I Love You More Than You Know [Caleb X Fem!Reader 18+]
CW: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, smut, dubcon, dubious morality, training, incest, praise, rough to soft sex, abandonment issues, angst, grinding, cunnilingus, oral sex, inappropriate use of EVOL -- DO NOT READ IT IF YOU'RE NOT INTO DEAD DOVE FICS. You've been warned.
Summary: Big bro Caleb's a big meanie in bed and he uses his evol on his cute little sister!
WC: 1257 words.
“Oh fuck, baby… just like that.”
Caleb’s eyes rolled back as he groaned, his voice was husky and rough against your ear as he pressed the tip of your cock against your folds—the fabric of your cute little panties damp and clinging to you. He could see the outline of his cock through the thin material that was glistening more and more with each rut of his hips. He wanted to rip the fabric away—to bury himself deep inside of you and to feel your cunny clench around him. Caleb closed his eyes as his breath hitched. He smeared his pre-cum against your cunny as his fat tip caught onto your entrance as he gripped your hips and dug his fingers into your soft flesh, bending you over as he kept grinding against you.
There was something so hot about all of this—something that turned Caleb on so much… but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly that made his tip leak so much. Was it how you were so pliant under him while he was bending you in half? Or was it the fact that you were letting out the sweetest mewls while your face was flushed—all wet and ready for him?
Or was it because even after all these years of fucking you—training his dear little sister’s cunny to take each and every inch of him, training you to seek that pleasure high, and teaching you to depend on him and him only to get you off and getting wet to the sight of them—that he’s finally made the perfect cockslut for him.
—-
It definitely wasn’t easy at first, you were so young and innocent—he had to plan it al out perfectly so that you were addicted to him at first touch; so much so that you would need him like your body depended on it to live.
Caleb was so gente, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, making sure that it was both intimate and light, making you giggle with each soft kiss that he pressed upon your skin. He wanted to make it so that your giggles turned into begging—begging him to touch you so that it would just be your big brother Caleb doing you a favor. He was just making you feel good, so why would he ever get into trouble if he was just helping his sweet little sister out, right?
If only you saw through your fluttering eyes—the smirk on Caleb’s face the first time he kissed your cunny; how you let out the prettiest whimper; your hips subconsciously bucking up to meet his lips—that’s when he knew he had you hooked.
Caleb hummed against your clit, “Mmm, that feels good, right?” He chuckled as he felt another roll of your hips against his lips as he continued, “Such a good girl… yeah? Your big brother’ll make you feel so good… Just promise not to tell anyone, okay? They’ll be jealous of us and won’t let up play anymore, and you don’t want that, right?”
Before you could even shake your head no, Caleb reeled it in even more as he hooked your thighs tighter around his neck. Caleb alternated between flattening his tongue and flicking it against your clit as he lapped at your sopping wet pussy like a starving man that hasn’t eaten in days. He knew he won when he heard your innocent breathy whines… whines that promised him that you wouldn’t tell anyone and how you wanted to feel whatever pleasure he made you feel even more.
—
“Mmfh.. Please, ah-please, Caleb… wan-” You let out desperate whines as you tried lifting your hips up so that Caleb’s cock could finally sink into your ready pussy after sooo long of him just fucking his cock between your lips. But unfortunately, it was futile because your big bro Caleb was just so big and strong that he held you bent in half, not letting you do anything.
Caleb let out an ‘aw’ as he tapped his cockhead against your clit, letting out an amused huff as he mocked you, “‘Wan?’ C’mon, use your big girl words. ‘m not givin’ you what you ‘wan’ unless you tell me it.”
He was always like this—so mean to you whenever you two were in bed. Sometimes it made you question what happened to the Caleb outside of bed. Caleb would always spoil you with whatever you want, so why was it that he was always so, so mean at times like these?!
“Caleb! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I don’t need you to get me off y’know?” You whined as you tried batting at Caleb’s arm, until you couldn’t.
You shouldn’t have said that.
Not at all.
Caleb suddenly used his evol to keep you exactly in the position he wanted you in; legs stuck on top of his shoulders with your arms stuck on top of the bed, unable to lift anything up. There was a shift in Caleb’s eyes—one that you’ve barely seen fully; it was a look that told you that you probably should’ve listened to him and told him what you wanted instead of resorting to being childish… but you couldn’t help it. You were hot and needy and he should’ve been a good big brother and given you what he’s always given you. His cock.
But unfortunately for you, the words have already left your lips, and all the air was knocked out of your lungs as Caleb sunk his cock sharply into your cunny. You wanted him deep inside of you, right? And that’s what you got. His pace was relentless as he thrusted deeply as he closed his eyes, letting out quiet grunts as he just concentrated on fucking you.
He was too deep into his mind to even enjoy the moans and the feeling of you wrapped around him. He hated what you said—truly. The thought of you hating him… the thought of you not needing him anymore… It terrified him. He couldn’t imagine life without his dear little sister, and the thought of you needing someone else—replacing him with someone else—Caleb gritted his teeth as he thrusted harder into you.
Caleb desperately smashed his lips against yours, murmuring against your lips as his balls slapped your ass, “You don’t mean that, right? That you hate me and that you don’t need me?”
Anyone in the world would see Caleb’s questions as something someone would ask before the other would get punished in bed, but you knew otherwise, even though you were completely blissed out, unable to say anything other than to shake your head from side to side, signalling to Caleb that your answer was a no. You loved your big brother a lot and knew that this was a moment of vulnerability. A side that only you got the privilege to see, and you weren’t about to ruin what the two of you had just because you were joking.
Caleb visibly relaxed once he got confirmation that you weren’t serious. He thrusted his hips faster as he was finally able to focus on the pleasure that you gave him. His desperate kiss turned soft and he gently caressed your lips with his tongue, his hips stilling as he came deep inside of your cunny. You needed him just as much as he needed you, and he would do anything for you.
Anything at all.
“I love you more than you know.”
A/N: First dead dove fic :3 Anyways, it's been a longgg long time since I've posted a fanfic, and I just had to go all out, really. Life's been busy, but I hope you all are doing well <3. Feel free to follow my twitter if you'd like if you wanna be moots!
You lost count somewhere around the fourth orgasm -or maybe the fifth- when your brain stopped processing anything beyond the relentless slap of his hips against your ass and the obscene squelch of his cum being fucked deeper into your abused cunt with every brutal thrust.
“One more,” he'd gasped after the second round, cock still hard inside you despite just spilling enough cum to drip down your thighs, “Just one more, Pips, I need- I need-“
And you let him. Of course you let him. Because it's Caleb, and he's been gone for three weeks this time, three weeks of nothing but staticky video calls and lonely text messages... And the way he's looking at you right now -unhinged, eyes blown black with pathetic need- makes you feel like you could ruin him with a single word. Like every cell in his body has been rewired to orbit yours, and three weeks apart nearly killed him.
But one more became two more, became three, became this- you face down in the pillows, ass raised, legs spread obscenely wide while he mounts you from behind like he's trying to crawl inside your skin and never leave.
“Caleb-“ Your voice is shot to hell, hoarse from screaming his name, “s'too- c-can't- I can't- m-my legs feel-“
His hand fists in your hair, pulling your head back just enough for his lips to brush your ear- arm wrapped around your waist, holding you in place, “You can take one more for me, can't you, Pipsqueak? One more load in this pretty body?”
You sob into the sheets as he drives impossibly deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. Your womb is already drowning in him- you can feel it, heavy and warm and so thoroughly marked that there's no question of where you belong.
“Gonna -fuck- gonna stuff you so full,” Caleb groans, pace growing erratic. His balls slap against your clit, puffy and beyond sensitive from countless orgasms, and the stimulation makes you scream, “Want you to feel me even when I'm not here.”
“Please-“ You don't even know what you're begging for anymore. Release. Mercy. More.
His hand slides from your hair to your stomach, pressing down on the subtle swell where his cum has filled you so completely that you look almost-
“Right here,” he breathes against your neck, grinding in deep and holding himself there while his palm presses against your lower belly, “This is where I'm gonna put a baby.”
Your orgasm rips through you without warning at his words.
A baby... Caleb's baby.
Your entire body seizes up- and then you're gushing, squirting all over his cock in hot, shameless waves that drench his balls and splatter against his thighs. The wet spllrrtt sounds are absolutely filthy, your release spraying around where he's still buried inside you, soaking the sheets beneath your trembling knees.
“Oh-“ Caleb's composure shatters, “You're- holy-, you're squirting- drenching me just from that...”
Your legs give out entirely but he catches you, arm locking around your waist to hold you in place while he fucks you through the aftershocks. Every thrust sends another weak spray of your release gushing around his cock, the obscene squelching sounds mixing with your broken whimpers.
Caleb chases his own release with short, sharp thrusts that drive his cockhead right against your battered cervix until he hilts himself one final time and grinds.
That's when you feel the pulse of his cock as he empties himself directly into your womb. Rope after rope of hot, thick cum, flooding your insides until you're certain you can't hold any more- but he keeps going, keeps pumping, keeps filling you like his sole purpose in life is to ensure you're bred beyond any shadow of doubt.
When he finally stills, you're both panting.
The room smells like sex and sweat and him, and you can't move. Genuinely cannot move. Your limbs have stopped responding to commands, your muscles reduced to jelly, your cunt still weakly clenching around his softening cock like it's trying to milk out every last drop. The sheets beneath you are absolutely ruined- soaked through with your release and the cum that leaked out despite his best efforts to keep you plugged.
There's no way I'm moving tomorrow. Maybe not even the day after.
Caleb collapses beside you, careful not to crush you with his weight, but he doesn't pull out. Instead, he adjusts your bodies so you're spooned against his chest, his cock plugging you up best he can to keep every drop of cum exactly where he put it.
For a long moment, there's nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing.
Then, so quiet you almost miss it, “Next time I leave on a long mission...” His voice is low, satisfied, “...you won't be alone.”
Your fucked out brain struggles to process his words, “Wh... what?”
