please touch me,’ who?” He wasn’t being smug now or doing it to tease you; he just needed to hear it one last time.
“Please, Caleb, touch me.” He did.
“Oh my god. You’re so fucking wet for me, huh? When did that happen, princess?” This was a new nickname, probably liquor-induced, or maybe your costume inspired the creativity.
“I— I don’t know.” That was a lie. He took his time sliding his finger along your slit, your wetness making it hard for him to concentrate.
“No? You sure it wasn’t when you saw me kissing her? When I was looking at you while I grabbed her, when I was—shit—thinking about your fucking body when I touched her.” All you could do was whine, terrified that any sounds above a certain decibel would be heard through the door.
“You gonna let me taste you, pretty girl, hm? Can I taste what a big fucking mess you’ve been making for me all night?” You nodded fervently, desperately hoping that he would follow through with the offer, but he didn’t. Instead, he placed his free hand against the hollow of your neck, your throat so little in his grasp that he could almost wrap his fingers all the way around you.
“Speak,” he commanded as his middle finger slid past your entrance without warning. You bit your lip to hold back the nasty moan that was almost released.
“I wanna feel your mouth, please.”
“Aw, look at you, using your manners. There she is—my perfect girl. You gonna be good for daddy?” His fingers were so deep, curling just right inside of you, his entire palm rubbing against your clit with every thrust.
“Yes, daddy. I promise, just please—go faster.” You heard a light chuckle escape the mask at your request.
“Faster? What, like this?” He sped up, so good and so deep, just how you liked it. He had learned your body so well, learned exactly what gets you off, and if it was up to him, he’d make you cum over and over again just to hear the pretty noises you’d make.
“Oh wow, princess. You’re getting so fucking tight around my fingers—you gonna cum already?” A string of desperate pleas left your lips.
“Yeah? Yeah, are you sure you wanna cum? You think you deserve it, baby?” He was whispering so sweetly in your ear. You were so close—painfully close, and Caleb knew it. Two more seconds and you were about to cum—so he pulled his hand away. Just before he could whine in protest, his grip on your neck tightened, his other palm slamming back down against your clit simultaneously.
“Ow, what the fuck is your problem?” It was louder than you’d intended, but the sudden switch caught you by surprise.
“You didn’t actually think I was gonna let you cum, did you?” He was genuinely amused; a laugh, almost hysterical, erupted from his chest. It wasn’t until right now that you realized, this wasn’t a goodbye fuck, no, this was a revenge fuck. He had you pinned against the door, and no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn’t be able to unwrap your leg from his body, giving him perfect access to your cunt. So, he smacked it again. You shut your eyes together at the sensation.
“Why would you think that I would give you a gift, when you’ve been so mean to me?” he asked. He wasn’t being sarcastic either; this was a genuine question.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” His palm came down against your clit once again.
“See, wow—there’s that filthy mouth I’m so used to. Y’know, you always say how bad you feel for doing this to your boyfriend—how it keeps you up at night because you just feel so terrible, but do you ever think about what you’ve done to me?” he asked. Now you were really confused.
“It makes me sick to think about him touching you—touching what belongs to me,” he continued.
“You don’t own me, Caleb.”
“You sure? Because I’m pretty sure this—" he said, hand cupping your pussy entirely, the pressure on your clit forcing you to push against him. “This fucking pussy is mine. It seems like she’s who controls this body, huh? Not your brain.”
“See—you’re fucking humping my hand all on your own. I’m not even doing anything anymore. Is that something that someone who isn’t controlled by their pussy would do?” It was true. You weren’t trying to, but it was like you were drawn to his touch, the two of you clinging together like magnets as you desperately tried to get some sort of relief.
“Whose pussy is this?” He tightened his grip on your throat a little more, jerking your head to force your gaze back on him. The whole thing was so fucked up—you writhing against him, his hand under your skirt, and he still hadn’t even bothered to take the mask off.
“Fucking answer me or I’m gonna make you get caught.” Before you could even ask what he meant by that, his hand came down on your cunt harder than before, forcing you to let out a scream. You reached up to cover your mouth, but he stopped you in your tracks. “Don’t move your fucking hands or I’ll slap your clit harder. Tell me who owns this little hole, huh?” He noticed your hands freeze in submission as he rolled his thumb around your clit, gently soothing the ache.
“You do—shit. It’s your pussy,” you whimpered in defeat.
“Yeah? What about these, huh?” He let your throat go before roughly reaching into the top of your costume, his hand pulling one of your tits out. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and middle fingers, not shy about pinching it at all.
“These mine too? Last time we—fuck—“ he slid a finger back inside your cunt. “Last time we fucked, you said you wanted my babies. It made me so hard. Thinking about these pretty fucking tits getting so full if you were pregnant, y’know. After you went home that night, I jerked off thinking about it. I just know, you’d look so cute… pregnant with my babies—tits full of milk. Would you let me taste it, princess?” You couldn’t even think clearly anymore. The feeling of the pad of his finger rubbing against your g-spot made your mouth hang open—Caleb thought it was cute how pathetic you looked.
“Yes, yes, I would. I would let you because they’re yours—your tits, please don’t stop.”
“Oh yeah? I don’t know if I believe you, baby. You think you can convince me?” He slid his finger back out, rubbing his entire palm against your clit, reveling in the way you had to try so hard to stay quiet.
“Get on your knees.” Before you knew it, he took his hand out of your panties, leaving nothing but the wet fabric to rub against you. One by one, he watched as the soft skin of your knees touched the cool tile beneath you, your eyes wide and watery, thighs pressing together in agony.
“Kiss my dick.” You reached for the waistband of his pants before he grabbed both of your wrists in his hand, forcing them above your head against the door.
“Did I tell you to take it out or did I tell you to kiss it?”
“You said to kiss it.”
“Right—what a smart girl for daddy. So go ahead and kiss it.” He took a step closer to you, your knees between his legs, his clothed cock so close to your lips. You placed a soft kiss against the fabric.
“Mmh, good job, baby. Now lick it for me.” You whined at the request.
“Please just…” The words were caught in your throat.
“Just what, baby, huh? Tell daddy what you want.”
