Capri

she/her 18+ smut writer multi fandom writer reblogs appreciated!!! <33

[nottellingofname]

For My Caleb ⋆⭒˚｡⋆✈︎

Operation: Make mei mei feel good

Caleb’s arm is heavy across your waist, his breath warm against the nape of your neck.

For a moment, you simply exist in this cocoon of warmth, the events of last night playing behind your closed eyelids like a delicious secret.

Your body feels different somehow. Heavier, more present, as if last night’s pleasure has rewired your nervous system to make you hypersensitive to every sensation.

Caleb’s nightmares had frightened you at first, his desperate plea not to leave him tearing at your heart. But what followed... the memory alone sends a flush of heat across your skin.

The way he looked at you, touched you, praised you—called you his good girl.

A guilty thought sneaks through your contentment. Part of you almost wishes he’d have nightmares more often if they lead to such blissful endings.

And it has. Caleb has had nothing but nightmares the past few days. And you're always there to help him out.

The digital clock on the nightstand glows 8:17 AM.

You should get up, prepare breakfast—something special to welcome Caleb home properly. With careful movements, you attempt to lift his arm from your waist and slide out from under it.

Pain lances through you, sharp and unexpected. Not intense enough to make you cry out, but surprising in its thoroughness.

Your thighs feel as though you’ve run a marathon, muscles protesting even this small movement. There’s a deeper ache too, a pulsating sensation low in your abdomen that feels both foreign and intimate. You freeze, a small gasp escaping your lips.

“Pips? What’s wrong?” Caleb’s voice is rough with sleep, but instantly alert to your distress.

“Nothing,” you lie automatically, but your face betrays you, wincing as you try to shift again.

The mattress dips as Caleb sits up, sleep vanishing from his expression as his eyes narrow with concern. His hand, warm and steady, comes to rest on your hip.

“Don‘t lie to me. Where does it hurt?”

The direct question makes heat rise to your cheeks.

How do you explain this? That the friction of riding him through layers of clothing has left your inner thighs chafed and your core aching?

That you’ve never experienced this particular kind of soreness before because you’ve never dry humped anyone to orgasm before last night?

“I’m just a little... sore,” you manage, avoiding his gaze.

“Sore?” His voice drops lower, and something shifts in his expression—concern mingling with a flicker of masculine pride that makes your stomach flip. “Where exactly?”

You gesture vaguely to your lower half, embarrassment making your movements jerky. “My thighs. And... other places.”

Understanding dawns in his purple eyes, followed immediately by a flash of guilt. His thumb traces small circles against your hip bone, the touch gentle but enough to send shivers through you despite the discomfort.

“From last night,” he says, not a question but a realization. His gaze travels down your body as if he can see through the blankets to the evidence of what he’s done to you.

You nod, unable to form words under the intensity of his stare. The ache between your legs pulses in time with your heartbeat, a reminder of how he made you feel, how he taught your body something new.

Caleb’s expression shifts again, guilt fading into something more possessive. His hand slides from your hip to your thigh, squeezing just firmly enough to make you gasp at the sensation of pain and pleasure.

“Your first time doing anything like that,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. “Of course you’d be sore. I should have been more careful with you.”

“It’s okay,” you hurry to reassure him, not wanting him to regret what happened. “It was worth it. To help you feel better.”

His eyes darken at your words, pupils dilating slightly. “Always so eager to make me happy,” he says, voice tinged with something that sounds almost like awe. “My sweet Pips.”

You try to sit up again, determined not to let a little discomfort keep you from your daily routine, but the movement sends another wave of pain through your core. This time, you can’t suppress the wince that contorts your features.

Caleb’s reaction is immediate. He shifts into a protective posture, one arm sliding beneath your shoulders to support you while the other hovers over your body, uncertain where to touch without causing more pain.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Caleb’s voice carries that rare edge that reminds you he commands soldiers for a living.

His hand presses firmly on your shoulder, keeping you pinned to the mattress as you try once more to rise. “Did you not hear me say stay still?”

The question is rhetorical, his eyes narrowed with a mixture of concern and frustration. This isn’t the gentle ge ge who indulges your every whim—this is Colonel Xia, accustomed to immediate obedience.

“I can‘t just lie here all day,” you protest, though your body betrays you with another wince as you shift beneath his restraining hand. “I have things to do.”

Caleb’s expression softens fractionally, but his grip remains firm. “What things could possibly be more important than letting me take care of you?”

There’s a hint of hurt beneath his authoritative tone, as if your resistance wounds him. “What am I even here for if not to do everything for you?”

The question hangs between you, weighted with implications you’re not quite ready to examine. Caleb has always been protective, attentive to your needs, but this feels different.

“But—“

“No buts,” he interrupts, his thumb tracing small circles on your collarbone where his hand still pins you. “You think I don’t notice how you’re wincing with every movement? How you can barely twist without pain?” His eyes darken. “I did that to you, Y/N. I pushed you too far, too fast.”

Something flickers across his expression—guilt, certainly, but underneath it lurks a primal satisfaction that sends a shiver down your spine. He looks... proud of having marked you, even as he regrets your discomfort.

“It wasn’t just you,” you counter softly. “I wanted it too.”

His eyes soften momentarily before a determined look crosses his features. “All the more reason for me to fix it. To show you that pleasure doesn’t have to come with this much aftermath.”

The hand not holding you down drifts to your hip, fingers splaying possessively across the curve. “I’m going to make it better.”

“Caleb,” you try again, squirming slightly beneath his touch. “I really need to use the bathroom first.”

He pauses, considering this practical concern, but then shakes his head. “Not yet. Your muscles are all tight and knotted. If you try to walk now, you’ll just make it worse.” His voice drops lower, more intimate. “Let me massage you first, loosen everything up. Then you can go.”

The authority in his voice brooks no argument, and despite your bladder’s insistence, you find yourself nodding in acquiescence.

Something about the way Caleb takes control makes resistance feel not just futile but somehow wrong, as if denying him the chance to care for you would be denying his very nature.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, the praise sending a flush of warmth through you despite your discomfort.

He releases you, confident now that you’ll obey, and moves to the nightstand. From the bottom drawer, he retrieves a small bottle—baby oil, the label gleaming in the morning light filtering through the curtains.

The sight of it makes your stomach flip with anticipation and a touch of nervousness.

“Roll onto your stomach for me,” he instructs, his voice gentler now but no less commanding.

You hesitate, bladder protesting. “Caleb, I really should—“

“Trust me,” he cuts you off, his eyes intense. “This won’t take long, and then you’ll be able to walk without wincing. Don’t you trust me to know what’s best for you, Pips?”

Put that way, how can you argue?

Caleb has always looked out for you, always known what you needed, sometimes before you knew yourself.

With a small sigh of surrender, you carefully shift onto your stomach, biting your lip against the twinge of discomfort the movement causes.

“There we go.” The approval in his voice warms you from within. The mattress dips as he positions himself beside you, and then his hands are on your shoulders, strong fingers finding knots of tension you didn‘t even realize were there. “Just relax for me. Let go.”

You try to obey, melting into the mattress as his thumbs work small circles into your shoulder blades.

It feels good—so good that for a moment you almost forget the more urgent ache between your legs and your full bladder.

“You’re carrying so much tension,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble above you. “Not just from last night. Have you been stressing while I was away?”

The question surprises you. “Maybe a little,” you admit. “I always worry when you’re gone.”

His hands pause momentarily, then resume their gentle kneading with increased purpose. “You never need to worry about me, Pips. I always come back to you.” There’s a possessive edge to his words that makes your heart beat faster. “Always.”

The baby oil appears in your peripheral vision as he uncaps it. The subtle scent fills the air—clean, slightly sweet.

“This will help with the friction,” he explains, and though the words are innocent enough, something in his tone suggests double meaning. “The skin on your inner thighs is delicate. I should have remembered that last night.”

The guilt is back in his voice, but it doesn’t match the hungry look in his eyes as they track down your body.

You’re suddenly hyperaware that you’re still wearing what you slept in—an oversized t-shirt and the shorts that are now slightly stained from last night’s activities.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, not sure why you’re whispering. “I didn’t exactly know what to expect either.”

His smile is gentle but there‘s an edge to it—the smile of a man who knows exactly what to expect and is anticipating every moment.

“That’s why you have me,” he says, pouring a small amount of oil into his palm and rubbing his hands together to warm it. “To teach you. To take care of you.”

The oil glistens on his fingers, catching the morning light. You'd think being babied would make you feel like a kid, but nope—there's nothing innocent about how Caleb's looking at you right now, his eyes getting all hungry while he checks you out, or how he's taking his sweet time rubbing that oil between his hands like he's thinking about where they're gonna end up.

“I‘m going to start with your back,” he says, his voice dropping to that register that makes your stomach flutter. “Then work my way down. By the time I’m done, you’ll be able to walk without pain.”

He pauses, and something shifts in his expression—a flash of that hunger you glimpsed last night. “And maybe you’ll feel something even better than relief.”

His hands descend on your back, warm and slick with oil, and all thoughts of protesting further dissolve under his skilled touch.

Your body surrenders to his ministrations, even as a small voice in the back of your mind whispers that this massage might be about more than just easing your physical discomfort.

But as Caleb’s strong hands work their magic, dissolving knots of tension and sending waves of relief through your sore muscles, you find you don‘t much care what his true intentions might be.

You’re putty in his hands, and some newly awakened part of you wouldn‘t have it any other way.

Caleb’s hands work their way down your back with practiced efficiency, finding knots you didn’t know existed and dissolving them with firm, circular pressure.

The baby oil makes his touch glide seamlessly across your skin, leaving warmth in its wake. When he reaches the small of your back, his movements slow, becoming more deliberate.

“I need to get to your thighs now,” he says, voice lower than before. “That’s where most of the soreness is, right?” His fingers hover at the waistband of your shorts. “I’ll need to take these off to do this properly.”

Your breath catches in your throat. There’s nothing inherently inappropriate about his request—he’s giving you a massage, after all—but something about the intensity in his voice makes this feel like a threshold being crossed.

Still, your thighs do ache terribly, the muscles stiff and tender from last night’s activities.

“I—okay,” you agree, your voice small and uncertain.

Caleb’s fingers curl around the elastic waistband, but he pauses. “Are you sure, Pips?”

The question feels loaded, as if he’s asking for permission for more than just removing a piece of clothing.

You nod against the pillow. “I trust you.”

Three simple words, but they transform his expression. Something flashes in his purple eyes—triumph mixed with an emotion so raw it makes your heart stutter.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, the praise warming you from within.

With a gentleness that belies the tension coiled in his shoulders, Caleb begins to peel the shorts down your hips.

His movements are deliberately slow, almost reverential, as if he’s unwrapping a precious gift. The fabric catches slightly where it sticks to your skin from residual dampness, a reminder of last night’s pleasure that sends heat rushing to your cheeks.

As he works the shorts past your hips and down your thighs, his breath audibly hitches. You turn your head slightly, catching his expression from the corner of your eye.

He’s staring at your exposed lower half, now clad only in the apple-patterned cotton panties you threw on last night after he cleaned you up.

“These are cute,” he says, but the strained quality of his voice contradicts the casual observation. His fingertips trace the elastic edge where it cuts across your buttock, a touch so light it makes you shiver. “Little apples for my Pips.”

He says "my" and his voice drops half an octave, the word stretching out like taffy. Your chest tightens.

You should back away, but instead you lean forward, your cheeks warming as if you've just taken a sip of something stronger than you're used to.

You watch as he visibly swallows, Adam‘s apple bobbing in his throat as he carefully removes your shorts completely, setting them aside with more care than the simple garment warrants.

“Roll over for me,” he instructs, his voice rougher than before. “I need to get to the front of your thighs too.”

You comply, wincing slightly as the movement reminds you of your soreness.

Now on your back, you feel suddenly vulnerable—exposed in just your t-shirt and panties under Caleb’s hungry gaze. He’s looking at you like a man starved, though he’s trying to mask it behind clinical concern.

“Tell me where it hurts most,” he says, reaching for the baby oil again.

“The inner thighs,” you admit, heat rising to your face. “From the... friction.”

Something darkens in his eyes at your words—a flash of male pride quickly suppressed.

“I’ll fix it,” he promises, and it sounds like both an apology and a vow.

The baby oil makes a soft splashing sound as he pours a generous amount into his palm, warming it between his hands before reaching for your leg.

The first touch of his slick fingers against your tender skin draws a gasp from your lips—partly from the coolness of the oil, partly from the intimate nature of the contact.

“Too much?” he asks immediately, his hands pausing.

You shake your head. “Just sensitive.”

His smile is gentle but there’s something predatory lurking behind it. “I‘ll be careful.”

Caleb begins with your right thigh, strong hands encircling the muscle completely. His thumbs work small circles into the meat of your quadriceps, gradually increasing pressure as he gauges your reaction.

The oil makes his movements smooth, frictionless, his fingers gliding over your skin with practiced ease.

“How’s this?” he asks, though his eyes are fixed not on your face but on the way your flesh yields beneath his touch, spilling between his fingers like soft clay.

“Good,” you breathe, because it is—the initial discomfort giving way to relief as he works out the stiffness in your overused muscles.

Caleb seems transfixed by the sight of his own hands on your skin. His breathing has changed, growing deeper, more measured, as if he’s exerting great control. His thumbs dig into a particularly tender spot, making you wince.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, immediately gentling his touch. “So soft here. I forget how delicate you are sometimes.”

The comment might seem condescending from anyone else, but from Caleb, it feels like worship.

His hands continue their work, kneading and stroking, gradually moving higher up your thigh. Each time his fingers near the edge of your panties, your breath catches, but he always redirects, focusing on the sore muscles with seemingly professional detachment.

Only the darkness of his eyes gives him away—pupils dilated so wide they nearly swallow the purple iris entirely.

When he seems satisfied with the state of your right thigh, he shifts his attention to your left, repeating the process with the same thorough attention.

The second thigh goes faster, your muscles already loosened from his earlier ministrations. As he finishes, his hands slow, lingering on your skin as if reluctant to break contact.

Then, to your surprise, he bends down and presses his lips to the inside of your knee in a feather-light kiss.

“What—what was that for?” you stammer, caught off guard by the tender gesture.

“Recovery kisses,” he says, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. “To help heal the sore spots.”

Before you can respond, he’s moved slightly higher, pressing another kiss to your inner thigh. His lips are warm against your oil-slick skin, the contact brief but sending sparks through your nervous system nonetheless.

He repeats this pattern—a firm massage followed by a gentle kiss—working his way up your thigh in a way that makes your heart race.

“Caleb,” you breathe, uncertain whether you’re protesting or encouraging.

He pauses, looking up at you from his position between your legs. The sight is so intimate it steals your breath—Caleb’s dark head bent over your body, his hands splayed possessively across your thighs, his eyes burning with barely contained hunger.

“Too much?” he asks again, but there’s a challenge in his tone now, as if daring you to stop him.

You want to say yes. This has clearly moved beyond a therapeutic massage into something else entirely.

But the concern in his expression seems genuine, and the kisses do bring a strange comfort to your tender muscles. More than that, you don’t want to disappoint him—don’t want to break the spell of this intimate moment.

“No,” you whisper. “It’s... nice.”

Relief washes over his features, followed by that flash of triumph again. “Good,” he says, his voice dropping to a register that vibrates through you. “Because I’m not done taking care of you yet.”

He returns to his ministrations, switching back to your right leg and repeating the process—firm massage followed by soft kisses.

As he works, you notice how his gaze keeps returning to the apex of your thighs, to the cotton fabric with its cheerful apple pattern that now feels absurdly childish in this charged atmosphere.

“Better?” he asks as he finishes with your left thigh, his voice strained with effort.

You nod, because it is—the soreness has receded, replaced by a pleasant warmth and lingering sensitivity from his touch. “Much better. Thank you.”

His answering smile is tight, restrained. “Good,” he says, but he makes no move to stop, his hands still resting on your thighs, thumbs tracing small circles against your skin. “But I think there might be other places that need attention too.”

The question hangs in the air between you, heavy with implication.

You know you should draw a line here—should thank him for the massage and retreat to the bathroom as you’d originally intended.

But the heat in his gaze and the memory of last night’s pleasure makes you hesitate, caught between innocence and newfound desire.

And in that moment of hesitation, Caleb makes the decision for you, his hands sliding higher up your thighs with newfound purpose.

Without warning, Caleb’s hands slide to your knees and press outward, spreading your legs wider. The movement is confident, authoritative—not a request but a repositioning.