His lips brush against the shell of your ear, and you can feel him smiling- but it's softer now, the aggressive edge giving way to something softer, “You'll have a little me here to keep you company.”
A little him.
The thought makes your stuffed cunt clench around his spent cock so hard that he groans.
A baby. His baby. Growing in the womb he just spent hours flooding with his seed.
He wants a family. With me. He wants-
Caleb feels your reaction, and his arms tighten around you- not possessive this time, but protective, “I thought about it the whole time I was gone,” he murmurs, pressing soft kisses along your shoulder, “Every night in the fleet when i couldn't sleep, staring at the stars, I kept thinking... what if she gets lonely? What if she needs me and I'm not there?”
Your throat tightens with unexpected emotion, “Caleb...”
“And then I realized.” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing you in like you're oxygen, “I can leave a piece of myself with you. The best piece. Someone who'll love you just as much as I do.”
You twist in his arms -a grueling effort considering your boneless state- until you're facing him, “You really want this?” you whisper, “A baby?”
“I really want you.” He cups your face- thumb brushing away a tear you didn't realize had fallen, “Forever. In every way I can have you. And yeah-“ a small, almost shy smile tugs at his lips, “-I really want to see you round with my kid. Want to come home to you both. Want to build something that's ours.”
The possessiveness is still there- you can hear it humming beneath his words, feel it in the way his arm keeps you pressed flush against him.
“Okay,” you breathe, and his whole face lights up.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You press your forehead to his, smiling despite your exhaustion, “But you're changing all the diapers when you're home. Since you're so eager to fill me up.”
His laugh is bright and warm, shaking both your bodies, “Deal. Absolutely. I'll change every single one.”
synopsis: you're injured and supposed to be resting but you just can't stop going out. so caleb finds a way to convince you to stay inside to let your injuries heal (it gets freaky).
warnings: porn with plot, use of collars, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pussy slapping, obscene use of hands, cum eating, sloppy wet marathon sex, multiple creampies, manhandling, squirting, spitting, pussydrunk!caleb, cockdrunk!reader, you two are just nasty freaks.
wc: 3,4k
a/n: i'm literally about to cumbust. caleb's got me feral these days. and he will never be beating the panty sniffer allegations!!
MINORS DON'T INTERACT!
You believed it was a joke. Or some one of the many weirdly ominous things Caleb had a habit of saying to get a kick out of you. It must have been.
“What?” You blink, staring at his hands.
“Remember what I told you?” He asked, free hand slowly reaching up your thigh. “About that stray cat.”
You were fresh out the shower, skin still steaming from the heat of the water pelting your back. You have nothing on but a gown, and not one of the fluffy ones either. His eyes had been on you since you left the shower and he hasn’t bothered hiding his blushing.
“The one you put a collar on?” Your brows raise at the memory. He really was worried about that poor kitty. It was all injured and kept trying to run, so Caleb eventually put a collar with a bell on the cat so he’d know if it tried to go and be adventurous again.
Then it clicked. You had a minor injury on your leg from your last mission. A solo mission that was supposed to be an investigation had ended with you fighting at least six Wanderers throughout the night. Caleb made sure your superiors put you on break for at least two weeks (with Zayne’s medical support) to give you time to rest.
But being the stubborn person you are, you always found a way to leave your apartment to Caleb’s agitation. It got so bad that even he had to take leave from the Fleet to keep an eye on you— as if his usual methods didn’t already work.
It all makes sense. The fact that he’s in Linkon, the fact that you’ve been put on sick leave for two weeks, and the fact that he’s been watching you like a hawk especially since you try to go out.
The damn collars in his hands are to make you the cat in this situation.
“Are you serious?” You blink, trying to ignore the growing heat in your core. You couldn’t lie, it was hot.
One of the collars, you presume is yours, has a pretty red bow tied around its bell. The other has a leather leash attached to it. Almost like a leash for a dog.
“I don’t want you running off when you’re still recoverin’.” Caleb’s hand disappear into your silk robe, inching higher and higher up your thighs, just so damn close to your pussy. “And I don’t want you to get worried. So I shouldn’t leave you.”
His lips inch closer to your neck, hot breath ghost over your damn skin. This fucker—
“How about I test a little theory of mine?” The metallic jingles of the collars ring in your ears. His sunset eyes raise to your gaze with that stupidly handsome puppy look he gives you when he gets needy and desperate. “Can I put this collar on you?”
“You’re such a freak.” You hiss, watching his eyes flutter in plain as the fucking sky obviousness. You learned he had a thing for you being a little bit mean. Just a little. And he does everything he can to get on your nerves.
“So are you.” His hand finally reaches your soaking pussy and circles your entrance with a single finger. You deeply inhale feeling your walls clench on air. “Look at you, so wet. I think you want me to collar you up. So I always know where you are.”
Bold of him to talk. You can literally see the growing tent in his pants. He likes it just as much as you do.
His finger slowly dips into your pussy, pumping in and out with deliberate precision. He knows exactly what to do to set you off, turn you on, make you beg. And he is making things extra slow to get to you.
“Caleb.” You attempt to warn but he curls his finger right into that spongy pleasure spot that he knows drives you insane.
“Why would you wanna go out and about when you’re injured, pips?” He asks with concern in his eyes as if he isn’t torturing you with his finger. It’d be better if he put in another or two. Wet squelches travel right up to your ears to add to the injury. What a tease.
Your eyes gloss over with intense need. What a fucking—
“It’s almost like you want me to keep you close,” Another finger finally slips in, stretching you out deliciously. A heavenly moan escapes your lips, not that you were trying to hide it to begin with. “Keep a close eye on you and remind you that you’re better off restin’ here at home.”
His words quickly become white noise just from how his fingers turn you into horny mush. If there’s one thing your boyfriend has mastered, it’s driving you insane with his fingers alone. Now imagine what his cock does.
“Fuck.” You sigh, feeling your back arch to feel his fingers deeper inside you. And like the good boyfriend he is, he gives you exactly what you need— pushing his fingers deeper and deeper until his knuckles nudge your entrance. “And– oh, Caleb- what- what about you?”
“Hm?” His tongue darts out his mouth, deeply concentrated on how your pussy clenches around his fingers as fast as your pulse. The tent on his sweatpants start to darken from his leaking precum.
“There’s two… collars.” You say slowly or else his ministrations would bring you to a stutter. “If the bell one’s for me, what about the one with the leash?”
Caleb’s lips form an ‘o’ shape, eyes following your gaze to the collars in his hand. “That one’s for me. You want me to stay close to take care of you, right? What better way to do that than to make sure I never leave your side?”
Your hand slowly travels down to grip his hardened cock, gently stroking it through the soaked fabric. Your finger danced around his tip just the way he liked it— slow and light, just to rile him up even more. You watch his eyes squeeze shut in a sore attempt to hold back his own lewd noises.
“So if I wear the collar you will too?” Your hand expertly works his cock, squeezing his clothed shaft as you stroked him. Unable to verbally respond, Caleb slowly nods while huffing out soft groans.
That’s how you end up on your back in the bed, legs spread with your boyfriend ruthlessly eating your pussy.
Your room is silent apart from the obnoxiously slick noise of your wet, cum soaked skin being slurped and devoured. Caleb made you cum three times already and it looked like he wasn’t stopping.
“C-Caleb—” Your eyes roll back for the nth time as his lips close around your clit for his tongue to flick back and forth in that delicious pattern. He expertly works your clit, slowly and carefully spelling out his name into your arousal all while curling his fingers deep inside your soaking pussy.
“Caleb— god— please—“ Your pleas fall to deaf ears, mostly because he’s trapped his head between your trembling thighs to suffocate in your grip. You can tell he’s getting off on it based on how he fucks your slick back into with his fingers, how he moans loudly with every slurp, kiss and bite on your skin.
He is so gone and he fucking loves it.
Your collar jingles every time you squirm and twitch, and sings a melody whenever your back arches for him. It’s like a little instrument that accompanies the symphony of moans and whimpers that leave your pretty lips.
He’s so animalistic with it, slobbering and drooling all over you while he slurps you up like one of his protein shakes. The bed’s shaking from how he’s grinding on the mattress to get a kick from all that self induced edging— his main priority, however, is you and that cute pussy that has him on a leash (literally and figuratively).
“Keep drippin’, pips.” He groans into your pussy, pressing hot smooches on your lower lips. “Keep cummin’ on my face. Tug on my damn leash. Fuckin’ love tasting you.”
Your clothes had been long abandoned after the first orgasm he ate you through. You made such a mess that your panties (which he will keep for later) were thrown across your room along with the rest of his clothes.
The way his tongue just effortlessly slides right past your entrance and caresses your walls brings a hoarse cry right out of your kiss-swollen lips. And of course your boyfriend dutifully responds with the sluttiest whine you’ve heard. You tug harder at his leash, overwhelmed by the continuous stimulation from his nose bumping your clit.
It all rushes straight down to his cock, jutting against he mattress. He shakes his head to spread your juices all over his face, wanting to be covered and blessed by your essence. Wanting to lick it right off his face once he was done. To have your scent on his form without having to scramble for it by rubbing your used panties on his face.
Eating your pussy alone was more than enough to make him cum untouched. What makes it even better is your relentless tugging of his leash, continuously pulling his face closer to your weeping cunt. If your moans weren’t enough then your trembling thighs were more than sufficient to keep him going. And he’d be damned to waste the meal you’re serving him on a diamond platter.
“Caleb!” Your cry summons another harsh, intense climax bringing your legs to a violent shake. His grip on your thighs tighten and the slurps and muffled groans get so much louder that you can’t even hear your own moans.
He tilts his head back, finally releasing your legs from his iron grip. Eyes closed, Caleb chuckles as he gulps as much air as his lungs can allow.
“Should’ve had you sit on my face.” He rasps and wipes your juices off of his chin. Almost intuitively, you open your lips awaiting a taste of your juices.