“Please just take it out. I want to taste you so bad.” He couldn’t help but stifle a moan at the familiar sight, you beneath him, begging to suck his dick.
“But you don’t deserve it, baby. If you’re not mine, then I’m not yours either.” He took another step forward, forcing your head against the door completely now. “This is how I treat my toys, huh? The girls that you always bitch about seeing me with—this is how I fuck them. This is what it feels like to not belong to me. It’s what you wanted, so fucking lick my dick through my pants.” You did, sticking your tongue out flat against him, leaving a wet trail behind. You could tell he was forcing himself to be quiet, but all you wanted was to hear him moan.
“Again. Make out with it, baby, come on. Maybe I’ll use your throat if you do a good job for me.” You left kisses and spit all over every inch of his clothed crotch as he kept you pinned against the door.
“Does it not feel good? You’re so quiet,” you whispered between kisses. He took his free hand to reach down and grab your face, forcing your gaze on him.
“It does feel good, baby. But I have to be quiet because I’m punishing you. I know it makes your cunt so fucking sloppy when I moan for you, right? So that’s why I’m not doing it.” He freed your wrists, kneeling in front of you on the tile, his other hand still on your cheeks.
“Turn around.” It wasn’t much of a request, really, so you did. By now, both of your tits were hanging out of the dress, your panties barely concealing anything after being pulled to the side before. You felt his hand slip beneath your skirt again before he straightened out the fabric, covering your pussy fully now. Before you could fully comprehend how odd this was, you felt something warm between your thighs. It slipped in and out, brushing ever so lightly against your clit—it was unmistakably his cock.
“You didn’t think—mmh—" he took a beat to continue, forcing himself to swallow his moans. “You didn’t think I was going to fuck you, did you?” His hands made their way to your hips, gripping them so tightly that it stung.
“Bend over for me, princess. Elbows on the ground.” You wanted to protest, but he tightened his grip on your hips when he felt you hesitate, so you did as he asked. Your ass was in the air; a smooth arch left in your back as you got on all fours.
“Now see—this is just fucking pathetic, really. I mean, do you want me to play with you that bad, baby?” He wasn’t going to move until you agreed, and you both knew it.
“Please… use me.” The shit that was coming out of your mouth would’ve been shocking if you’d said it to your boyfriend, but Caleb knew that getting you like this was inevitable. He wasted no time, sliding himself against the fabric of your panties again, his balls rubbing against your tulle skirt as he grinded into you.
“Repeat after me, pretty girl. Say ‘thank you, daddy.’” You spat it back out verbatim. He pushed one of his hands against your spine, forcing you down even further.
“Say ‘I’m sorry for being such a slut.’” You did.
“Say ‘I don’t deserve to feel daddy inside of me.’” Wait, what? Was he actually still not going to fuck you? He reached forward to grab your face once again, pushing your cheeks together in his grip.
“Fucking say it,” he demanded, almost growling.
“Caleb… please. I need—"
“I don’t really give a fuck what you need, if I’m honest, baby. Toys don't have needs, right? This isn't about you, right now. You just wanna fuck me, well this is what it's like when you fuck me instead of me fucking you. Make sense?” His fingers slid past your lips, forcing themselves towards the back of your throat as he kept grinding into you like he was fucking a pillow. You gagged against his hand, drool sliding down his wrist.
“You make a mess, you’re gonna be the one cleaning it up, princess.” You were, indeed, making a mess; a pool of spit had now formed beneath you.
“Fuck, this cunt is so warm, even through your little panties, baby, I can still feel how messy you are for me. You wanna feel daddy cum on your pussy, huh?” You were basically panting now, your hand limply wrapped around Caleb’s wrist. You tried to speak against his fingers, but it was useless.
“Huh? What’s that, sweet girl? You do want me to cum all over these pretty fucking panties? Are you sure? I mean, if I cum now, then I’m not sure I’ll have the energy to fuck you later.” You tried to protest, but you were so muffled that the words were indistinguishable.
“Fuck, okay, baby. Whatever you want. Come on, princess, rub yourself on daddy so he can cum for you. Come on, pretty girl, do a good job for me.” You couldn’t even stop your hips from moving if you wanted to, desperately hoping that if you grinded fast enough, you’d be able to cum too… but it was no use. Just before you were getting to the edge again, he stopped. You knew he was close too, but he was so determined to torture you that he refused to rub against you one second more if it meant you would cum when he didn’t want you to. You were crying at this point, tears staining your face as the frustration finally caught up to you.
“Aw, what? What is it, baby? Did you think I wouldn’t notice you were trying to cum too?” You didn’t even bother to respond at this point.
“I could tell. You were pushing these pretty hips against me so fast, humping me like a little bunny. Really, you’re not so stupid that you thought I couldn’t tell what you were doing, are you?” He slid his fingers out of your mouth, forcing even more of your spit to drip onto the tile. He heard you sniffling over the soft sound of the music blasting in the other room.
“Are you crying, princess? Oh, my sweet girl. Daddy didn’t mean to make you cry. Shhhh… It’s okay, baby. I got you, yeah?” He wrapped his arm around your waist now, leaning you back so you were flat against his chest. You could feel his heart beating erratically against you, his dick flush against your lower back.
“Let me make it up to you, huh? Can you be a big girl and do one more thing for me? I’ll let you cum after, okay? Pinky swear.” He reached for your hand as you shook in his arms, wrapping his little finger around yours. You nodded weakly in agreement.
“Alright, princess.” He slid his fingers across your face, a trail of your own spit coating your skin before reaching around to the back of your head. He grabbed a fistful of your hair as he leaned into the crook of your neck to whisper.
“You see all the drool you got on the floor, baby?” He took his free hand to pull off the mask, and finally, you felt the skin of his cheek against your shoulder. He leaned over you and stuck his tongue out above the floor, forcing a trail of his own saliva to coat the already slick ground. “Lick it up.” You had never seen this side of Caleb before; this almost sadistic energy that he had was foreign. You were waiting for him to laugh or say a punchline because, clearly, he couldn’t have been serious.
“Caleb—that’s so embarrassing.” It was beyond embarrassing. It was actually just gross.