“Need better access,” he murmurs, though his eyes tell a different story as they fixate on the juncture of your thighs.

You’re suddenly aware of how exposed you are, legs splayed open with Caleb kneeling between them, his large hands looking almost threatening against your soft skin.

“Is this really necessary?” you ask, voice small and uncertain despite the warmth building low in your belly.

“Absolutely,” Caleb replies, his tone brooking no argument. “The sorest muscles are right here, where the friction was most intense.”

His thumbs press into your inner thighs, simultaneously, mere inches from the elastic edges of your apple-patterned panties. “Trust me, I know exactly where you need attention.”

The pressure of his thumbs sends shivers up your spine. Unlike before, when he worked on one leg at a time, now his hands mirror each other, creating symmetrical patterns of pleasure-pain as he kneads the tender flesh of both inner thighs.

Each press of his fingers brings his knuckles dangerously close to the center of you, causing your breath to hitch in anticipation.

“Relax,” he instructs, though the rough edge to his voice betrays his own tension. “I can‘t help if you’re all tight like this.”

You try to obey, forcing your muscles to unclench, letting your legs fall open more naturally. Caleb rewards you with a smile that’s equal parts approval and hunger.

“Good girl,” he praises, the words sending a now-familiar warmth through you. “Always so good for me.”

His hands work higher, thumbs pressing small circles into the crease where thigh meets groin, fingers splayed across the softness of your outer thighs.

The massage is undeniably skilled—each press releases tension you didn’t know you were holding—but there’s nothing clinical about the way his eyes keep dropping to the cotton barrier between his hands.

A tiny gasp escapes you when his thumb brushes—accidentally?—against the edge of your panties. Caleb‘s eyes dart to your face, gauging your reaction.

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “Sensitive spot.”

Before you can respond, his gaze drops again, narrowing slightly. “Your panties are damp,” he observes, voice casual but eyes intense. “Not from the oil, huh?”

Heat floods your face. You hadn’t realized, but now that he mentions it, you can feel it—the telltale warmth and wetness gathering between your legs in response to his touch.

“I bet you’re sore here too, aren’t you?” His finger traces the seam where elastic meets skin, not quite touching you intimately but close enough to make your heart race. “The center always takes the most friction.”

“I—maybe a little,” you admit, not meeting his eyes. It’s true—there’s a tender, swollen feeling in your most private place, a lingering reminder of last night’s pleasure.

“I thought so,” Caleb nods, satisfaction darkening his eyes. “This is all part of the healing process, Y/N. We need to address all the sore spots.”

His thumb brushes over the front of your panties, a feather-light touch that still makes you jerk in response. “I bet your clit is especially sensitive, isn’t it? First orgasm and all.”

His voice drops an octave when he says it, so matter-of-fact and medical, and you find yourself shifting, cheeks burning, stomach fluttering with a sensation you're not ready to name.

“Caleb, I don’t think—“

“Shh,” he soothes, reaching for the baby oil again. “Let me take care of you. That’s what I’m here for, remember?”

Before you can protest further, he’s tilting the bottle, drizzling a thin stream of oil directly onto the front of your panties.

The cool liquid seeps instantly through the thin cotton, making you gasp at the sensation. More oil follows, saturating the thin material until it becomes translucent, adhering like a second skin to every intimate fold and swollen ridge of your cunt.

“There,” Caleb breathes, eyes fixed on what he’s revealed. “That’s better.”

You look down, mortified to see that the once-opaque fabric has turned nearly transparent, the oil rendering it a sheer window to your most private parts. The cheerful apple pattern now seems obscene, stretched across your visible flesh.

“Caleb!” you exclaim, hands moving instinctively to cover yourself.

He catches your wrists with surprising speed, pinning them gently but firmly to your sides. “Don’t,” he says, voice rough with need. “Let me see what I‘m working with. How can I help if I can’t see where it hurts?”

Put that way, it almost makes sense, though a voice in the back of your mind whispers that this has gone far beyond therapeutic massage.

Still, you let your hands fall back to the mattress, surrendering to his care once more.

“Good,” he praises, releasing your wrists to return his attention to your center. “Now, let’s take care of this soreness.”

His thumbs press against your outer labia through the soaked fabric, applying gentle but firm pressure that draws a surprised moan from your lips.

The oil makes his touch slippery, frictionless as he begins massaging your swollen pussy lips, his thumbs spreading your wet folds apart before pressing back together in a lewd rhythm that makes obscene squelching sounds with each movement.

“Does that help?” he asks, though his eyes are fixed not on your face but on the movement of his own hands against you. “Tell me how it feels.”

“It—it feels—“ Words fail you as his thumb finds your clit through the fabric, circling the sensitive nub with practiced ease. “Oh!”

“Sensitive,” he observes, not easing his touch but adjusting the pressure slightly. “But that’s to be expected after last night. Your first time experiencing that kind of pleasure.”

There’s that pride again in his voice—the satisfaction of knowing he was your first, that he introduced you to these sensations.

His thumbs continue their work, massaging your folds with firm, circular motions that send waves of confused pleasure through you.

It does ease the soreness, replacing it with a building heat that makes your hips twitch involuntarily.

Through the translucent fabric, Caleb watches, entranced, as your body responds to his ministrations.

Your labia is visibly swelling, darkening with blood. Your clitoris peeks from beneath its hood, a tiny pink bud that twitches when his thumb passes over it.

Most telling of all is the slickness gathering at your entrance, mixing with the oil to create a wet patch that has nothing to do with his massage.

“You’re so pretty here,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “So perfect.” His breathing has grown labored, his pupils so dilated. “Look how your body responds to me. Opening like a flower.”

The poetic words sound strange in his usually practical mouth, evidence of how affected he is by the sight of you.

“Is this—is this still part of the massage?” you ask, voice breathy and uncertain.

Caleb’s eyes flick up to yours, dark with hunger. “Of course,” he assures you, though his voice has dropped an octave. “The best way to heal soreness is to replace it with pleasure. To remind the body that touch can feel good.”

His thumb presses more firmly against your clit, circling with deliberate intent now, and your back arches in response.

The thin, oil-soaked fabric creates a strange barrier—not enough to block the sensation but adding a different texture to his touch.

Through the translucent cotton, he can see everything—the way your opening clenches around nothing, the swelling of your sensitive tissues, the gathering wetness that has nothing to do with the baby oil and everything to do with how he’s making you feel.

“I can see how much this is helping you,” he says, voice strained with restraint. “How your body is relaxing for me.”

It’s not relaxation you feel but a mounting tension, a coiling heat building deep in your core that’s becoming familiar after last night.

“Caleb,” you whimper as his fingers find a particularly sensitive spot. “I don’t—I think—“

“Shh,” he soothes, not slowing his ministrations. “Just let it happen. Let gege take care of you.”

And despite the confusion, despite the vague sense that this should feel wrong, you surrender to his touch once more, hips rising to meet his hands as pleasure builds toward something profound and inevitable.

Caleb’s hands suddenly abandon their attention to your center, sliding upward to rest on your lower abdomen.

His palms press flat against the soft skin just below your navel, thumbs meeting in the center to form a V that points downward toward your panties.

“This part needs attention too,” he murmurs, eyes darkening as they fix on his hands splayed across your belly.

His thumbs press into the flesh just above your pubic mound, making small circular motions that seem less about easing muscle tension and more about... claiming.

“Does it hurt here too?” he asks, voice oddly tender as he presses down, watching the way your soft skin yields beneath his touch.

“Not really,” you admit, confused by this new focus. The soreness from last night was concentrated in your thighs and between your legs, not your abdomen.

Caleb doesn’t seem to register your answer, his attention fixed on the sight of his large hands spanning your lower belly.

“So perfect,” he whispers, almost to himself. His thumbs trace the slight dip below your navel, pressing with more firmness than necessary. “Right here.”

Something in his expression makes your breath catch—a possessive intensity that borders on reverence.

His purple eyes have taken on a distant quality, as if he’s seeing something beyond the present moment.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, voice small beneath the weight of his gaze.

His eyes flick to yours, then back to his hands on your belly. “The future,” he says cryptically, lips curving into a smile that sends shivers down your spine. “What will be.”

The pressure of his massage increases, his movements becoming more deliberate. He pours more oil onto your skin, creating a slick surface for his palms to glide over.

The scent fills the air between you—clean and sweet, almost cloying now with how much he’s used.

“One day,” he continues, voice dropping to a near-whisper, “there will be life growing right here.” His thumbs press into the soft flesh below your navel, circling the area with pointed intent. “Our little one, safe inside you.”

The words send a jolt of shock through you.

Is he talking about... pregnancy? About you carrying his child?

The thought disturbed you—he’s your adopted brother, your guardian—but something about the raw need in his voice makes your heart race with confused emotion.

“Caleb, I—“

“Shh,” he soothes, not looking up from where his hands work your abdomen with increasing pressure. “Just let me take care of you. Let me make it all better.”

His massage has taken on a rhythm now, firm circular motions that press deep into your lower belly.

It might feel good if not for a growing discomfort—your bladder, already full when you woke, now protesting sharply under his ministrations.

“Caleb,” you try again, squirming slightly. “I really need to use the bathroom now.”

He makes a non-committal sound, clearly not fully registering your words. His eyes have that faraway look again, focused on some vision only he can see as his hands continue their relentless pressure on your abdomen.

“So perfect,” he murmurs again. “Made for this. Made for me.”

The pressure in your bladder increases to an uncomfortable degree. You press your thighs together instinctively, trying to alleviate the sensation, but Caleb immediately notices and uses his elbows to nudge your legs apart again.

“Don‘t tense up,” he admonishes gently. “Let me work out all the knots.”

“But I really need to—“

“Just a little longer,” he interrupts, pressing deeper, his thumbs finding the exact spot that makes you wince with the pressure on your full bladder. “You’re holding so much tension here.”

It’s not tension he’s feeling but your distended bladder, now sending urgent signals that you can’t ignore much longer.

You try to shift away from his touch, but his hands follow, maintaining that firm, circular pressure that’s becoming almost painful.

“Caleb, please,” you whimper, genuine distress entering your voice now. “I need to go. Badly.”

For a moment, his brow furrows as if he’s finally processing your words. But then his expression smooths out again, replaced by that same possessive intensity.

“Let go,” he says, voice hypnotic. “Just relax and let go. I’ve got you.”

He can’t possibly be suggesting what it sounds like—Caleb, always so proper and protective, wouldn’t want you to urinate in his bed.

He must have misunderstood, must think you’re talking about emotional tension rather than a physical need.

“No, I mean I literally need to use the toilet,” you clarify, panic rising as his thumbs press down again, sending a jolt of urgent pressure through your lower body. “Please, just let me up for a minute.”

Caleb’s eyes remain fixed on your belly, his hands continuing their massage with unrelenting focus.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, as if he hasn’t heard you at all. “Perfect vessel for my seed. Let go, Pips. Let me take care of everything.”

One hand slides lower again, fingers finding your clit through the oil-soaked panties while the other continues pressing firmly on your bladder. The sensation makes you cry out, hips bucking involuntarily.

“That’s it,” he encourages, misinterpreting your reaction as pure pleasure. “Let it all go. Show me how good it feels.”

Your body is at war with itself—arousal building under his skilled touch even as your bladder screams for release.

You try once more to squirm away, but his weight shifts, one knee pinning your thigh to the mattress as his fingers continue their relentless stimulation.

“Caleb, stop, I’m going to—“ Your warning cuts off in a gasp as his palm presses down harder on your lower abdomen, his other hand circling your clit with increasing speed.

“Cum for me,” he demands, voice rough with need. “Let it happen, Y/N.”

It’s too much—the pressure, the pleasure, the desperate need for release of any kind.

You feel it happening and can’t stop it—a warm trickle at first, then more, heat spreading between your legs as your bladder finally gives in to the relentless pressure.

“Oh god,” you moan, equal parts mortification and relief as the dam breaks. Warm liquid pulses from you, soaking through your already damp panties to pool beneath you on the bed.

“Caleb, I’m sorry, I couldn’t—“

But something unexpected is happening alongside your embarrassment—the release of pressure, combined with Caleb’s continued stimulation of your clit, sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your core.

Your back arches as the release overtakes you—bladder emptying even as an orgasm crashes through your system, the two sensations twining together.

“Yes,” Caleb hisses, watching in fascination as your body surrenders completely. His fingers don’t stop their movement, working your clit through the thin, soaked fabric as you continue to release both urine and pleasure.

“That’s it, let it all out. Show me everything.”

Waves of ecstasy pulse through you, stronger than what you experienced last night, heightened by the relief of finally emptying your aching bladder.

You’re literally pissing on Caleb’s bed while he watches—but the pleasure is too intense to leave room for shame.

Your body shudders with aftershocks as the flow finally slows, your muscles relaxing completely in the aftermath of such total release.

The mattress beneath you is soaked, as are your panties and thighs. Caleb’s hand is wet too, glistening with more than just baby oil, yet he doesn’t pull away in disgust.

Instead, he looks... enraptured. His eyes are wide with wonder, fixed on the evidence of your complete surrender as if witnessing something sacred.

“Perfect,” he whispers, fingers still moving gently against your oversensitive flesh. “So beautiful when you let go for me.”

Awareness begins to return as the pleasure fades, bringing with it a flood of embarrassment so acute it makes your chest tight.

You just peed on Caleb’s bed—peed while he was touching you, while he was massaging you.

What kind of person does that make you?

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, tears springing to your eyes as the full weight of what just happened crashes down on you. “I tried to tell you—I didn’t mean to—“

But Caleb’s expression shows no disgust, no anger. If anything, he looks even more entranced than before.

“Don’t apologize,” he says, voice husky with arousal. “You were perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

His thumb brushes your clit once more, sending an oversensitive shudder through your spent body, before he finally removes his hand from between your legs.

The mattress is growing cold beneath you, reality intruding on the strange bubble of pleasure and release you were suspended in moments ago.

“But I—I made such a mess,” you stammer, gesturing helplessly at the wet spot spreading across the sheets.

Mortification propels you into motion, hands shoving at his chest as you try to scramble away.

“Let me go,” you plead, voice thick with embarrassment. “Please, just let me—“

But Caleb’s hands clamp down on your thighs, keeping you firmly in place despite your struggles.

“No,” he says, the single word carrying the weight of command. “Stay.”

“But I made a mess,” you protest, unable to look him in the eye. “I need to clean up, I need to—“

“Look at me,” Caleb demands, one hand releasing your thigh to grasp your chin, forcing your gaze to his. His pupils are blown wide with arousal, his breathing ragged.

He doesn‘t look disgusted or angry; he looks hungry. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you can process his words, he’s using his strength to spread your thighs wide again, exposing your soaked panties and the wet mattress beneath.

You try to clamp your legs shut, but his grip is unrelenting, his larger frame easily overpowering your embarrassed struggles.

“Caleb, please,” you whimper, tears of humiliation pricking at your eyes. “This is so embarrassing.”

His expression softens momentarily, thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “Don’t be embarrassed, Pips. Not with me. Never with me.”

The tenderness in his voice contrasts sharply with the possessive grip he maintains on your thighs. “What just happened was amazing.”

You shake your head in disbelief.

How could he possibly find your accident amazing? But his eyes are sincere, burning with an intensity that makes your heart race despite your mortification.

“Let me show you how much I mean that,” he murmurs, and before you can guess his intentions, his hand returns to your lower abdomen, pressing down with deliberate pressure.

“No!” you gasp, feeling a small fresh trickle escape at his touch. “Caleb, don’t—I can’t—“

But he doesn’t relent, his palm applying steady pressure to your bladder while his other hand moves between your legs again, fingers finding your sensitive clit through the sodden fabric of your panties.

“Let it go,” he coaxes, voice hypnotic. “Give me everything, Y/N. Every last drop.”

To your horror and confusion, your body responds to his command—another warm rush escaping to join the wetness already saturating the bed.

The release brings with it another wave of conflicting sensations—relief mingled with pleasure from his skilled fingers, all wrapped in a cocoon of deep embarrassment.

“Look at me,” Caleb demands again when you try to turn away. “I want to see your face when you surrender to me completely.”

You force yourself to meet his gaze, finding something there that transcends simple desire—a possessive adoration that’s terrifying in its intensity.

He watches every minute expression that crosses your face as the last of your pee releases under his persistent pressure, cataloging your vulnerability like it’s something precious to be treasured.

“Perfect,” he whispers, finally easing the pressure on your bladder but continuing to circle your clit with maddening precision. “So fucking perfect for me.”

Without warning, his hand lifts from between your legs only to return in a gentle slap against your soaked pussy.

