❕cw: pseudo-incest, degradation, hyperspermia, blowjob, mentions of creampie, mentions of piss, mentions of p in v sex
⭑.ᐟ
“m’sorry it’s a lot— gege just has so much to give you, baby, fuuuck,”
yanking himself out of her mouth, he decides to fist his cock so he can watch himself release onto her tongue.
his foreskin slides over his tip so prettily, the wet schilks making her thighs tighten in arousal. she wishes she could just shove him down and ride out his orgasm, bounce in his lap until she properly breaks. her knees ache with bruises and the left one is busted with blood smearing onto the bathroom tile— too eager to suck his cock as soon as he’d got undressed.
‘what a day, huh?’ her voice was sultry and caleb already had her pawing at his zipper.
“here it comes, pips. take all of it, my pretty little cumslut. mhm-hmm, yeeeah. brother’s cum looks so good on your tongue. that’s it, keep drinking it— shit baby, you’re killin’ me— not gonna stop— hah!”
he doesn’t. he has way too much. thick, copious spurts of white shoot onto the back of her tongue and down her esophagus, splashing against it just as aggressively as his piss does. heaps of it drool down the corners of her mouth and plap onto the floor, an aggressive gargle coming from her overwhelmed state.
god, he’d urinate, too, if he had any in his bladder to offer.
“who said you could waste it?” he growls, fingers digging into her cheek as he grips it admonishingly.
“m’sorry!” her whines are drowned out by the last few ropes of his climax gargling in the back of her throat.
he lets his cock bob freely, pushing his hand down on it only to let it come back up in rebound. proving that he’s still hard. that he needs more.
“caleb, i—“
suddenly, she’s being swept up and off her feet, carrying her with one arm and throwing her like it’s nothing onto their bed. leaning up onto her elbows, she’s breathless. not from the manhandling, but just by how gorgeous he is. his naked body and the way his cock stands up so angrily…
“gonna take this dick until you show gege just how sorry you really are.”
The heat in the room was suffocating, your face flushed hot with embarrassment and something else. Caleb had your back pressed tight to his chest, arm caging you in while his hand held your jaw in a firm grip, making sure you couldn't look away from the obscene video playing on his phone.
“Dont be shy now pips.”
In your defense, you didn’t mean for this to happen, you were merely curious. Caleb never restricted you from any of his things. Passwords, keys, belongings, everything was at your access and disposal, but thinking back on it, you realized you’d never actually utilized all that privilege.
So just for your own amusement, not really expecting to find anything, you took a peek at his phone when he’d left it lying around. To your utter surprise, you found his own little porn collection. And to make matters worse, Caleb walked right in on you.
“Ah I see I’ve been caught.”
He took great enjoyment seeing how flustered you got at his depravity. “Well, since you’re so curious, I might as well tell you all about them.”
You helplessly squirmed in his lap as he sat you through each and every video, pointing out different details and reasons for why he had them saved.
“This one,” pointing towards a girl getting railed on screen, her loud moans and smacking noises filling the quiet room, “she has hair like yours.”
Swiping to the next, it was another girl getting eaten out by a man. “That–” Caleb chuckled, his breath sending a wave of goosebumps down your neck, “I wanted to try that out on you someday.” He made you watch as the man on screen licked and rubbed her clit.
You would be lying if you said all this wasn't resulting in a pool of arousal in your underwear. Unbelievably turned on by the fact that your Caleb had been thinking of you while–
“Gege needs to jerk off too baby, ‘m not perfect.”
You whined in his hold, desperate for him to finally touch you and your leaky pussy. “Caleb no more–”
“Nuh uh, we have to see it through pips.” Suddenly, he reached down to rub you firmly through your shorts. “Gotta get her nice and ready for me.”
He cooed and caressed you through your misery, his hand dragging your face back to the screen every time you looked away, whispering “shh” and wiping your tears away when you sobbed at your pussy clenching around nothing.
“Look, she cries like you, doesn't she?”
By the end of it, you were delirious from begging for dick. He finally relented, kicking off his clothes and your own, laying back on the couch and pulling you up with him.
Your hands planted on his chest, trying to regain sanity with the way his dick was rubbing up against you. Meanwhile, Caleb was smirking below you, watching you struggle to line him up with your entrance.
“Dick s’yours, put it in– fuck.” His words melted away into a groan as he felt your searing heat envelope him, eyes shutting tight.
You sighed at the stretch, sinking down on his impossible size, body held upright by nothing but his hands.
Right as you felt like you were stuffed full, you looked down to see a good few inches of him still outside of you. But you simply couldn't care less and selfishly began riding the part of his cock you managed to fit.
“Pi- pips, what are you doing?” He had his eyebrows scrunched, hands tightening around your waist as he tried to not to shove you down onto his cock.
“I can’t Caleb, ‘s too big.” You just couldn't put him in the rest of the way.
“Psh, do you want gege to help you baby?”
And you nodded, cockdrunk and not fully realizing what you were agreeing to.
“Okey doke.” he grinned and reached up to capture your lips in a deep, filthy kiss, tongue tangling with yours and distracting you from the way he shifted his hold on you.
And he pulled you down all the way.
Your eyes widened, mouth gasping against his as a slurry of fuck fuck fucks escaped him. For all you knew, he could’ve just displaced all your organs.
The shock didn't last for long before it bloomed into hot pleasure. You gripped onto his shoulders, rolling your hips and setting a needy rhythm.
“Just like that sweet girl, ride your gege.”
And you rode him like a woman possessed, desperate and sloppy, forcing yourself up and down his length until the wet slapping sound echoed off the couch.
Caleb’s breath hitched, looking like he was painfully close.
“Okay now– stop moving. Stop,” he whimpered, hands pinning your hips still through your squirming.
He looked up at the ceiling, gritting his teeth as he summoned everything not to bust a load in you right then and there.
And then he suddenly turned your bodies, shifting you to pin you down on the couch instead, swinging a leg over his shoulder, scowling.
“Lemme do my work now.”
And a switch flipped as he started rutting into you like he’d gone nuts.
He kept hitting all your spots, your back lifting clean off the cushions as your release took no time to hit you like a truck.
He sobbed at the feeling of your pussy clenching him like a vice, and he held you closer, chests touching as he rested his forehead on yours, feeling his own climax not too far behind.
“Inside? Fuuck. inside.”
He gripped your ass, pulling you flush against his hips as he filled you up with his seed. He stayed there for a moment, feeling the warm liquid trickle out of your plugged hole and onto the couch, whispering I love yous into your skin.
He huffed, using his arms to pull his weight off you, caressing your bare stomach as he grabbed his phone that was tossed off the side.
“You know…”
He pulled up the camera on his phone, a smile tugging the corner of his lips.
“Maybe you could help gege expand his collection.”
Should you have the misfortune of Valko catching sight of you during his rut, it wouldn't end well for you.
His wolf would take the reins completely, reducing his existence to the sole objective of mounting you.
It would be nothing short of primal. He would shove you face down into the pillows, caging you under his weight as his hands locked your hips high, dragging you back to take every thrust.
His canines would sink deep into the scruff of your neck, holding you in place so you couldn't run while he drilled his knot home.
The sound of heavy footsteps echoing outside your bedroom door broke your attention away from your phone. You were sitting on your bed, and looked up to see the knob turn and the door open, the creak of the hinge signalling the arrival of your weary boyfriend.
Caleb’s eyes immediately found yours, heavy lids hinting at the exhaustion that accumulated throughout the day. His usually crisp uniform was now unbuttoned low and creased at the edges, letting his heaving chest peek through. His tie was pulled off completely and was now wrapped around his hand instead.
He looked completely unraveled.
Normally, this would concern you, as you would immediately invite him to slip into your embrace, asking him all about his day and the overwhelming responsibilities that probably consorted it. Indulging him in the comfort that only you would be able to provide, all without a second thought.
Not today though.
You were utterly upset by Caleb not giving you enough attention throughout the day, and being the bratty abomination Caleb practically created himself, you weren't planning on being nice.
You watched him toss his hat off somewhere on the floor carelessly and take a few steps towards you. “It's way past your bedtime, pips.” His voice was gruff, carrying a deeper edge and being breathier than usual, almost like even using it was costing him his composure.
You, meanwhile, ignored his presence and voice entirely, and turned your attention back onto the device in your hands. Even as you felt his looming presence hovering right above your figure, you simply acted indifferent.
You heard a low hum rumble from his chest before a hand snatched away your phone. Immediately, your gaze shot up to meet his face, seeing one of his eyebrows cocked up.
“Go to sleep.” The sentence carried an air of finality, but you were not going to relent.
“No.”
You saw his lips press together into a thin line, looking like he was conjuring all the patience in the world. And that's exactly what you’ve come to expect– Caleb resorting to his sweet indulgence, saying ‘please baby’ while peppering light kisses all over your face. His natural state of having bottomless lenience.
But what you didn't expect– was for him to reach out to the back of your neck, thread his fingers through your hair, and yank hard.
“C-caleb,” you whimpered out, already feeling tears prick the edge of your eyes and your underwear turning into wet mush.
Caleb leaned down to your level, head dipping into the crook of your neck as he angled you with his new leverage.
“You’re a pain in the fucking ass.”
He smushed his face against your skin, inhaling deeply, punctuating each movement with bites and sucks that felt anything but gentle. And by the time he retracted to meet your gaze once again, his eyes were fully blown out.
“Ive had a day too long, my work too hard, and way too many punchable faces,” Caleb spoke lowly as he raked his eyes through your entire frame, a tick in his jaw pulsing with each syllable.
“So what I need you to do, my sweet–” the nickname was dripping with condescension more than anything, and suddenly, he released his hold on you, standing up to his full height to tower over you once more, “--is to shut the fuck up and strip.”
You gulped aloud, throat bobbing as suddenly all defiance bubbled away with the weight of his gaze. And so you pulled off your t-shirt, exposing your soft mounds and already pebbled nipples. You watched Caleb's eyes immediately dart to the view, mouth ever so slightly parting. And to finish the job, you pulled off your shorts, now entirely bare and exposed to the volatile man in front of you.
You saw him mutter a faint ‘fuck’ under his breath before he swiftly unbuttoned his trousers, tugging them off along with his boxers as his eager dick took no time or convincing to immediately spring up, massive with veins running down its length, and a flushed tip that was already drooling.
His hand, still having the tie wrapped around it, went back to gripping your hair and tugging your face closer, as the other grabbed the base of his own dick and smacked it across your cheek. The contact made your pussy clench around nothing, and a soft whimper escaped your lips.