“You’ve been embarrassing yourself all night, though, baby. When you stuffed your face against my cock trying to lick me through my pants—that was embarrassing. Or how about just now when you were calling me daddy and begging me to use you—also embarrassing. What’s one more time?” His logic was ridiculous. He placed a soft kiss on your neck just below your ear. It was the first time you had felt his lips against you all night, and it made you squirm under his touch.
“Show me you can be good one more time and I’ll let you cum in my mouth, yeah?” Probably under any other circumstance, this would not have been enough to sway you, but being edged over and over and over again had made your brain fuzzy, and the only thing you wanted at this point was to cum.
So, you sat up on your knees, Caleb’s hand still against your scalp as he guided your face towards the floor.
“That’s it, baby.” You closed your eyes, the thought of licking saliva off of someone else’s bathroom floor making your stomach turn. Either way, it wasn’t long before your tongue was against the cool tile, lapping up a pool of yours and Caleb’s drool.
“Aw, you’re so fucking nasty for me, huh, princess. Look at you following directions so well. That's it. Eat up all of daddy's spit. Just a little more—you missed a spot.” He guided your head a little to the right, watching as your tongue danced along the tile before he was finally satisfied.
“That’s my girl. You did such a good job for me. You ready for your treat now, princess?” You nodded like an excited puppy.
“Okay, turn around for me, hm. Let me see your pretty face.” You faced him now. Finally seeing his gaze again, skin flushed, pupils dilated, his hair was a mess, but he still looked so fucking good.
“Aw, baby. I’m sorry I had to be mean to you, yeah? No more tears, okay? Lie on your back for me. Let daddy kiss it better.” You wasted no time pressing your back against the wet tile. He laughed at your urgency.
“You need it that bad, princess? Spread your legs for me, let daddy see you,” He grabbed one of your thighs, draping it over his shoulder as his fingers slid your panties to the side once more.
“Baby, she’s so swollen, aw. I’m so sorry. Daddy’s pussy must hurt real bad, huh?” You whined in response as he brought his lips closer to you.
“Yeah? Let me get a better look at the damage.” He spread your lips apart with his thumbs, exposing your hole to him, which had been clenching around nothing for god knows how long at this point.
“Damn, baby. I bet if I just kiss this clit a little, you’d cum so quick, huh?” He did. His lips pressed the softest kiss on your clit before licking one long trail up your slit.
“You taste so needy for me, princess. You need daddy to let you cum, huh? Should I make this pussy cum in my mouth?” A string of praise left your lips, begging him to lick you just a few more times.
“What if I suck on your clit a little bit? You think you can cum like that, baby?” He laughed at the way you whined beneath him, your thighs shaking against his grasp. You felt him spit onto your cunt before licking it back up again.
“You wanna cum for me, sweet girl, hm? Repeat after me again,” He was muffled as he spoke against you, the vibrations from his mouth only bringing you closer.
“Say ‘thank you, daddy for licking my pussy even though I’m an ungrateful brat.’” You didn’t even care anymore. You said it.
“Mhm, now say ‘I promise I won’t be jealous of other girls anymore because daddy doesn’t treat any of them as good as he treats me.’”
“Say ‘daddy eats my pussy so much better than my boyfriend.’”
“Say ‘daddy’s gonna let me cum on his tongue if I say the next thing he tells me to.’”
“Say ‘I’m gonna break up with my boyfriend.’” His mouth stopped moving immediately. You froze beneath him, knowing that this was really what all of this was about.
“And don’t repeat it if it’s a lie, baby.” He whispered against you, placing a soft kiss on the inside of your thigh. You stayed quiet.
“That’s what I thought.” He wasted no time picking his head back up, gently pulling your thigh down off of him.
“Wait, Caleb.”
“Y’know, you’re right. We can’t do this anymore.” He ran the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping the wetness from his face as he stood. You sat up, eyes wide in disbelief.
“Until you get rid of him—I’m never touching you again.” He didn’t laugh or crack a smile. He was dead serious.
“Happy Halloween, princess.” It wasn't a genuine statement, but it wasn't like he sounded sad. No, it was almost a dare, a challenge of some kind. He left you there, sitting on the bathroom floor, panties soaked against you, and he closed the door behind him without looking back.
♡ warnings: fratboy!caleb x cheating fem!reader, drug use, dirty talk, caleb is kind of an asshole, spit, condescension, brat taming
♡ summary: you fuck your boyfriend's frat brother, caleb
♡ soundbite: "What is it, baby? Do you want a kiss, hm? You know kissing is really intimate. If your boyfriend wasn't going to leave you for being such a little whore and bouncing on my dick...surely if I kiss you, he'll have no choice but to break up with you. You know I'd--fuckkk--I'd hate to get in the way of a happy home."
♡ a/n: uhhh all of my fics got deleted... so i guess imma reupload all three parts of fratboy caleb surpriseeeee
It was hot—too hot. Every inch of your skin was sticky with sweat as you desperately tried to focus on your breathing, worried that everyone else could hear how loud your heart was beating in your chest.
“She’s gone, man.” One of the voices spoke out from the couch on the other side of the tiny room that you couldn’t be bothered to try to identify. You gently tapped your foot in time with the song that played softly from someone’s phone —you wanted to ask what the name of it was, but every time you tried, you’d lose your train of thought, the cloud of smoke taking over all of your senses.
“Told you she was a lightweight.” This voice, you did recognize, and despite how calm you’d been only a few seconds earlier, your mood was ruined immediately.
“Shut the fuck up, Caleb.” Your tone lacked conviction. It came out as more of a question than an order, making the dark-haired boy across the room smile as he inhaled another round of smoke.
“Ouch… you’ve wounded me,” he said, slamming his hand against his chest, biting his bottom lip in a clear attempt not to laugh in your face.
“Be nice, babe. Caleb’s just fucking with you, right?” The man next to you spoke up, languidly rubbing your shoulder as he leaned back into the beanbag the two of you shared in the corner. Caleb held his hands up in surrender,
“You know me—a jokester.” You rolled your eyes, scrunching your nose in annoyance at the sight of him, but he couldn’t have been any more amused as the rest of the guys in the room laughed at his comment, your boyfriend included, much to your irritation.