The impact isn’t painful—just enough to create a small splash, sending droplets of warm liquid spattering across your thighs and his wrist. Your gasp is equal parts shock and confused arousal.

“Look what you did to me,” he murmurs, but there’s no accusation in his tone—only wonder. He repeats the motion, slightly firmer this time, watching in fascination as more liquid splashes from your saturated panties. “Marked me with you.”

You find yourself transfixed by the reverence in his expression, the careful way he explores this new territory between you.

“Caleb,” you breathe, not sure if you’re pleading for him to stop or continue.

His eyes lock with yours as he lifts his wet hand to his face. Time seems to slow as his tongue darts out, tasting the moisture clinging to his fingers.

Your breath catches in your throat—surely he isn’t—he wouldn’t—

But he does. His eyes flutter closed as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, tasting you with evident pleasure.

“Sweet,” he murmurs when his eyes open again, holding your shocked gaze. “Like the rest of you.”

“That’s—that’s disgusting,” you stammer, though your body betrays you with a pulse of heat between your legs at the sight.

Caleb shakes his head slowly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Nothing about you could ever be disgusting to me, Y/N. Don’t you understand yet?”

His clean hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing across your lower lip. “I want all of you. Every part. Even the parts you think should be hidden.”

“I’ve never—“ you start, then swallow hard. “No one has ever seen me like this before.”

“And no one else ever will,” Caleb says, the words carrying the weight of an oath. “This is just for us. Just for me.” His expression softens, though the possessiveness remains. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Before you can respond, he’s scooping you into his arms, lifting you effortlessly from the wet spot on the bed. One strong arm supports your back while the other cradles your knees, holding you against his chest as if you weigh nothing at all.

The gesture is so tender, so at odds with the raw intensity of moments before, that fresh tears spring to your eyes.

“Don’t cry, Pips,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he carries you toward the bathroom. “I’ve got you. Always.”

The bathroom is cool and bright after the heated intimacy of the bedroom. Caleb sets you down gently on the closed toilet lid, kneeling before you to peel your soaked panties down your legs.

The apple pattern is barely visible now, the fabric darkened and clinging to your skin. He removes them with unexpected gentleness, setting them aside rather than discarding them in the hamper.

“Arms up,” he instructs softly, and when you comply, he lifts your t-shirt over your head, leaving you completely naked before him.

He turns away to start the shower, adjusting the temperature with careful attention. Steam begins to fill the room as he returns to you, helping you to your feet and guiding you toward the glass enclosure.

“You‘re not coming in?” you ask, suddenly unwilling to be separated from him even for the time it takes to shower.

Caleb’s smile is gentle but his eyes still burn with that hunger. “If I join you now, we’ll never get clean,” he says, voice rough with restraint. “One thing at a time, Pips. We have all month, remember?”

“Go on,” he encourages, hand warm at the small of your back. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

When you finally step out of the shower, he‘s waiting with a fluffy towel held open, enveloping you in its warmth and his arms simultaneously.

He dries you with the same attention he showed during the massage, dabbing gently at your sensitive areas and wrapping your damp hair in a second towel with ease.

“Better?” he asks, helping you into a clean t-shirt he must have retrieved from your room while you showered.

You nod, feeling oddly shy now in the aftermath of such intimate exposure. “What about your bed?” you ask, remembering the mess you left behind.

“Don’t worry about that,” he says, something like satisfaction flickering across his expression. “I’ll take care of it later.”

There’s an unspoken promise in those words—that he doesn’t mind, that he might even cherish the evidence of you on his bed.

“That’s what good brothers do, after all,” Caleb adds, his tone light but his eyes anything but as they track over your freshly cleaned body with undisguised hunger. “Take care of their little sisters.”

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[dayboundpapercrane-deactivated2]

Apple Juice 🧃

caleb x reader (afab!) | MDNI 🔞 | cw: nsfw | cw: pissing | he calls you Pipsqueak :) | as promised it's Caleb's turn to piss on us ☆_☆, very self indulgent bc how did this end up being so long, you are a little shit, Caleb is into it but he refuses to admit it, matching each other's freak.

"Caleb pleaaaase"

It's the third time this week that you are nagging him about this. "Pleasee let me hold it while you pee!! Just once" Did he hear right? You want to hold his fucking cock while he takes a piss? Where did you even get that idea from, he's not even sure he wants to know actually.

Sighing annoyed Caleb turns to you "I already told you my answer, besides, I'm busy" he moves his hands over the table where a new aircraft model he got sits, 7,000 pieces waiting to be assembled. He ignores you for a third time.

"What a nerd." You scoff and hit his knee with your socked feet with no real force. You're just annoyed at him for not letting you get away with your admittedly weird request.

🧃

When Jenna approved your time off you had immediately called him to invite yourself to his house at Skyhaven. You two hadn't seen each other lately, he missed you as much as you did so he agreed before you finished talking.

But Caleb was starting to regret letting you stay over. It was seven am (Seven am!!!) on a weekend when he woke up, yawning walking towards the bathroom, hair a mess, blinking slowly he moves to take out his cock out of his sleep pants to piss when he shrieks making eye contact with you sitting on the sink staring at him.

"Peeing all by yourself beautiful?"

"GOD PIPS...you scared me!!! what the fuck!?"

With a hand on his chest feeling his heartbeat race he glares at your lopsided smile, you know he isn't really mad at you, the tips of his ears red giving away how he truly feels.

Caleb thinks you've lost your mind for sure.

"Aw cmon Caleb, you already know what I want. Look what you've made me do! I'm even following you to the bathroom"

Caleb stares at you, eyes filled with something between amusement and annoyance, he can't believe this, you really woke up at an ungodly hour (your words) all to ambush him on his own house, in his own bathroom.

"Im impressed I gotta say" he looks down at the toilet then at your eyes, his gaze changes, now full of mirth, he smiles at you crossing his arms, that smug look plastered on his face again, it makes you shiver and swallow, whatever he says now is bad news, but damn his biceps look good.

"Soooo, you want to hold it while I take a piss right?" you nod your head at him shamelessly and he sighs shaking his head.

"Come 'ere, let's get this over with" you gasp and move your fists up celebrating like you just won a championship getting down from the sink so fast you almost give him whiplash.

"Buuut! you owe me one for this, ok? Ok" you nod twice agreeing, you didn't care as long as you got your way.

"Someone's excited huh" he purposely makes himself sound more smug, he kinda has the upper hand after all, you do want to hold his cock so there's not much you can say. Stepping closer to him you lean and grab his soft cock.

"I just gotta aim right?"

"Do you even know the mess you can make if you fail"

"Caleb, honey, baby, I'm a hunter. My aim is flawless. Dont you worry, now relax and start. Cmon!"

Caleb blushes hard, this is ridiculous, he breathes in trying to focus on pissing, he can't get hard, no way, you're never letting it go if he does. He closes his eyes feeling your hand hold his length and decides to just do it, fuck it.

You gasp watching the stream start to come out, accidentally squeezing him a bit in excitement, he whines behind you and the sound makes your cheeks warm, legs clenching together. But you have a mission currently, you must stay focused.

"Fuck Pips wait...haa"

Moving his length you aim the stream of piss on the toilet correctly. You're proud that on your first you got it down, but his heavy breathing behind you is distracting, he also keeps making this small choked sounds and soft whines.

"Pips, that's enough, haa, let go"

"Already!? You aren't even finished!!"

"Hey listen! It's starting to feel wei-"

You huff because it hasn't even been a minute! He isn't even finished! Deciding you won't move he pulls at your arm making you let go of his cock to stop him, grabbing his wrists you lose balance and slip, your ass falling on the toilet seat.

You both stare at each other as the stream of piss covers your thin pajamas. Right, you were still holding his wrists. How was he going to grab his length again that way.

Caleb looks down at your sleep set getting soaked in his piss, the shudder that wracks his body is strong, a low moan coming out of his mouth making your pussy clench.

"Caleb..."

The stream of piss ends and he notices you're staring at his now hard cock dripping a bit, he feels lightheaded, you're soaked on his piss, sleep shirt sticking to your skin showing your pebbled nipples.

"Fuck, uhm"

He almost cums from the sight of you, the sound of you breathing hard while spreading your legs unconsciously has Caleb on edge, knowing you're aroused from one look at your eyes.

His lips twitch up, a smirk slowly forming at the revelation you liked being pissed on. That his piss turns you on so much the blush painting your cheeks goes down your neck and chest.

"Fuck, pips sorry. Here let me help you"

Caleb helps you stand up slowly, noticing everything is wet, your hair, chest, crotch, ass, and legs. It makes him feel good, you're his, it's obscene how you covered in the smell of his piss makes him feel excited.

"You like being pissed on Pips? Is it because it's warm? The smell? Tell me..."

"Or is it because it's mine..."

He's teasing, shivers run down your spine as he whispers in your ear all kinds of nasty reasons he can come up with as to why you're so damn aroused at being pissed on by him.

"Should I keep doing it, check if you can cum from that alone"

If he felt smug before, you were 100% convinced he was going to be insufferable now. But you're not the only pervert. Looking into his eyes, you push him to the wall, kissing him deeply.

"As if I'm the only one" you pull at his hard on and rub fast to get your point across and Caleb pulls his head back, delicious whines spilling from his lips as he cums on your hand grabbing your waist more.

He moves away from you, catching his breath, staring down at your body, tongue darting out to lick at his lips feeling them dryer, the action makes goosebumps break on your skin. Caleb always looks at you as if he can't get enough, it makes your insides twist with need.

"Nngh...That reminds me Pips...."

"You owe me one now"

Shit. You forgot that.

🧃

The next time it happens he has you naked kneeling inside the shower facing him, he just came back from work still wearing his uniform, the sound of his belt falling and zipper sliding down makes your heart race, his usual playful grin above you looking far too innocent for what he's about to do to you. You had agreed after all, you owed him one.

"Ready baby?"

His tone is sweet. Caleb could be doing the most depraved shit to you, while using that tone just to drive you crazy. You look up at him batting your eyelashes just to see him blush grin growing.

"Yes."

But you weren't ready for how much you like his piss hitting your chest directly, gasping softly at the warmth shivering feeling the drops fall down your belly towards your pussy, its so dirty, the smell making your cheeks flush and your nub throb.

"Caleb...caleb...Im close"

Caleb smiles more looking down seeing the blissed out expression on your face, lips bitten raw, pupils dilated, you keep rubbing yourself circling your clit slowly and he takes the opportunity to aim at your face.

Eyes clenching as it hits your cheeks, lips, and chin, shaky sighs spilling from your lips as your orgasm hits you in that moment, tasting him on your tongue.

"Fuck, did you just come? Baby did you?"

He holds your face softly, he rubs his thumb on your lips spreading a few drops on them, when you nod he pulls you up to kiss you deeply, his tongue slowly tasting you and himself, leaving you breathless.

"Can't believe I'm into you pissing on me Colonel, does this mean you've marked me? Claimed me?"

Caleb only looks at you amused, shaking head. You were going to kill him one of these days.

A/N: this is way longer than I initially planned lol, i like to think his piss doesn't have a strong smell and it's a very pale yellow, Caleb just looks like someone that keeps his health in check get me? ( →_→) totally normal to think abt that hah, hope you like it :)

Anyways it's 2am and I have a somno smut to write before the idea walks out my brain.

[https-capri]

he can pee in me ANYIME.. 🤗 TABBII SERIOUSLY WHAT THE FUCK?? (someone get the reference pls)

[https-capri]

i want to get into writing again so bad but i have no idea what to write about 😭 i feel like i just lurk on here sometimes bc my pieces from before are sooo old, also i need to make my acc cuter but idk how you guys do it 😔 so if the looks change im still capri don't leave me guys 🥹

[yohanisnothere]

Caleb take cares of needy you during fever

Pairing: Caleb x f! Reader

Content warning: NSFW, soft sex, fever sex, consensual fever play

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

You’re lying in bed, flushed and foggy, wearing only a tank top and loose sleep shorts. Caleb sits on the edge of the mattress, brushing your cheek with the back of his fingers, voice low and warm:

"You should be resting, sweetheart."

You tug at his sleeve.

“Just… stay. Please. Hold me.”

He hesitates, then slides into bed with you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against his chest.

You bury your face into his shirt, sighing at the cool fabric and the steady beat of his heart.Your hands clutch at his back. You're breathing deeper, but your body won't stop squirming, hips twitching as heat coils lower.

Caleb notices your thighs rubbing together and whispers softly:

“Are you feeling restless?”

You nod shyly, fever-glazed eyes meeting his. That’s all it takes.

Caleb kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips, slow and warm. His tongue brushes gently against yours, tasting you with patience as your hands fist his shirt.He touches your waist, fingertips dragging beneath your top.

"You're burning up..."

His palm is cool against your skin, large hand sliding up over your ribs and under your breast, cupping it gently through the heat.

Caleb moves over you slowly, letting you feel his weight. He keeps his body close, mouth kissing down your throat, chest against chest so you can feel the slow beat of his heart calming you.

His fingers hook into your waistband and pull your shorts down carefully. He drags them over your thighs, kissing each inch revealed.

"Tell me if it's too much, pipsqueak. We can stop anytime."

He parts your thighs, nestling between them, letting his hand drift down. His fingers stroke your slick heat slowly, gently teasing your folds, circling your clit with lazy pressure that makes your back arch.

When he slides a finger inside you, it’s so gentle it makes your chest ache. He watches your face, curling the digit slightly and whispering,

"Still with me? You’re so soft… so warm inside."

He makes love to you slowly, pressing in deep with his cock. Your legs wrap around his hips automatically. He keeps his forehead against yours, holding your hand in his. Every thrust is unhurried, smooth, making your walls flutter around him.

His mouth kisses every inch of you: temple, jaw, neck, collarbone, even the curve of your shoulder.

"You're perfect like this," he murmurs, rocking into you, his hips rolling fluidly, your bodies slick with sweat.

You whimper his name when you come, clinging to him. He follows shortly after, burying himself deep and trembling slightly against your feverish body.

Caleb doesn't pull out right away. He stays inside you, bodies tangled, kissing your forehead and stroking your hip as you come down from the high.

He wraps the blanket around you both, whispering softly:

“Get some rest. I’ve got you. Always.”

His arms never leave your body, and the last thing you feel before sleep is his hand brushing your damp hair back.

[https-capri]

this is like exactly how i think he would act it's so sweet (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

[lalalotta-deactivated20251229]

[nsfw!] caleb rubbing ur clit to sleep

Visit Original Link

WHAT WAS THAT PIPSQUEAK?!???!?

[https-capri]

oh my gosh this framed his character so well and it's so intimate i'm drooling

[onyxstitches]

80% of the way through writing this smut, and I just realized I never had Caleb take his pants off 😮‍💨 I'll go edit that in.

I was like 'wait I don't remember having him take his dick out' and I was right 🤦‍♀️

[jeansdoll]

virgin!caleb who’s never had the experience of receiving a blowjob. only ever imagining it — slouched in his gaming chair, the glow of his pc screen illuminating his dark room. annoyingly, having to wrap his own hand around his cock, stroking himself slowly with tired eyes glued to the porno playing in front of him. but in his mind, it’s you. not whoever’s on the screen. it’s you he pictures, wrapping your warm mouth around him.

and now, he doesn’t need the help of his imagination anymore.

you’re kneeling between his legs, one hand holding onto his thigh for stability as you bob your head up and down, the other hand stroking the parts you can’t reach. it’s messy, wet, spit dripping down to the base, and the sensation has his eyes rolling, breaths shaky, legs trembling under you. hands fidget like he doesn’t know where to put them, until one rests on your head, hesitantly guiding you at your rhythm.

he looks wrecked, brows knitted together, head tilted back against his chair and he barley has enough in him to keep his eyes on you. especially when you look up at him with those eyes, glassy, tears threatening to spill as you try to take him whole, tip kissing the back of your throat.

“fuck, o-oh my god.”

caleb’s quick grab your hair, keeping you in place — it’s assertive. your eyes widen, his bold action coming off as a surprise to you. a full 180 from how awkward he’d been earlier, confessing how inexperienced he was. his body jolts forward, a guttural groan leaving his lips. you grip his thigh harder, unable to move when you feel his warm cum shoot into your mouth. he uses you to milk himself, coating your throat white, completely filling you up.

his breathing begins to slow, husky moans turn into soft whimpers as his orgasm calms down. and he finally pulls out with a shaky sigh, a string of saliva keeping you both connected. you blink up at him while trying to catch your breath and caleb just stares back at you — lips parted, pupils blown, dazed.