“Fucking freak.” You whimper as he stuffs his fingers in your mouth for you to wipe him clean. Your tongue laps up your yummy essence, ensuring all that remains on his hand is just your saliva.
“Your fucking freak, baby.” He slowly move in and out of your mouth until the tips of his fingers tap the back of your throat making you gag around him. “Your freak that loves eating you good, loves making you feel good, loves making you cum.”
His free hand cups your pussy, feeling your wetness soak his hand like a waterfall. “Look at you. Making such a mess.” He raises his hand and lands a soft smack on your pussy making you jump from the overstimulation. Your bell jingles from the impact. He finally retracts his fingers to lick your spit off his hand, relishing in your taste with a low moan.
“Speak… for yourself.” You huff, eyes darting down to his reddened twitching length. Globs of precum dripped down his thick shaft surrounded with throbbing veins— three to be specific. “Got you all hard from eating me like a good boy.”
Caleb’s eyes flutter shut from the dirty comment. His cock jumped, dripping precum right onto your hot skin. “It’s like you want me to stuff you to remind you what gets your eyes rolling back.”
“All bark, no bite.” You grin, watching his eyes rapidly dilate. “You gonna bark again, baby?”
“Woof.” Damn, that’s fucking hot. You say nothing apart from spreading your legs wider for him. An invitation for him to act on his word. “Humble me then, Colonel. Or maybe I’ll be doing that—“
Your words get swallowed by his lips and tongue engulfing you in a lascivious kiss. Rough and demanding, breaths heavy and endless, Caleb wastes no time aligning his dripping tip with your entrance. He circles around you, slowly stroking up and down, bumping his cockhead with your swollen bud. Your juices spill all over his shaft, making it so much smoother, wetter, lewder. Fuck.
“Stop teasing,” You tug his leash as you moan against his hungry lips. “Put it in, ‘leb.”
“Mm, command me.” He grins. “You want me to fuck you good, yeah? You want this cock all up in you? Want me to stuff you full?”
The stimulation is too good for you to respond, all that can be mustered is a nod. “Use your words, pips.”
Of course.
His finger taps the bell on your collar, ringing out a cute dingle! Teasingly tapping on it, his cock slides up and down your folds, tip occasionally teasing itself right into you before pulling out. You can tell it’s driving him insane too, from how his breath is laboured, how his eyes are slowly but surely rolling back, and most definitely those soft whimpers he’s struggling to hide.
“Please, baby,” You whine, grinding your hips hard against his cock and tugging harsh on his leash. You’re practically drunk on him without even having his girth inside you. “Put in in f’me. Want you to fuck me full. Be good ’n stuff me.”
“Heh,” Caleb huffs, almost choking from how hard you pulled him. He presses his cockhead into your pussy, groaning at how tight you squeeze around him, sucking him in like a vacuum. “Yes ma’am.”
And he slips in smooth like a hand into a glove. Maybe because you’re slick from all the times he made you cum with his mouth. You both tilt your heads back, close to cumming right on the spot. He pauses to catch his breath, the dog tag on his necklace and the leather strap of his leash dangling right over your face.
“Oh, she’s squeezin’ so hard.” He grins, practically drooling from how your pussy sucks him riiiight in.
He rocks in and out of you fast, absorbing the sound of your slick and cum squelching, drenching his cock in your essence. Each thrust takes him deeper and deeper into you until his tip pokes your sensitive gummy spot.
Your little bell jumps with your titties, jingling and ringing with each relentless pounding of his length in you while his heavy sacks smack your skin. It feels so gooood and so fucking lewd that your words are reduced to incoherent mumbles.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Caleb chuckles, dragging his length in and out of your pussy with relentless speed. Even he can’t hold back his deliciously slutty moans from how good you squeeze and tighten around him. His eyes are locked on your collar, glossing over the jingling metal accompanying your moans.
“You like how I’m stuffing you?”
Your eyes cross right over, tongue tempted to loll right out. The overstimulation becomes too much even for you, forcing out so many fresh cruel orgasms from you that a ring of your cum paints the base of his cock.
“You— ah— must love how tight I clench on you,” You manage to bite back, deliberately clenching your walls to tease him. “While you fuck me deep ’n rough.”
“Fuck—“ The bed is practically screaming from the pressure of you being hammered clean. “You’re gonna make me cum.”
“Then do it, baby.” You must have trained him subconsciously. His cock spills heavy, hot globs of his cum right into your soaked pussy, stuffing you right up real good. His whines travel right down to your core, turning you on even more than you could possibly imagine. Something about him being so relentlessly horny for you drives you insane.
“You’re evil, baby.” Caleb groans, pressing hot kisses all over your skin, from your neck right to your jaw all while still thrusting his cum into you. You can just feel some of it escaping your plugged pussy, leaking onto the bed with the rest of your lewd juices. “Making’ me cum like this. Driving me crazy with that pussy of yours.”
Plap! Plap! Plap! sounds around the room alongside your joint cries, sweat-slick skin smacking, and your bell jingling like crazy. Your grip on his leash tightens, tugging him down right to your lips.
The kiss is so deliciously sloppy and wet with your tongues overlapping and teeth clashing. Your core tightens and burns with that familiar heat, screaming for release. “Caleb— ‘m gonna cum again.”
“Good.” He pulls right out of you, leaving your poor pussy clenching on air and practically pulsing his name in morse code. “Cum f’me like a good girl.”
He raises your legs from the bed, hooking them on his shoulders and pounding his cock right back into you. In a much deeper angle hitting your sensitive core all while pinching and rubbing your clit with a calloused finger.
You choke out a cry, vision going completely white as the overstimulation burns through your skin right up your spine. The tightness in your core completely snaps, releasing juices all over you, all over him, all over the damn bed until everything in the eye can see is soaked.
“Thaaaat’s it, baby.” He grins, watching your juices drip down his abs flexing with every thrust. He leans down, pushing you into the meanest mating press to date. His cock practically bullies your cervix with his inhumanely mean thrusts, spurting globs of cum from his last orgasm right into you.
“Squirt on me.” Your toes curl as your eyes roll back into your head. “Make a mess all over me.” He’s babbling at this rate, praising everything you do while he rails you to the stars. “Pussy’s so good f’me. You’re so good f’me. Wanna stuff you to the brim. Wanna make you feel so good ’n comfy that you won’t need to lift a finger.”
You can only whimper in response to his praises. Your nails claw at his back while fruitlessly tugging at his leash. But a flimsy thing like that won’t hold either of you. If anything, it drives you even crazier for each other.
You could go on for hours, days, till the fucking room smells like you. Till the windows and mirrors fog. Till you milk him dry to the fuckin’ bone. Till you’re both so cockdrunk and pussydrunk that your names are the only things you can utter.
Not even a few seconds after Caleb loudly whines as another huge stuffing of hot cum fills you up good. His eyes cross as his tongue sticks right out, dripping saliva right into your mouth. Feeling so nasty yet so damn good, you take it all in, relishing in his taste.
“Fuck, wanna taste you—“ Using the remnants of his strength that didn’t go with his cum right into you, Caleb lifts you up into his arms with his cock still lodged inside. You swear it must have swollen up inside you.
He drives his hips up into you, pushing his cock nice and hard and deep. “Spit into my mouth, baby.” He sticks his tongue out, almost wagging it for you like the tease he is. “Drip into my mouth.”
And who are you to refuse him of his desires? Not to mention, you’ve always had the desire to do it too. The only concern is how he expects you to do it while he fucks you both beyond the point of overstimulation.
But Caleb being Caleb always finds a way. He nips your squished titties, dragging a loud sultry moan out of your lips, bringing drool right out of your tongue and right into his waiting mouth. And that alone just makes him cum again, strongly spurting his cum right into you as if he hasn’t done it twice already.
You’re fucked through and through, almost limp in his embrace and yet still hungry for more. As his cock pumps his seed deep into you, he kisses you with praises of reverence and love.
“So good.” He babbles, tonguing the bell on your collar, whimpering with the soft jingles. “So fuckin’ good. ‘M not gonna stop. ‘M gonna fuck you good all night. Stuff you full of my cum. You want that, baby?”
You quickly nod, mumbling your yeses with hiccups and moans. There was no way you were going to stop at the rate you were going. Perhaps when the sun rises. Or when your injuries heal. You’re not complaining though. It’s not every day you get to have your boyfriend like this, and you plan to make the most of it.
Our poor doctor is always on, always calculating, never giving his brain the proper break it needs. He's been going full-tilt since high school if not even earlier than that - he needs a chance to shut off
So Sylus first approaches this with a relaxing getaway. A breath of fresh air out in a lodge (ahem, one of his safe houses) wouldn't hurt. Plenty of sweets and non-medical books and beautiful hiking trails - just anything to get Zayne away from that damn bustling city
It works.... ish. The problem is that Zayne doesn't really have an off switch. This is relaxing, sure, but there's that last thread of tension and thought that keeps him from ever fully letting his guard down. If it was just for losing control of his Evol, he already knows Sylus heals quickly (and on some level enjoys the pain), but whatever it is is stuck in that amazing brain of his
Sylus asks if he can try something, and though he gives very litte info on what he wants to try, Zayne agrees. Sylus trails his fingers along Zayne's throat, chin, cheek, drawing him into a kiss. When he pulls away, breaths still mingling, Zayne quirks an eyebrow at him and says dryly, "You wanted to try kissing?"
Sylus smirks and quips that that's just the start of it
And just, book abandoned on the floor as Sylus presses Zayne back into the couch, kissing him like a man starved, caressing and holding him in all the right places. Savoring all the breathy little sounds he makes, especially as he trails his mouth along Zayne's throat. He gets scolded for biting him like he does - wide and deep, leaving lasting imprints behind - but he's seen the way Zayne traces the marks when he thinks he's not watching, committing them to memory
Zayne insists they should move this to the bed. Sylus can't help agreeing, loath as he is to get off of his partner. They're stumbling through the cabin, unable to keep their hands or mouths off of each other, undressing as they go. Sylus lifts Zayne to lay in the middle of the bed, and straddles him, because he knows how much he loves when he sits in his lap. Sylus holding his face in both hands, rolling his hips slightly against Zayne's, panting as he pulls away to look into the hazy, adoring eyes of his sweet doctor. Speaks between little kisses, some chaste and quick while others take a few seconds, "I want... to try... fucking every last thought... out of that damn head of yours..." If Zayne wasn't a blushing mess already...