“Fuck…I’ve gotta’ eat something.” The topic was instantly changed, incessant chatter filling the space about what everyone was in the mood for, but all you could focus on was the pair of violet eyes watching you through the smoke. There was a glimmer of something in his gaze, a hint of a challenge, like he was daring you to say something, but you didn’t. Instead, your eyes were too busy studying the way his arms looked draped over the back of the sofa, the veins in his biceps evident, hands drawing an imperceptible pattern on the fabric…he was annoying, but god, he was so fine.
Apparently, more time had passed than you’d initially thought, because your eyes had already moved all the way down to the way Caleb’s legs spread out wide in his seat, toned thighs peaking from beneath a loose pair of basketball shorts, before you’d felt a small peck on your cheek, “Do you want to ride with us?”
You shook your head in disgust, the thought of being in a moving vehicle instantly making you feel queasy. The weight was quickly gone from the opposite side of the beanbag, making it tilt a little as your boyfriend stood up, along with everyone else in the room. There were only six or seven of you, a bunch of your boyfriend’s fraternity brothers and two girls that you’d never seen before and you’d probably never see again—they all stood, pulling on their jackets and slowly making their way to the door as you snuggled down further into your seat.
“You not coming, Caleb?” One of the short-haired girls shouted out, louder than necessary, but the doe-eyed look on her face suggested that this reveal was rather disappointing to her. You shared a similar sentiment, as you finally realized that Caleb was the only person who hadn’t gotten up. In fact, he looked more comfortable than before, sitting up as he got ready to roll another blunt.
“Nah, motion sickness y’know. Could you bring me a taco or two back, though?”
“Oh, sure! Don’t worry about cashapping mea or anything, I got you.” She squealed, seemingly grateful to have received such a task.
“Aw, that’s my girl, always looking out. Thank you, baby.” You couldn’t help but contort your face at the sickeningly sweet sound of his voice, combined with the way the girl practically skipped out of the room, slamming the door behind her. It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone’s engine revving up through the window that you thought about it, damn, a taco would’ve been really good right now.
“Don’t sit still too long like that, you’ll get stuck, y’know?” The smirk in his voice was evident even as you stared up at the ceiling, counting the popcorn stars in the paint.
“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?” He stifled a laugh at your statement, which only annoyed you even more. It was impossible for you to get under Caleb’s skin the way that he did yours. It was effortless—almost ever since the first time your boyfriend invited you over to one of the frat’s parties, Caleb’s attention was on you immediately, his gaze following you through the house all night.
The first few times you met, he wouldn’t even talk to you, just watching you from across the room, smirking anytime you opened your mouth to speak, like he was just itching to say something back. Then, seemingly overnight, he’d gone from ignoring you to incessantly bothering you—he was like a gnat that just wouldn’t quit buzzing around. He’d tease you endlessly, under the guise of you being ‘like a little sister to him,’ but in reality, you couldn’t stand him, and he knew it—he just didn’t care.
“Not really, no. I’ve been told I have a nice voice, actually—maybe I should ask around again.” You couldn’t get a witty response out back to him as fast as you’d wanted because, unfortunately, he was right. You were stuck—you felt glued to the cushion, slowly sinking into the beanbag chain more and more with every breath. The lack of rebuttal caught Caleb’s attention instantly, knowing you were physically unable to hold back that smart ass mouth of yours.
“Keep talking to me. You’re too high. I told you not to sit still.”
“I hate you.” You just said the first thing that came to mind, your mouth moving uncontrollably. He let out another stifled laugh.
”Yeah, that works. Pick your head up…you gotta’ move around. Why do you hate me, hm? Keep talking for me, c’mon.”
"You're just so...ughhhh!" You writhed in frustration, sluggishly, your brain unable to focus long enough to form an explanation. This wasn't from your high, though; you wouldn't have even been able to explain why you hated Caleb so much while you were sober.
"Wow, what a profound statement. This is the intellect your boyfriend is always praising you for... I see the appeal."
"Don't wanna talk about him." It was quiet, barely above a whisper under your breath, but this caught Caleb's attention. He adjusted in his seat, eyes fixated on you so intensely, you could've sworn his stare was going to burn a hole into your skull.
"Why is that, hm? All he ever wants to talk about is you, after all." He took a pause, that same sinister grin creeping back onto his face as your eyes wandered around the room, looking anywhere but at his face.
"You wanna know why I think you hate me so much? It's because I. Turn. You. On." Now, it was your turn to laugh.
"Caleb... the sound of your voice quite literally makes my clit retract into my body. I promise you... You do nothing for me."
"You don't have to lie, you know? No one else is here. I see the way you look at me... biting your lip, staring at the print of my dick in my sweatpants whenever you come over. When you visit your boyfriend… do you listen to me fucking girls on the other side of the wall? Do you wish it was you that I was touching like that? Do you wish that I'd whisper nasty things in your ears while you scream like they do?"
"God, I knew you were full of yourself, but this is a new level, Caleb. What is it? Did you not get enough attention from mommy growing up, hm? Is that why you're so obsessed with trying to fuck everything on two legs?" You weren't stuck anymore, sitting all the way up in your seat, eyes locked on his, chest puffed out, an unusual bass in your voice that made his smile grow so wide he resembled the Cheshire cat.
"You know," he was interrupted by another thick puff of smoke escaping his full lips, "In that entire speech you just gave, not once did you deny it."
"Oh, I'm sorry, was that not clear enough for you? Let me say it slowly so you can get it through your head." You stood up, legs trembling at the sudden change of position. The sound of your heels clicking against the wooden floor accentuated every step you made as you grew closer and closer to the infuriating man with every word that fell from your mouth, "You. Don't. Turn. Me. On." It was a lie--a confidently delivered lie, but a lie nonetheless.
"Prove it." Your brows furrowed in confusion, face scrunching up at the odd command.
"How the fuck do you prove something like that?" He leaned forward, the lit blunt still expelling smoke as he held it languidly between two of his fingers. His hand reached out to you, rough palm gripping your exposed thigh just beneath the hem of your skirt.
"If I slide my hand up," He inched his fingers closer to your heat, daring to brush against your panties. "You won't be wet, right? Since I don't turn you on, huh?" Your bodies were so close to each other's, too close, as you stood between his legs. If the door flung open any second, this position would make it impossible to deny any accusations that something inappropriate was occurring, so why weren't you moving away from him? Why weren't you pushing his warm hand off your leg? Why weren't you cussing him out or slapping him? Why were you soaked through your panties?