“d-did you swallow.. all of it?”

you instinctively open your mouth, tongue lolling out, giving him exactly what he wanted, a view revealing the clean muscle. any trace of his seed was gone. he curses under his breath, the sight so dirty, so shameless — unable to look away, burning the image into his brain. it was enough to undo him all over again. and you weren’t going anywhere for a while.

✉️ masterlist !

[https-capri]

i just did a victory lap sprint this was written so good WHEW 😮‍💨😮‍💨

[lukie17]

I have a big brother and I can tell you that in no way Caleb actually acts like a big brother should do. A big brother will hit you without hestation, yes he would also kill for you, but for the sole reason that a big brother can only mess with you. A big brother will never see you as a woman and you are a effeminate boy to them. My brother loves me but he would never give me the same treatment as Caleb does with MC. Though MC has some childish tendecies with Caleb, I do not think she sees Caleb as a brother, more like her best friend.

Now that I have said that I present you: MC falling for Caleb.

Imagine Caleb being confused because MC is now starting to avoid his touch. MC now wears more conservative clothing with him and keeps his distance. Caleb is no longer Caleb, the best friend, but is now Caleb your CRUSH. MC does no longer see a boyish face but a man. Someone she cannot hide her feelings from.

Caleb is no longer hidding his feelings so he will pin you down and will ask you what the heck is the problem. Imagine, his reaction at the sudden realization that you are not avoiding him because you hate him, but because you know see him as man. This man will use that for his favor. Will tease you endeasly, and will make sure that you no longer think as Caleb your childhood friend, but Caleb the man that will move mountains for you.

Caleb who will show more skin on purpose, to get a reaction of you. Caleb who will tease you by working out in the living in room with nothing boxers because you are childhood best friends.

[babiicatt]

nsfw! remmick + f!preachers daughter!reader, rem is a total soft, needy dom, totally awkward, totally loser-y, extremely dubious consent in the beginning, never ever proofread, oral on fem.

I don't think that remmy ever got any pretty little maidens back in his day, subsequently because of his nervous, eager nature that he has carried through his vampire years.

that being said, it doesn't seem to stop him from tripping over himself when you sees you go by, making you feel awfully sorry for guy. just some new guy in town and he's already making a fool of himself for you - which makes you pretend not to notice the way he's everywhere you are, like a persistent shadow dogging at the heels of your feet.

you've been taught to be sympathetic to those in need, which only feeds into remmick's hopes when you return his stumbling words with your own soft n sweet ones. even just a hello from the preachers daughter and the Irish man felt like you had saved his soul.

and maybe remmick liked you (too much), not that he would ever say it. and you had to go and invite him to church and bring him home-baked pastries - things you did for everyone, though he would think otherwise - hell, you even had him even believing that you were wearing your skirts just a tad shorter for him.

so why are you surprised when he offers to walk around the forest trails with you that he's trying to kiss you?

"you're- you're just being too touchy, I think, is all," your voice like a bible hymn as you try to tell him off as politely as your daddy raised you too, head lilting far to evade his lips. "why, sweetheart," he's cooing to you in that southern drawl, "it ain't sex," he lets out with a chuckle as if you needed teachings in the way of god.

as he gets closer and closer, you put your hands to his chest, not pushing him away, but not bringing him any closer, either. "I know-" you stop, lowering your voice despite having nothing around you two for a few miles except the whispering of the wind, "I know that, but I'm just not ready-"

"oh, please baby, shh," he's shushing you, "you don't know what you want," and he believes what he says. why, he's a few hundred year old vampire, and you're just a little dolly thing. "I-i know you need this as much as I do," his statement upheld as his lips find yours, shutting you up even more effectively than before, ignoring the way your hands try to push him off.

"you don't know what you need," his voice promising you this as his lips slam against yours as his hands go and fumble to bunch up your skirt.

"no, no, none of that," he condescends you as you gasp and muscles make your arms move to go and push your skirt back down. "you'll see, sweet thing," his voice rasping a bit more as his nails take a dig at your panties, pulling them down, "you'll feel it, too. see n feel how you need me, how good I can be to you."

before you know it, his lips are suckling on your clit and fingers in your cunt as he looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes, everything about him feeling disgustingly good. "oh, you're just perfect. taste like peaches n cream," his speech muffled as he makes out with your pussy, voice barely making it up to your ears over your little moans you try so desperately to cage in your throat.

still, you can't help that when he gives your cunt a particularly perfect thrust of his fingers that you get louder and your hands go to his hair, tousling it to an even messier state than it had been in before. "o-ohhh, rem," you cry softly, tears that had been clinging to your bottom lashes drop.

"I know baby, I know," his other hand patting your thigh as his tongue works over your clit, "you gonna come for me baby? gonna be a good girl n finish?" his coaxing words making your pussy flutter, which made him smile against your soaking slit.

"yeah, you are," said before finishing you off with a particularly harsh suck to your clit, making your knees buckle, threatening your balance.

never a neglectful lover, remmick licks up the rest of your slick, cleaning you with his tongue before placing a lasting kiss on your slit before retracting himself from you. sitting back on his knees, his hands work up and down your thighs as he looks up at you with that adoring expression. "did you feel good, doll?"

[cherryredstarz]

Cherries 🍒

A/n: more nasty Caleb ☺️aka Caleb popping your cherry

Cw: NSFW, fingering (f receiving), unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it), a little blood, fluff, aftercare, petnames

Your Grandma was going to be away for the night—out visiting a close friend. Which left Caleb in charge of you at the house. He made your favorite braised chicken wings for dinner, and now you both were fooling around on the couch while watching a Disney movie.

“Caleb!” You giggle, dropping some pink confetti into his hair; you’d just celebrated your eighteenth birthday a couple days before. Caleb shakes his head like a wet dog while grinning. “What? Can’t handle being tickled by your gege?” The nineteen year old pulls you onto his lap and playfully bites at your neck.

You squeal and swat at his chest, before nestling into his warmth. You’re wearing one of his old shirts from highschool—it smells so comforting, like him. Burrowing your face into his neck, you inhale softly. “What’s all that for?” Caleb flicked your nose, albeit gently.

“Ya’ smell good.” You mumble.

“Yeah?” He squishes your cheeks together, like a pufferfish, before pressing a quick peck on your lips. You return to watching the movie, but it isn’t long before you feel a certain someone’s hands wandering down your hips to the bottom of your teeshirt. “What are you doing?” You tilt your head back at him. “Nothing.” He smirks, his fingertips brushing against the dainty lace of your panties.

You nearly gasp when his fingers slip under your panties, and begin to gently circle your clit. “C-Caleb!”

“Shh, Pipsqueak. Let me take care of my girl, yeah?” He mutters against your ear before giving your cheek another soft kiss. You both stay their like that, him leisurely rubbing your poor little bud while you leak into your underwear. Nobody’s ever touched you like this before, and Caleb is playing you like a fiddle.

You mewled and tried not to squirm as a strange, unfamiliar sensation began to fill your belly, and tried to keep your thighs still when they threatened to jerk. Then his hands creep lower, lazily stroking your pussy lips, and gathering all the slick that’s pooled in your slit. “C-Caleb—mph—”

“Caleb’s gonna take care of you.” He nipped at your neck before pushing a finger into you. You whimper and clench at the unfamiliar feeling. “Relax baby. Deep breaths for me.” He lazily pumps his fingers in and out of you. You moan into his neck, your thighs clenching around his hand. “Caleb—m’ tummy feels tight—” you’d never orgasmed before.

“Just let it happen. It’s okay baby.” He coos, and grins as you moan and for the first time, cum around his fingers. “Good girl.” He kisses your nose and gently wiped sweat from your forehead before sticking his wet fingers into your mouth. Whining, your tongue swirls around the digit. You taste…sweet.

Before you know it, you find Caleb had you laying on your back on the couch, and Caleb was tugging off your panties, and pulling down his pajama pants. “C-Caleb—I’ve never done this before..” you whisper, and he just gives you a little kiss. “I’ll take care of you, huh? When has your gege ever steered you wrong?”

Multiple times, you think, but your mind goes blank seeing the size of Caleb’s dick. Huge. “T-That’s not going to fit inside me.” You stammer.

“I’ll make it fit, okay?” He assures you. It takes two tries, but he lines up and gently thrusts inside you. You gasp, whimpering at the sharp pain. He does a few gentle thrusts, and the pain eases to a dull ache and the beginnings of pleasure bubbles in your belly.

“Popped your cherry, huh, pipsqueak?” Caleb’s hands gently massage your breasts. Your eyes flicker to where his were at—a tiny bit of blood on the base of his dick. You whimper, but he hushed you with a kiss. “It’s okay. It’s normal baby.” Caleb begins lazily thrusting—it feels so good.

2 hours later you’ve squirted and cummed more times that you can count, and you’re seeing stars as Caleb pounds your poor, abused hole. “C-Caleb—” you don’t even sound like yourself anymore; just a poor, wanton mess.

“So tight baby..” he moans, leaving another dark hickey on your neck. How are you going to hide these from Grandma?

Caleb moans as he blows another load into you; cum leaking from your weeping pussy. “Such a good girl, huh?” He kisses your cheek before easing out of you. Caleb puts his boxers and sweats back on before disappearing in the bathroom, and returning with a warm wash rag, and fresh pair of panties, and a clean teeshirt of his. Caleb gingerly wipes down your thighs and soaked cunt, and carefully redresses you.

“My girl, huh?” He carries you to bed and snuggled close.

“Love you Caleb..” you babble before passing out.

“I love you too, pipsqueak.”

[qinchesprincesss]

WEAR HEADPHONES!

NSFW

3 mins of Sylus eating you out and then fucking you.

All audio except for the music comes from the games. No AI.

[luvcaleb]

YOU'RE MINE.

nsfw (18+). includes aphrodisiacs, dry humping, rubbing cock over panties, possessive!caleb, caleb is gentle at first until you piss him off, this is basically ‘testing caleb's patience: the fic’, unprotected sex, creampie, i have to mention that caleb is possessive twice because caleb says some freaky stuff, sappy confession during sex, happy (horny) ending <3 likes and reblogs will be very helpful !!

Caleb doesn't accept love letters and chocolates whenever Valentine's Day comes along. However, girls directly stuff them into his bag without his knowledge sometimes, and you take it upon yourself to eat the sweets because Caleb would just throw it straight to the trash otherwise.

“It's a waste,” you'd always say. “You might not like them back, but they still made the effort to make chocolate for you.”

And then Caleb would shake his head, frowning, “Though most of them mean well, sometimes they put weird stuff in the food. So if I were you, I'd spit out that cupcake, pipsqueak.”

You usually don't heed his warnings—Caleb's always been kind of an overthinker. Now, though, you regret not listening to him as an unfamiliar heat spreads across your body, your core throbbing as you feel yourself dripping in your panties.

...The panties that's rubbing against Caleb's crotch right now, soaking the fabric of his pants while you grind down on him. Caleb's expression looks like a mix of confusion, worry, and arousal, his hands hovering above your waist as if unsure where to touch you. “Nn— hey, what's gotten into you? Do you even know what you're doing right now?”

You see his Adam's apple bob up and down as he nervously swallows, and you start feeling something poking you at your clothed core. Caleb sits up on the sofa where you pushed him down a while ago, grabbing your hands on his shoulders. “C'mon, tell me. I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong.”

You whimper, your body collapsing on top of his. He quickly scoops you up, one hand holding the back of your head, the other resting on your lower back, ensuring you're properly seated on his thighs.

“I... I feel weird,” you pant, clutching the front of his shirt. “I'm dizzy, and my body is hot all over. My...” you swallow down your embarrassment, “my pussy feels empty... Caleb, can't you help me? Please?”

Almost imperceptibly, his grip on you tightens by a fraction. He sighs, angling your head to make you look at him in the eye. Perhaps it's the trick of the light, but Caleb's face is a flustered pink. “I can't do that. You're going to regret it when you turn back to normal and get all weird about it.” He glances at the chocolates you ate on the table, brows furrowed. “Aphrodisiac chocolate... I should've known. Then you wouldn't have become like this...”

Your mind is in a daze. Your body feels unusually heavy, but your head feels like it's floating. Most of what he said is lost on you, and at this moment, the only thing you can focus on is that Caleb is looking at something else. You grab both of his cheeks, forcibly turning his attention to you. “Please help me, Caleb...” Clumsily, you lift up your hips, pressing your cunt against the tent in his pants. It glistens with your wetness, and Caleb can't help but groan when you rub the tip with your thumb. “It hurts... I need this inside me...”

Caleb has always adhered to your whims, but even he has his limits. He pinches your cheek, “I can't put it inside, idiot, I don't have a condom. I just have to make you cum, right?” He gestures for you to pick up the hem of your skirt, sucking in a breath when he sees how soaked you are. “Fuck....”

The entire crotch area is damp, and if he looks carefully, he can even see the faint shape of your clit. Curiously, he draws circles on it, breathing heavily when a fresh glob of slick stains your underwear. “That's hot...”

He pulls down his zipper, releasing his cock from his boxers. You gasp softly at the sight. He's long and thick, arching to a beautiful curve, colored almost red from the strain of holding back. He gives himself a few experimental pumps, moans coming from his mouth as he masturbates at the sight of you, holding up your own skirt to give him a perfect view of your wet panties, an innocent, frilly pair he can't wait to ruin.

He positions his cock to your folds, aiming at the spot your hole should be if not covered by your underwear. You both groan at the first slide, his pre-cum further soaking the fabric of your ruined panties. He wraps himself in his fist, teasing your clit as he pumps into his hand. More pearls of white spurt out of his tip. “Ah, fuck, that's good... so good...”

“Ah, ah, Caleb!”

You move your hips, moaning while he rubs himself against your cunt. The warmth of his cock is driving you crazy, and the added friction of Caleb rubbing your nipple through your clothes makes you even wetter than you already are. He's biting his lip, dazed eyes staring at your body appreciatively. “I'm taking this off, baby.”

He impatiently runs his hand through the buttons of your clothes, some of them popping off to clatter on the floor. “H-hey, I liked this shirt— haa...!”

“I'll buy you a new one,” he grunts, mouthing at one of your tits, sucking as if anything would come out. He unclasps your bra one-handed, throwing it over your shoulder. “These things are fucking annoying...”

Finally, he gets tired of rubbing you over your clothes. He lifts the side of your panties, sliding his cock inside to directly grind against your pussy. “Shit, that's more like it,” he moans loudly, your wetness gliding down his balls. “You feel so good.”

“Caleb, put it inside already,” you whine, scrunching up the fabric of your skirt in your fists. “This isn't enough for you either, hnn, right...? Give me your cock, please...”

Caleb grits his teeth, holding your hips to stop you from dropping on his dick. “Didn't I tell you I don't have a condom?”

“I don't care!” you struggle in his hold. “Fuck me, c'mon... it hurts...! If you don't...”

You pant against his ear, knowing exactly what you're getting into, drugged or not, “...I'll ask Zayne to fuck me instead.”

The effect is instantaneous. He pulls out, replacing his cock with two fingers plunging inside you at once, hitting deep all the way inside. You choke, gasping out for breath as his hand doesn't stop, slick jetting out of your cunt with every push of his fingers. His clothes are getting soaked, but Caleb doesn't care about them at all, coldly glaring at your face twisted in pleasure.

“So you're telling me you'd be fine with just anyone?” He's chuckling, but he doesn't sound like he's happy. “Fuck. I should've just done this from the start, then.”

He grabs two of the chocolates, popping one in his mouth. When he finishes swallowing, he places the other one in his mouth again, but then he suddenly grabs your jaw. “Open your mouth, slut.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, mouths locking together. The chocolate melts from the heat, his tongue licking at yours as he's forcing you to swallow. He doesn't let you go until he's sure you've eaten all of it, drool dripping from the corner of your lips.

“We're not stopping until you learn I'm the only one who gets to see you like this,” he grunts, taking out his fingers and slathering your slick on his cock to make it wet. “I'm the only one who gets to call you mine.”

“Haa... haa...”

Clothes are strewn messily on Caleb's bedroom floor, the mattress squeaking with each thrust of his hips. You're on your back, one leg hooked over Caleb's shoulder, staring into space as you're fucked absolutely stupid.

“Fuck, I can't stop my hips....” Caleb's still fucking into you, hasn't stopped for the past hour. The effects of the aphrodisiac have probably passed after the first two rounds, but his cock shows no signs of softening after release. He cums another load into you, overflowing from your pussy to spread into his sheets. “Ah, hng, shit... Hey, I told you not to waste it.”