“Go on.”
A part of you wanted to prove yourself, that you were still capable of being his good girl. So you immediately went to work, wrapping your lips around his tip and slowly feeding his entire length into your mouth.
“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” you looked up at him through your lashes, already struggling to accommodate him. “In fact– I’ll help ya.” And he pushed your head down all the way, your nose now grazing his pelvis.
You gagged, hard. But his grip suggested you weren't gonna be let go of anytime soon, so you pushed through, flaring up your nostrils to breathe through your nose and relaxing your throat. Tears were now freely running down your cheeks.
Caleb let his face break just a little, with how you were looking up at him with wet cheeks and lashes, mouth stuffed full of him.
“My pretty little slut,” he gritted, letting out soft grunts as he shallowly thrusted into your mouth.
Soon enough, you regained some sanity as you got more used to his size, now more eager with the way you bobbed your head, pulling back entirely sometimes to swirl your tongue and kiss his pink tip.
But right before you were about to take him in entirely once more, you felt his grip tighten in your hair and hold your head back, making you whine at the restraint. “Ca–”
Before you could react, he posted one knee onto the mattress, pushing you to lay flat, and he held your waist and hauled you back across the bed. Immediately maneuvering you to have your face shoved into the pillows and ass held up high.
Feeling like your world was turned upside down, you took a moment to get back to your senses while you felt your wrists being tied up together. Shifting your head to get a clear view behind you, you saw the ends of his tie dangling down your hips.
SMACK
You felt a sharp stinging on your ass, immediately soothed by his warm hands caressing the skin. Yet the blooming pain only led to the dripping of your cunt getting worse, wet trails forming as slick ran down your thighs. This didn't go unnoticed by Caleb either, as his fingers traced the wetness back up to your fluttering folds, meeting no resistance as he shallowly thrusted two digits in.
“Goddammit, Pips,” Caleb sucked in a breath through his teeth, “you like being treated this way, don't you? Nasty girl.”
And with that he shoved his fingers in all the way, not giving you any time to adjust to his huge digits and immediately setting a rough pace.
“Caleb! T-too muc–”
“Don’t fucking care.”
He seemed to go even faster, pumping his fingers in and out with loud squelches. Your hips instinctively bucking into his thrusts betrayed you, but to save some semblance of dignity, you whined and squealed, still partially muffled by the pillows yet making it abundantly clear that you were, in fact, complaining about this.
Suddenly, you felt his hand pull away from you entirely, but immediately replaced by his dick spearing through you and bottoming out in one brutal thrust. This effectively silenced all your whining, letting all your grievances dissolve into breathy whimpers.
“Much better. Noisy bitch, aren't ya.” Caleb grunted, and you felt his heavy hand settle over the base of your head to push you even further into the pillows.
And after a moment of you just pulsing around his dick, pussy struggling to take all of him, he began rolling his hips against you– not pulling out yet, just tugging your hips impossibly flush against his own, almost like he wanted to nestle himself in your cervix.
“Mhmm,” Caleb moaned, leaning over to bite and suck on your shoulder, “'Missed this tight little pussy.”
“Thought about you all day, baby.” He pulled out all the way, tip almost slipping out– “Yet I come back home to you acting like a little shit.” –and he slammed back in.
That's all it took for you to come.
“But that's my own fault, isn’t it? I spoil you too much.” Caleb merely continued, like you weren't moaning and sobbing on his cock, pussy throbbing like it was trying to milk him.
“Didn't wanna sleep, did you?” He hummed contemplatively, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I guess I'll just have to fuck you till you pass out then.”
You've talked a lot about them grabbing your hair, but what about you grabbing theirs??
Also, them grabbing you by the chin is so hot too!
I think Zayne's whole life would flash before his eyes if you grabbed his hair and pulled it with the intention of like... pain? Like imagine he's eating you out and you're getting overstimulated and you just lose it and grab a fistful of his hair and pull so so so hard because you really need him to detach his mouth from your poor pussy...
Yeah, shit, he liked that a little too much.
Sylus loves it, encourages it, always has and always will. We know he's a sucker for pain and he undoubtedly loves when you fuck him up. He'll fuck you in missionary, fold you in half, just so you have no choice but to grip his slivery hair and tug and tug and tug... He doesn't care if he's bald by the end, so long as you are the one who does it.
Valko? Be so careful with his ears because that does hurt but not in a good way. He loves them scratched and pet but pulled? Oh the poor baby will whimper from genuine pain. Pull his hair or tail? He loves it, gives him the chills, makes him shiver and wanna rut into you harder.
Rafayel surprises himself with the moan that tumbles from his lips, slobbering all up your stomach as you yank him from your pussy. The way your nails dig into his scalp feels so good, the goosebumps that erupt over his skin has him panting at you to do it again, hips grinding into your leg, thigh, any surface he can reach for some sort of friction.
Xavier pulls right back, it turns into a game of tug of war. It's not that he doesn't like it, he does! But the sensation of your hands pulling his hair just sends the primal urge through him to do it back. Now, you're making out hot and heavy, teeth and tongue clashing, one hand groping his body while the other grips his hair... and vice versa.
Caleb cums from it, the pathetic bastard. God he just loves the feeling of you using him, being mean to him, bullying him in all the right ways. Why? Because it only fuels his fantasies on how he's going to get you back, tenfold. So go ahead, pull on his hair until your heart is content, he's just going to return the favor the second you cum.
(Note: these are just my own HC as I clutch onto all the hopium I can get 🙃)
-I feel like he's obviously obsessed with your scent, but especially when you're aroused and MOST DEFINITELY when you're ovulating (go ahead and let work know you gonna be out for A WHILE💅🏾)
-He knows it turns you on when he does the growl thing, so he always does it at the worst times because he thinks it's cute when you get flustered
-Don't ask how many times the occasional trip to the lab to bring him lunch ended with you bent over the table and fucked within an inch of your life cause he missed you so much😌
-Also don't ask how many pairs of panties he's accidentally shredded with his claws because he was too excited(don't worry he always replaces them🤭)
-How many of your used panties does he have stashed? The limit does not exist 😌
-He is an absolute muncher and he aint ashamed about it cause it's where your scent is the strongest. (He had a bad day at work? Munch. You got that promotion at work you were working hard towards? Munch. You yelling at him cause he clawed up your pillow cause he was in a rut while you were gone? Munching till you forget that words are even a thing anymore 😌)
-He absolutely has a size kink and loves to watch the bulge he makes when he's wrecking you.
-Makes it his personal goal to see how many times he can make you cum before he even thinks about reaching his own release. (His top score so far is 6 but he's a little bit of an over-achiever😉)
-His fav hobbies include long walks with you, cuddling with you, slutting you out so bad the only name you know is his, filling you up with more cum than you thought was humanly possible all before he knots you and cuddles you to sleep with it still inside 😌
You and Caleb are accidentally hurled two years into the future, straight into his apartment. Trapped in a closet, you’re forced to watch your future selves fuck like they’ve been starving for each other.
The art that inspired this fic: https://x.com/i/status/2077008975359525093
The heat at Grandma's house during peak summer was its own particular brand of suffering. It wasn't the same as the sharp dry heat of the city, this was heavy and wet and it made the air taste like cut grass and warm concrete. By ten in the morning you'd already sweated through your first shirt. By noon you'd given up on doing anything productive.
Which was how you and Caleb ended up in the kitchen at two in the afternoon, arguing about stupid stuff, because there was nothing else to do.
"We're out of green onions," he announced with his head inside the fridge. "And ginger. Grandma said we have to buy soy sauce and it has to be the right brand."
"Which brand?"
He turned around with an expression that said he had absolutely no idea.
"Great," you said. "Really helpful."
"She showed me once. It has a red label. Or maybe yellow." He pulled out a tote bag from the cabinet and dropped it on the counter in your direction. "We'll figure it out when we're there."
"The market is a fifteen minute walk in this heat."
"Then we should leave now."
"Caleb—"
He was already heading for the door. "Come on."
You grabbed the bag and your sunglasses and followed him out into the heat, which hit you like a wall the second you stepped off the porch.
The neighborhood was quiet on summer afternoons, everyone wanted to be inside with their fans on. You walked beside Caleb through streets you'd both known since childhood, past the park, past the corner ice cream store with the faded awning, past Mrs. Yuen's house with the wind chimes that had been making the same sound for fifteen years.
He was telling you about an incident with a new recruit that had happened at a training exercise last month and you were laughing.
"Did he get hurt?" you managed.
"Bruised his ego more than anything." Caleb pushed your sunglasses up. "Poor guy spent the rest of the session pretending it hadn't happened."
The market was cool and smelled like the same brand of air freshener they'd been using since you were ten. You grabbed a basket and split off toward the vegetables while Caleb wandered in the direction of the snack aisle, which —you'd learned over years of shared grocery runs— meant you were going to spend the next several minutes complaining about his choices.
You found the green onions. Found the ginger. Turned the corner into the snack aisle and found Caleb standing in front of the chips with two bags in his hands, deliberating.
"We don't need chips," you said.
"Yes we do."
"We have food at home."
"Chips are not food, chips are a separate category." He held them both up. "Salt and vinegar or barbecue."
"Neither. We're here for dinner ingredients."
"And chips." He put the barbecue in the basket.
You took it out. He put it back in.
"Caleb."
"It's for the walk home. You'll want some on the walk home."
"You are so—" You stopped, pointed at his chest. "Fine. One bag. And you're carrying it."
He was already reaching for a second one.
"One bag."
"Salt and vinegar for you, barbecue for me. That's technically one bag each which is—"
"That's two bags."
"One per person."
You let him keep both bags because the alternative was standing in the snack aisle for another five minutes.
The soy sauce took longer. You found the section, found approximately ten different brands, and stood there for a moment in silence.
"Red label or yellow?" you said.
"I said I wasn't sure."
"You said you'd seen it."
"I'd seen it, I didn't memorize it."
"Caleb, if we get the wrong one—"
He picked one up, turned it over, put it back. Picked up another. "This one looks right."
He put it in the basket and you picked up a different one, compared the labels side by side, and put his back and kept yours.
He switched them back the moment you turned away.
------
You were outside, bag on Caleb's shoulder, chips already open when your hunter's watch went off.
The sound cut straight through everything. Your hand was in the chip bag one second and at your holster the next, the muscle memory of it faster than conscious thought. The screen had gone red.
Wanderer detected. Class: High energy anomaly. Proximity: 100 meters.
Caleb stepped in close "Behind the market. Let's go."
You were already moving.