Without warning, you felt the pads of his fingertips beneath the fabric, pulling your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to the cool air. "Tell me to stop," he said, looking up at you, his eyes low and dark. You should've told him to stop, but you didn't. You felt it again--you were stuck.
His middle finger slid between the folds of your lips with far too much ease... You were unbelievably wet. Upon making the discovery, Caleb couldn’t help but laugh, which made your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. "Is this what your pussy feels like when your 'clit has retracted into your body?’"
"Fuck you." Your voice was so shaky you had to hang your head in shame, unable to meet his gaze any longer.
"It certainly seems like you want to. What would your boyfriend think if he saw you like this? His perfect girl being such a slut for my fingers..." It didn't take long for him to find your clit, but he wouldn't touch it. His finger just kept missing it ever so slightly... this was your punishment--for making him wait so long to get you like this, you both knew he wasn't going to let you off easily.
"You keep bucking into my hand, baby? What is it, huh? Am I not touching you where you want?"
"Caleb...please."
"I just don't know what you want. Is that a please stop?" He didn't bother giving you a chance to object before pulling his fingers away, leaving your chest heaving, eyes squeezing shut in agony, but he couldn't have been any more entertained by the sight. He leaned back once again, his hand, which was now slick with your wetness, slid beneath the waistband of his shorts, wasting no time in pulling out exactly what he knew you'd been desperately waiting for. His dick was pretty, just like everything else about him. He was so painfully hard, the tip of his cock dripping as you watched it rhythmically disappear into his fist. He never put down the blunt, taking hits every now and again between moans.
"Fuck...you made my dick so hard it hurts. You're so mean. Won't you come kiss it better?" His eyes widened as he saw the quickness with which you fell to your knees. He leaned the head of his cock down towards you. You watched as it throbbed only an inch away from your lips--you were salivating.
"Go on, sweetheart. Be a good girl and kiss him for me." You did--plush lips pressing against the head of his cock ever so lightly, but it was enough to make him shudder into you.
"Fuck, come here." His free hand gripped the sides of your face, bringing you back to your feet before pulling you into his lap. Another cloud of smoke escaped his lips, blowing directly into your face, before he tossed the blunt into the ashtray on the coffee table. Your foreheads rested against each other, both slick with sweat, your eyes looking into one another's, both dark with need.
"Tell me to stop." The familiar words left his lips once again...the first time it was more of a dare, but this time it sounded as though he was actually begging you--pleading with you to be the one to put a stop to things, knowing that he couldn't do so himself.
"Please..." Your cunt ached only inches above his cock, practically dripping onto his lap... You both knew there was no stopping now. "Fuck me, Caleb."
"Shittt... you're so fucking tight." These were the words that left his lips as he slid inside of you, his gaze not leaving your face as he watched your expression change as you stretched open around him, your walls gripping him so tightly he wanted to cum right then and there.
"Mmmmh fuck, you're so--" You couldn't get it out, gripping your bottom lip against your teeth for fear that you'd say something more embarrassing than you already had. Caleb wasn't going to let this slide, though, as he tightened his grip on your thigh just as you were about to grind against him, forcing your hips still.
"So what? Didn't I tell you to keep talking for me? Say it or I'll hold you right here, squirming on my dick until your boyfriend gets back."
"No, no, no, fuck fine. You're so...big." You couldn't even look away, his palm still forcing your face against his.
"Oh yeah? Sure doesn't seem like you hate me so much now, does it, baby? You like me, don't you, slut? Admit it." Caleb's self-control was demonic, and you knew that he was petty enough not to cum just to punish you for not giving him what he wanted. So you did.
"Yes..."
"I couldn't hear you. What was that, sweet girl?" He gently slid your hips up on his length, eliciting a nasty moan from the back of your throat before slamming his hips back up into you.
"Yes, fuck I like you. Fuck you're so annoying."
"Aw... there it is. You just can't be sweet for long, can you? That's okay, mama. I just need to show you how to be good, hm?" He pressed the softest kiss to the crook of your neck, his hot breath making your core ache even more.
"I think this pussy likes me too...she's sucking on my cock so fucking well. You just need daddy to be nice to this pussy, huh? Is that it? Will that make you be good for me?" His fingers, still soaked from both of your juices, pushed their way past your lips, resting against your tongue as you stared at him in awe of just how good he felt inside of you. He rocked you back and forth against his lap, fucking you deep and slow...fucking you how you needed, not how he wanted. It turned you on so much the way he looked up at you, pressing little kisses against your skin as he worked himself into you over and over again. You couldn't help but whine as he picked up the pace, already getting embarrassingly close as he kept whispering filthy words into your ear.
"Shit... you're squeezing me so tight, baby. You're not gonna cum already, are you? Maybe I should slow down..."
"No, no, please. Don't stop."
"Yeah? Then beg me to let you cum. 'Say please, daddy, play with my pussy so I can cum all over your dick.'" There was no point in embarrassment anymore...you repeated every word verbatim, and it only made him fuck you faster, unable to contain himself any longer. He pulled his finger out of your mouth, wasting no time before rubbing the wetness all over your slick clit, which practically had your tongue hanging out of your mouth by now.
"Fuck that's so embarrassing--begging for dick from someone you can't stand. What a slut...go ahead then. Cum." You were close, so close... but you just couldn't get there yet. Your lips were a mere centimeter away from his, your eyes tracing each other's expressions... you've never wanted to kiss anyone so bad--and Caleb could tell.
He spoke up, unable to waste one last chance to tease you. "What is it, baby? Do you want a kiss, hm? You know kissing is really intimate. If your boyfriend wasn't going to leave you for being such a little whore and bouncing on my dick...surely if I kiss you, he'll have no choice but to break up with you. You know I'd--fuckkk--I'd hate to get in the way of a happy home."
"Please...kiss me. I--fuckkk--I need you to kiss me." So he did. It was a kiss so deep and slow and sloppy, his tongue moving against yours just right, the taste of the weed still on both of your lips as you kept grinding into one another.