He pulls out, pressing his fingers inside your loose hole to fuck his cum back in. You make a sound of protest, already feeling full.

“Are you starting to regret what you said now?” He grabs the back of your thighs, pressing your legs next to your ears. “Too late for that, though.”

Caleb groans, sloshing his cum inside your cunt with his dick. You helplessly grab at the sheets, moaning brokenly. His pelvis rubs against your engorged clit on every snap of his hips, driving you to squirt on his abs again, his torso glistening with your mess.

“You're squirting again? How many times have you cum?” Caleb laughs meanly, sucking another possessive mark among the smattering of hickeys he's already left along your collarbones. “Nasty girl...”

He leans back, getting a better view of your body. There are traces of him everywhere, from the hickeys on your neck, his cum on your chest because you couldn't swallow everything he poured in your mouth, and the faint bite marks on your inner thighs when he paid the favor and ate you out.

He presses a kiss on your chest, staring at you with dark eyes. “If you didn't say that, I would've been patient with you. Fingered you loose before putting my cock inside, making sure you're comfortable... I would've helped you ride out the effects of the aphrodisiac and never speak of it again. After all, to you, I'm just family.” He nuzzles against your cheek, his voice taking on a darker tone. “But you just had to call out another guy's name, didn't you... Would've fucked him if it was him here, not me...”

Caleb thrusts back inside you roughly, fucking your cervix. “You can't do that, you know? You've always belonged to me. Every part of you is mine, so no one else can touch you.” He cups your cheek, devouring your cries of pleasure with his mouth. “Just me... it's only me, right? I'm the person most important to you, right? You said so... So why are you bringing up another guy?”

He's asking questions, but he doesn't let you answer any of them, kissing you so much you almost can't breathe.

“Even though I'm in front of you...” Kiss. “Even when I'm the only one who loves you this much...” Kiss, kiss. “You're still thinking of another person...” Kiss, kiss, kiss. “That's hardly fair when you're all I think about everyday.” Another sloppy kiss.

You weakly push his chest, breaking away from the kiss. “Wait, Caleb—”

He pins your wrist to the bed. “I'm not stopping.”

“I'm not telling you to stop, I'm telling you to liste— ahh, haa, hnn!” The cock still ramming up your walls makes it much more difficult to speak, hammering against the sweet spot that makes your toes curl. “Fuck, ah— Caleb, listen to me!”

He hums as he sucks another hickey on your skin. “I am.”

You don't have it in you to argue even when he clearly isn't, trembling at the pleasure. The hand holding your wrist travels upwards to intertwine your fingers together, grounding you back to reality.

“Caleb, I was just— I didn't mean what I said...” you stammer, trying your best to speak without getting distracted. “I, mmh....! W-wouldn't do this with anyone else... haa... I just said that so you'd fuck me— ah, ah!”

He scoffs, slowing his pace when he sees you being overwhelmed. “You're just making excuses to get me to stop.”

“I'm not, you dummy! I...” your brows pinch together, embarrassed to say it but you continue anyway, “Caleb, you're the one I think of when I touch myself... nn... And I know it's wrong, and you only think of me as someone you should take care of, but, I, haah, I like it when you kiss me, or when you hug me, and I— gh! I like it when you fuck me hard, too, just like this...”

You move your hand to cup Caleb's jaw, admiring his awestruck expression. He looks at you like he's seeing you for the first time.

“I'm not telling you to stop,” you repeat yourself firmly. “I just wanted to say I didn't mean that thing I said earlier, and if it's you, you can do whatever you want to me. Because I love you just like how you love me, Caleb.”

His hips come to a complete stop. “Say that again.”

“I love you, Caleb.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“Okay, you're really pushing it, it's embarrassing to sa— aah!”

He grabs your hip, pulling you back to his cock. He fucks you frantically, harsh groans leaving his lips, your name like a prayer. “Fuck... you love me? You love... me?” The words seem unfamiliar on his tongue, heartbreakingly quiet. You squeeze your connected hands.

“I love you, Caleb. I really, really love you, I've loved you a long time ago...” you tilt his chin, making him meet your gaze. “Now say it back.”

“I love you,” he says with certainty, as if it's a fact of the universe. “I love you so much.” He buries his head into your neck, sucking new marks. “I love you... fuck... I love you so badly, it hurts...”

His cock drives deeper, the wet slaps of skin deafening in the room. Cum dribbles out of your hole with his thrusts, and he swipes it up to smear it on your engorged clit. Rub, rub. Rub, rub.

“Shit, Caleb!” You wail, rutting to his finger. “Everything feels so good, ah, ah!”

“You feel so good, too, aw, fuuuck...” he's melting inside you, your warm walls clenching around him so tight, sucking him back in every time he pulls out. “Your pussy keeps sucking me back in...!” 

“Ah, hnahh, ngh, yes, like that, ah! I'm cumming, cumming!”

His balls draw tight, his cock about to burst. “Fuck, shit!” he fucks in, in, in, until he's filled every space in your cunt, thumb frantically rubbing at your clit. Clear liquid soaks his cock, wetting his pelvis, and he follows you in your release, shooting ropes of milky cum deep inside your pussy. “Fuck, ah, take my cock, take my fucking cum all the way in, ohh— take it deep in your womb—”

He keeps cumming, and cumming, and cumming. “It won't stop,” he moans against your ear, watching your hole overflowing with his semen. “Your pussy feels too good, it's sucking me dry...”

“Caleb, shit, how are you still— ohh, fuuck...” you whine as the last spurts of semen hit your torso, Caleb having pulled out and pumping his dick to cover you in his cum.

Finally emptied, Caleb collapses on the spot beside you, running a hand through his hair. “I need a shower,” he mutters, feeling the stickiness on his body.

“We need a shower,” you correct him. “I probably won't be able to walk for the next few days, all thanks to you, so you better take responsibility and carry me everywhere.”

Caleb laughs, light and airy, nothing like the dark tone he's been speaking in earlier. He pulls you to his chest, pressing chaste kisses all over your face. “Anything for the girl I love.”

[https-capri]

holy moly... 😳 caleb the man that you are. and this WRITER TOO i need more omg 🤭

[seasidebubbles-deactivated20250]

the morning after your first time with caleb

content info/warnings: caleb x afab reader. feminine terms used for the reader (such as ‘pretty girl’ and ‘gorgeous girl’). swearing. pet names. graphic depictions of sexual activities. oral sex (m and f receiving). caleb has a big dick just because okay. protected piv sex (condom use). cumshot (facial). a little bit of cum eating. word count: 5.1k author’s note: this was just an idea i had to ease myself back into writing. i'm considering doing a 'morning after' piece for each of the lnds men, but i don't have them all thought out yet, so i'm not sure if it will work out. but i hope this one is enjoyable at least! divider by @cafekitsune

Sunlight kisses your face, coaxing your eyelashes to flutter open in its warm, pale yellow glow streaming in through the window. For reasons not yet at the forefront of your mind, you are already smiling when you wake.

It might have something to do with the equally warm presence behind you, however. The heavy arm slung across your waist, completely relaxed. The slow, rhythmic breaths puffing against the nape of your neck. The lingering tenderness between your legs that brings as much heat to your face as it does giddiness to your heart.

Last night’s events are fresh in your mind, but a few moments stand out more vividly than others. An open-mouthed kiss right over his racing heart. The slow slide of your panties down your legs. The wrinkle in his brow when he pushed inside you. All of it amounts to one simple truth:

You and Caleb had sex last night.

You and your best friend made love last night.

Yes, that. That is why you are smiling. Because you wholeheartedly understand the meaning of “making love” now.

Caleb did not even say the words last night. Not before, not during, not after.

And neither did you.

But you both knew what it was, because you both knew it had been a long time coming. You cannot speak for him, but you loved him two minutes after meeting him, all those years ago when you were children.

Although his presence behind you is undeniable, you have to turn around this instant to see him again. This man you love.

You rotate as gently as you can so as not to disturb him. Caleb gives a quiet huff and nuzzles his cheek deeper into his pillow. His arm is still limp across your body. The other is bent and stuffed under his pillow.

The smile is still on your face, but wider now. You free one of your arms from the tangled sheets to brush his ashy black bangs away from his eyelids. And while your hand is already right there, you find yourself brushing your knuckles down his slightly stubbly cheek as well.

It was not your intention to wake him, but you cannot say you are disappointed to see his eyes open. Those lovely purple irises have always been your greatest—and favorite—weakness.

Caleb wakes much quicker than you, eyes opening with none of the slow blinking, and smiles when he sees you watching him. Then he inhales deeply and covers your hand with his, pressing it even closer to his face.

“Good morning.” His sleepy voice is a little gruff. A little reminiscent of the deep groans he could not seem to contain last night.

The tenderness between your legs throbs.

“Morning. How did you sleep?”

He hums and clears the rasp in his throat. “Great, actually. I slept great. What about you?”

“Same.”

“I didn’t snore, did I?”

You grin and slip your hand out from under his just to poke his cheek. “Actually, you did. In my dreams. It was terrible.”

The only response he has to that is a bigger smile. He lifts his arm from your waist so he can swipe his thumb back and forth across your cheekbone.

As the seconds tick by, both your smiles slowly slip from your mouths, but not from your eyes. The weight of last night—the culmination of years and years of love laced with unspoken tension—hangs in the cramped space between you.

“It’s—”

“I’m—”

You both stop speaking as suddenly as you started. A bit of awkward laughter floats out of your lips.

“You first,” Caleb says before you can. He moves his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, cradling it while he waits for you to speak.

You lick your lips—briefly recalling the gentle firmness of every kiss he pressed to them last night—and say, “I was just going to say, I’m really happy. I’m happy last night happened, and I’m… I don’t know if this is weird to say out loud, but I’m happy we were each other’s firsts.”

Those purple eyes melt. Caleb sighs and leans in to kiss your forehead, lingering there for several long seconds.

“Nothin' weird about that at all.” He presses two more slow kisses to your forehead. “I’m happy too. About last night. About you being my first. All of it.”

He shifts and rests his chin on top of your head. You snuggle in closer and kiss the first patch of skin you come across, which is the base of his throat. It bobs against your parted lips when he swallows.

“So what were you going to say?”

“Mm. Sounds silly in comparison to what you said. I should've went first.”

You grin into his skin. “You never learn that lesson, do you. But now you have to tell me.”

He sighs again, winding his strong arms around you, lazily stroking his fingertips down your naked spine.

“I was going to say, it’s nice havin' you be the first person I see in the morning. I want that to happen every single day forever.”

You blink, then press your palms to the wall of his chest to lean away and look him in the eye. You expect to find mischief on his face, but he regards you patiently, curious to hear what else you have to say.

“Is that really what you were going to say?” you ask.

His eyebrows wrinkle. “Yeah… Why?”

“That wasn’t silly at all. That was sweet.”

“Ah. Well, what you said was sweeter.”

You giggle and hug him tight, snuggling back against his chest. “If I knew it was a competition, I would’ve said even more.”

“I mean, you still can,” he says. The grin is obvious in his tone. “Far be it from me to stop you, babe.”

You giggle harder and shove him until he rolls onto his back with you on top of him.

His hands automatically find a comfortable place on your thighs straddling his lap. The feeling of his soft cock trapped between your bodies stirs up more memories from last night, but you ignore them for now. The hitch in Caleb’s breathing tells you his mind is in a similar place.

“I’ll tell you sweet things every morning I wake up next to you,” you tell him softly. “I’ll tell you how I adore your eyes. And your smile. And your laugh. And your protective instincts. And your uncanny ability to dirty every dish in the kitchen when preparing a simple meal for two—”

“You—! Listen—”

He easily flips your positions to pin you beneath him on the mattress. You giggle madly. With anyone else, such a brutish display of strength would be frightening, but not with Caleb. He is the only person you would ever trust to manhandle you like this, because you know how gently he treats you otherwise.

You know how much he loves you.

“That’s only sometimes,” he defends himself weakly. His wide body forms a canopy above you, against the sunlight. Even while admiring the glowing outline around his skin, you still find the capacity to tease him.

“Right. Sometimes I adore your laugh.”

Caleb scoffs. “You think you’re soo funny, don’t you. I liked it better when you were tellin' me how much you adore my eyes.”

“Okay, okay,” you say between laughs. You wind your arms behind his neck and tug him closer. “Your eyes are gorgeous and they’ve always been my biggest weakness, all right? There. Now you can tease me about it for the rest of our lives.”

He lowers his weight onto his forearms, and his chest serves as a stark reminder as to just how naked you both are when it presses into yours. The tingling heat of him is electric, searing all the way through to your heart.

“Tease you?” he says, trailing his fingers down your cheek. “Doesn’t sound like something I would do...”

You laugh again at that obvious lie. A snarky retort forms on your tongue, but it quickly dies when Caleb leans in and kisses the tip of your nose. He kissed so many parts of you in so many ways last night, but you realize now that your nose was not one of them. Your humor softens to adoration, and he smiles back before swooping to peck your lips.

His kisses start off sweet and gentle, but as soon as you edge the tip of your tongue against the seam of his lips, he moans and changes the very atmosphere. His hold on you tightens when he licks into your mouth.

“Caleb…”

He exhales hard and maneuvers down the length of your body, trailing kisses over every patch of skin he meets along the way.

“Want you,” he whispers into your skin, still kissing, still sliding downward. “Want you in my bed, naked, every morning, every night, every chance we get, any time you want. You just tell me when. I’ll come runnin'. Just want you by my side. Always.”

It is the easiest thing you could ever promise him. You cannot remember a single scenario in which you have ever willingly parted from him, and you are not about to start now.

Caleb slots himself between your legs, easily nudging them apart with his broad shoulders. He spreads his long fingers across your lower stomach, holding you delicately, as if you might break apart at any moment.

You reach down to cup the side of his face. He looks to you through his long, dark eyelashes, blinking slowly.

“You have me. Always.”

He gives you the most dazzling, heart-stopping smile you have ever seen. As if you have given him the entire universe.

That joy quickly rolls into burning desire when he begins stamping open-mouthed kisses across your inner thighs, first one, then the other, gradually drawing closer and closer to your aching center.

“Caleb,” you moan.

“Can I have another taste, baby?” he asks, and you are not sure if it is the rumble of his voice against your skin or the pet name that sends a tremble up your spine. “Please? Can I please eat your pussy again?”

Well, when he asks so politely…

“Yes. Please.”

That is all he needs to dive in with the relief of a starved man.

His tongue is seemingly everywhere at once; gliding through your pussy lips, wriggling into your hole, circling around your clit. He truly makes good on his word to eat you. His nose digs insistently against your slick flesh, frustrated by his limits and wanting to be buried even deeper into you.

You reach down to thread your fingers through his thick hair; not to guide him, merely to soothe him and help convey your appreciation.

“F-Fuck, that feels so good…”

He grunts into your pussy. “You taste so fuckin' good, baby. Just wanna live between your legs. Wanna die between your legs, too.”

“You better not!” you laugh, tickling his scalp. “Think of how embarrassing it would be for me to tell the Fleet their Colonel died eating pussy.”

“They’d probably award me a posthumous medal. You’ll have to collect it in my stead.”

You try to contain your laughter but only end up wheezing.

“Yeah, keep laughin’, baby. Makes you taste even better.”

You don’t think it works that way, but you can’t keep laughing anyway. Not when he suddenly achieves the perfect amount of suction around your swollen clit. The pleasure spiking through your nerves winds you tighter and tighter; your toes are curling in on themselves, your back is beginning to bow off the mattress, your eyes are rolling back in your skull.

Caleb wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you grounded and spread open for him. The wetter and sloppier his work gets, the more he seems to enjoy it. Every little thing he does produces a filthy squelch, but the moans he draws from you are still louder.

“Shit, baby, the sounds you’re making…”

“C-Can’t help it—ngh—yes, Caleb, yes—”

“What else can I do to keep you moaning for me?”

With how confident and assured his actions have been, you nearly forgot he is just as new to this as you are.

“Fuck me,” you tell him, breathless. “Please fuck me.”

He swears and unwinds his arms from your legs, sitting back on his heels. Those purple eyes have darkened to a deep indigo with how wide his pupils have blown. You meet his dark gaze as he half-heartedly wipes the stickiness off his chin with the back of his hand.

“My pretty girl wants me to fuck her, huh,” he says, practically purring. “When did she get so horny, hm?”

Even while he is teasing you, he still reaches for his night stand and digs out a condom packet. You watch with a smirk as he opens it and rolls the condom onto his long cock.

“Says the one who just said he’d be okay with dying between my legs.”