---
The alley ran behind a row of shops, narrow and shadowed, the air warping at the far end and that meant the Wanderer had already been there long enough to disturb local reality. You pulled your gun and kept your back to the wall, moving fast. Caleb came in on the other side, gravity already building at his hands, the air around his knuckles bending in a way that meant he was ready.
The Wanderer was enormous, the geometry of it not quite making sense no matter which angle you looked from. It moved fast for something that size, swinging a limb in your direction before you'd fully cleared the corner.
You fired twice. The shots connected and it shrieked, momentum redirected enough that the hit meant for you shattered a section of wall instead.
"Flank!" Caleb called.
You were already going wide. He pulled gravity in from the left, compressing the Wanderer's movement, slowing it just enough for you to get behind it and put three more shots into the joint where two of its limbs connected. It screamed and lurched sideways.
"Keep it off the street," you yelled over the noise.
"Working on it." He dragged it backward with a gravity pull that made the pavement crack under the force of it, steering it further into the alley.
It was not a clean fight. It kept redirecting, slamming into the walls, filling the alley with debris that you had to dodge while maintaining your sight lines.
Eventually the thing started to slow. Eventually it disappeared.
Then you saw it.
On the ground where the Wanderer had dissolved — a Protocore, small, throwing off an iridescent white that you'd never seen from a Wanderer before.
"That's not standard," Caleb said, coming to stand beside you. He crouched down to look at it without touching it. "I've never seen one this color."
"Me neither." You holstered your gun. "I should take it to HQ."
"Agreed." You crouched beside him, reaching for the core at the same time he did, and your hands closed around it simultaneously.
White light erupted.
It collapsed inward, pulling everything —sound, light, air, the alley— into a point of white noise and wind, and then nothing, a few seconds later there was a floor coming up very fast.
You hit the carpet with a thud that knocked the breath out of you.
Caleb landed beside you, one arm slamming down to catch his weight before he pushed himself up.
"Are you hurt," he said, breathing hard.
You did a fast inventory. "No. You?"
"No." He looked up. Looked around.
You were inside a huge apartment. Carpeted floor and warm light from the windows. A long couch. A coffee table with papers on it. A mug. A jacket draped over the back of a chair.
Someone's apartment.
You stood up slowly. Caleb was already at the bookshelf, and you followed, and then you saw the first photo and everything in your chest felt strange.
It was you. You and Caleb, standing somewhere sunny, laughing at something out of frame. You were wearing a jacket you didn't own. His hair was slightly different, grown out and pushed back.
There were more. The two of you at a restaurant, faces close across a small table. A shot of you asleep on a couch, and Caleb sitting at the other end with a book, but whoever had taken the photo had caught him looking at you and not at the page.
Your throat felt tight.
"This is my apartment," Caleb said quietly, from somewhere to your left.
You turned to look at him. He was looking at the leather jacket on the chair. His leather jacket, the one currently in his wardrobe back at the base. A pilot's manual on the shelf, the same one he'd been working through. A mug from the Farspace Fleet. A framed photo of your grandmother that matched the one at home.
"The photos—" you started.
"I know."
He crossed to the coffee table, picked up the newspaper and scanned the top page. He held it out.
The date at the top was two years from now. Exactly two years.
---
You spent the rest of the afternoon going through the apartment with careful attention, very aware you were somewhere you weren't supposed to be. You were trying to understand what the last two years had produced.
Caleb's future self left notes everywhere. Fridge, desk, bathroom mirror. His handwriting but with a different quality to it, more settled. There were more photos than you'd first noticed — tucked into the edges of the mirror in the hallway, stuck to the inside of a cabinet. A birthday card in your handwriting on the desk, standing open. A second toothbrush in the bathroom.
You both looked at that for a moment.
"I'm not going to say anything about any of this," you said finally, standing in the kitchen with your arms crossed.
"Good call," Caleb said, from the doorway.
"I'm —this is a lot of information."
"It is."
"And I'm not drawing any conclusions."
He went quiet.
The sun went down. The apartment went from warm gold to dark while you sat on the floor of the living room eating crackers you'd found in the cabinet, your backs against the couch, the Protocore sitting on the coffee table throwing faint white light across the ceiling.
"We'll figure out how to get back," Caleb said.
"I know."
"Same energy that brought us here should be able to—"
"Caleb, I know. I'm not panicking."
He looked at you sideways. "You're quieter than your normal quiet."
"I'm just thinking."
He nodded slowly. Ate a cracker. Didn't push it, he knew when to let something sit. Almost two decades of knowing each other and he'd learned exactly where the lines were.
You were about to say something else when you heard it.
Voices outside.
Both of you were on your feet before the door handle moved. Caleb stepped toward the entryway on pure instinct and you grabbed his arm with both hands and pulled.
"Don't," you said, low and fast.
"I just want to see—"
"You cannot make contact with yourself. Do you understand what that does to the timeline? Do you understand what happens if you alter something?"
"I wasn't going to —"
"Caleb." You got in front of him, hands on his chest, looking up at him with full seriousness. "We hide. Right now. We have to wait."
He looked at the door. The handle was starting to move.
"Fine," he said before he grabbed the protocore and then your wrist to pull you toward the hallway closet in two long strides, opening it fast and pulling you in after him, easing the door shut.
The closet was full. Coats, bags, a stack of boxes on the floor that immediately became a problem because you had nowhere to step back, which meant you were now pressed against Caleb from your shoulders to your knees.
You could feel every breath he took.
"This is very small," you whispered.
"I know," he said, directly behind your ear.
His arms were on either side of you because there was nowhere else for them. His chin was above your head. You could feel him making adjustments to keep whatever minimal distance physics was willing to offer, and it was working as well as you'd expect. Which was not well.
You were two childhood friends in a closet in an apartment that was apparently his, two years in the future, surrounded by photographic evidence of something neither of you had said out loud yet, and he was doing his very best not to press against you and his very best was losing badly to the laws of spatial reasoning.
The front door opened.
Through the slats of the closet door, the living room light clicked on.
"I told you." Your own voice, but looser, threaded through with laughter that had a very specific quality to it. "I told you we shouldn't have had that last drink."
"Yeah," came the reply. Caleb's voice, except it was rougher and stripped of the easy warmth you knew and replaced with something that made the back of your neck prickle. "You were flirting with the bartender just to watch me lose it."
"Maybe I was." Future you sounded unrepentant about this.
Through the slats you watched two people stumble into the living room and your brain took several seconds to process what your eyes were seeing. She was in a dress, form fitting, gorgeous, currently half unzipped down the back. Future Caleb had shed his jacket somewhere between the door and the living room, his shirt untucked with half the buttons open, chest visible, hair slightly wrecked.
Behind you, Caleb had gone completely rigid. You felt it happen, every muscle in his body locking up at once.
Then future Caleb grabbed future you by the waist and walked her backward into the living room wall.
The impact was loud. What followed was louder, the sound of them kissing, which was not the word for what was happening, kissing implied something with more restraint than this. Future Caleb had his hands in her hair and on her waist and sliding down to bunch the fabric of her dress up her thighs, all at the same time.
You made a sound you hadn't planned on making.
Caleb's hand came over your mouth so fast you didn't even see it coming, his palm pressing firm and warm against your lips, his forearm across your collarbone. His chest was heaving against your back and something else was pressing against the small of your back that you were both absolutely not acknowledging.
You made a muffled sound against his hand anyway.
His arm tightened.
Future Caleb pulled back just far enough to speak "You want to play games tonight?" A pause, heavy with intent. "Let's find out how loud I can make you scream."
He pushed his hand up her skirt.
You'd never made that sound in your life. Or apparently you would. In two years. Against that wall.
"Caleb—wait, wait—the couch—"
That was it. That was enough. Your hand shot out in the dark and found the closet door handle and you grabbed it.
Caleb's hand came off your mouth and closed around your wrist, pulling it back against you, his mouth dropping to your ear.
"Don't you dare," he breathed.
"We have to stop watching this—" you hissed.
"If you open that door they'll see us—"
"Then they see us—"
"And alter the timeline," he said. "Your words. Two minutes ago."
He was right and it was the worst possible moment for him to be right.
"Just—" His voice came out strained "Just don't move."
"Caleb—"
"I'm a guy, and you are literally grinding into me," he snapped softly, though there was no real anger in it. His forehead dropped briefly to the back of your head. "Just..." sigh "give me a second."
Outside the closet Caleb lifted her clean off the floor. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her the few steps to the couch and dropped her onto it.
His hands yanked the straps of her dress down, baring her breasts. He pinched a nipple, and she arched with a sharp cry. "You are so fucking wet already. Been thinking about my cock all day? Want me to stretch that pretty pussy out right here?"
"Yes—fuck, Caleb, touch me," she gasped, hips grinding up.
Your breath hitched. Heat flooded between your legs, sudden and embarrassing. Caleb's cock twitched against your ass and you had to bite your lip to stay quiet.
Future Caleb reached down and shoved his pants off. You couldn't look away. He was big, thick, flushed, veins standing out. Ready.
Panic hit you. "Don't look," you whispered frantically. "That's... me. Turn around or do something—"
"Like hell," he said against your ear, teeth grazing the shell. "You're the one staring. You like seeing him like that? Seeing what I— what he wants to do to you?"
"Caleb, shut up," you whimpered, thighs pressing together.
He didn't fuck her right away. He grabbed her ankles, yanked her to the edge of the couch, and spread her wide. Dropped to his knees.
"Caleb—" she started, but it dissolved into a broken moan as he buried his face between her legs.
The sound of his tongue working her was loud and messy, completely shameless. Her head dropped back against the cushions, fingers twisted tight into the fabric, her whole body shaking every time he dragged his tongue over her clit in greedy strokes. He licked broad stripes up her slit before focusing on her clit again, sucking it into his mouth with a low groan.
"Fuck, you taste so good,”Caleb growled against her pussy, voice muffled but clear enough to carry.
"Just like that baby” she moaned, one hand fisting his hair, the other still twisting in the couch cushion.
He pinched her nipple hard with his free hand, rolling it between his fingers as he sucked harder. Her thighs trembled around his head.
Behind you, Caleb let out a broken groan that made your knees go soft. His arm snapped around your waist, holding you steady, fingers digging into your hip the exact same way his future self was gripping her out there.
“Fuck,” you whispered, head falling back against his shoulder before you could stop yourself. Your pussy was throbbing, aching so bad it almost hurt.
“Listen to that. Listen to how wet you get for me.” Caleb shifted his hips, grinding the thick ridge of his cock against your ass through your jeans, dragging the seam right over your soaked cunt.