"Fuck, please. I think I-I'm gonna cum, daddy." You said, lips still against his, hands tangled in his hair as your walls quivered around his length.
"Yeah? That's okay... you've been so good for me. You can cum, pretty girl. Let go for me. I’ve been fucking you so good, I’ve earned it, haven't I?" That was all it took. You came so hard that tears streamed from your eyes, and your body trembled against Caleb's chest. As he felt your insides squeeze against him, Caleb had no choice but to do the same, his dick swelling inside of you. He came deep inside of you, his strong arms wrapped around your body, holding you against him.
"Oh my god..." As you quivered in his arms, Caleb's fingertips slowly rubbed against your spine, drawing small circles on your skin.
"I've never cum that hard in my life. Either you're that good at fucking or whatever we smoked came off the black market." A light chuckle left his lips; it was soft and comforting like music against the shell of your ear.
"Probably a little bit of both. It's my first time trying it too, bought it off a guy in my chem class--shit was not cheap."
"Mmh... you'll have to put me in touch. Did he say what strand it was?"
"Some dumb shit--pretty sure he called it ice cream cake."
he swears it. actually, the last thing he ever wants to see is you getting fucked by another man. he'd rather gouge out his own eyes and feed them to the birds.
so that's why you and zayne let him participate just enough to make him think he's not being cucked.
or at least so that he can't complain about it, not with his mouth full of Zayne's fingers. laying on his back beside you, trying desperately to lift his head and watch zayne sink into you over and over, but the doctors fingers are pressed down against calebs tongue and forcing his head back against the mattress.
but caleb is laid so close next to you that every time zayne thrusts his hips forwards, you’re jostled into the poor cuck man. you knock his hand, which is fisting his cock in such desperate strokes that you’d think caleb was the one getting fucked within an inch of his sanity, not you.
and you’re a goddamn mess. legs wrapped around zaynes hips, eyes glossed over as your head lolls to the side so you can watch caleb drool allll over zaynes fingers. speaking technically, he’s inside both of you at the same time.
but zayne’s being mean, as he usually is when caleb shares the bed. he likes his space—he’s territorial, if you will. so, with his cock plunging so deep inside of you that you swear he’s hitting your cervix, zayne bites out a moan.
“who makes you cum like this?” his free hand—the one not smearing caleb’s own spit over his parted lips—reaches down to rub circles on your clit.
“you do. zayne, god.”
“and what would caleb be for thinking otherwise?”
you buck your hips up in response. “wrong.”
and there’s a loud, grunted moan that sounds through the room. not from your or zayne, but from caleb. he looks blissed out, mouth closed around two of zaynes fingers as he thrusts up into his fist and imagines filling you up as he cums ropes all over his hand and stomach. he’ll deny later that the timing wasnt a coincidence—of course he didn’t get off on zaynes words like that. but right now he’s too drunk on everything to deny it when zayne pulls his fingers from his lips and asks:
“are you sure you’re not a cuck?”
you’re sure that one day, zayne will regret his teasing. he’ll find himself locked against a chair with front row seats to his pretty little thing getting fucked deep by caleb. he’ll hate it, and get hard anyways, and ask for more within a week.
but for now, zayne swipes a finger through the sticky white release pooling on caleb’s stomach and (whilst internally denying that he’s doing it for his own visual stimulation) pushes his fingers back into caleb’s mouth.
a cuck has to clean up his own mess, after all.
this is a repost from my deactivated account. i did not steal this and IF YOU SO ACCUSE ME i will pay an etsy witch to hex your urethra
It’s been a long time since Caleb has come home to you crying, scissors in hand and regret obvious.
His keys are still in his hand as he pushes the apartment door open and the faint sound of her pacing greets him before she does.
She’s standing in the middle of the bathroom doorway, scissors dangling from her fingers like a guilty weapon, hair on the floor in sad little clumps. One side is an inch shorter than the other. The back looks like it lost a fight with a weed whacker. There’s a crooked swoop over her left ear that makes him want to laugh and cry at the same time.
As she looks up, her eyes are already glassy.
And just like that, years collapse into one heartbeat.
He’s 17 again, sitting on the edge of the bathtub while she sobs into his shirt, clutching those same damn scissors, bangs hacked to uneven stubs because she “wanted to look cool like the girls on TV.” He’d spent an hour fixing it with gran’s good comb, whispering “it’s okay, I got you” until she stopped hiccuping.
Now she’s twenty-something and still running to him the second something goes wrong with her hair.
He drops the keys on the counter, crosses the room in three strides, and kneels in front of her without a word.
Her lip wobbles. “I messed up.”
“Yeah,” he says, voice soft, already reaching for the scissors. “I can see that.”
She sniffles. “I was trying to do that cute wolf cut thing from TikTok.”
He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “I can see that too.”
He turns her gently toward the mirror, standing behind her, hands settling on her shoulders. Their eyes meet in the reflection, she’s pouting, unshed tears glistening and he looks at her steadily and reassuringly.
“Same as always, huh?” he murmurs, brushing a choppy strand behind her ear. “You freak out, you call me, I fix it.”
She nods, small and sheepish. “You’re the only one who’s ever been able to.”
He smiles. It’s slow, fond, the same smile he gave her when they were kids and the world felt too big.
“Sit,” he says, nudging her onto the closed toilet lid.
She obeys. He grabs the good scissors from the drawer (the ones he keeps sharpened just in case), combs his fingers through what’s left of her hair, and gets to work. He snips slowly, carefully, evening out the disaster with the patience of someone who’s done this a hundred times.
Every few cuts he pauses to kiss the crown of her head.
“Still cute,” he mutters after fixing the swoop. “Even when you butcher it.”
She snorts, a wet little laugh. “Liar.”
“Not lying.” Another kiss. “You could shave it all off and I’d still think you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
And in all his learned skills as her personal hair stylist over the years, he’s finished in 10 minutes. Soft layers, a little messy in that intentional way, framing her face perfectly. He steps back, tilts her chin up, studies his work.
“There,” he says quietly. “All better.”
She turns to the mirror. Blinks. Touches the ends like she can’t believe it.
Then she spins around and buries her face in his chest, arms tight around his waist.