He lets out a small laugh under his breath. “Yeah, you got me there,” he says. He lowers himself onto his forearms, caging you beneath his large frame. “How do you want me to fuck you, baby? Just like this?”

“Can I be on top instead?”

Something flashes across his face, too quickly for you to decipher it.

He clears his throat and says, “Y-Yeah, of course. Come here.”

His hands are warm and a little shaky when he helps position you on his lap. Rather than lying back, he remains sitting up with you, face inches from yours.

“Are you okay?” you ask, running your palms up the warm planes of his chest.

“I’m fine, just… afraid I’ll come in two seconds like this.”

More laughter pops past your lips. “I’d be flattered if you did, honestly.”

You brush his hair off his forehead, then gently trace his earlobe and finger the thin chain dangling from it.

“I’d be mortified if I did,” he counters with a self-deprecating chuckle. The rest of his breath leaves his lungs in a soft sigh when you bend down and kiss him. His lips chase yours when you pull away, unable to hide his eagerness despite his concerns.

“I’ll go slow then.”

You reach down between your bodies and line him up with your entrance. Caleb sits back a little and watches his tip disappear into your wet heat, while you watch a muscle in his jaw tick. You soothe your free hand across that sharp jawline. He leans into your touch, eyes flicking to your face for a brief second, then back down to where your bodies are connected when you take in another inch.

The stretch is still a foreign feeling, and the tenderness in your walls throbs harder against the intrusion of his cock splitting them apart once again. He does not miss the flicker of pain that crosses your face after another inch slips inside sooner than you intended.

“Hurts?” he asks, reaching for your hips, ready to lift you right off his lap.

You nod. “A little. I’m a little sore, but I’m okay. It’ll pass.”

Caleb purses his lips, clearly conflicted, and you understand why. You understand this feels nothing but blissful for him—although the condom must surely dull some of the sensation—while it is still a bit painful for you. His intimidating size does not help, but it is to be expected, considering his cock is perfectly proportionate to the rest of his large build. And he is well aware of how well-endowed he is, too. He made sure to prep you for a long time last night, stretching you carefully with his fingers, ensuring you were wet enough for there to be no resistance when he pushed inside you for the first time.

This angle feels different though. He feels even deeper this way. And maybe it’s your imagination, but he feels harder as well.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, fully focused on your face now. “We don’t have to keep goin' like this. I can go back to eating you out, maybe use my fingers again?”

“I’m okay. You’re just… big.”

He huffs and halfway rolls his eyes, but you catch the way the tips of his ears burn pink. “Well, I can’t help that,” he says, “but seriously, you can tell me you want to stop at any time, okay? I don’t care if I am two seconds away from coming. Just tell me to stop and I’ll go make us some breakfast, ok—”

“All right,” you say, grinning when you peck his cheek. “I’ll tell you if I want to stop, I promise. But I’m fine right now. I hardly even feel any pain anymore. Really.”

It might be because you can also feel his cock twitching and pulsing inside you, and it is turning you on beyond belief, pushing the pain out of your mind. You actually fight the urge to bounce on him this very second just to see if you can handle it, because you know you will regret rushing into it.

Caleb gives you a shaky nod, inhaling deeply and gulping hard. “Okay. Just… slow,” he reminds you.

You ease yourself the rest of the way onto his cock, until your pelvis is flush against his. Caleb studies your face, amethyst eyes brimming with awe and raw desire. His thumbs are rubbing mindless, soothing circles into your skin. You rock yourself back and forth a few times, testing the new angle and depth and overall fullness you are experiencing. It feels like his cock had to carve out extra space inside you just to fit.

As soon as the stretch is more pleasurable than painful, you give a few tentative bounces.

“Fucking—fuck,” Caleb breathes rather poetically. His fingers dig harshly into your hips. “S-Slow, baby. Don’t—h-hngh, ugh, fuck—don’t hurt yourself.”

You moan and shake your head. “Doesn’t hurt. You feel so good inside me.”

Caleb exhales hard and leans back a little more to look again at the place where his cock is disappearing and reappearing. A particularly good bounce has him falling all the way back onto the pillows with a deep rumble.

“God, it’s so fucking deep. You take me so well, baby. You’re taking all of it so—fuck—so fuckin' well…”

It is all you can do to whimper in agreement, too focused on riding him well enough to have him groan like that for you again.

His hands glide around to your stomach, squeezing gently, then around to your jiggling ass. He is not shy about taking two firm handfuls, groping tight. The look he gives you when you meet his eyes is positively carnal.

“You’re incredible,” he groans, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. “Can’t believe my pretty girl is bouncing on my dick right now.”

You manage to smirk in between all the moans leaving your lips, but you have no response, especially when you tilt your hips just enough to have his tip pressing into your sweetest spot with hardly any effort. A high-pitched squeal wrenches its way from your throat. If you were on your hands and knees, you’re sure they would have given out and left you face-first and boneless on the mattress.

“Right there?” Caleb hisses through gritted teeth, his jaw too tense to unhinge and speak properly. “Are you hitting it, baby? Yeah… yeah, you are. I can tell by how much tighter you just got. Keep going. Keep my dick right—fuckin'—there—baby.”

When did the boy you always thought of as a human-puppy become this dirty-talking fiend, you wonder.

Though you are not complaining. Far from it. His words have your pussy absolutely gushing around him. The wet plaps of skin on skin can probably be heard through the window and down to the street. The noises are certainly echoing off the walls, at least, serving as excellent fuel to ride him faster, harder, deeper, more.

You can barely get out the words to urge him, “K-Keep talking, Caleb, please…”

He hums and sits up straight again, careful not to jostle you too much and ruin your rhythm. One of his thumbs finds your clit to press messy, sticky circles into it and edge your orgasm along.

Then he brings his full lips to the shell of your ear. His voice sounds half an octave deeper when he whispers, “My gorgeous girl. You asked me to fuck you, but here you are fucking me into the mattress. No, don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop, baby. Keep fuckin' me. Use me. Take what you need.”

You hug him tightly, nails clawing into his muscular shoulders, and whine into his neck. With his sweet and salty skin right there on your lips, you want to bite and nip and suck on it, but breathing is taking almost as much brainpower as riding him at the moment.

Caleb nuzzles his nose into your hairline, still close to your ear, and whispers much softer, “I love you. So damn much. I always have.”

Your orgasm explodes through you, catching you both totally off-guard. Caleb gasps at the sudden clench of your walls around him, and you practically scream his name as white hot bliss overtakes you. You grind your hips into his, seeking even more friction from his thumb on your clit to wring out every morsel of ecstasy you can.

“Holy shit, where did that come from, baby?” Caleb says, laughing in breathless delight. “Didn’t think you’d be the one to come in two seconds. Damn.”

You hiccup and shiver against him, panting hard into his neck as you gradually float back down from wherever he sent your soul.

When you regain your wits, you laugh as well. “I guess I just really like your dirty talk,” you admit, voice thick and hoarse. “I’m not used to you saying such filthy things.”

The shit-eating grin he gives you is somehow adorable and devious at the same time. “Oh, you’ll get used to it,” he says, “because I plan on having a lot of sex with you. And if talking dirty gets you to come like that every time?” He lets out a low whistle, and you give his shoulder a tiny swat.

“Yeah, well, now I think my legs are too weak to keep riding you,” you say, pouting.

“That’s all right, baby. You did so well for me. Let’s stop here.”

You shoot him a look. “But… you didn’t come yet, did you?”

“Nah, I’m good. If you’re tired, I’m not pushing you,” he says, which only makes you pout harder. He can’t help but smile and poke your protruding lip with his thumb. “Don’t give me that—ah—”

The rest of his words are cut off with a gasp when you pull off his throbbing cock. It falls against his abs with a solid, wet slap. You go to pull the condom off, but he catches your wrist.

“W-What are you doing?”

“I want to suck you off. Can I?”

“You r-really don’t ha-have to,” he stammers weakly. “I promise I’ll be fine with b-blue balls for half an hour.”

“Caleb, I really want to suck your cock right now,” you say as firmly and matter-of-factly as possible. “Do you want that too?”

He blinks once, twice, three times. He opens his mouth, closes it, licks his lips, swallows hard. It is strange to see him rendered speechless for once. It even starts to freak you out a little.

Finally, he lets go of your wrist and peels the condom off himself with a shaky hand, dropping it to the floor without a care. Then he reaches for the back of your neck and guides you toward his twitching length.

“Yes, I want you to suck my cock, please.”

You grin and situate yourself comfortably between his thick thighs, then reach for his cock. It practically jumps into your hand.

Caleb sucks a breath through his teeth as soon as you wrap your fingers around his burning length. The veiny hand not cradling your head fists the sheets at his side. His reaction over such a small thing spurs your confidence to keep going. Even though this is uncharted territory for you, you are determined to make him feel as good as possible and come every bit as powerfully as you just did.

But before you take him into your mouth, you experiment with varying levels of pressure, getting a feel for the motions and soaking in his every reaction, big and small. He seems to particularly enjoy it when you squeeze the spot just below his mushroom-shaped tip. He makes a sweet, soft noise every time you rub that spot, and his hips jerk every time, too.

A thick drop of precum rolls from his slit and down the side of his cock, compelling you to lean forward and lick it up. He instantly gasps at the sensation of your warm, wet tongue.

You wrap your hand around his base before wrapping your lips around his dripping tip, and it is a good thing you do because his hips buck straight off the bed, greedy to find more friction in the heavenly, wet warmth of your mouth.

He apologizes, but you oblige his body language and hollow your cheeks to give his cockhead a tight, loud suck. It sounds sloppy, unrefined, and a little cringey, but if Caleb is turned off by your inexperienced technique, you would never know it from the way his breathing changes, practically whining with every exhale.

He lifts his neck to watch the erotic show when you start bobbing your lips up and down the few inches you can comfortably fit in your mouth without choking. You be sure to tongue that spot just below his tip, not just to edge him closer to the point of bursting, but because you enjoy the way he shivers just as much.

It does not take long for your jaw to begin straining with the new, unexercised motion, but it will take nothing short of divine intervention to stop you now.

Caleb gives the back of your neck a tender squeeze and whispers, “Shit, baby, that’s s-so fucking nice.”

You nearly laugh with a mouthful of cock because surely only Caleb would describe a blowjob as nice, of all things. It is with that you realize the stern, authoritative Colonel of the Farspace Fleet is absolute putty in your hands. You almost want to come again to the thought alone.

Instead of tending to yourself, you focus on him and redouble your efforts by reaching for his balls and giving them an experimental squeeze. They are wet from the saliva pooling out of your mouth and down his length. They feel heavy, too.

“F-Fuuuck,” he groans, slumping back to the pillows. “Gonna fuckin' kill me, baby.”

“Oh no,” you coo, kissing down the length of his glistening cock, “then I’d have to tell the Fleet you died getting your balls sucked. Do you think they’d award me a medal in that case?”

Whatever his response was going to be is choked off when you do exactly as you say and suck one of his heavy balls into your mouth. The skin around it is different; a little loose but also taut, and delicate, too. Not like the smooth, velvet skin wrapped around his solid cock. You suckle it gently, minding your teeth and essentially letting it rest on your tongue as your lips do all the work.

The hand Caleb has on your head tightens harshly for a brief second, then lifts away to tear at the sheets instead. You smirk and let go of his ball with a soft pop to move to the other and pay it equal attention. Careful not to neglect the rest of him, you pump your hand up and down his wet cock tightly, quickly. He nearly chokes on his own broken breaths at one point, his body too fucked out and delirious with pleasure to concentrate on anything but his looming orgasm.

“B-Baby, I’m gonna—fuck—if you keep going like that, I-I’ll—”

His boyish voice is so warped with unbridled lust you hardly recognize it.

You immediately lift your head and take his tip back into your mouth, sucking what you can and jerking the rest of him feverishly. He bucks his hips again, and you don’t even care when his cockhead threatens to breach your throat because he whimpers so sweetly it borders on downright pitiful.

“Gonna come, gonna come, fuckfuckfuck. It’s coming baby, it’s coming, hah—”

Caleb erupts into your hot mouth. The first shot of cum coats your entire mouth from roof to tongue. You try to swallow it down, but the second shot spurts out just as forcefully, and you end up sputtering over the excess. You pull back to take a moment to properly swallow, and the rest of his cum ends up shooting over your lips and chin and cheeks. You keep jerking him, determined to get every drop out.

When you accidentally push him into overstimulation, he carefully pries your hand off his cock. It plops against his hard stomach, rosy and spent and still twitching.

He sits up on his elbows and stares at you with wet, heavy-lidded eyes. His strong arms are wobbling from how boneless his orgasm has left him.

“Holy shit. That was… you are amazing.”

You giggle and scoop a rapidly dripping streak of cum off your cheek, then place it right on your tongue, just to watch the way his face twists in torment.

“Gonna kill me,” he emphasizes, shaking his head. He picks his shirt off the floor and carefully cleans the rest of the mess off your face with it. It will do for now.

Before you drag yourselves out of bed and move on with the day, you climb up to fit yourself against his side, snuggling close. He wraps an arm around you, still fighting to regain control of his breathing. You trace mindless circles into his heaving chest. His heartbeat is erratic under your ear when you lay your head against it.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Caleb kisses the top of your head and hugs you tightly against him.

“I know.”

© seasidebubbles. all rights reserved.

[https-capri]

this was perfect i'm screaming and screaming and did i say screaming??

[ladsloveletters]

BACK FOR YOU

summary: Caleb returns to find out you’re having sex with your best friend Zayne.

warnings: MDNI, 18+ content

tags: Nurse!MC, ZaynexMC, CalebxMC, FWB!Zayne, Jealous!Caleb, Love triangle trope perhaps, Caleb doesn’t die in this fic, rough sex, fingering, spitting, spanking, gagging, other filthy stuff, there’s plot in here because i enjoy context lol

word count: 6.2k

notes: not edited and read over quickly once lol just want more caleb smut in my life. also like the idea of love triangle between childhood friends.

The morning shift was almost at its peak. People flooded the hallway. Nurses at the nursing station ruffling through patient files. Doctors pagers beeping as they scurry to the next consultation. Radiologists yelling at physiotherapists to move out of the way as they haul their giant mobile X-Ray machines. In the background you can hear all the patients using their call-bells, lighting up the ceiling TV screens like Christmas Eve.

You sigh, the usual midday headache creeping up your shoulders.

And yet amidst the normal chaos of Akso General Hospital, Dr. Zayne, your childhood best friend, manages to stop in the middle of it all and smirk. ‘Have you had a break yet?’

Flicking your gloves into the bin outside the patient’s door, you turn towards Zayne who happens to be walking down the hallway. ‘I have not peed since I woke up,’ you grunt, making your way across to the busy nurses station to where an amused Zayne rests his arms upon. You let yourself rest on your side, mirroring him.

If it weren't for the many years you had known the man, you would have been fooled by his cool calm demeanor he wears so well. You scanned him. Neatly gelled hair. Freshly shaved face (he missed a spot right by his left jaw). Baby pink button down peaking through his white coat. Polished black shoes matching his pressed pants. And yet you can also note the tick of his jaw. The soft crease between his brows. The faint shadows under his eyes. Zayne was equally as tired. You chuckled, only 3 more hours until the shift ends.

‘I heard the cafeteria is now serving apple pie,’ you offer.

His dark brow quirks up, ‘Since when did you show interest in apple pie?’ he shakes his head, dark hair covering his gaze, ‘Definitely not an appropriate lunch.’

You lean further into your arm, your hand keeping your head upright. ‘I’m sure a certain Colonel would disagree.’

Zayn turned rigid. Right. Caleb.

The DAA Colonel was scheduled to return tomorrow morning. Much to your excitement, the older childhood friend couldn’t help but sense something was off. It was simple. You and Caleb would play while Zayne would watch from afar. And when the sun had set at the playground, Zayne would be the responsible one to walk you home whilst Caleb stayed and played with the other neighbourhood kids. Always measured and always cautious, the childhood dynamic between the three of you remained unchanged even with the other’s disappearance. After high school graduation, the three of you promised to stay in touch no matter what. Even if that meant for Caleb to leave Linkon to join the DAA, leaving you and Zayne behind.

You had hoped for your friend’s return. But hope can be a fickle thing.

-

Caleb’s eyes were fixated on the small red box. Your hands were clasped around it so tightly, your breath caught in your chest. This was a mistake. A nervous laugh bubbled through your throat as you quickly drew the box behind your back, ‘It’s a stupid present!’ you stuttered shaking your head, ‘I just saw it one day shopping with grandma and-’

His lilac gaze darkened as he quickly snatched the box out of your hands.