Sylus takes his sweet, sweet time with him. The foreplay alone seems to last an hour, Zayne's body all marked up and eager for more
Cut to Zayne on his hands and knees, Sylus's hand around his throat keeping him from falling into the pillows, as Sylus slowly, torturously, thrusts into him. But it's only slow right now, because just a minute ago he'd set a pace so brutal, Zayne was close to finishing. Edged over and over again, to and from his orgasm, his body aching so much to finally release, it's the only thing on his mind. Choking pleas to let him cum in between hiccuping tears as he feels the pressure ebbing
Sylus kissing and biting and sucking marks all along his neck, shoulders and back. Free hand stroking teasingly over Zayne's stomach and chest, never where he needs him most. Frost has already started to form along the headboard, snowflakes drifting from the ceiling, cold drifting up Sylus's hands. That's really how he knows he's succeeded; when the ice turns against him. He uses the chill to tease Zayne's nipples, hard and red and surrounded with bite marks
"I'll let you cum this time," he promises against the shell of Zayne's ear. "You've earned it, my beloved, haven't you?" He speeds up, increasing back to the insane pace from before, while Zayne can only gasp out various yesses, barely aware of what he's agreeing to, just that Sylus has sped up again. Sylus wrapping his hand around Zayne's neglected cock, letting it fuck into his hand with each thrust. Zayne's holding onto the sheets so tight he thinks they might rip, all the more reason to keep going
Zayne finishing first in weeping moans that hitch and catch in the back of his throat, cum spilling into Sylus's hand and onto the bed beautifully. Sylus's hips stuttering before pressing himself as close to Zayne's as possible, burying himself as deep as he can go, pushing into him to hard Zayne has to fight not to be choked on his hand as he's pushed forward
Sylus is slow to pull out, and watches with pride as his cum dribbles out onto Zayne's thighs and over his balls. It's all Zayne can do to stay on his shaking knees. Carefully keeping him from falling over as he helps Zayne flip over onto his back next to the mess he made. Zayne's far gone, panting with his eyes closed and face twisted into the aftershocks of pleasure. Anything he could say now wouldn't register
The ice and frost start to recede as Sylus cleans Zayne off with a warm wet washcloth, thoroughly taking care of his partner. Conscious thought starts to come back while he's wiping the tears and drool off his face, hazy green eyes fluttering open to look up at him. Sylus can't help himself from presses little kisses to the corner of his mouth and his cheeks. Zayne tries saying something, but it's all slurred together and garbled - a first, no doubt. Sylus shushes him and tells him to just lay there for a bit
Once they're (mostly) cleaned up, Sylus lays beside Zayne (opposite the remaining mess on the bed) and cuddles him, holding him close and giving Zayne the time he needs. Once the ice and snowflakes are completely gone, and their breaths have regulated themselves, Sylus kisses his head and teasingly says, "I think I succeeded, don't you?"
Zayne hasn't been your general practitioner since the two of you began seeing each other. As much as he wanted to, it just didn't feel right. Granted, now that the two of you were together—married and living together—you rarely ever went into the hospital outside of mandated checkups or after the occasional bad run-in with a wanderer.
Zayne was, and he would be the first person to admit it, selfish and possessive when it came to you. The thought of someone else's hands on you, giving you a medical exam that he could be—should be—giving you, it made him feel sick. Some other doctor seeing you in a state of undress that only he could see made him want to keep you home, lock you up and make sure you never had a reason to go to the doctors again. And so he tried.
It started off small. He bought you plenty of vitamins and made sure to keep them well stocked, then he bought supplements, then he was in control of the groceries and your diet. It all happened so slowly, you didn't even realise how good you felt. Your skin was glowing, your hair silky and shiny, and you felt energised as soon as you awoke. Zayne was pleased with himself, of course. If you were the pinnacle of health, you'd never need another doctor touching you again. He'd be the only one.
His plan crumbled when you had to go on a work assignment for a week, however. You had never been good at taking pills without someone reminding you, and your diet consisted of fast food and eating out at restaurants where god only knows what kinds of additives and preservatives were in the food. He didn't have access to you for a whole week, and by the time you came back, you looked a mess.
"Sweetheart, I told you to take your vitamins," He sighed, replacing the cold towel on your forehead that had grown warm due to your fever with his hand. His evol cooled your heated skin and made you shiver. "This is what happens when you don't listen to me."
"I think I need to go to the doctors." You sniffled out, your nose both blocked and running. Zayne had no problem wiping off any kinds of your bodily fluids. He was used to his hands getting more than a little messy when it came to you—that and he had handled all kinds of bodily fluids in his time in operating rooms and post ops.
"I am a doctor. Are you so feverish you're losing your memory?" He cupped your cheeks, still using his evol to level out your increased temperature.
"No, I mean the hospital, Zaynie..." Your head lolled into his hand, cheeks squishing together and making you look all pouty. He'd never admit it, never say it out loud to you, but he enjoyed it when you were sick. It meant he could take care of you without you fighting back, and you looked so soft and fragile.
"You don't need the hospital." His voice was soft, and you could've sworn that you heard the possessiveness lacing his tone, but maybe it was just your feverish mind. "You have me, darling. I can take better care of you than any other doctor. You just need to listen to me, ok?"
He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips cold against your skin. He was always the perfect temperature for you. Cold when you were hot, hot when you were cold. You had no idea how he did it, but he did. He always made you feel comfortable, no matter the weather or the circumstances.
"Would you like me to get you anything else to eat? Something to drink?" He asked, softly caressing your cheek.
"Can you stay with me? If I'm not viral, of course." You mumbled, squishing your face a little more into his hands.
You were so cute, like a squishy little puppy in his hands. This is how you should be. This is how you should always be. Relying on him to keep you comfortable, healthy and loved. "You're not viral, darling. Just a cold and a bit of a fever. I'll stay with you for as long as you want."
He pulled the covers up and slipped in next to you, letting you snuggle into his arms. "'m still hot..." You mumbled against his chest.
"Would you like me to remove a blanket?" He asked, looking at your still flushed form. Oh, how he wanted you under him, making you whimper and mewl, but he feared making you even sicker. As much as he would enjoy having you bedridden and relying solely on him for everything, he knew you would grow restless soon and push yourself harder and harder, even though you were sick. When you nodded in response to his question, he pulled one of the blankets off of the bed, making sure you were comfortable as he pulled you back into his side. "You need to rest, my love, or you'll never get over your sickness. I've got you, and I won't leave you." His voice was a low rumble in your ear, filled with a certain possessiveness and love that was reserved exclusively for you to see. You were sick right now, and he would be your medicine.
synopsis: you're injured and supposed to be resting but you just can't stop going out. so caleb finds a way to convince you to stay inside to let your injuries heal (it gets freaky).
warnings: porn with plot, use of collars, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pussy slapping, obscene use of hands, cum eating, sloppy wet marathon sex, multiple creampies, manhandling, squirting, spitting, pussydrunk!caleb, cockdrunk!reader, you two are just nasty freaks.
wc: 3,4k
a/n: i'm literally about to cumbust. caleb's got me feral these days. and he will never be beating the panty sniffer allegations!!
MINORS DON'T INTERACT!
You believed it was a joke. Or some one of the many weirdly ominous things Caleb had a habit of saying to get a kick out of you. It must have been.
“What?” You blink, staring at his hands.
“Remember what I told you?” He asked, free hand slowly reaching up your thigh. “About that stray cat.”
You were fresh out the shower, skin still steaming from the heat of the water pelting your back. You have nothing on but a gown, and not one of the fluffy ones either. His eyes had been on you since you left the shower and he hasn’t bothered hiding his blushing.
“The one you put a collar on?” Your brows raise at the memory. He really was worried about that poor kitty. It was all injured and kept trying to run, so Caleb eventually put a collar with a bell on the cat so he’d know if it tried to go and be adventurous again.
Then it clicked. You had a minor injury on your leg from your last mission. A solo mission that was supposed to be an investigation had ended with you fighting at least six Wanderers throughout the night. Caleb made sure your superiors put you on break for at least two weeks (with Zayne’s medical support) to give you time to rest.
But being the stubborn person you are, you always found a way to leave your apartment to Caleb’s agitation. It got so bad that even he had to take leave from the Fleet to keep an eye on you— as if his usual methods didn’t already work.
It all makes sense. The fact that he’s in Linkon, the fact that you’ve been put on sick leave for two weeks, and the fact that he’s been watching you like a hawk especially since you try to go out.
The damn collars in his hands are to make you the cat in this situation.
“Are you serious?” You blink, trying to ignore the growing heat in your core. You couldn’t lie, it was hot.
One of the collars, you presume is yours, has a pretty red bow tied around its bell. The other has a leather leash attached to it. Almost like a leash for a dog.
“I don’t want you running off when you’re still recoverin’.” Caleb’s hand disappear into your silk robe, inching higher and higher up your thighs, just so damn close to your pussy. “And I don’t want you to get worried. So I shouldn’t leave you.”
His lips inch closer to your neck, hot breath ghost over your damn skin. This fucker—
“How about I test a little theory of mine?” The metallic jingles of the collars ring in your ears. His sunset eyes raise to your gaze with that stupidly handsome puppy look he gives you when he gets needy and desperate. “Can I put this collar on you?”
“You’re such a freak.” You hiss, watching his eyes flutter in plain as the fucking sky obviousness. You learned he had a thing for you being a little bit mean. Just a little. And he does everything he can to get on your nerves.