“Thank you,” she mumbles into his shirt.
He wraps her up, chin resting on her head, breathing her in.
“Anytime, trouble,” he whispers, kissing her hair. “You know I’ve got you.”
MYTHBLOSSOMS 2025 please do not edit, copy, steal, translate my works. do not feed my works to ai or chatbots. all dividers or banners are made by me unless directly specified, please do not steal.
Imagine you meet him on a foggy morning, the kind that makes the countryside feel suspended in time.
Imagine he's standing at the door of your clinic when you unlock it, tall, unfamiliar, coat buttoned wrong, right arm held just a little too carefully against his body. The fog curls around him like it's trying to keep him.
"You're not from around here." You say, mostly because it's obvious. He smiles, small and tired. "Neither am I anymore." That's how it starts. Not with romance. Not with fate. Just with a man who looks like he doesn't belong anywhere, asking if you're open.
Imagine you learn quickly that he's retired. A general, once. A mission gone wrong that left its mark, his right arm slow, unreliable, a ghost of what it used to be. He never complains when you clean and rewrap it. Never flinches. He thanks you every time like you're doing him a favor instead of your job.
Imagine Caleb was kind. But it's the kind of kindness that feels practiced. Polished. Like something he learned long before you ever met him. He speaks gently to everyone in town, the elderly farmer, the child who brings you wildflowers, the woman who sells bread by the road. No one is special. Everyone is treated with the same careful warmth.
Imagine the way uou tell yourself you don't mind. Because when he starts opening up, slowly, carefully, you feel chosen anyway. He tells you about the city in fragments. About missions that never end cleanly. About silence that follows orders. About waking up and not knowing what version of himself the day will require.
and Imagine still, there's a boundary. You feel it every time your fingers brush his wrist and he stills, every time he smiles but doesn't lean in, every time he stops himself from saying something that sounds too much like need. You fall for him anyway.
Imagine the way summer stretches the days long enough for hope to feel reasonable. He starts smiling more. Laughing, even. Color returns to his face as his arm slowly improves under your care. He stays longer after appointments. Brings you fruit. Fixes things around the clinic with his left hand, stubborn and patient.
Imagine you go on walks. Sit by the river. Share quiet meals at his rest house near the edge of town. You know, somewhere deep down, that he will return to the city. That this place is not where he belongs. But when he looks at you one evening and promises. "I'll come back. I want a future with you." You believe him. Because for once, you know what love feels like. And you are happy.
Imagine the beach is your idea. A small celebration, you say. Of healing. Of summer. Of everything finally feeling right. You've been to his rest house countless times now. You know where things are. Which cabinet sticks. Which drawer never quite closes.
Imagine you were laughing when you go looking for sunscreen. Barefoot. Sun-warmed. Unafraid. You open a cabinet you've opened before. And there it is. A ring. A letter. A photograph. The ring doesn't fit his finger. You know because you've held his hands, traced the scars, memorized the shape of him. It's meant for someone else.
Imagine the letter is dated weeks ago. Waiting. Loving. Counting days until his return. The photograph shows him with a woman you've never met, his smile softer there, unguarded, like something he never let himself be with you. They're standing close. Intimate. Certain.
Imagine the way you don't sit down. You don't cry. You just understand. Later, when he asked you. "Did you find it?" You don't ask what it means. You don't ask how long she's been waiting. You don't ask if he ever meant to tell you. You don't ask whether you were a mistake or a convenience or simply a season. You just smiled and said. "No."
and Imagine, for the first time all summer, the illusion breaks. You realize you were never meant to stay. You were never meant to be chosen. You were the quiet place he healed. Not the place he planned to return to. Summer was never meant to last. It just let you believe it could.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2026°
: I'll fix my lads msterlist on one of these days, I'm just busy. I'm thinking if I should go to Patong or old Town this coming day off but nahhhh, might.
CW: MDNI!! (ageless/blank blogs will be blocked :3), technically gn but reader has a pussy, pet play, Caleb is muzzled, dry humping, a lil bit of oral (f!receiving), degradation (just a tad), uhh Caleb gets in trouble for using reader’s panties too much. usage of mistress at the end.
WC: 1.5k
“Pips, I’m sorry…”
Caleb’s voice is low and whiny. Sweet puppy dog eyes filled with unshed tears, a muzzle wrapped tightly around his jaw. Caleb’s fingers are digging into the meat of your thighs, the cage pressing against your dripping cunt.
Resting against the headboard, your panties and shorts long discarded. Legs spread wide with a vibrator glued to your engorged clit—lowest setting, of course. You were planning to draw this out.
“Your apologies don’t cut it this time, dog. You’ve been a naughty boy,” Your tone is saccharine as you lean towards the pathetic mess before you, your hand reaching for the muzzle to force his gaze to meet yours.
Caleb’s dick throbs in need as he stares helplessly at you. Musk, with a hint of familiar sweetness, wafts from your legs. Caleb's mouth starts to water at the smell, at the chance to taste you.
“I told you not to use my panties to jerk off. I’m tired of washing them or buying new ones because your cumstains won’t come out.”
Caleb whimpers. If your boyfriend had ears, they would be flat on his head, tail tucked between his thighs, as he gave you that sad puppy dog eye expression that make you sick! Caleb knows he’s been bad, he’s just waiting on his pipsqueak to show him some mercy.
“This is cruel,” Caleb pants. “How can you do this to me, pips? I bought you snacks, I let you watch horror movies when you weren’t allowed to.” The muzzles hits the vibrator as Caleb’s tries to bury his face against his favourite spot.
Long pink tongue lapping at the air, getting a wisp of your arousal. He groans, eyes glossy with lust and frustration. “Please, I wanna be a good boy…”
As if a good boy ruts against the mattress like a teenaged boy going through puberty. There’s a big wet spot on the front of his boxers. Taking a hearty sniff of your drenched cunt, Caleb lets out a sound akin to a growl.
“I need your pussy, pips.” Caleb pleads. His fingers dig into your thighs. “That vibrator can’t satisfy you. It’s not big enough for you,” Caleb snaps at the air, an aggressive dog that’s ready to lunge.