On the couch, she was losing it. "I need you inside me. I can’t wait anymore.”
Future Caleb pulled back, mouth shiny, breathing hard. He stroked himself once, twice, then lined up and drove into her in one rough thrust. Her legs wrapped around him as he started fucking her deep and hard, the couch creaking like it might give out any second. His back and ass flexed with every thrust, hips snapping forward. “Gonna come on my cock like a good girl?”
He leaned over her, one hand pinning her thigh higher as he fucked her. “Gonna fill you up. Want you leaking my cum the rest of the night. You love being my dirty little slut, don’t you? Say it.”
“Oh my god,” you choked, voice barely there. Watching yourself get railed like that—by him—was too much. The guy whose arms were currently locked around your waist, the same guy you’d known since you were kids, was pounding into a future version of you like he owned her.
She gasped between moans, nails now digging into his back. “Yes—your slut, Caleb—harder—”
“That’s my girl.” His hips snapped faster “Come on my cock like you did last night."
In the closet, Caleb’s forehead dropped to your shoulder, his cock twitched hard against your ass, hips making tiny, helpless thrusts.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away, every filthy word making the ache between your legs worse.
“Jesus,” Caleb whispered raggedly “We really talk like that?”
You twisted hard, trying to turn around in the cramped space so you wouldn’t have to see it anymore.
“Stop moving,” Caleb gasped, his control fraying fast as your ass rubbed right over the head of his cock.
“I can’t watch this—let me turn—”
Your foot caught on a heavy boot buried in the mess at the bottom of the closet. Balance gone.
“Whoa—” Caleb grabbed for you, but it was too late. Your combined weight slammed into the door.
The cheap magnetic latch popped open with a sad little click.
The squeaking of the couch cut off like someone had yanked the plug on the whole universe.
The silence that followed rang in your ears. You pushed up on your elbows, face so hot you were surprised you hadn’t spontaneously combusted. Caleb was beside you, shirt rucked up, the very obvious, very hard line of his erection pressing against your thigh.
You both slowly turned your heads toward the couch.
A few meters away, future Caleb was frozen mid thrust, hands locked on future you’s hips, his body still buried deep inside her. She had one leg hooked high around his waist, hair a wild mess, chest heaving. Both of them stared at you with identical expressions of what the actual fuck.
They were a sweaty, flushed disaster, very naked and very, very mid fuck.
“What the…” future Caleb started.
Future you blinked slowly. “Is that… us?”
You opened your mouth, brain offering the most useless sentence in history. “We were just looking for soy sauce—”
The white light from the Protocore exploded again. The apartment, the couch, your naked and extremely confused future selves—all of it ripped away in a roar of rushing air.
Thud.
You hit the dirty alley hard enough to knock the wind out of you again.
Caleb groaned beside you, flat on his back, one arm flung over his eyes. His chest rose and fell in sharp pulls. You could still feel the ghost of his hardness against you, the way his fingers had dug into your hip in the closet. Your own body was still buzzing, thighs slick, pulse pounding between your legs like a second heartbeat.
For a moment, neither of you moved.
Then Caleb let out a shaky laugh that sounded half hysterical. “Soy sauce. Really?”
You rolled onto your side, wincing at the scrapes on your elbows. “It was the first thing that came to mind, okay? We just watched ourselves— I mean, they— we were—” You gestured vaguely, face burning all over again. “You know.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know.”
He sat up slowly and ran a hand through his hair. The front of his shorts was still a bit tented. He didn’t bother trying to hide it. You weren’t exactly in a position to judge, your nipples were tight against your shirt, and you were pretty sure your face was the color of a ripe tomato.
The protocore gave one last weak shimmer and dissolved into harmless blue dust that scattered across the pavement.
Caleb looked at you. “So… two years from now, huh?”
You swallowed. “Apparently we, uh… figured some things out.”
He huffed another laugh, but it was softer this time. Almost wondering. He reached over and brushed a bit of alley dirt off your cheek with his thumb. The touch lingered.
“We should probably go”
You nodded, but neither of you stood up right away. The air between you felt thicker than the summer humidity, charged with everything you’d just seen and felt in that stupid closet.
Caleb’s gaze dropped to your mouth for a second, then flicked back up. “When we get back to the house…”
“Yeah?” you whispered.
He smiled, small and crooked and a little nervous, the same smile he’d given you a thousand times growing up, except this one felt different.
“I’m not waiting two years,” he said.
Your heart did something complicated in your chest.
You grabbed his hand, pulled him up with you, and the two of you started walking out of the alley like nothing had happened.
But everything had happened.
And as your fingers brushed again while you walked, neither of you pulled away.
Fem!Caleb is such a drug to me like I know her titties would be the softest pillows my cheeks have ever felt and she would caress my head like I’m a silly kid while I bury my face in them and sniff her shower gel mixed with her natural scent. And then she'd hear my sniffles and pop her nipple into my mouth for me to suck on 🤤🤤🤤
"guy who asks you if youre on birth control while he’s inside of you and cums real hard when you say no with a lil fear in your voice"
XAVIER, CALEB i'm deceased 🧎♀️➡️
✩꒱ no control ft. caleb xia .ᐟ
🏁 ꒰ ✩ smut ⋆ mdni ⋆ caleb xia & fem!reader. dubcon, implied pseudocest, baby trapping, dirty talk, creampies yay! this has been in my drafts for like a month lol original post by @xaviez ( lemme know if this is okay to post !!! )
i agreeeee super heavily on caleb in particular …
he already had to go to extreme lengths to convince you to let him fuck you without a condom. you’re both new at this — exploring this dynamic in a more romantic light. he’s lied before and you have to work up the courage to trust he’ll pull out if needed. i imagine the first time he sinks in all hard, and raw, and pulsing it’s difficult for him to hold back, dragging his seedy tip along your welcoming walls that refuse to let him go. he’s probably dreamed about it too, filling you up with so much cum that it just pours out of you, covers your precious pussy in cream.
“are you close?” he gasps for air like it’s been stolen from him, peppering feather light kisses over your teary face. “can we cum at the same time?”
and you’re probably nodding without realising, fucked out and high on fumes that smell just like him. just like sex. scratching stripes down caleb’s broad back — just so completely gone and lost in him.
“don’t think i can pull out, pips,” he says, teeth gritted. “‘m gonna cum inside. deep inside this perfect little hole. my perfect baby. soo close.”
“w-wait, caleb — o-ooh yes! i’m not — i haven’t taken m-my pill yet!” your response is a stuttered snivel — babyish in nature that reminds him of why he loves you so much. even when you ball your fists against his sweaty chest, you’re not really trying to push him away. it’s the same as when you were children, you’d huff and puff at caleb— throw a tantrum for little things, expect him to fix it later on. if anything were to happen, caleb would fix it. “caleb, you promised.”
except he isn’t too keen on fixing anything this time. what will be, will be. fantasies from back then, from his time in the academy and time away from you run rampant at the forefront of his mind muddy his guilty conscience until he’s free. for only a second. if he cums inside you, he can keep you — line you up with seed and make it stick with every forceful punch of his hips into yours. you clench around the thickest part of him, at the base, like you want it too, keeping him trapped along your weeping walls.
if it sticks … you stay.
you can’t seem to pull caleb from the lustful lull of his guilty desires even when you bite and scratch at him — feverish with panic. it’s a pathetic cry for help, a desperate sob but it’s not like either of you could stop if you really wanted to. you’re addicted to the way he fills you, sweet words poured hotly into your mouth between kisses, brown hair tickling your neck because he’s chosen solace there.
and it’s not that the colonel doesn’t care. not that he doesn’t fear the worst. it’s just that he loves the risk, the idea of knocking you up so that no one else can have you. so that he can keep you on skyhaven for the rest of time and never have to worry about you slipping away like a faded memory. you’ll belong wholly to caleb.
“c-caleb, you can’t. you have to — gotta pull out!” you cry but you clamp down again. torn between to worlds with only him to decide.
“don’t think i can,” he whispers into your neck like it’s a secret. how badly he wants to ruin your life. “don’t wanna… have to. have to fill you up with all of me.”
worst part is he doesn’t even apologise for cumming inside. the bed screams with him as his release shoots through him, rope after rope of opaque white smearing over your sex and rippling walls — that milk him without any resistance. instead, caleb’s wet mouth trails whispers of thank you and i love you along your skin accompanied by the grin that lets the gratitude pass through.
he’s just grateful that you’re exactly the same as him. just as bad as him. closer to a sinner than you are to a saint.
end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!
18+ mdni | finding caleb’s old journal wasn’t anything exciting, but seeing that he wanted you in ways you never thought of definitely was.
TW. grief, invasion of privacy fr, titty sucking!!!, p in v, raw, USE OF GEGE
after josephine passed, you took it upon yourself to sort through her belongings, carefully organizing everything into keep, donate, and trash piles. the work seemed doable, easy even—the distance naturally strained your relationship after you moved out, so you felt apathetic more than anything when you heard the news.
once you started though, it was obvious you’d been mistaken. every item brought back a flood of memories, pulling you further into the past. it felt as though a piece of you had gone missing with her, thoughts drifting back to the woman who raised you.
you weren’t only mourning her death, you were mourning the life that existed while she was still here—the familiar routines, the warmth of home, the childhood you shared with caleb. all those years spent growing up side by side, finding your way through the world together no matter which paths you eventually chose for yourselves.
pivotal moments of your life flashed through your mind, both caleb and josephine present for every one of them. before you even realized it, tears began to streak down your face. you swiped at your cheeks, trying to brush away the wetness to no avail. each drop was followed by several more, staining your top as you shrunk into yourself. you scrambled for your phone, immediately thinking to call caleb as your sniffles turned into sobs. your chest heaved with each ring, waiting for the familiar click that meant he’d answered the phone.
“hey pips”
his voice soothed you, calming you enough to stutter out ramblings of how you thought you didn’t care that she was gone, that this would be easy. he listened as you spoke tenderly about your late caregiver, forgiving her for wrongdoings you couldn’t look past when she was still here. once your voice began to trail off, he finally responded.