“So are you.” His hand finally reaches your soaking pussy and circles your entrance with a single finger. You deeply inhale feeling your walls clench on air. “Look at you, so wet. I think you want me to collar you up. So I always know where you are.”
Bold of him to talk. You can literally see the growing tent in his pants. He likes it just as much as you do.
His finger slowly dips into your pussy, pumping in and out with deliberate precision. He knows exactly what to do to set you off, turn you on, make you beg. And he is making things extra slow to get to you.
“Caleb.” You attempt to warn but he curls his finger right into that spongy pleasure spot that he knows drives you insane.
“Why would you wanna go out and about when you’re injured, pips?” He asks with concern in his eyes as if he isn’t torturing you with his finger. It’d be better if he put in another or two. Wet squelches travel right up to your ears to add to the injury. What a tease.
Your eyes gloss over with intense need. What a fucking—
“It’s almost like you want me to keep you close,” Another finger finally slips in, stretching you out deliciously. A heavenly moan escapes your lips, not that you were trying to hide it to begin with. “Keep a close eye on you and remind you that you’re better off restin’ here at home.”
His words quickly become white noise just from how his fingers turn you into horny mush. If there’s one thing your boyfriend has mastered, it’s driving you insane with his fingers alone. Now imagine what his cock does.
“Fuck.” You sigh, feeling your back arch to feel his fingers deeper inside you. And like the good boyfriend he is, he gives you exactly what you need— pushing his fingers deeper and deeper until his knuckles nudge your entrance. “And– oh, Caleb- what- what about you?”
“Hm?” His tongue darts out his mouth, deeply concentrated on how your pussy clenches around his fingers as fast as your pulse. The tent on his sweatpants start to darken from his leaking precum.
“There’s two… collars.” You say slowly or else his ministrations would bring you to a stutter. “If the bell one’s for me, what about the one with the leash?”
Caleb’s lips form an ‘o’ shape, eyes following your gaze to the collars in his hand. “That one’s for me. You want me to stay close to take care of you, right? What better way to do that than to make sure I never leave your side?”
Your hand slowly travels down to grip his hardened cock, gently stroking it through the soaked fabric. Your finger danced around his tip just the way he liked it— slow and light, just to rile him up even more. You watch his eyes squeeze shut in a sore attempt to hold back his own lewd noises.
“So if I wear the collar you will too?” Your hand expertly works his cock, squeezing his clothed shaft as you stroked him. Unable to verbally respond, Caleb slowly nods while huffing out soft groans.
That’s how you end up on your back in the bed, legs spread with your boyfriend ruthlessly eating your pussy.
Your room is silent apart from the obnoxiously slick noise of your wet, cum soaked skin being slurped and devoured. Caleb made you cum three times already and it looked like he wasn’t stopping.
“C-Caleb—” Your eyes roll back for the nth time as his lips close around your clit for his tongue to flick back and forth in that delicious pattern. He expertly works your clit, slowly and carefully spelling out his name into your arousal all while curling his fingers deep inside your soaking pussy.
“Caleb— god— please—“ Your pleas fall to deaf ears, mostly because he’s trapped his head between your trembling thighs to suffocate in your grip. You can tell he’s getting off on it based on how he fucks your slick back into with his fingers, how he moans loudly with every slurp, kiss and bite on your skin.
He is so gone and he fucking loves it.
Your collar jingles every time you squirm and twitch, and sings a melody whenever your back arches for him. It’s like a little instrument that accompanies the symphony of moans and whimpers that leave your pretty lips.
He’s so animalistic with it, slobbering and drooling all over you while he slurps you up like one of his protein shakes. The bed’s shaking from how he’s grinding on the mattress to get a kick from all that self induced edging— his main priority, however, is you and that cute pussy that has him on a leash (literally and figuratively).
“Keep drippin’, pips.” He groans into your pussy, pressing hot smooches on your lower lips. “Keep cummin’ on my face. Tug on my damn leash. Fuckin’ love tasting you.”
Your clothes had been long abandoned after the first orgasm he ate you through. You made such a mess that your panties (which he will keep for later) were thrown across your room along with the rest of his clothes.
The way his tongue just effortlessly slides right past your entrance and caresses your walls brings a hoarse cry right out of your kiss-swollen lips. And of course your boyfriend dutifully responds with the sluttiest whine you’ve heard. You tug harder at his leash, overwhelmed by the continuous stimulation from his nose bumping your clit.
It all rushes straight down to his cock, jutting against he mattress. He shakes his head to spread your juices all over his face, wanting to be covered and blessed by your essence. Wanting to lick it right off his face once he was done. To have your scent on his form without having to scramble for it by rubbing your used panties on his face.
Eating your pussy alone was more than enough to make him cum untouched. What makes it even better is your relentless tugging of his leash, continuously pulling his face closer to your weeping cunt. If your moans weren’t enough then your trembling thighs were more than sufficient to keep him going. And he’d be damned to waste the meal you’re serving him on a diamond platter.
“Caleb!” Your cry summons another harsh, intense climax bringing your legs to a violent shake. His grip on your thighs tighten and the slurps and muffled groans get so much louder that you can’t even hear your own moans.
He tilts his head back, finally releasing your legs from his iron grip. Eyes closed, Caleb chuckles as he gulps as much air as his lungs can allow.
“Should’ve had you sit on my face.” He rasps and wipes your juices off of his chin. Almost intuitively, you open your lips awaiting a taste of your juices.
“Fucking freak.” You whimper as he stuffs his fingers in your mouth for you to wipe him clean. Your tongue laps up your yummy essence, ensuring all that remains on his hand is just your saliva.
“Your fucking freak, baby.” He slowly move in and out of your mouth until the tips of his fingers tap the back of your throat making you gag around him. “Your freak that loves eating you good, loves making you feel good, loves making you cum.”
His free hand cups your pussy, feeling your wetness soak his hand like a waterfall. “Look at you. Making such a mess.” He raises his hand and lands a soft smack on your pussy making you jump from the overstimulation. Your bell jingles from the impact. He finally retracts his fingers to lick your spit off his hand, relishing in your taste with a low moan.
“Speak… for yourself.” You huff, eyes darting down to his reddened twitching length. Globs of precum dripped down his thick shaft surrounded with throbbing veins— three to be specific. “Got you all hard from eating me like a good boy.”
Caleb’s eyes flutter shut from the dirty comment. His cock jumped, dripping precum right onto your hot skin. “It’s like you want me to stuff you to remind you what gets your eyes rolling back.”
“All bark, no bite.” You grin, watching his eyes rapidly dilate. “You gonna bark again, baby?”
“Woof.” Damn, that’s fucking hot. You say nothing apart from spreading your legs wider for him. An invitation for him to act on his word. “Humble me then, Colonel. Or maybe I’ll be doing that—“
Your words get swallowed by his lips and tongue engulfing you in a lascivious kiss. Rough and demanding, breaths heavy and endless, Caleb wastes no time aligning his dripping tip with your entrance. He circles around you, slowly stroking up and down, bumping his cockhead with your swollen bud. Your juices spill all over his shaft, making it so much smoother, wetter, lewder. Fuck.
“Stop teasing,” You tug his leash as you moan against his hungry lips. “Put it in, ‘leb.”
“Mm, command me.” He grins. “You want me to fuck you good, yeah? You want this cock all up in you? Want me to stuff you full?”
The stimulation is too good for you to respond, all that can be mustered is a nod. “Use your words, pips.”
Of course.
His finger taps the bell on your collar, ringing out a cute dingle! Teasingly tapping on it, his cock slides up and down your folds, tip occasionally teasing itself right into you before pulling out. You can tell it’s driving him insane too, from how his breath is laboured, how his eyes are slowly but surely rolling back, and most definitely those soft whimpers he’s struggling to hide.
“Please, baby,” You whine, grinding your hips hard against his cock and tugging harsh on his leash. You’re practically drunk on him without even having his girth inside you. “Put in in f’me. Want you to fuck me full. Be good ’n stuff me.”
“Heh,” Caleb huffs, almost choking from how hard you pulled him. He presses his cockhead into your pussy, groaning at how tight you squeeze around him, sucking him in like a vacuum. “Yes ma’am.”
And he slips in smooth like a hand into a glove. Maybe because you’re slick from all the times he made you cum with his mouth. You both tilt your heads back, close to cumming right on the spot. He pauses to catch his breath, the dog tag on his necklace and the leather strap of his leash dangling right over your face.
“Oh, she’s squeezin’ so hard.” He grins, practically drooling from how your pussy sucks him riiiight in.
He rocks in and out of you fast, absorbing the sound of your slick and cum squelching, drenching his cock in your essence. Each thrust takes him deeper and deeper into you until his tip pokes your sensitive gummy spot.
Your little bell jumps with your titties, jingling and ringing with each relentless pounding of his length in you while his heavy sacks smack your skin. It feels so gooood and so fucking lewd that your words are reduced to incoherent mumbles.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Caleb chuckles, dragging his length in and out of your pussy with relentless speed. Even he can’t hold back his deliciously slutty moans from how good you squeeze and tighten around him. His eyes are locked on your collar, glossing over the jingling metal accompanying your moans.
“You like how I’m stuffing you?”
Your eyes cross right over, tongue tempted to loll right out. The overstimulation becomes too much even for you, forcing out so many fresh cruel orgasms from you that a ring of your cum paints the base of his cock.
“You— ah— must love how tight I clench on you,” You manage to bite back, deliberately clenching your walls to tease him. “While you fuck me deep ’n rough.”
“Fuck—“ The bed is practically screaming from the pressure of you being hammered clean. “You’re gonna make me cum.”
“Then do it, baby.” You must have trained him subconsciously. His cock spills heavy, hot globs of his cum right into your soaked pussy, stuffing you right up real good. His whines travel right down to your core, turning you on even more than you could possibly imagine. Something about him being so relentlessly horny for you drives you insane.