“Hey!’

Using his height to his advantage Caleb turns his back towards you as he quickly rips open the box again and plucks out the necklace. ‘When you come back…’ he reads, holding up the dog tag out of your reach and smiling. ‘You’re really going to miss me, Pipsqueak?’

You huff as he continues to turn away from your reach, laughing at your poor attempts of swatting the silver chain out of his large grasp. ‘It’s not my fault you chose to become a stupid pilot instead of going to med school like Zayne!’

The older boy scoffs, turning away from you once more to quickly clasp the chain around his neck. He grins as he tucks the dog tag into his school shirt. Caleb couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten at the mention of the older boy's name. It’s always the same with you. Safe. Responsible. No wonder grandma always wanted Zayne to walk you home after school instead of Caleb. Zayne, your neighbour and best friend. The older upper classmen who always had people gushing about him despite his closed off personality. Personally, it always seemed to annoy Caleb.

But he was good to you, Zayne. Caleb knew that. He saw it every time he walked you home. He saw it when Zayne would drop off boxed lunch for you early in the morning on his way to University. And he knew that he would be able to take care of you whilst he went to the DAA.

But Caleb couldn’t ignore the sting in his eyes at the thought of leaving you for several months. And that's only if things at DAA go smoothly. At worst, Caleb may be gone for a few years before he’s even allowed for a stationed break. But he must go, in order to keep you safe.

‘Why don’t you go to medical school if you admire Zayne so much?’ he teases.

You stop attempting to take off Caleb’s necklace and blink up at him. The cotton blouse of your school uniform is dampened with sweat from the summer air. A soft cool breeze threaded through the leaves of the large tree you stood under, cooling your exposed neck under your ponytail. A mix of frustration and embarrassment reddens your cheeks, ‘Maybe I will.’

Caleb stares down at you. He had gotten taller over the Summer. A whole head taller and then some. Graduation was always bittersweet, and to be honest Caleb couldn’t care less for all the other classmates waiting to give him a parting present as well. After the graduation ceremony he found himself at the back court, trying to get some air before all the other students rushed out to celebrate. He wasn’t oblivious to his popularity. He knew from the stares he would get from other girls and glares from his basketball team. But it never mattered.

All he could focus on was you, standing under the big crabapple tree, small red box in hand waiting to give you a farewell gift. His best friend, who for some reason was always a little something more to him.

Caleb bit his pride aside and took in a deep breath. He stepped forward which made you instinctively step back. The treebark was rough against your skin. Your feet planted between the thick roots of the tree. ‘Stay out of trouble Pipsqueak,’ he murmured, reaching forward. He leant forward, bracing himself with one hand against the tree. The other hand reached under his shirt, thumb pulling out the silver chain. The small apple pendant dangled above your eyeline. The engraved words on the dog tag stared down at you.

‘I’ll come back home before you know it.’

-

Zayne was always gentle with you.

Despite him being your senior, Zayne had never let you feel small. In fact, he was the opposite. Any chance he got, Zayne had made sure you felt confident and empowered and supported. Even through nursing school with late night studying and long days working at the convenience store to pay for school- Zayne was there to help. Handwritten flash cards. Homemade lunch boxes. He was there.

And when Caleb stopped responding to your letters and emails, Zayne was there as well.

He can admit, the younger boy was trouble. But he also saw how much he cared for you. After all, you were so excited to give him his graduation present that you decided to ask Zayne for his opinion. ‘Do you think he’ll like it?’ you bit into your nails. Zayne would try not to roll his eyes and shrug his shoulders, ‘He would be an ungrateful idiot if not.’

After all, you were always looking out for them both. Even when Zayne had questioned your motives to become a nurse, you simply responded, ‘It’s so I can help others no matter what,’ you shrugged, ‘And so I can see you often and help Caleb if he ever gets injured.’

It came so easily to you, helping others. It was the biggest thing Zayne admired about you. However it was also your biggest weakness, wearing your heart on your sleeve. His biggest worry was how easy it would be to break your heart.

And so it was Zayne’s personal mission to ensure that no one would break your heart. Because at the end of the day, you were his best friend and he was looking out for you. He would take care of you no matter what.

Which is how you ended up in the abandoned storage room at the bottom of Asko Hospital. With Zayne, taking care of you.

‘A-Ah, Zayne hurry up,’ you whine.

His kisses were more rough today. Something you noted as soon as he had pushed you through the storage room doors. He had carelessly slammed his swipecard against the door lock, pressing his mouth against your neck as he closed the door shut behind you. Peeling off his coat and swipecard, he dropped everything onto the floor one by one.

You turn around to meet his soft lips, pressing yours against them. His tongue made no mistake in entering your mouth swiftly, softly entangling with yours. He smelled of coffee and laundry detergent as he pushed you against one of the metal shelves. His large hands made work to the back of your head, one hand firm at the back of your neck as the other took off the claw clip of your ponytail. Your hair fell around your shoulders as your hands tugged at his waist.

‘Does this count as a lunch break?’

Zayne grunted, taking his glasses off and placing them on the shelf behind you as he brushed your hair over your shoulder. He hummed as he pressed open mouth kisses along your collar bone and you sighed in bliss as your head fell back. This is how it was. It was a mutual decision. Working at a busy hospital meant a lot of stress and frustration would pent up so quickly and easily. It was only logical to find an equally quick and easy release.

Whose idea it was, you cannot remember.

‘You’re so hard already,’ you sigh as your hand feels up the front of Zayne’s pants. He chuckled as he brought a hand forward to cup your breast. Through your thin scrubs he could feel your nipple pebble and harden under your bralette. ‘Could say the same for you.’

You huff and make quick work of his belt buckle and Zayne lets you as you pull down the zipper and drop his slacks around his thick thighs. You groan at the sight of the tent in his black briefs. Lifting your arms up, Zayne swiftly pulls your scrub top over your head and throws it into the corner. He smirks at the sight of your heaving chest. ‘Eager?’ he teases.

‘Whatever,’ you grumble as you tug him forward with his necktie. His mouth was on yours once again. His kisses tasted divine. Not that you had much to compare to. Your mouth only knew Zayne’s. And Caleb.

But that was neither here nor there. And where you are now, wrapped in the strong arms of your favourite doctor, was where you wanted, needed to be.

You bury the thought of anyone else and let yourself fall drunk off his kisses. Pushing your front flush against him, he moans at the contact. Indeed, he was very hard.

‘Do you think you can take an extra fifteen for your lunch break?’ you murmur, mouth getting swollen from Zayne’s tender bites.

Not bothering to respond, Zayne tugs the bottom of your scrubs down enough to expose your pink striped panties. His hand cups the front of your pussy and lets out a short breath. ‘You’re so fucking wet.’ His fingers don’t take time to slip under the soaked cotton and glide themselves over your slick. ‘Is this how you walk around all day?’ he grunts, ‘Wet and waiting for me to take you?’

Your head falls onto Zayne’s shoulder, mouth agape. Your hips buck and grind against his palm, begging for more than just his teasing fingertips.

‘If it weren’t for you walking around like that,’ he buries his nose into the crook of your neck. His hot breath fanning your ear and you shudder. ‘I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything all day,’ he confesses, ‘Do you know how dangerous that would be for me, love? I am the most respected cardiac surgeon in all of Linkon and the sight of you reduces me to nothing.’

His fingers gently caress your swollen clit, massaging them ever so slowly. You can feel yourself getting more wet, practically soaking yourself into his palm. Zayne presses his lips against the sensitive spot of your neck, ‘So fucking wet just for me.’

You whine as your hand blindly reaches for his cock. You can’t take this anymore. You needed more. And today, for no particular reason, seems to have you both riled and wanting more. ‘P-please Zayne, I-I can’t take it.’

He chuckled, his fingers gliding down and slipping inside of you. ‘You can take it,’ he reassured, ‘You can take all of me just like you have been all these months.’

-

Caleb was coming home tomorrow.

That was what you had told yourself over and over again since you had woken up. You thought about him in the shower. While you were attending a patient’s wound dressing. While you ate lunch after your quickie with Zayne. And even now, laying in bed your eyes bore into the ceiling. Caleb was coming home tomorrow. Your head turned to your bedside alarm and sighed. Sleep won’t come easy tonight. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.

You thought of Zayne. He was different today and you couldn’t pinpoint why. It was nothing out of the ordinary for you two to have sex. In fact, you almost had it scheduled every week. It was a mutual companionship you both had expressed was purely physical and even productive. As you shed away all the stresses of work and the world, you were able to relax in the comfort of convenience in one of your oldest friends’ arms.

And yet there was something about him today that was foreign. In the way he kept you close to him. Visiting you on the ward in the middle of the shift. Asking if you had lunch even though you normally skipped it in return for finishing work early. And how he had kissed you after you had come around his cock, mouth hard and earnest against you.

Your eyes remain closed, pictures of Zayne’s hot body pressed against yours. His hands roaming every inch of your skin. You bit down on your lip. Mindlessly, you let your hands start to feel up your body. The soft silky nightgown (a humorous birthday gift from Zayne last year) falling off your shoulder and exposing one of your breasts. You let out a soft sigh as you palm and pinch at your nipples.

‘Am I interrupting something?’

Fuck.

You could have swore you were dreaming at the sound of his voice. Eyes wide open you sit up, linen pooling around your waist as your eyes directly meet Caleb’s.

Mouth agape, like a fish out of water, you stare at him. Caleb. He stood by the doorframe of your bedroom, body leaning against it as one leg crossed over the other. His arms were folded and a smirk spread across his pink lips. It took you a moment to register who was standing before you. ‘Caleb?’

If Caleb grew a head taller than you after graduation that summer, then he must have grown another foot. His shadow loomed over you. His broad shoulders stretched the thick fabric of his military jacket as he uncrossed his arms and brought his hand up in a mock salute. ‘Nice to see you too Pipsqueak,’ he sings. His violet gaze flickers to your chest and you scramble to pull the sheet up to your chest. But you were too transfixed at the sight of him.

‘So this is how you kept yourself busy while I was gone?’

Pushing off the doorframe he walks into the room slowly. The leather boots and the sound of your breathing filling the bedroom. ‘I thought you were coming back tomorrow.’

Caleb shrugged, ‘I lied.’

He walked around the bed with slow steps. As if with every stomp of his boot, another thought came to his mind. The air around you drew cold and tense. And an air of uncertainty filtered into your bedroom window.

It was late at night. And in this hour, the moonlight painted silver stripes into your room. It shone across your bedsheets and highlighted the violet gaze which never left yours. It was as if the centre of gravity had shifted. And nothing but Caleb’s gaze was holding you down in the bed. You couldn’t even cover yourself, your breast bare to him. You were frozen.

‘I wanted to surprise you. But it looks like you had other things going on.’

You didn’t understand. This was not Caleb. Your Caleb wouldn’t speak the way he is speaking right now. With this air of fear and uncertainty you swallowed down your dry throat. ‘Caleb what happened-’

He stopped at the foot of the bed abruptly and turned to you. ‘One year Pipsqueak.’ he snarled, reaching forward and gripping the edge of the bedframe. ‘I was gone for one year and you had the nerve to go and fuck Zayne? Out of all fucking people?’

You were stunned.

Caleb let out a laugh you could only decipher as mockery. ‘You even went ahead and became a nurse for him! Just like I thought you would,’ he laughed. He took off his hat and your chest heaved as you fully took in his face. Pieces of short dark locks fell above his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair. He placed his hat on your bed. The leather gloves tighten its grip against the wooden bedframe.

‘H-How did you know?’

There was no point denying it at this point. But if the man in front of you was truly Caleb, then you had to know how he came to know the secret arrangement you had with Zayne this whole time he was at the DAA.

Caleb snickered, ‘I always knew Pipsqueak.’

He pushed himself off the bedframe and made his way around to the side of the bed. There he stood over you, his shadow eclipsing the moonlight seeping from the window. In the dark, his violet eyes were shining with a sinister glint. He grinned, ‘It was just a matter of what I would do when I came home.’

You felt powerless. Your eyes couldn’t believe that Caleb was here. After a year of mourning his presence, missing him, the Caleb that returned was unrecognisable. Caleb smirked at your face. He could tell you were afraid. It excited him. It excited him even more to see how unfazed you were having your chest so exposed to him. His tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. ‘How long have you been fucking him?’

Your eyes narrowed, ‘I thought you knew everything, Colonel.’

Caleb quickly brought his hand under your chin, the leather of his glove pressing into your skin. He jerks your head closer to him as he leans in, ‘I want you to admit how much of a slut you are.’

‘You couldn’t even wait for me, Pipsqueak,’ he feigned sorrow, ‘You just had to jump onto the next guy that offered you cock.’

You scoffed and tried to pull away from his grasp. But Caleb held onto you tightly, his thumb pinching your chin tightly, ‘Caleb you’re hurting me-’

‘How long?’ he presses.

Your skin was on fire with the intensity of Caleb’s gaze searing into you.

‘Since I started working at Akso.’

He pulled you closer, you could smell him. Smoke and citrus. His lips were almost brushing against yours, his long lashes brushing your cheek as he turned to whisper into your ear. ‘You know you belong to me.’

You shuddered at his words and swallowed.

At this point your breasts were aching, begging to be touched. And the absolute terror Caleb reigned over you had all the more brought out the tingling sensation of your arousal.

He drew only a breath back, his grasp on your chin loosening only a fraction as his eyes stared into yours. Caleb smirked as he feels you practically lean further into his touch. ‘Well?’ he asked, cocking his head to the side in feigned interest, ‘Say it.’

A flash of confusion crosses your eyes before you blink away at his request. ‘What?’

Caleb brings a knee onto the bed, sinking into the soft mattress. He tilts your head up, ‘Say you belong to me.’

A silver shine catches your eyes and your lips part. There, tucked away under the collar of his fleetspace uniform, lay the familiar silver chain. Caleb watches your gaze flicker back to his, and notices the wet shine in your eyes.

When U Come Back.

‘I’m yours, Caleb,’ you choke out, tears threatening to slip against the burning of your cheeks,’I belong to you.’

His mouth crashes into yours almost violently as he pushes you back down into the bed. You land with a soft thud, his gloved hand catching the back of your head as he grasps a fist full of your hair.

A grunt escapes your lips and you gasp as Caleb slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes as good as he smells as he wedges a muscled thigh between your legs. You try to shake the thought that this man on top of you was the same sweet boy who had always played with you at school. The same boy that held your backpack when it was too heavy. The same one that would tie your shoelaces.

The loud crash of boots disappear in the background as Caleb kicks them off and turns your head to the side. He wastes no time in running his other hand up your side as he presses sloppy wet kisses down your throat. ‘You grew into such a pretty slut,’ he teased as he massaged into your side, ‘Do you wear these things every night hoping someone would find you?’

At this point your panting and Caleb chuckles at the sight. He’s proud to see such a reaction out of you. Flushed cheeks. Hair tousled and sticking to your forehead. Your lips parted and almost dry from all the airy breaths.

His nose brushes against your skin as he kisses his way down to your chest, ‘Or were you wearing this knowing I would be knocking on your door in the morning, Pipsqueak?’

Balling your fists, you held onto the sheets tightly. Cocky bastard. Your knees closed in one another, locking Caleb into place. Your eyes darted to him and you sneered, ‘Maybe I was expecting a certain doctor instead.’

The growl erupted from Caleb was carnal. You watched in a trance as he licked a stripe down the fold of your cleavage. ‘Shut the fuck up.’

Your laughter was cut short when Caleb took your breast into his mouth. He sucks roughly at your nipple, grazing at it with his teeth. He hums in approval when you let out a gutteral groan, ‘Fuck.’

His other hand lets go of your head and reaches towards your throat. In a firm grasp, he holds you down as he continues to lap at your tits. ‘That’s right baby,’ he released your nipple with a soft ‘pop’ before kissing his way to the other. He draws a circle with his tongue around the hardened bud before taking it between his teeth. ‘Your tits are so fucking perfect.’

If Zayne was gentle, then Caleb was brutal.

If Zayne was considerate, then Caleb was selfish.

If Zayne was your comfort, then Caleb was your undoing.

You were squirming and your pussy was throbbing beneath your nightgown. And, unknowing to the man hovering above you, you were completely exposed. After all you lived alone, why wear underwear around the house? Saves on laundry.

As if he can scent you, Caleb pulls himself up and cages you under him. He rips off his gloves and jacket, leaving him in his white slacks and button down. His black tie dangles in your face as he leans down. ‘I can smell how fucking wet you are Pipsqueak,’ he muses. He palms his hard cock under his pants, begging for release. But he remains measured, composed. ‘Let me fuck you and I’ll make sure you never need to touch anyone else but me again.’