“my girl’s all grown up now”, he chuckled, proud of how mature you sounded even as you cried between each word. “i know how conflicting it is. wasn’t even sure if i wanted to come back when i remembered everything, but im not gonna leave you to do this alone”. you nodded your head, forgetting he couldn’t see you. the two of you exchanged a few more words before saying h e would be there in a couple of hours, asking you to wait until he arrived before continuing. “let the grief settle, we’ll do this together.”
you sat with the silence for a few minutes, simply taking it all in. deciding fresh air would help you reset, you moved to open a window. cool air rushed in, brushing against your face and easing the tightness in your chest. when you turned back to the room, the mess was exactly where you’d left it. boxes, papers, and memories piled around you. with a quiet sigh, you returned to work, knowing it needed to be done.
most of the afternoon passed in silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of paper and creak of old floorboards. boxes that hadn’t been touched in years were stacked around you, their contents carrying the scent of dust and time. you had just started working through a box labelled ‘caleb’s stuff’ when a particularly harsh gust of wind scattered old photographs and school papers across the room, revealing a worn notebook buried beneath them. years in storage had torn at its edges, wrinkling the cover and creasing the pages inside. its condition nearly led you to throw it out until your fingers stilled when you recognized the familiar cursive of caleb’s name sprawled across the side. you quickly flipped through the pages, dust blowing into your face as you realized it was his journal.
you knew you shouldn’t read it. the thought alone should’ve been enough to make you close it and put it where you’d found it. instead, you stared down at the worn cover resting in your lap.
before you could convince yourself otherwise, you were already turning to the first page.
property of caleb xia
his contact info was written below it, DAA email hinting at how long ago it was.
the first few pages were exactly what you’d expected—complaints about school, notes about training, little observations about his day. some of them even made you laugh, hearing his voice so clearly despite the years that had passed.
you almost snapped a picture to tease him with when an entry mentioning you caught your eye.
today she stole half my fries and acted like i was the one robbing her. i put up a fight just to see her get annoyed.
a smile tugged at your lips.
she fell asleep on the couch again. gran told me to wake her up, but i think she’s more comfortable here bc of the storm.
your fingers paused against the page.
i don’t think she realizes how pretty she looks when she’s talking about something she likes.
her eyes get all big and she can barely make it through one story before going on a tangent about something else. i wanted to kiss her so bad that i had to kick her out using ‘homework’ as an excuse.
you reread the entry once, twice, three times, looking for hints it was about someone else. the further you read though, the harder it became to convince yourself you were misunderstanding, because the entries didn’t stop—every page only made it clearer.
gideon stayed for dinner and i saw her bite her lip when he talked about how much she’d grown. pissed me off. i say it allll the fucking time but she never blushes with me.
then, an entry from two days later.
came home from the gym and was telling her about my pr when she came out of the shower wearing MY shirt. wasn’t even a clean one too, probably picked up the first one she saw. christ, sometimes i feel like she WANTS me to just bend her over and—
your attention was ripped from the journal as your phone rang. caleb’s name flashed on the screen for a minute before you picked it up with shaking fingers.
“h-hello?” your voice trembled, somehow convinced he could hear the guilt and immediately clock what you’d been doing.
“hey pips. gonna be a bit late, weather started to get bad so my ride got delayed”
your eyes drifted back to the journal as you listened, humming every so often to pretend you were paying attention.
“you have the key right?” you asked, listening for confirmation. “i’m probably gonna clean a bit more then shower, just let yourself in whenever”.
the two of you exchanged pleasantries before he finally let you go, your device vibrating with a follow up message from him saying he “can’t wait to see you”. you meant to respond, but the journal weighed heavy in your lap. you threw your phone to the side and laid back with the journal in your hands, trying to immerse yourself into past caleb’s mindset.
finally spring break. was so tired the first day back but she begged me to take her to the beach. i genuinely almost came on the spot when i saw the purple bikini she chose.
you felt heat bloom between your legs at the first truly explicit comment, heart racing as you skipped to the next passage.
last day off so we had a movie night. i turned on sinister bc of the jumpscares and every single one had her pushing up against me. haven’t even been hiding how hard i am lately so i wonder if she does it on purpose? like does she get wet teasing me like that??? bet it tastes so good from the source, idk what i’m gonna do when i won’t even have her panties w me back at the academy.
sometimes i feel like she wants me to make the first move but i dont wanna lose her if im wrong.
i wish i didnt have to go back.
i wish she could come with me.
i wish we were more than we are right now.
the last few sentences made your heart ache, the yearning and pure adoration he felt evident with every word. you knew you should’ve stopped reading ages ago, but still you found yourself turning the page, barely registering the sound of the front door unlocking.
“pips?”
your head snapped up as his voice carried through the house, footsteps climbing the staircase.
“are you still up here baby?” he called, “thought you would’ve gone to bed?”
panic shot through you as your eyes darted around the attic, searching for anywhere to hide the journal. the worn notebook nearly slipped from your hands as you scrambled to think.
his footsteps got louder while you briefly considered shoving it down your pants. before you could commit to the idea though, caleb appeared at the top of the ladder, still dressed in his colonel uniform.
“hi sweet girl” he murmured, a fond smile forming on his face. he walked towards where you’d gotten comfortable, crouching down to ruffle your hair. “how come you’re still awake?”
your mouth opened, then closed again, hands tightly gripping the journal.
“um, was tryna clean so we had more time to just hang out” you managed, hoping he believed the lame response.
his expression softened instantly, a gloved hand coming to cup your cheek.
“you sap”, he laughed, standing to his full height and reaching out a hand. “let’s get ready for bed, we’ll do this tomorrow, yeah?”
you nodded, slipping your hand into his. the second his attention drifted, you tossed the journal into the darkest corner of the attic, a dull thump echoing across the room.
thankfully, old houses were always making noises, so if caleb noticed, he didn’t say anything. he simply squeezed your hand and guided you towards the ladder.
you followed close behind, doing your best to not think about the notebook hidden upstairs or the words still echoing in your head.
just moments later, the attic hatch closed above you, leaving the journal in darkness.
you couldn’t sleep that night. all you could think of every time you shut your eyes was the unbridled longing between the covers of that godforsaken notebook. every little action you previously chalked up to being ‘the perfect gege’ now carried new meaning.
the stupid nicknames, hugs that went on a little too long, the way he always gave you the last bite of his food, saying he “wasn’t hungry anymore”.
you groaned into your pillow, stomach twisting as you chided yourself for being so fucking stupid.
—
the smell of pancakes woke you in the morning, a familiar mix of vanilla and caleb’s ‘special ingredient’ (it was just cinnamon, he really wasn’t as clever as he thought) luring you out of bed. you padded downstairs in an old hoodie of his, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as he came into your view. you wrapped your arms around his broad figure hunched over the stove while taking him in. he was wearing his old running outfit, the colonel version of him hidden as he began looking like your caleb once again.
the muscles of his back tensed before he turned towards you, chuckling at the pout you wore while looking up at him.
“look who’s finally up.” he spoke, laughing at the way you rolled your eyes and pushed yourself off him.
“sorry i’m not a tryhard who gets up early”
you tried to bully him but somehow made him sound good. mumbling a ‘whatever’, you walked to the table and sat back, waiting for him to serve you.
a couple more minutes passed before he finally set a plate of golden pancakes in front of you, an iced chai following before you even had to ask.
“still not a coffee person, right?”
you nodded and tried to ignore the way your heart raced at his kind gesture, quickly grabbing the mug and covering the flush that bloomed on your cheeks.
breakfast continued in silence, the only sound heard being your collective chewing. you took the time to appreciate his masculine features, now seeing him as more than just the boy you grew up with. even the furrow of his eyebrow felt new, awakening longing in the deepest parts of your body you’d never felt before.
your heart squeezed as you began to spiral. did he still feel the same? why did you have to ruin everything by reading something so personal, god you were going to hell for this and it was deserv—
“you okay?”
you blinked several times before fumbling with your utensils, trying to look normal and failing desperately.
“w-what?” you mumbled, shoving multiple pieces of pancakes into your mouth before looking back into the violet eyes that were haunting you.
“you’ve been staring at me for like a minute, i got something on my face?” he asked, making a cocky display of hollowing his cheeks and stroking his jawline with the tip of his finger.
not responding for a beat too long and earning a questioning look from caleb, you spat out “s-sorry no jus’ zoned out”
“on my face?” he teased, flicking your forehead before focusing on his food once more. you knew it was a rhetorical question, one that didn’t need or warrant an answer—but for some reason you still found yourself responding. “yeah”
it was his turn to hide a blush now, biting his lip to suppress a happy smile. “weirdo”
the rest of breakfast passed in a blur, the air going stale with awkwardness. deciding to split up tasks to make everything go quicker, caleb offered to finish up the attic while you cleaned the kitchen. you tried resisting, saying you already started it, but it was no use—he didn’t want you to cry like yesterday again. asshole.
you listened to his footsteps climb the stairs, floorboards creaking as he began to work on the items. in less than an hour caleb had neatly organized nearly every box, now left with trashing the final items. he picked up some scattered papers here and there before pausing over a very familiar book, free of dust and dogeared to a page he remembered writing out.
bet it tastes so good from the sou-
the journal fell from shaky hands, a loud curse leaving his lips as it landed on his toes. he pinched the bridge of his nose, your strange act at breakfast now making perfect sense. still—caleb hoped, he prayed that by some miracle of god you didn’t read it. maybe if he ignored it like he ignored his feelings for you all these years, everything would be normal.
not giving it another thought, caleb quickly threw out the journal. “i’m sorry” he mumbled, unsure if he was speaking to you or his past self.
just as he contemplated fishing through the trash for it, too sentimental to dismiss his younger version’s struggles this easily, you bounced up the stairs carrying a water bottle.
“you okay?” you questioned, handing him a bottle of water. he nodded hesitantly before reaching for it, taking a sip and feeling a droplet run down his throat. your eyes never left him, trailing after the stray water with deep focus.
“looks good” you spoke dreamily, still staring at the collar of his shirt where the drop disappeared. “i-i mean the attic, um…you did it fast” you clarified, stumbling over your words before grabbing a broom and moving to sweep the dust.
caleb chuckled uncomfortably as he began stacking the boxes to keep, always having an eye on the bag of trash carrying his deepest secrets. somehow though, you kept finding ways to be close to him. intentionally or not—you were constantly going up to him, offering to help carry stuff you knew he didn’t need any help with.
at one point you tried to brush away some cobwebs you swore were on his head, pulling away after seeing the skeptical look he gave you.
“sorry” you mumbled, not able to look in his eyes.
“for what?”
you shrugged dejectedly, still not facing him. “nothing i guess”
before he could question you any more, you ran off to the washroom, leaving caleb with his thoughts.
—
by the time evening rolled around the attic was empty, and the two of you had washed away the dust with memories buried between it off your body. you collapsed on the couch next to each other, his arm thrown around your shoulders as he reached for the remote.