“You’re evil, baby.” Caleb groans, pressing hot kisses all over your skin, from your neck right to your jaw all while still thrusting his cum into you. You can just feel some of it escaping your plugged pussy, leaking onto the bed with the rest of your lewd juices. “Making’ me cum like this. Driving me crazy with that pussy of yours.”
Plap! Plap! Plap! sounds around the room alongside your joint cries, sweat-slick skin smacking, and your bell jingling like crazy. Your grip on his leash tightens, tugging him down right to your lips.
The kiss is so deliciously sloppy and wet with your tongues overlapping and teeth clashing. Your core tightens and burns with that familiar heat, screaming for release. “Caleb— ‘m gonna cum again.”
“Good.” He pulls right out of you, leaving your poor pussy clenching on air and practically pulsing his name in morse code. “Cum f’me like a good girl.”
He raises your legs from the bed, hooking them on his shoulders and pounding his cock right back into you. In a much deeper angle hitting your sensitive core all while pinching and rubbing your clit with a calloused finger.
You choke out a cry, vision going completely white as the overstimulation burns through your skin right up your spine. The tightness in your core completely snaps, releasing juices all over you, all over him, all over the damn bed until everything in the eye can see is soaked.
“Thaaaat’s it, baby.” He grins, watching your juices drip down his abs flexing with every thrust. He leans down, pushing you into the meanest mating press to date. His cock practically bullies your cervix with his inhumanely mean thrusts, spurting globs of cum from his last orgasm right into you.
“Squirt on me.” Your toes curl as your eyes roll back into your head. “Make a mess all over me.” He’s babbling at this rate, praising everything you do while he rails you to the stars. “Pussy’s so good f’me. You’re so good f’me. Wanna stuff you to the brim. Wanna make you feel so good ’n comfy that you won’t need to lift a finger.”
You can only whimper in response to his praises. Your nails claw at his back while fruitlessly tugging at his leash. But a flimsy thing like that won’t hold either of you. If anything, it drives you even crazier for each other.
You could go on for hours, days, till the fucking room smells like you. Till the windows and mirrors fog. Till you milk him dry to the fuckin’ bone. Till you’re both so cockdrunk and pussydrunk that your names are the only things you can utter.
Not even a few seconds after Caleb loudly whines as another huge stuffing of hot cum fills you up good. His eyes cross as his tongue sticks right out, dripping saliva right into your mouth. Feeling so nasty yet so damn good, you take it all in, relishing in his taste.
“Fuck, wanna taste you—“ Using the remnants of his strength that didn’t go with his cum right into you, Caleb lifts you up into his arms with his cock still lodged inside. You swear it must have swollen up inside you.
He drives his hips up into you, pushing his cock nice and hard and deep. “Spit into my mouth, baby.” He sticks his tongue out, almost wagging it for you like the tease he is. “Drip into my mouth.”
And who are you to refuse him of his desires? Not to mention, you’ve always had the desire to do it too. The only concern is how he expects you to do it while he fucks you both beyond the point of overstimulation.
But Caleb being Caleb always finds a way. He nips your squished titties, dragging a loud sultry moan out of your lips, bringing drool right out of your tongue and right into his waiting mouth. And that alone just makes him cum again, strongly spurting his cum right into you as if he hasn’t done it twice already.
You’re fucked through and through, almost limp in his embrace and yet still hungry for more. As his cock pumps his seed deep into you, he kisses you with praises of reverence and love.
“So good.” He babbles, tonguing the bell on your collar, whimpering with the soft jingles. “So fuckin’ good. ‘M not gonna stop. ‘M gonna fuck you good all night. Stuff you full of my cum. You want that, baby?”
You quickly nod, mumbling your yeses with hiccups and moans. There was no way you were going to stop at the rate you were going. Perhaps when the sun rises. Or when your injuries heal. You’re not complaining though. It’s not every day you get to have your boyfriend like this, and you plan to make the most of it.
This isn’t how the game was supposed to go.
You're not supposed to be here.
You're an anomaly.
But if you’re already here, then… can’t you just enjoy it for now? Just for a little while? Before the main story begins? Before everything inevitably falls into place?
...Right?
— content warning/s:
mild swearing
implied experimentation
mild psychological distress (it's not that detailed though)
cross-posted on ao3! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
CH. 01 — "FIRST" MEET
You had a life before all of this.
You did, didn’t you? Yes, yes you did.
You can still remember it—late nights staring at a screen, the glow of a game illuminating your face. The rush of excitement when a new update dropped. The hours spent analyzing story routes, picking apart dialogue options, debating with friends over which love interest was the best.
That was your life. A normal, mundane life.
But now, you're here. Inside the game.
—
You wake up to the cold, sterile scent of antiseptic and metal.
It’s too cold. The air feels thin, artificial, pressing against your skin like a layer of static. The surface beneath you is hard and unforgiving, the kind of cold that bites through thin fabric and sinks into your bones.
You open your eyes.
The ceiling above you is smooth and white, glaringly bright beneath harsh artificial lights. You squint, wincing at the intensity of it. The low hum of machines fills the silence, a mechanical heartbeat drumming against your skull.
Your body feels… wrong. Like it’s too light. Too thin. You lift your hand—and freeze.
Smaller. Pale. Your fingers tremble as you press them against your chest. Your heart is pounding, fast and hard enough to hurt. Your breath hitches. This isn’t your body. These aren’t your hands.
Panic surges. You sit up too quickly, the room tilting violently around you.
Where—where are you?
The answer arrives before the question finishes forming.
Gaia Research Center.
You know this place. Even though you’ve never been here before, you know it. The walls, the lights, the sound of distant machines—it's all burned into your memory from countless hours spent behind a screen.
Love and Deepspace.
You’ve played this game. You know this world.
But you don’t belong here. You’re not part of the story. You’re not a route or an NPC or an extra. You shouldn’t exist.
Your breath starts coming faster. Too fast. Your chest feels tight, too tight—like the air isn’t reaching your lungs. Your hands clutch at the thin fabric of the clinical gown they’ve dressed you in. It’s cold. You’re shaking.
You’re hyperventilating.
You hear the sound of movement nearby. Soft footsteps against the floor. A shadow falls over you.
“Hey.”
You flinch.
The voice is soft, low, but sharp enough to cut through the noise in your head. Your gaze snaps up—and meets a pair of deep purple eyes.
He crouches in front of you, head tilting slightly as he watches you. He looks young—maybe eight, nine years old—but there’s something in his gaze that feels older. He’s too calm. Too steady. His hands rest on his knees, his shoulders relaxed, but there’s an unnatural stillness to him. Like a predator at rest.
Dark brown hair falls into his face, but it’s not enough to hide his expression—guarded, sharp, assessing. His gaze flickers down to your trembling hands, then back to your face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
That’s when you see it.
The metal collar around his neck.
SUBJECT 002 – DESTROYER
You inhale sharply.
“Caleb,” you whisper.
His gaze sharpens. His eyes narrow slightly. “...That's not my name.”
You cover your mouth. Shit.
Right. Of course it’s not. You’ve never heard of “Destroyer” in the game. But this is Caleb. Even younger, even smaller—but you know those eyes. You’ve stared at them through a screen too many times to mistake them now.
It’s him.
“What’s wrong?” he asks quietly.
You don't answer. You can't.
Your chest tightens painfully, your breath still ragged. You curl forward, clutching your arms as you rock slightly. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.
You were supposed to wake up in your bed. You were supposed to be at home, not inside some hellish research lab in a game. Not here.
Your breathing is still too fast. The walls are too white, too bright. This body feels wrong. Your heart is hammering painfully against your ribs. You press your hands to your face, trying to steady yourself, but the panic doesn’t fade.
“I…” Your voice shakes. “I want to go home.”
His head tilts. A slow, assessing movement. “Home?”
“I’m not supposed to be here,” you whisper. “This isn’t… This isn’t real.”
His hand brushes against your knee. You jerk back instinctively. His expression doesn’t change.
“You’re shaking,” he observes. His voice is calm. Too calm. “You shouldn’t be scared.”
You laugh, but it’s a choked, broken sound. “Shouldn’t I?”
His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer. Then he stands. His hand extends toward you.
“Come on,” he says. “You can’t stay on the floor forever.”
Your hands remain curled in your lap. You stare at his outstretched hand. His fingers are thin, pale, bruises blooming beneath the skin.
Finally, you reach out.
His fingers close around yours. Warm. Steady. Stronger than you expected.
You let him pull you to your feet.
The days blur together after that.
You learn the routine quickly. Wake up. Training. Testing. Pain. The scientists don’t care how small you are or how much you’re shaking. You are not a person. You are data. An experiment.
They test your Evol constantly. Chronosight. That’s what they call it. The ability to feel the past, present, and future all at once—probabilities stretched out in infinite branches only you can see.
But "Chronosight" doesn’t let you stop it. You can only see the outcome. Not change it.
That’s what they want to fix.
Immortality.
They want you perfect. They want to make eternity accessible to humanity. But you already know how this ends.
You are not the first experiment. You will not be the last.
You are not alone.
There are three of you.
You meet them for the first time in the dark.
It’s cold—colder than it should be—and the shadows stretch long and thin across the walls. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear the low hum of machines, steady and rhythmic, like a heartbeat. Your breath fogs the air in front of you. It’s too quiet. Too empty.
Then you see them.
A small figure curled up beneath a thin sheet, knees drawn to their chest. They’re so small they could disappear beneath the blankets if they tried. Black hair spills over their face in soft, tangled strands. Their shoulders rise and fall with shaky, uneven breaths.
You take a step closer. The floor is cold beneath your bare feet.
They stir. Slowly. Their head lifts, and you see wide dark eyes blinking sleepily at you from beneath their hair. Their gaze is unfocused at first—hazy and slow, like they’re not entirely awake—but then they blink again, and the darkness sharpens into clarity.
“Oh.” Their voice is soft and small. “Are you… real?”
You don’t know how to answer that. You hesitate, but they’re already sitting up, rubbing at their eyes with the heel of one hand. The collar around their neck glints faintly in the dim light.