His words were seeping into your bones as his deep breaths masked his self restraint. You can feel the sheets curl beneath you as he fists the linen in earnest. With heavy lids you avert your gaze, the boldness of his attitude pinning you down. ‘But Zayne is so good to me…’

It was a mistake to even think of another man whilst Caleb practically hunted you down. At the sound of another man’s name, your childhood best friend snarled as he pulled down his pants swiftly.

Holy shit.

He was huge, even in his large grasp. You watch with mouth agape as Caleb lazily fisted his cock above you. His brows furrowed and his violet glare sent shockwaves all over you. He smirked, ‘Zayne might be good to you baby…’

‘But I’m not going to hold back.’

He leant forward once more and you gasp at the hard thickness of Caleb’s cock pressing against your stomach. You groan as he teases the tip of his cock down your navel to the top of your swollen clit. The hardened bud was throbbing and aching and practically begging for any friction. Your hands hold onto the sides of his biceps, the strong corded muscles shifting under his thin shirt.

He chuckled, ‘I’m going to fuck you and you’re going to take everything I’ll give you.’

There was no question in his tone and no room for even doubt before Caleb pushed his hard cock inside you. You let out a yelp at the sheer force of him stretching inside of your pussy. Your fingernails dig into his arms deeper as you moan, ‘Holy shit.’

‘Fucking hell,’ Caleb muttered, drawing his hips back and watching the length of his cock disappear inside of you with a quick snap. The force of his weight moved your body against the bed, the sound of his pelvis meeting yours.

It wasn’t long for you to adjust to him. Your body was practically moulding beneath him, accommodating to every curve and every inch of his hard cock as Caleb begins a brutal pace. ‘Take it for me,’ he muttered, throwing his leather gloves off and finding his hands gripping onto your hips firmly.

The sound was filthy, your wet pussy slobbering all over Caleb’s length as he continuously pulls you into him. You pant and writhe beneath him, ‘Caleb it’s too much-‘

He huffed as he continued to fuck you harder, ‘No it’s not enough,’ he decided. Your eyes were watery at the overwhelming sensation of his touch. There was no time for you to even register him flipping you over to your stomach.

You whine at the sudden loss of him pulling out of you.‘See?’ he sneered, pushing you down and lifting your hips up. His large hands, calloused and rough compared to Zayne’s, kneaded into the soft flesh of your ass. Caleb hums as he palms your soft skin before delivering a loud slap onto you.

‘Ah! Caleb!’

You shudder with each delivering blow, your back arched as your moans muffle through your pillow. Your fingers gripped onto the sheets as the stinging heat of your skin continued.

You can hear the sound of buttons popping and a soft thud onto the ground as Caleb strips himself off from his clothes. Your cheeks reddened at the thought of him naked before you, dressed in nothing but a skimpy silk nightgown.

Caleb reaches for you, grabs a fistful of your hair and jerks your head up. Before you could protest, he stuffs his fingers into your mouth and shoves the black cloth of his tie into it. The sound of your surprise is muffled and gagged.

‘Now I wouldn’t have to hear you say any other name again.’

He wastes no time in pushing himself back into you. The thick head of his cock parting the soaking folds of your pussy before practically sucking him in. Caleb moans, his grip on your ass tightening as he stills inside of you. ‘Fuck,’ he laughs, ‘You’re pussy is so fucking tight.’

He snaps into you, ass in the air as his hips meet yours. You fall back into the mattress, hands bracing before you as your muffled moans fill the room.

‘Isn’t this what you wanted?’ Caleb asks as he pounds into you, pace relentless, ‘Your pussy was practically calling my name the minute I stepped into your apartment.’

His cock throbbed inside of you, penetrating your walls in an unforgiving manner. He was so thick and long and fuck you wanted to come so badly.

Caleb leans forward, wrapping an arm around your waist before pulling you up. Your back is flush against him and the hard muscles of his stomach heave behind you. He fucks up into you, the new angle giving him an even deeper access. His other hand reaches around to your bundle of nerves. ‘This clit is mine,’ he whispers in your ear. The sight of his tie balled up into your mouth turned him on so much. In fact, the sight of you completely reduced to nothing but a cock drunk slut gave him such euphoria.

‘Do you even know how much I missed you?’ he seethed, his fingertips circling your clit as he continued to pound into you. His hips jerking forward with so much intensity you were practically bouncing in the air.

You cry as Caleb’s cock presses itself into your G-spot. The massage of his thick bulbous tip grinding against you was enough to have you standing just by the edge.

Caleb slowed his pace just a fraction as if he could sense how close you were. His hands disappeared from your clit much to your protest. Pushing you off from him, Caleb flipped you back onto your back.

Pulling the gag out of your mouth, Caleb’s eyes were clouded full of lust and desire as you wet your lips. ‘I missed you,’ you return, panting and gasping for air.

Delight flickered in his eyes as Caleb pushing your thighs back towards your chest. He held your thighs there as he lined himself up to your entrance. ‘Fucking liar,’ he chuckled before spitting onto your clit. You moan and swear as the dollop of spit glides down your folds.

‘If you really missed me you would have saved yourself for me.’

He grabs his cock in a tight fist, his other hand holding you open before him. He teases the tip of his cock, covering it in the mixture of your slick and his saliva.

‘Please Caleb,’ you beg.

The sound was glorious. This was all he ever wanted. He didn’t care about anything else. All he wanted was you. And seeing you beneath him, practically a body full of lust and heat and want. It was driving him crazy. He would almost forgive you for what you have done. The betrayal you have committed.

‘Please, please-‘

Caleb fucks you like never before. He enters so smoothly before holding onto your thighs and pounding into you mercilessly. You moan his name over and over again. Caleb grunts in approval, the sight of your tits bouncing sending him over the edge.

‘Your pussy is mine,’ he declares.

You nod in a dazed state, ‘It’s yours.’

His thrusts drove deeper, bottoming out so his balls were flush against you. You let out a long whine, hands clutching onto your tits. You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t think of anything else but Caleb fucking you so good. Your fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, palming and kneading your soft breasts.

‘That’s right baby,’ Caleb sighs at the sight, drinking you in. ‘Play with your tits as I fuck into you.’

His words turned you on so much. The filthy sounds of you fucking and his degrading tone left you feeling an incredible high. You knew you were close.

‘I’m going to come inside of you and you’re going to take it for me. You’re going to be a good girl for once and fucking take it.’

You nod. At this point you were agreeable to anything as long as Caleb continued to fuck you. You chew onto your bottom lip, eyes rolling back at the feeling of his cock continuously hitting that delicious spot.

‘That’s it baby,’ he moans, ‘Fuck you look so good taking my cock like that.’

Your mouth was dry as you stare into him. His foggy gaze was determined and shadowed with an almost animalistic lust. Your hands cup your breasts as you continue to bounce off him.

Fuck, he was going to come. The sight of you was too much. And at the edge of his unraveling, you leaned forward and pressed your mouth onto his. Your tongue lapped at his bottom lip before sinking your teeth into his flesh. Sucking at his lip, you moaned as his silver necklace pressed against your breast.

His kiss was hot and reckless. Losing all sense of control, you feel your own unraveling come before you. Letting out a long whine your pussy clenches around Caleb’s cock as you feel yourself coming over him. It was too much. All too much. The intense pull of your pussy and the taste of your tongue and the smell of you hair was driving Caleb closer and closer to the point of no return.

‘That’s right, come around my cock,’ he shuddered, ‘Show me how good my cock makes your pussy feel.’

His handprints were branding marks on your skin as Caleb delivers his final crushing thrusts into your pussy, claiming all that you could give to him. A wave of pleasure crashed into him as Caleb’s pace faltered. ‘Fuck!’

Hot white ropes of Caleb’s come seeps into you as he continues to fuck into your pussy. You moan his name several times, wrapping your arms around his neck. Caleb brings his arms around you, holding you above him as you grind onto his cock milking his come out of him.

‘Don’t stop fucking moving,’ he commanded, panting into your ear as you grind against him.

You moan loudly as you lazily roll your hips against him, chasing your high as your legs wrapped around his waist with Caleb sat on his knees under you. Your clit, swollen and tortured, rubs against his groin as you feel his come fill you up entirely.

Your hands run through his hair, sweaty and ruffled as you stare into his half-lidded gaze. His eyes flickered to your tongue as it sweeps over your swollen bottom lip. Caleb leans in to kiss you. This time it was more gentle, more soft. Almost tender.

You both take a moment to catch your breaths. Limbs still tangled and entwined, you remain still together in the bed. His cock was still warm inside of you. You didn’t care to move.

You sniffle at the sight of him. ‘How long are you here for?’ you whisper.

In the darkest of hour in the night, despite your loud rendezvous moments ago, your question was quiet and filled with fear and anxiety. Caleb is back. And you don’t think you could ever see him leave again.

Caleb offers you a small smile, arms wrapping around your waist again as you push back his hair from his sweaty forehead. ‘I’ll be here for as long as you need me to be, Pipsqueak,’ he teased. You grunt and slap his chest to which he burst into laughter. The tension in your shoulders lifting at the sound.

Caleb grins and a mischievous glint flashes in his eyes as he brings his hand to cup the back of your neck. Pulling you down, his forehead presses against yours.

‘I came back for you, Pipsqueak.’

Your breath hitches as you can feel Caleb’s cock growing hard again inside of you. His other hand resting on the side of your thigh, his thumb massaging soft circles into your hot skin. The fire in your chest reignites at the carnal desire growing back in his violet eyes.

‘I won’t be leaving anytime soon.’

[https-capri]

this was so good i was so immersed in this omg

[windser]

you ask caleb to teach you how to kiss, he can’t pass up the opportunity to be your first and only

obsessssed with caleb. most of what i write fits into the ex bf caleb verse. where this drabble is pre-dating

you went to him for advice because you liked someone else. that alone was enough to make caleb’s chest tighten, a hot coil of jealousy wrapping itself around his ribcage. still, he kept his face calm, smiling in that soft, understanding way he always did.

"you want me to teach you how to kiss?" he murmured, his voice low, his fingers tightening ever so slightly around the edge of the couch. the words felt like a cruel joke to him—a request that should have hurt, but instead sent a thrill rushing down his spine. his lips twitched as he glanced at you, his dark eyes catching the flicker of nervousness in yours. god’s gift, he thought. that’s what this was.

because, really, hadn’t he always been the one looking out for you? protecting you? keeping you safe? who else could possibly deserve this moment, this first, if not him?

"come here," he said softly, his tone coaxing, the way you’d call a frightened bird to perch on your hand. he moved closer, bridging the distance between you before you even had time to think. his hand found your wrist, gentle but firm, tugging you just close enough that he could lean in. "i’ll show you," he said, his breath ghosting against your cheek.

and then he kissed you.

not softly—not like someone who was hesitant or unsure. caleb kissed you with the kind of intensity that left no space for doubt. his lips moved against yours like they’d been made for this, for you, and when he pulled back just far enough to speak, his voice was thick, trembling just slightly. "that," he whispered, his forehead brushing yours, "is how someone who loves you kisses you."

he didn’t stop there, of course. caleb wasn’t the kind to stop once he’d started. his fingers slid up to your hair, threading through it slowly, deliberately, as though you might disappear if he let you go. "all you have to do is trust me," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "let me take care of you. let me show you how this should feel."

his thumb brushed your cheek as he tilted your face toward him, his lips finding yours again, slower this time, deeper. his free hand settled on your waist, holding you firmly but gently, just enough to guide you where he wanted. "relax," he murmured against your lips, the word almost a command, though his tone was soft enough to make it sound like reassurance. "relax into me. you don’t need to think about anything or anyone else."

and you did. you trusted him, like you always had, letting the warmth of his hands and the steadiness of his embrace melt the hesitation in your chest. caleb felt your surrender—the way your shoulders eased and your lips parted just slightly under his—and it only made him hold you closer, his heart pounding against his ribs like a war drum.

this wasn’t just a kiss to caleb. this was proof—proof that he was right, that no one else could ever understand you, could ever protect you, the way he could. and as the night stretched on, as he kissed you again and again, he told himself it was okay. because it was him. and he loved you. more than anyone else ever could.

[https-capri]

MEOOOWWW I NEED IT I NEED IT UGGHHH

[https-capri]

Do I Wanna Know?

caleb x reader angst

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cw: angst (hurt no comfort), name-calling (ONCE), caleb is a lil ooc bc ik he cray cray for mc but not today! lower case on purpose

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it had been years since you had seen him, years that you took to grieve him and heal. now, your (what seemed like) long forgotten childhood best friend was standing before you. a cold, unfamiliar gaze presented itself to you, and you couldn't help but feel uneasy, even unsure that this was truly caleb and surely not the same boy you'd remembered.

"caleb.. it can't be, is it really you?"

a slow, thoughtful nod is the only response you get, seeing his eyes filled with guilt and an unfamiliar emotion. you rush into his embrace eagerly, hugging him tightly as if he were to disappear again.

unsure if it was due to shock or the fleets training, you're only met with a hand being placed on the small of your back in return. it feels like a small piece of your heart shattered, despite having grieved someone who never died, the version of them you knew did.

your mind races, flooded with too many emotions to manage.

"what happened to you?" the question comes out angered, despite your voice having cracked whilst on the brink of sobbing.

he rubs the back of his neck, his eyes scanning yours. "i joined the fleet, i had nowhere else to go" he states simply, seemingly having skipped over the entire incident that left you shattered.

"you left me, caleb. i grieved you because i thought you were gone." you seethe, knowing the angry facade on your face was wearing thin, just happy that he was back.. despite being a different caleb than who you remembered.

"well i'm back now, aren't i? ...what good is it to still be upset" he retorts, almost uninterested in the both of you being reunited.

"besides, we'll have to go our separate ways again soon enough."

it feels like the breath is being pulled from out of your lungs, why is he not happy to see me? what did they do to him?

"do you just not care that we finally get to see eachother again?" a single tear rolls down your cheek, feeling the walls cracking.

he scoffs.

"hey- pipsqueak, i had to grieve you too, and grandma. i just.. learned to live a life without you"

he finally admits it. slowly, which didn't help the pain, but at least he confessed.

he had moved on

his nickname didn't comfort you the way it used to, instead feeling like someone had poured sand into your lungs.

"gege.."

you whisper, hardly audible as your brain racks the reasons he could've turned so cruel.

"don't you love me?"

a pained look grazes his face, only for a quarter of a second. taking its place is a look of pity, which doesn't make you feel better at all.

the words leave your lips like vomit, unable to stop them despite trying to bite your tongue for the better good.

"i.." his lips purse, looking for an answer.

daringly, you near closer to him, hoping to any godly being above that you could bring the old caleb back and- save him.

"i love you, caleb. can't you see that?" you admit, the confession being distorted through soft cries and sniffles.

he looks away, his face red. he looks uncomfortable.

"i have someone." he finally blurts out.

it feels like a gunshot. ever since you two were kids you had always planned a future with eachother in it. pinky promises late at night, warm breaths blowing dandelions into the summer breeze, wishes on eyelashes, all to be with him in the future.

you gritted your teeth, biting back any kind of pathetic response. you lower your head, a soft, almost hesitant nod because you didn't want to accept that.

you felt like one of his fan girls back in high school, wondering if this is how they felt when he'd politely reject them. and also wondering if the other girls he's with now is getting the same treatment you used to.

the air felt tense, and awkward. there was nothing you could've said in that moment to have the ending you'd always hoped for.

sucking in a stiff inhale through clenched teeth, your gaze meets his once more.

"well, i hope you both are happy" you lie, speaking with a weak, guilty tone.

you had hoped this would be the turning point, that part where caleb reaches out and changes his mind, knowing that you're the one he wants, the only one there's ever been.

you can see him shaking his head from your side view, slowly turning to leave this godforsaken room. it's like you're subconsciously giving him the time to make a decision you knew wasn't going to happen.

"goodbye" you say flatly, hand gripping the doorknob with more pressure than intended, knowing that when you leave this room, closing the door behind you- that you're not only leaving this place for good, but caleb along with it.

"bye" he calls out, no motive to stop you from leaving.

@erensfeed @sxlfcxst

[https-capri]

y'all i have it BAD for caleb rn but my brain can't help but brew up this EVVILLL EVIILL angst and i HAVE to write it. no comfort bc i hate happiness?! finally gonna write again OMG SO EXCITED SQEEESSEHGH \(^ヮ^)/