“horror?” he asked, speaking into the crown of your head.
you hummed in agreement, nuzzling further into his side. you inhaled deeply, noticing the way he tensed before pressing you closer. caleb turned on sinister without hesitation, throwing the remote aside and covering the two of you with a blanket.
twenty minutes into the movie and you were entangled with his body, legs resting atop his and arms gripping his waist tightly. at first you used the excuse of being “scared”, but you’d seen this movie fifty times. the jumpscares had no effect on you. still, you flinched in his touch with every loud noise, too aware of his hand resting dangerously close to your hip. you readjusted yourself until you were basically being cradled, finally causing him to pause the movie while clearing his throat.
“pips?”
you tucked your face against his chest before humming in response.
“did you read my old journal?”
you froze in his hold, unsure of how to respond. if you said yes, he’d know you saw all the…stuff. but if you said no, you’d have to explain why you were finally acting on thoughts you used to hate yourself for having.
“maybe?”
he sighed, holding you closer and resting his head upon yours. “i figured. i’m really, really sorry.”
his apology finally had you looking up “you’re sorry?”
he bit his lip and shrugged, still embarassed. “i didn’t mean it okay, i was a stupid 17 year old.”
you lifted an eyebrow.
“okay fine 18.” he paused, hoping you’d be satisfied. “fine 19. the point is—“
you giggled, tension finally slipping from your shoulders.
“i know it was bad, but i don’t want you to feel like you owe me anyth-“
“i love you”
you both spoke at the same time, interrupting each other.
silence followed as you waited for him to respond, regretting your words with every second that passed. finally, caleb lifted one hand to point at himself with his mouth agape. “m-me?”
it was the first time you’d seen him genuinely bewildered. you nodded as tears began to build, expecting a rejection to come.
“oh my god i take it back, i meant all of it and more. pips, i love you so—hey why are you crying?!”
you laughed at the alarm in his voice, letting him swipe away your tears. “i-i felt so much shame…always felt so sick and being here jus’ made it all come back.”
he nodded as you spoke, eyes flicking from yours to your trembling lips. “i’m sorry…god we wasted so much time”
you laughed again, wrapping your arms around his neck before resting your forehead on his. you sat like that, breathing each others air before he broke the silence.
“can i kiss you” caleb asked, lips already brushing yours with each word. you nodded eagerly, earning a chuckle from him.
he closed the distance between your mouths, gently pressing his lips on yours and feeling every version of him cheer as he finally got the girl of his dreams.
you moved back, looking into his eyes once more.
“again?”
you giggled at the question, closing the distance yourself this time and feeling his groan rumble through you. his tongue traced the seam of your lips, exploring with purpose once you gave him access. he licked against every part of your mouth, entwining his strong muscle with yours. a string of spit connected you when you pulled away from each other, lips puffy and red.
you grinded against him without meaning to, whining at the feeling of his hard length against your clothed heat.
“fuck” he groaned, letting his head fall back against the couch as you repeated the motion, letting your lips trail down his neck. “s-so fuckin good”
you focused on the spot that had him bucking against you, alternating between biting the sensitive skin and soothing it with your tongue.
“ngh…gege” you moaned into his skin, the endearing term making him pull you back with a hand in your hair.
“fuck, can i please take this off?” he asked, fingers playing with the hem of your top.
you nodded quickly, helping him rip it off you and throwing it to the side. you thanked your past self for skipping a bra after your shower, the warm hands cupping your breasts leaving you dripping.
“so fucking cute, used to think of these pretty tits all day” he confessed, pelvis continuing to meet your bounces above him. you moaned at his words, placing your hands on his shoulders for stability as you sped up. “r-really?”
“mhm. i couldn’t write down half the stuff i wanted to do, always felt too bad.” you whined at the words, nails gripping his shoulders tightly. “would imagine sucking on your pretty tits, playing with your pussy and watching you cum”
you nodded rapidly, gasping when he pinched your nipples. finally, caleb ran his tongue down towards your breasts, sucking on one of the perky buds while cruelly tweaking the other. the dual stimulation was too much for you, finally reaching your peak above him, body trembling as the waves of pleasure crashed over you.
he let you ride out your high before bringing his head up once more, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.
“do you want more?”
his hands slowly ran up and down your skin, soothing your nerves and letting you decide. you nodded while still catching your breath, watching in awe as he ripped his clothes off. “thank god, you don’t even know what you do to me.”
you stared at his chiseled figure, lifting your hips so he could take off your pants. your eyes trailed down his body before finally landing on the giant hard cock between his legs, his hand pumping it gently and rubbing the bead of slick at the tip around the rest of his length.
you gulped while watching him, back arching when he ran his tip between your pussy lips. “f-fuck, gege please”
he moaned at that, a whine of your name leaving his lips as the last of his restraint finally broke.
he slowly pushed his tip into you, the shear stretch of just the first inch making your eyes water. you gripped the couch below you, knuckles whitening with the force you used.
“doin’ so good, know you can take it” caleb spoke from above you, eyes locked on where you met, one hand rubbing your clit to ease the pressure.
“f-faster, get it over with”
he shook his head, unsure of whether he was denying it for your wellbeing or his. tired of how long he was taking, you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him to you, a scream ripping from your throat as he was buried to the hilt. his eyes shot open as his body curled over you, trying to think of anything to avoid shooting his load prematurely.
the two of you moaned, surprised at how full you were. “s-so big” you cried, tears rolling down your face as he slowly pulled out to push back in.
“maybe if you weren’t a fuckin brat…” he began, cut off as he became entranced by the way your cunt constantly sucked him back in.
without a warning caleb increased his pace, shushing you and apologizing for being rough but not slowing down.
“sorry, fuck baby, i’m so sorry jus’ feel so good, been waiting for you forever”
you pulled him for a kiss to quiet his ramblings, trying not to scream as he began fucking into you ferociously. the old couch you were situated began to squeak as it moved against the floor, creaking with every inch it moved.
“c-close” you whined, already nearing your peak once more as his thumb rapidly rubbed against your clit.
“please baby, cum for me i need it, please fuck—“
his pleas were cut off with a gush of fluid from your heat, immediately triggering his own orgasm and leading to his body falling on top of yours. the sound of your heavy breathing filled the room, laying with each other as he pressed tender kisses to your shoulder.
you giggled at the immediate change in his demeanour, running a hand through his hair. just as he opened his mouth to speak, the movie suddenly resumed and caused both of you to let out a loud scream at the sudden jumpscare. caleb scrambled for the remote and shut the tv off, leaning back over you and giggling at the way your hearts raced in tandem.
2,723 words * ˛ ✦ ･ Caleb spreads his palm across her stomach, feeling the subtle rise and fall of her breathing, the gentle flutter of her pulse beneath his thumb. "You have no idea," he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice a low vibration that he hopes drifts into her dreams. "No idea what you do to me. Walking around this house in these little shorts, these little shirts. Do you know how many times I've had to take myself in hand in the shower, thinking about you just like this? Soft and warm and mine?"
WARNINGS: third person pov (fem!reader), alternate universe – pre-canon, canon-typical pseudo-incest, (non-consensual) somnophilia, DAA!caleb, groping, fingering, grinding, heavy dirty talk, cum-eating, pervert!caleb, panty-stealing.
The afternoon light filters through the kitchen windows in thin, golden bars that leave stripes across the worn hardwood floors, and Caleb closes the front door behind him carefully, his DAA flight jacket unzipped and hanging open over a sweat-dampened white t-shirt, the scent of jet fuel and synthetic training cockpit air still clinging to his skin. He drops his keys into the ceramic bowl on the side table—a ritual, always the same—and the sound is muffled, swallowed by the empty house.
"Gran?" he calls softly, though he already knows the answer.
The note on the front door had said it clearly enough:
Visiting Margaret. Back Sunday. Dinner in the fridge. Love, Gran.
Just him and her; just them, alone, together.
He rounds the corner into the living room and stops, his breath catching in his throat with the familiar sharpness that has become his constant companion these past few years, ever since he realized that the protective warmth in his chest had twisted into something darker, hungrier, something that wakes him in the night with his hand wrapped around himself and her name on his lips.
She is sprawled on the couch, one arm dangling off the edge, her fingers brushing the carpet, the other tucked beneath her cheek. She is smaller than him—she always has been, and she always will be—and the oversized sleep shirt she wears has ridden up to expose the soft curve of her stomach, the waistband of her sleep shorts sitting low on her hips. Her breathing is deep and even, lips parted slightly, hair fanned out across the cushion in a mess that makes his fingers twitch with the need to touch, to tangle, to pull.
Caleb stands frozen for a moment, the weight of his bag sliding from his shoulder to thud quietly against the floor, immediately forgotten in the face of this.
The house is silent except for his heart and the soft sound of her breathing.
Gran is gone for three days.
No one is watching, and no one will know.
His heart hammers against his ribs as he crosses the room, each step is deliberate, his boots are silent on the rug. He stands over her, looking down at the face he has known since childhood, the face he has watched transform from a gap-toothed child into this—this woman who haunts his every thought, his every dream, his every dirty fantasy.
She calls him gege, still, even now, even when the word feels like a brand on his skin, marking him as hers even as he marks her as his in the secret corridors of his mind.
"Gege's home," he whispers, so quietly it might be a thought rather than sound.
He cannot help it. He knows he should cover her with a blanket, retreat to his room, shower off the day, be the good brother she believes him to be. But the devil that lives in his chest—that possessive, obsessive creature that whispered to him when he locked her in the attic that one time, that urged him to eliminate anyone who looked at her too long at school—that creature stretches and purrs and demands that he pounce.
Caleb kneels beside the couch. His hand trembles as he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. She doesn't stir. Her skin is warm, flushed with sleep, and the urge to feel more of it, to drown in it, overwhelms his restraint.
An arm slides beneath her knees, the other behind her shoulders, and he lifts her effortlessly. She is light, always so light to him, and she makes a small sound—a whimper that sounds more like a sigh—that goes straight to his groin, making him ache with a sudden, painful hardness that presses against the zipper of his flight suit pants.
He settles himself onto the couch, arranging her carefully on top of him, her back against his chest, her head tucked beneath his chin, her legs draped over his thighs.
The position is perfect. Too perfect, in fact; her ass presses directly against the straining bulge of his cock, and he has to bite his lip to stifle a groan, his eyes falling shut as he rocks upward just slightly, just once, testing the pressure. But she settles deeper against him, trusting and pliant, her breathing unchanged.
"Good girl," he breathes against her ear, his voice barely audible. "Such a good girl for gege. Sleeping so pretty. So peaceful."