SUBJECT 001 – UNICORN
You know who they are. Of course you do. The main character of Love and Deepspace. You’ve played through their route before—seen them laugh, cry, fall in love. They’re supposed to be strong. Charismatic. A hero.
But right now, they just look small.
“You’re… not supposed to be here.” Their brow furrows slightly. Then they brighten. “Unless… you’re my friend?”
Your mouth opens. No sound comes out.
“It’s okay!” They scoot closer, the sheet falling away from their shoulders. Their fingers tug nervously at the edge of their collar. “If you are, that’s okay. I’ve never had a friend before.” Their eyes shimmer. “We could be friends, right?”
You don’t know what to say.
They take your silence as a yes. A soft, breathless smile blooms across their face. Their hand stretches toward you, fingers curling shyly.
“I’m 001, or Unicorn, if that's what you wanna call me... the adults call me that, anyway,” they say. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” They tilt their head, silver eyes glinting beneath the dim lights. “What’s your name?”
You hesitate. The room feels smaller. The walls feel closer.
They don’t seem to notice. Their smile remains steady, bright. “It’s okay if you don’t know yet,” they say gently. “We can figure it out together.”
You don’t reach for their hand. Not yet. But they don’t seem to mind. Their gaze softens, the tension in their small frame unwinding.
“You’re not alone anymore,” 001... Unicorn whispers. “We can stay together now.”
Their smile could almost make you forget where you are. Almost.
But the collar glints cold beneath their chin. And when their fingers curl nervously into their palm, you notice the faint marks along their skin—places where the metal has bitten too deep.
“Stay with me,” they say softly. Their voice is so small. So fragile. “Okay?”
You shouldn’t promise them that. You know better. But when they look at you like that, with dark eyes wide and hopeful—
〔 𝒾 〕 "I'm sorry that I can't be her," you say, tears interlaced with every word. You circle back to her endlessly, the loop remaining unbroken. The dead girl's footfall is everywhere, and you're breaking with every step she takes across Caleb's heart. "I'll never be. We both know that, but don't expect me to be waiting around for you to realize I deserve more than a man who looks at me and only sees a ghost."
𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛 𝐱𝐢𝐚 𝓍 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐦𝐜!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 8805 (estimated 20k for full story) ⋮ 18+ ⋮
angst with a happy ending, smut, canon divergent as mc dies in the initial explosion and not caleb (he still gets injured thus requiring his biomech arm), coworkers au, rivals to lovers, fwb, miscommunication + jealousy, semi-toxic dynamics, mentions of ptsd and grief, dom!caleb, semi-public sex, size kink, manhandling, gagging (glove as a gag aye), multiple orgasms, marking, dirty talk, degradation kink, "sir" kink, spanking, edging, overstimulation, oral (f + m receiving), cum-eating, unprotected sex, creampie
⌗ 𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ── First story on this blog! I decided to release this first part because I'm so excited to post the first chunk! I hope you guys enjoy it because it was a pleasure to write. Shoutout to @tinycatharsis @xylatox @aeristudios @frenchkisstheabyss and @xomakara for reading this first part as well as @hyukalyptus for doing editing magic on it, I love you all so much ♡
Caleb doesn't know what to do about the dog tag.
The present is years old by now, but it looks the same as it did when he received it. It's not rusted or faded, and there are no dings or scrapes to buff out. The care of its owner shows with every gleam and glisten of the necklace in the sunlight. He hasn't taken it off, not once. Not until a few days ago. Not until the clasp came undone from the impact.
The only sign of wear on the jewelry is the missing gemstone at the center of the silver apple that rests next to the dog tag. It's ironic in a sense, but Caleb can't fathom how.
His and her friends sniffle and hiccup with every inch of dirt that's laid out over the coffin. Caleb insists on doing this part of the service alone, no matter how long it takes. The act stains his suit pants through the process of covering each square foot, but he doesn't care if he looks unkempt or not. Most things don't matter now, anyway.
The funeral home director suggested Gran’s and the hunter’s services and burials be over the course of two days—yesterday and today. “You’ve already been through so much,” he whispered with an authoritarian sympathy only elders possessed. “Take this one day at a time.”
One day at a time is hellfire, a kind of agony one only understands when life crumbles around you at once. The gut-punch of losing his caretaker would've taken enough time to heal from on its own. But Caleb doesn't understand how to navigate this additional pain that pales in comparison to the previous set of wounds, still fresh as the day they were inflicted upon him. “How does a person recover from the devastation of watching the girl he loves die right in front of him?
The Deepspace Aviation Administration's mandated grief counselor recommended grounding techniques for wandering thoughts, especially ones related to the accident. "It wasn't an accident," Caleb interrupted him when he used that word. "Don't mince words."
"However you see the situation, Mr. Xia, focus on what is in your current nexus of control when your mind spirals."
Following the doctor's orders, he takes a deep breath and tries to feel the ground underneath his feet. All the while, he clutches the dog tag around his neck tightly as the ceremony concludes.
She gave it to Caleb the day he left for Skyhaven. He promised her, foolishly, he’d return to their childhood home as often as possible. Time constraints of their everyday lives that kept them apart could not sever their bond; Caleb wouldn't let it. She might’ve been a hunter, and he a pilot, but their constant course was always back to each other, no matter how briefly those lines converged.
If only he knew their time together would run so short, too short for him to finally pluck up the courage to say he couldn't live without her. And now he has to make peace with the fact that that lost declaration is his new reality.
Without thinking, Caleb lets the metal dog tag pierce his skin. The necklace slices the inside of his palm open slowly. It takes ten minutes and the crowd around Caleb dissipating for him to notice blood running down his shirtsleeve. The loneliness gives way to an indifference that shields him from physical consequences. All he senses is the thrum of his heartbeat as the wind meets his open wound.
If nothing else, the hollowness will remind him it was real and he was once whole. That's what will keep him from spiraling ever again. From expecting the world to be kind to him now that his soul is irrevocably destroyed.
2 YEARS LATER
"And this is the loading bay for each squadron and their respective aircrafts. Yours will be around two dozen, and you'll meet your subordinates later on today once we establish your security clearances." Damien, your new boss and one of the many majors of the fleet continues with the tour of the base. His harping about the procedures and commandments is background noise as you navigate the space together. You're aware of what you can and cannot do as a Farspace Fleet member, even more so now with your new rank.
It's not as if lower-leveled privates don’t know their way around. You've been to the loading bay many times, taking the route to and from excruciating missions in the past year like clockwork. You could label each piece of a plane's equipment and list their purposes by heart if given the opportunity.
With your recently appointed title as First Lieutenant, you are well aware things will change. Subtly, for sure, but just enough to tilt you off your axis, hence the necessity of such a tour. "We need to show you what it means to be a part of the company with a fresh lens, so to speak," Damien had said curtly during the first hour of the tour, like you were a child on her first day of preschool. Maybe it was more for them than you, seeing as you already felt the shift in your previous colleagues' demeanor. Some of them were happy to see you move up in the world, while others sneered from the sidelines.
It didn't matter to you, regardless. Ty, your best friend and a newly appointed Second Lieutenant, is the only person you need beside you to face the career change. And she's even more elated than you are. It's been three days, but she's remained star-struck, especially by the glamour of her new badge and uniform.
"I can't believe this is actually happening," she repeats for the third time in two hours. "Wonder when we'll get to see our new guns."
"Seventy-two hours and you're already chomping at the bit for target practice," you comment with a smile. She's still playing with the golden stars on her coat as she walks, and you nudge her in the shoulder to remind her to stop.
"Don't pretend you're not antsy either. If the rumors are true and they have our names engraved in them, you're gonna shit yourself," she says with a wink.
"Fleet personnel are forbidden from tampering with company equipment, especially for cosmetic purposes,” Damien interrupts with his objective voice. “It's sanction number twelve if you need more clarification on the matter.” There's no admonishment in his tone, but no humor either. You and Ty look at each other, biting your lips to keep the laughter from escaping.
Damien proceeds with his lecture until everyone is at one side of the bay. Masses of opaque grey clouds melt into the surrounding concrete and you could almost forget you’re at work. The city without-a-doubt lives up to its name—the sky is your haven in every sense of the word.
You always dreamed of flying away one day and it seems possible now more than ever.
That is until a masculine hand yanks you from the edge of the runway, the strength of his forceful fingers burning your right bicep. "Watch it!" a voice you've never heard before cuts through the air, domineering and deafening.
Within seconds, your face is inches away from Caleb Xia. The colonel’s violet eyes sear through your own while his shoulder-length hair blows in the breeze, letting the edges of his wolf-cut glint in the sunlight.
The only information you gleaned on the colonel came from company paperwork and sultry whispers of nurses and comrades. Never expecting to see him in person, you took all the gossip as myths at worst and warnings at best.
Now, you see why the rumor mill spins with his name on each spoke.
"Did you forget this base is almost five thousand feet above Linkon? You could kill yourself if you're not careful." His voice is threateningly calm. On-lookers would say his demeanor is on the cusp of normal if it weren't for the intensity of his gaze, the heaving of his chest, and the tightness of his fingers around your upper arm. His grip loosens, but his stare remains staunch.
You gulp and respond in haste to avoid furthering your newfound embarrassment. "Apologies, Colonel."
Though his grasp releases, his gaze lingers across your face and you wonder what assumptions he's making in his mind. Have you already stunted your career growth before it's had the chance to bloom, like a seed plucked too quickly from the soil?
"Are these the new lieutenants for Squadron Eight, Damien?" Caleb says the words without looking at the major. His words come with an aura of mystified disdain, and your jaw clenches. Initially, you were nervous in his presence, but now you feel talked down to and rightfully agitated. One mistake during a first impression did not dictate your entire worth to the fleet. Ty sees your eyes beginning to blaze, and she pleads with her own for you to calm down.
You grind your teeth together to keep a response from leaving your mouth, but the second the next words come off of his tongue, it's over. "Looks like this one has to remember the boundaries of her bearings."