“My pips only like taking big dicks, isn’t that right?” Caleb says as he takes another heavy whiff of that heavenly cunt that lies below him. Pubic hair curled slightly from your arousal, lips glistening with nectar that belongs in his mouth—he needs to drink all of it down—but it’s being wasted! All because you won’t let him eat you out!
Caleb needs to eat you out, at least once a week. All he cares about is your pleasure, the way your body squirms underneath him. He likes making out with your pretty clit, and enjoys the feeling of it throbbing in tandem with your heartbeat whenever he sucks on it. Gets the most melodic moans from you when he does.
Sloppy and messy. That’s how Xia Caleb likes it. His saliva all over your pussy lips, suckling and slurping as if his life depended on it. Caleb could fall asleep sucking on your clit—his own eco friendly pacifier.
“Sooo greedy. I’ve spoiled you, sweetheart.” Caleb’s tone is playful but the look in his eyes is not. Reminiscent to the first time you saw Colonel Xia. Not Caleb. Not that sweet boy who bandaged you up when you scraped your knee. No, Colonel Xia saw through you. Knew how to pull the ropes behind the scenes to get what he wanted.
Caleb is crawling on top of you. His warm breath washes over your face, arms caging you against the bed. “C’mon… take this muzzle off, baby,” He begs, attempting to nuzzle your cheek with the muzzle.
“Why do you want to deny your pleasure?” Caleb asks, rolling his erection against your soaked lips. The fabric of his boxers is soaking up your stickiness, heat seeping from between the cotton fibers, causing Caleb to groan.
“Because denying my pleasure means you don’t get to enjoy yours,” you say, a breathy sigh escapes your lips as Caleb ruts against you.
Caleb’s fringe is drenched with sweat, sticking to his forehead. Each slow grind of his bulge catching deliciously on your clit, your hips bucking towards him.
“Pips, you really want me to suffer…” Caleb whines. His head rests on the soft swells of your breasts, fingers digging into your sides. “Need you. Wanna taste you.” This is torture. Caleb belongs between your thighs, drinking you up like a man who’s on the verge of dying from dehydration.
Your fingers threads in his sweaty brown strands, “poor puppy…” Purple eyes meet yours, the coo in your tone catching his attention. Are you going to give in?
Please pipsqueak! Can’t you feel the way his dick throbs and how much he needs to taste your sweet nectar?
“I’m just being soooo mean, right?”
Caleb stares, is this a trick question? It has to be. Dark lashes wet with tears as he shakes his head no. Caleb looks pitiful but he has to learn.
“So that means I can be meaner?”
Caleb shakes his head again, trying to bury his face into your chest. “Please… I’m sorry. I won’t use your panties to jerk off anymore.”
Even if the smell is too intoxicating to resist. Caleb will try. Try to get over his panty sniffing addiction.
“Liar.” You scoff, rolling him over onto his back. Thighs straddling him. “You said that last time.” You remind him. Pushing down his boxers to free his weeping dick, the flared tip flushed pink, the veins pulsating with every touch.
Caleb’s length slips through your slit, glistening with your slick. A bead of precum oozes from Caleb’s tip, “the last time before that. And the last time before that,” recalling all the previous times Caleb used the puppy eyes and said his apologies.
“I think you’re always going to be a lying little dog.”
At this point, your words are going in one ear and out the other. Caleb isn’t focused on anything but your slick cunt rubbing all up on him. Each move makes his balls ache, the muzzle is too tight around his jaw, and he’s desperate.
“Keep calling me names, sweetheart. You know it only makes me harder for you,” Caleb says, a short laugh leaving him. His large hands holding your hips, guiding your motions over his dick.
His words earn him a scoff and an eye roll from you. “You’re a degenerate.”
“I haven’t heard any complaints before.” The corner of his lip upturned into a smile, revealing just a hint of his perfect teeth. “Besides, you’re the one who muzzled me. I think you’re just as bad as me.”
“Never. I’m an angel.”
Caleb laughs, his fingers pressing into your hips, leaving crescent-shaped imprints in your flesh. “I’ve never met an angel eager to rub their wet pussy over a dick before. Fallen angel, perhaps?”
“That’s your title, Caleb. I’m the angel that has to train the doggy to be good.” Gyrating your hips faster, the squelch of your juices and combined breathy moans fill the bedroom.
A familiar white heat builds in the middle of your tummy, each time Caleb’s tip bumps against your clit, it sends shivers down your spine. Your hands rest on Caleb’s chest, his hot skin sticking to your palms. Caleb’s heart is rapidly beating against his ribcage, breaths are becoming ragged.
“G’na cum…” Caleb pants. His head fell back on the pillow. “Can I? Haah… please,” his stomach clenches as his balls draw up. Even if you said ‘no, ’ it wouldn’t stop him from making a mess.
“Okay, puppy. Go ahead,” you relent. You’re not that heartless! With your hips picking up pace again, Caleb can’t hold back. He never can. Not when it comes to you.
A deep guttural groan falls from Caleb’s mouth as hot white ropes of cum spray over his abdomen, yet your hip movements don’t stop, working him through his orgasm.
A mess. He always is. Caleb’s heaving, his body drenched in sweat. “Good boy, who’s pipsqueak’s good boy? You are!” You lean down to kiss the muzzle. Caleb’s eyes are unfocused, he doesn’t even realize that you’re teasing him right now.
Caleb whimpers as you continue to grind over his sensitive dick, aftershocks going through his body. His cheeks have the prettiest tint to them, his lips parted, and the sweat on his body… Caleb looks gorgeous like this.
Unclipping the muzzle, you throw it aside. Thumbs rubbing the indents left on Caleb’s cheeks. A good boy indeed. Did Caleb learn his lesson? No, you don’t believe so.
But now that he’s gotten a chance to cum, it’s only fair that you get yours. And what’s the best way to get your rocks off if it isn’t by using your pup’s tongue?
“Tired?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Too tired to clean—“
A startled gasp leaves you as Caleb rolls you onto your back, Caleb didn’t need you to finish the rest of your question to know what you were offering. Transfixed by his desire, Caleb nestled between your thighs, tongue already lapping at your puffy lips.
Caleb would make you cum over and over again as punishment for making him wear that stupid muzzle. A small price to pay for being his ‘cruel’ mistress.