His right hand slides beneath the hem of her sleep shirt, and her skin is impossibly soft, softer than anything he has ever touched, softer than clouds or silk or the petals of the flowers he once picked for her.
Caleb spreads his palm across her stomach, feeling the subtle rise and fall of her breathing, the gentle flutter of her pulse beneath his thumb. "You have no idea," he murmurs, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice a low vibration that he hopes drifts into her dreams. "No idea what you do to me. Walking around this house in these little shorts, these little shirts. Do you know how many times I've had to take myself in hand in the shower, thinking about you just like this? Soft and warm and mine?"
His hand drifts upward, slowly, giving her time to wake, to protest, to stop him.
She doesn't.
A sigh escapes from her mouth instead, and she's pressing back against him, her head turning to nestle into the crook of his neck, and he takes it as permission—the only permission he needs in this moment where morality has fled and only want remains.
He finds her breast, fills his hand with the weight of it, and his vision spots at the edges. She is perfect, full and soft, her nipple a hardening peak against his touch as he brushes his thumb over it, circling, teasing. She arches into his touch in her sleep, a silent plea that makes him throb against her.
"That's it," he praises, his voice shaking with restraint. "You like that, don't you? Even in your dreams, you know it's me. You know gege is taking care of you."
Caleb pinches her nipple gently, rolling it between his fingers, and she whimpers, a sound that goes straight to his cock. He is so hard it hurts, trapped against her softness, and he grinds upward again, unable to stop himself, seeking friction even as he knows he should be still, should be careful, should not wake her to find him like this. "Look at you," he whispers, his free hand sliding down her side, tracing the curve of her hip, slipping beneath the loose waistband of her sleep shorts. "So wet already. Even asleep, your body knows. It knows who it belongs to, who has always owned it, even when I pretended to be the good brother. Fuck, baby, I was never good. I was just waiting; waiting for moments like this when I could have you without you looking at me with those eyes and seeing the monster I've become."
His fingers find her heat, slick and swollen and hot, and he has to press his face into her hair to muffle his groan.
She is drenched, absolutely soaked, and the realization that she is this wet in her sleep, that her body responds to him even in an unconscious state, shatters what little control he has left. "Jesus, look at this," he breathes, spreading her folds with two fingers, circling her clit with the lightest touch, watching her face for any sign of waking. She only breathes deeper, her hips shifting slightly, seeking more. "Soaked for me. This pretty little cunt is weeping, isn't it? Crying because it wants gege's cock. Because it knows who it belongs to."
He presses a finger inside her, slow and steady, feeling her walls clench around him, hot and tight and perfect.
She makes a sound and he freezes, his heart pounding, but her eyes remain closed, her face peaceful, lost in whatever dreamscape he has invaded.
"Good girl," he croons, beginning to move his finger, curling it to find the spot that makes her squirm, even unconscious. "Taking gege's finger so well. So tight, and so fucking perfect. You were made for this—made for me. I knew it the first time I saw you looked at me. I knew I would ruin you, ruin us; and I don't care—I don't care as long as I can have this, as long as I can feel you come apart on my hand while you dream of me."
He adds a second finger, stretching her gently, scissoring them inside her tight heat, feeling her grow wetter around his knuckles. His other hand continues to work her breast, pinching and rolling her nipple in time with the thrust of his fingers, building a rhythm that has her hips rocking now, seeking, chasing. "That's it," he encourages, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper, his own hips bucking against her ass, grinding his cock against her through his pants, seeking the friction that will send him over the edge. "Chase that pleasure. Gege's got you. Gege's giving you what you need. This is what you want, isn't it? My fingers deep inside you, fucking you open, preparing you for when I finally take you for real. When I spread you out on my bed and eat this pretty cunt until you scream, until you can't walk, until you forget your own name and only know mine."
Caleb crooks his fingers, pressing against her sweet spot, and her breath hitches, her back arching sharply. He feels her clench, feels the flutter of her walls around his fingers, and he knows she is close, so close, hovering on the edge of orgasm even in her sleep.
"Baby, my pretty baby, cum for me," he commands, his voice shaking, his own pleasure mounting, his cock pulsing with each thrust of his hips against her softness. "Cum for gege. Let me feel it. Let me feel you squeeze my fingers. Milk them like you'll milk my cock one day. Fuck, yes, that's it, good girl, such a good—"
She breaks with a keen, her body going rigid, her back bowing against his chest, her cunt clamping down on his fingers so hard he sees stars. She is beautiful in orgasm, even unconscious—mouth open, brows furrowed in pleasure. He feels her pulse around him, drawing out her peak, and he keeps fucking her through it, gentling his touch but not stopping, dragging out every aftershock until she goes limp against him, boneless and satiated, her breathing deep once more.
"Pretty," he breathes, his voice wrecked. "So fucking pretty. My good girl, my perfect girl."
But he doesn't stop—he can't.
The sight of her coming undone, the feel of her wetness coating his fingers, the pressure of her ass against his throbbing cock—it is too much. He continues to thrust his fingers, shallow and slow, milking her sensitivity, even as his other hand releases her breast and slides down to grip her hip, holding her steady as he grinds upward, seeking his own release.
"Look what you do to me," he pants against her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her skin, salty and sweet. "Look how hard you make me. Just from touching you. Just from feeling you come. Fuck, I'm going to—I'm going to—"
He buries his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo—something floral, something innocent—and lets go. His hips jerk upward, once, twice, three times, and then he is spilling into his pants with a choked groan that he barely manages to muffle, his cock pulsing in waves of pleasure that make his vision go white at the edges. It is messy and shameful, feeling the wet heat spreading in his underwear, but he doesn't care.
When it is over, when he can breathe again, when his heart slows from its frantic hammering, he carefully withdraws his fingers from her.
They are coated in her arousal, glistening in the afternoon light, and without thinking—without the ability to stop himself—he brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean, groaning at the taste of her, sweet and musky and perfect.
He needs more, and he needs to taste her straight from the source.
Caleb shifts carefully, manoeuvring her limp body until she is lying on her back on the couch, her head turned to the side, her legs parted slightly. He kneels between her thighs, his hands trembling as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of her sleep shorts and her underwear—both soaked through, both ruined—and slides them down her legs, lifting her feet one by one to free the fabric completely.
She is exposed to him now, her sex glistening and swollen from her orgasm, pink and perfect and his. He stares for a long moment, memorizing the sight, filing it away in the vault of his obsession where he keeps every stolen moment, every glimpse of skin.
"Gege needs to taste," he whispers, more to himself than to her. "Just once. Just this once."
He leans forward, his hands spreading her thighs wider, and presses his mouth to her. She tastes like heaven, like sin, like everything he has ever wanted and cannot have. He laps at her slowly, licking up her folds, circling her clit with his tongue, cleaning away the evidence of her pleasure and his own transgression. She is sensitive, twitching beneath his mouth, making small sounds that drive him wild, but she does not wake. She is too far gone, too deep in sleep, too trusting that she is safe in her own home.
If only she knew; if only she knew that her brother is currently between her legs, feasting on her like a starving man, his cock already stirring again in his wet pants, desperate for more.
Caleb kisses her there—her glossy cunt, her perfect sex—and whispers against her folds, "Goodnight, my love. Sweet dreams of gege."
He lingers for one more moment, pressing a final kiss to her clit, feeling her shudder, before he forces himself to pull back. He cannot leave her like this, exposed and messy. He retrieves a warm washcloth from the bathroom, returns to clean her gently, thoroughly, wiping away every trace of his touch, his mouth, her own arousal.
She sighs in her sleep, peaceful, sated.
From his room, he retrieves a fresh pair of her panties—not the sexy kind, but the soft cotton ones she wears to bed, the ones he has imagined peeling off her a thousand times—and a clean pair of sleep shorts. He dresses her carefully, lifting her hips, sliding the fabric up her legs, tucking her back into her clothes as if nothing has happened, as if he hasn't just defiled her in the most intimate ways while she slept.
He stands back to survey his work. She looks innocent again, untouched, her breathing steady, her face relaxed. No one would know. No one but him.
And the trophies he has taken.
Caleb picks up her discarded underwear and sleep shorts from where he dropped them on the floor. The cotton is drenched, heavy with her scent, with her arousal, with the evidence of what he has done to her. He brings them to his face, inhaling deeply, his cock twitching one last time, and then he folds them carefully and slips them into the pocket of his flight jacket.
They are his now, his treasure. The first of many, he knows.
He lifts her again, cradling her against his chest, and carries her to her bedroom, laying her down on her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. He stands over her for a long moment, watching her sleep, his hand in his pocket, fingers brushing the damp fabric he has stolen.
"Soon," he promises softly. "Soon you'll wake up. And you'll know. And you'll want it too."
He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead, then her lips—chaste, but possessive.
"I love you," he whispers. "My little sister. My girl. Mine."
SAINT'S NOTES ! originally uploaded in the server back in the 31st of may, before the entire shitshow and my decision to move past canon content, so don't quote me on this lol—past me was idealistic about this game while present me simply does not give anymore fucks about it.
Horny thoughts EXTRA: Caleb and Valko using a dual entry fleshlight as punishment.
Link for a visual (very NSFW) 🔞MDNI🔞
This is a gift and a thank you for the amazing ideas (including this one) to @stardustsirens 💜💜💚💚.
Check the rest of the Horny thoughts list here
For two men who had both agreed—out loud, with words, like adults—to share a relationship with you, Caleb and Valko were doing a spectacular job of acting like they'd never heard the word compromise in their lives.
It had started over breakfast.
Specifically, it had started over the fact that Caleb had taken the last of your coffee without asking and Valko had taken that personally.
"That's not what this is about and you know it," Caleb said, his voice gone quiet, that meant he was past the point of raising it. He stood in the living room with his arms crossed "You've been doing this for months. Every time I'm here you find something. The coffee, the blanket, the remote—"
"She was cold," Valko said. "I gave her the blanket because she was cold. You were sitting right next to her and you didn't notice."
"I noticed."
"You were watching the stupid game."
"I can watch the game and notice she's cold at the same time."
"Clearly not, since I'm the one who got up."
Caleb's eye twitched. Just slightly. "You got up from the other side of the room to bring her a blanket that was sitting six inches from my hand so you could—"
"So I could what, Caleb? Make sure my girlfriend wasn't cold? That's the crime we're prosecuting today?"
"She's my girlfriend too."
"Then act like it."
Caleb uncrossed his arms and stepped forward, and Valko, because Valko had never backed up from anything in his life and wasn't about to start now, also stepped forward to meet him. They ended up in the middle of the living room with their chests almost touching and matching expressions of immovable stubbornness.
"You want to talk about acting like it," Caleb said, very quietly. "Let's talk about last Tuesday."
"I'm gonna need you to be specific."
"You called her ten times, Valko."
"I was checking on her."
"Ten times. In an hour. I was with her. She didn't need to be checked on, she was fine, you just wanted to make sure I knew you were calling"
"This is actually insane," Valko threw one hand up. "You're telling me I'm not allowed to call my girlfriend?"
"Not when I'm with her"
"I'm trying," Valko said, clipped and precise, "to take care of her. Which I realize is a foreign concept to a man whose primary contribution to this relationship is showing up on weekends and looking pretty—"
"I look..." Caleb stopped. A vein in his temple was doing something concerning. "That is not the point—"
"Oh my god, that is enough."
They turned at exactly the same time, the argument dying mid breath, and found you standing in the bedroom doorway. You had your arms crossed, a silk blindfold hanging from each hand, and the expression on your face was one you reserved for occasions when you had reached the outer limit of what you were willing to tolerate.
You looked at Caleb. Then at Valko. Then at the ridiculous amount of physical space they had managed to eliminate between two fully grown men who had, three days ago, been in your bed at the same time without anyone losing a limb.
"I have watched you two argue all day" you said. "You have both been in this relationship for months. You have both—" you paused, choosing words, "demonstrated, repeatedly, that you are capable of being in the same room as each other."
Neither of them said anything. Caleb had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. Valko looked like he wanted to say something and was physically restraining himself.
You held up the blindfolds.
"I'm done mediating. You want to act like you don't know how to share?" Your eyes moved between them, steady and completely unmoved by the combined effect of the two of them standing there looking like scolded golden retrievers. "Then I'll make it simple for everyone."
-------------------------------------------------
The bedroom was very quiet by the time you got them both in there.
They ran out of things to argue about. It was hard to continue a territorial dispute when they couldn't see where they were in the room. They stood where you'd put them, stripped bare, blindfolded, shoulders still carrying the tension from the living room but with nowhere to direct it anymore. Both of them had their hands at their sides, not touching anything, assuming they were far away from each other.
They were not.
They were close enough that if either one of them exhaled too hard they'd feel it. You'd done that on purpose.
You sank to your knees between them and looked up at their faces —both of them tight jawed, heads slightly tilted, trying to orient themselves by sound alone— and took a moment to appreciate the fact that two of the most difficult men you'd ever met were currently standing blindfolded and completely at your mercy because of a disagreement about coffee.
You poured the lube and wrapped your hand around Caleb's cock first.
His head went back immediately, a rough groan pulling out of him, hands gripping his own hips to stop himself from reaching for you. "God, your hand—can do it a bit faster?"
"Don't rush her," Valko's voice came out tighter than he intended. He was trying to figure out from the sound of Caleb's voice exactly how far away he was standing.
You moved your hand to Valko and his whole body shuddered, a sharp exhale escaping through his nose. "Fuck, I've been waiting all day."
"You're both getting it," you said, keeping your voice smooth and even.
You picked up the sleeve from the floor beside you.
Dual entry, no center barrier, ribbed on both ends. They knew you loved toys and they loved using them on you. Neither of them had any reason to suspect what this one was about to do.
You lined it up, shifted your weight onto your heels, and pushed it down over both of them at the same time.
The sound they made was almost identical, two sharp, breathless gasps in perfect sync, the ribbed interior gripping them both tightly. For a second they both just stood there processing the sensation.
Then you pushed them closer, the rest of the way in.
The tips of their cocks met somewhere in the barrierless middle.
"What—" Caleb's whole body recoiled, knees buckling, one hand shooting out sideways for something to grab onto and finding nothing. "What the—what is that—"
Valko made a sound that was not a word in any language. He'd gone completely rigid, every muscle locked up, his chin dropped to his chest.
"Is that—" Caleb's voice came out strange and strained, working through the information his body was sending him with visible effort. "Is that another—is someone else—are you—" He stopped. "What the fuck?"
"That's 'ko," you said pleasantly.
"What the hell—" Valko's hips snapped back on reflex, a choked sound tearing out of him that he was going to pretend hadn't happened. "Sweetheart, what did you just—"
"Relax," you said, both hands clamping down over the center of the sleeve, fingers squeezing the material to keep them where they were. "You didn't want to share so now you're sharing this."
Caleb's breathing had gone completely to pieces. His chest was heaving, jaw working around words that weren't coming out in the right order. "You actually—" A sharp breath. "You seriously—"
You gave the sleeve one slow twisting squeeze and he lost the sentence entirely.
"Look at you both," you teased, from your knees again, looking up at two flushed faces with tremendous satisfaction. "So territorial. So impossible. And completely hard inside the same toy."
"I am hard for you," Valko snapped, the words coming out slightly less convincing than usual given the circumstances. A dark flush had crawled all the way up his neck and into his ears. He tried to step back, thighs shaking. "Take it off. Right now. I am not doing this, I don't—"
"You're not going anywhere."
You delivered the first stroke before he finished the sentence and the sound that came out of both of them at the same time was something you were going to think about for a very long time.
The friction was immediate and overwhelming—the ribbed interior stimulating the entire length of their cocks while they were pressed tip to tip. Neither of them pulled away.
What happened instead was considerably more predictable given who they were.
Valko's jaw set. You felt him shift his weight, recalibrate, and then drive his hips forward hard—a full thrust into the sleeve that was transparently designed to shove Caleb back through force of will. "Move," he said, through his teeth.
"No," Caleb answered and met him head on.😝
The impact of them hitting tip to tip inside the slick toy punched a moan out of both of them, loud enough that you were briefly grateful for the thickness of the bedroom walls.
You started pumping the sleeve to match their rhythm and leaned in. "There you go," you kept your voice low, right in the space between them. "All that energy you've been wasting arguing about coffee." Another stroke, firm and deliberate. "Look how much better this is."
"Don't act smug about this."
"I'm not acting smug," you said, completely smugly, picking up the pace. "I'm just saying. You've both been impossible for three months and it took me five minutes to solve it."
"This isn't solved—" Caleb's voice broke on the last word as you twisted your wrist on the next steoke. He swore, hips stuttering forward. "This is—this is not what I'd call solved—"
"Less talking," you said."More cooperating."
"I am not cooperating with him," Valko thrusted forward again.
Caleb met him again without hesitation.
"Come on, 'ko," you watched his face carefully. "He's pushing you back. Are you really going to let him?"
"Pips—"
"Absolutely not," Valko said through his teeth and reached out blindly until his hands found Caleb's shoulders and dug in. He used the grip to anchor himself, rolling his hips forward in slow circles that ground them together until his voice betrayed him, dropping from furious to undone in the space of a single breath. "I'll—" a shaking exhale, "I'll outlast him. Just like I've done it for months."
"You are shaking," Caleb pointed out, panting, sweat running down his temples and soaking into the edge of his blindfold. His hand had found its way into Valko's hair, gripping tight, the only thing keeping him upright as your hands worked faster. "You're already—you're twitching, I can feel it—you're so close you can't even—"
"Don't," Valko warned.
"You're falling apart and I've barely—haah—" Caleb's smugness dissolved as you squeezed the center of the sleeve. "God—"
"Shut up," Valko's command would have landed better if it hadn't come out an octave higher than his normal voice, cracked clean down the middle by another roll of his hips.
You slid your free hand up the flat of Caleb's stomach, felt every muscle pulled tight, holding back. "Tell me how it feels," you ordered.
"It's—" Caleb's was losing rhythm, the competitive edge bleeding into something desperate. "It's too much. The heat—I can feel him—Pips, please, I'm going to—"
You stopped the stroke immediately, keeping them locked against each other with nowhere to go.
Caleb made a sound that was mostly just suffering.
"Not yet," you said, turning your head slightly. " 'ko. Tell him."
"Tell him what?" Valko gritted out.
"How close you are."
A long silence broken only by both of them breathing like they'd been running.
"Damn it," Valko said finally, the grip on Caleb's shoulders turning white knuckled. "He's—" another shaking breath, "he's too much. Too hot. Everything he does just—" He cut himself off, jaw clenching. "Stop moving, Caleb. I'm serious. Stop—"
"I can't," Caleb moaned, his whole body moved forward, one final thrust that buried him as far into the sleeve as he could go.
Valko's forehead dropped forward, finding Caleb's shoulder, Caleb's hand was still in his hair. Their chests were heaving in the same broken rhythm, breath mingling in the small space.
"There," you said quietly. "Was that so hard?
Slowly, like he was doing it without deciding to, his body moving before his brain caught up, Valko's forehead dragged up from Caleb's shoulder, sliding along the curve of his neck, up his jaw, until it came to rest against Caleb's forehead.
Caleb went completely still. You didn't move. Didn't speak. Just watched.
Valko's hands, still gripping Caleb's shoulders, slowly loosened. Spread flat. Like he was steadying himself against something he hadn't been prepared for. His breath came out ragged and uneven against Caleb's lips.
Caleb's fingers in his hair tightened again and he tilted his head up slightly.
Valko tilted his down.
Their mouths met somewhere in the middle and neither of them made it a question.
It wasn't soft. It was two people who'd been circling each other for months finally landing, all that accumulated tension finding somewhere to go at once—Caleb's hand pulling Valko in by the hair, Valko's hands sliding from Caleb's shoulders to the back of his neck, both of them breathing hard through their noses because neither one was willing to break it long enough to properly inhale.
You started moving the sleeve again. Slow at first. Then faster.
Valko broke the kiss on a sharp desperate sound that Caleb swallowed immediately, pulling him back in, and then both of them stopped pretending there was anything controlled left about any of this. Their hips moved together instead of against each other for the first time, same rhythm, same direction, working into the sleeve in sync while the sounds they were making dissolved from words into something much more honest.
"Together," you said quietly, from below "Both of you."
They came at exactly the same moment, Valko first by a heartbeat, Caleb right behind him, both of them shaking, gripping each other and breathing into each other's mouths while it rolled through them in long waves. Valko made a sound low in his chest that you'd never heard from him before. Caleb's knees buckled and Valko caught him without thinking, arms wrapping around him on reflex, and they stood there holding each other up.
You looked up at both of them, blindfolds askew, foreheads together.
"So," you laughed "Same time next week?"
Caleb laughed first. Just one short exhausted sound, but it was real.
Valko pressed his lips to Caleb's temple, which surprised everyone in the room including him, and said nothing.
You stood up, brushed off your knees, and went to make yourself a cup of coffee. Nobody had taken the last of it this time.