"Nobody asked you to remind me of my faculties, Colonel Xia. I'm more than capable of that responsibility."
Suggested edit: Preparing for Caleb’s harsher words—or even another death grip on another one of your limbs—he chuckles instead. The edges of it sting your pride once again. He beckons your group of three to walk alongside him. Only then do you realize his second-in-command, Gideon, is standing by and waiting for the colonel to finish his impromptu business.
Clearly, Caleb has other plans.
You remain close to Caleb's side as the other three in your party stay a distance behind, all of them clearly intimidated by the man at your left. You walk for a while before stopping a few meters away from a set of aircrafts parked on the opposite runway. They're painted with the classic fleet colors of gray, black, and red, along with their squadron numbers marked in white text on one side.
After clearing his throat, Caleb smirks. "If you're so aware of things, you must know the fleet wouldn’t exist without the power of our arsenal." He turns to face you head on again, expression hardening with a smile so bright it stuns you. "So, First Lieutenant, what was the original—"
Too easy.
"The C-5M Super Galaxy was the prototype for the fleet's F35s. Taken from the American Airforce until its dissolution in 3012, the bones of that plane are in use today across all our operations through the Deepspace Tunnel and beyond," you finish Caleb's eventual question seamlessly.
But you refuse to look at him directly and instead train your gaze on the faraway planes, tracing the slopes and curves of their structures in a loop. "The only alteration the fleet made to the C-5M," you continue, "was lighter aerodynamic design so squadrons and cargo could move across the space-time continuum more efficiently."
You can't contain your smug smile or how wide it spreads before you turn to meet Caleb's eyes once again. "And that's just for our carrier crafts. Do you want the origins of our reconnaissance and bomber planes too, Colonel?"
In a move you don't expect, Caleb's expression softens. An emotion lurks beneath his irises; it refuses to let the smile meet his eyes. He still steps forward again to shake your hand, his touch much gentler than before. "Congratulations, Lieutenant. You may actually survive moving up the ranks."
Silently, Caleb motions for Gideon to make their exit. Damien stutters out a comment on needing to speak to the colonel further about a different matter, leaving you and Ty alone to reflect on whatever that intrusion was. Caleb doesn't look back once, but you sense the longevity of his purple eyes lingering over your form. The ghost of his presence still pierces past your muscles and buries deep into your bones, even as he continues further down the strip of pavement toward the fleet's headquarters.
"So, he seems like a peach," Ty comments first before a breathless laugh spills from her lips. "He is very attractive, though."
He's definitely something, you think to yourself. You're just unsure of what that something is.
"Firearm accuracy estimated as follows: ninety-four percent. Firing distance could be a factor in the remaining six percent deficit. Please practice again for an updated calculation."
The Shotbot's cheerful voice threatens you, or at least you think so. It wants you to throw its spherical body across the room with the way it taunts you. Back when you were too green, you might have. But you have to be better than that, calmer than you used to be. Quality results for a lieutenant don't come in haste, and definitely not with heightened emotions.
"Will do, bitch," you mutter, breathless from the exertive exercise. You kick a few spent shell casings on the training floor as you walk back to the practice bench, your hammering heart in tow. You place new bullets in the magazine, one at a time with quiet precision until it feels hefty in your palm again. The gun's weight lowers your frantic heartbeat, your rushing pulse steadying to an even tempo.
When chaos is all you’ve known, you make peace with storms and weather through until they’re over. Weapons make weathering those storms easier.
A deep chuckle comes from one edge of the training space, and you recognize it like a windchime above your front door despite only hearing it a few times. It holds curiosity with a sharp gleam. Its sound cuts through you like a knife as its owner waits to see if it's worth striking what's on the other end of the blade.
"Ninety-four. Is that your personal best?"
You laugh, but it's too airy to hold any emotion. It's more for theatrics than anything else. Your gun clanks sharply on the bench when you set it down.
You turn to see Caleb staring you down smugly in his tank top and sweatpants, training clothes immaculate in comparison to your crew shirt and spandex shorts drenched in sweat. You don't let his appearance faze you, though. You keep your spine straight and your face steadfast as you reply. "What's yours, Colonel?"
Caleb tsks, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "I asked you first, bluebird." Seeing the surprise in your eyes, a laugh erupts from him again. "Don't freak out. It wasn't that hard to find your old code name."
"You were investigating me?"
He contemplates his next words with a pout. "Think of it as gainin' intel. It's a small part of my job description to oversee the new fish in our big pond. Especially one so close to drowning the other day."
You roll your eyes, leaning back behind you to grab your pistol. "I think we established that I can handle myself just fine."
"Prove it."
You quirk an eyebrow. "You want more oral history on the fleet? You could've just said so."
Caleb's smirk sits in contrast with the tick of his jaw. A million emotions flash across his face, but it's indecipherable past the two tells he's shown. He raises a hand, and your gun shoots out from your palm. It whips through the air until it lands in his own. "Hand-to-hand combat. I'm curious to see if your accuracy is better in this facet of battle strategy."
Damn him and his gravity evol.
Many comrades of yours who fought with him on the frontlines commented on his physical manipulation of guns, melee weapons, and even body parts that left them stunned. He clearly knows how to use it to his advantage, particularly in times like this to humor himself.
"Will you be using that trick of yours when we fight?"
He shakes his head, crossing his heart with the hand not holding your weapon. "Promise," he responds, but you don't trust it. Not until you see him in action.
Caleb can't figure it out.
He's dodged most of your combos, your left fist considerably weaker than your right. Has to be her stronger hand, he thought when he cleared another punch aimed for his jaw. He even landed a small jab to your ribs after one too many exertions left you open in a reckless move.
Yet you're still standing.
You remain stubbornly active in the fight all the same, throwing more hits out and blocking where you can like you haven't exhausted enough energy already. Caleb has to respect the moxie you possess. It's admirable for any soldier to continue on in the presence of an opponent who outnumbers them in a multitude of ways.
You won't win; he knows this. But the hope in your eyes—coupled with the thought that you still believe you can—confuses Caleb further.
He likes your eagerness to find his weak spot in the fight, the vulnerable point that will give you the upper hand. It begs the question of what he still has yet to learn and admire about you. This then leaves him in a stalemate with his original set of unanswerable questions: Who are you? What is it about you that's pulling me in? Why do you remind me of someone I don't want to remember?
Caleb's questions turn into frustration as the fight carries on. He regrets starting this at all. He wishes now you would concede and admit defeat, throw down your arms and stop stirring up the contents of his heart that have sat comfortably untouched for so long.
He could finish this dance and let all of it go, accepting the fact his curiosity will peak here with no definite resolution to his inquiries.
Still—
"Damnit, just quit already," Caleb barks. He hits and blocks faster in an attempt to drain what's left of your stamina.
You laugh, the sound deflated from your fatigue but still possessing a spark of challenge. "That'd be too easy."
Caleb doesn't recognize he's pinned you down to the floor with both his body and gravity evol until he feels the rubber of the floor mats against his calloused fingertips. You gasp in surprise when you fight to get up with no success, his evol keeping you supine. Your reaction spurs more of his irritation to the surface, the emotion rising faster than he's prepared for.
"You have no self preservation, do you?" he asks with bite. His body is equal parts taut and tense above you. Both arms rest on either side of your face as he tries regaining his composure. His chest bumps yours with every respective inhale and exhale you both take.
You smirk up at him. "Just enough, Colonel."
A metal bard pricks Caleb’s side, thankfully not yet piercing his skin. With each inch pressing harder into his skin, it cuts through his tank and the threat of it puncturing his skin is unnerving. But you don’t let it, not when you’re the one controlling it.
Caleb may not know much about you, but he estimates you won't go so far as to kill him during the first week on the job. At least, he doesn't think you will.
He huffs a breath of surprise, his interest spiked more than before. "Your file never said anything about an evol."
A corner of your mouth quirks up, and his breath catches. "Nobody ever asked."
He feels like a teenager again, caught sneaking out by his Gran or flunking a big exam. To name the ticking in his chest feels impossible. The time bomb is indecipherable, one Caleb doesn't know the wiring for.
"Ninety-seven."
Your eyebrows quirk, the skin between them folding. Caleb commits the expression to his memory without meaning to. It's too cute, somehow. "What?"
"My accuracy. It's ninety-seven," he whispers. His lips are a few feet away from yours that are molded into a small grin. Both of your sweat-covered faces sit a handful of breaths apart.
It's unprofessional, his behavior. From using his company clearance to dig into your file to training with you like this, he sees every misstep he's taken to get to this point and recognizes what an idiot he is. He should pull away quickly before he moves any closer, and he knows he will.
But an unnameable force tugs him down, holds him there in the moment for a little bit longer. He's helpless; the damn weighted bomb in his chest won't let him escape.
You look around the room in a clear display of nerves, unsure how to continue. "I need to get back to the armory. Ty will be looking for me."
Caleb nods like he's ready to let you go. His own survival skills kick in, telling him to sit up and step away from you. "I'd say," he starts while recollecting himself, "your evol would be incredibly useful in battle. I'll update your file to reflect this fact and consider your potential for upcoming missions."
You rub your sore arms and wrists as you acknowledge his words. "Noted, Colonel. Thank you."
He clears his throat suddenly, hiding the blush of his cheeks behind his fist. "Caleb is fine, Lieutenant. I think we've skipped the need for titles when we're in situations like this."
"And what situations are those?" you jest.
Caleb chuckles. You ride the ebb and flow of his emotions like a wave, your banter a match for his without much effort. He likes that, too, maybe a little too much. "When we're alone, I guess."
You giggle too, so softly he thinks he imagines the sound. You stand up from the floor with weak limbs, but you manage to extend a hand to him in agreement. "Also noted, Caleb."
Caleb may not understand it or you just yet, but once he does, he'll be able to put it to bed for good without issue. Only then will he feel less tepid, less like something inside of him has just cracked.
Caleb wasn't kidding when he said he would consider you for future missions because of your evol. It was only a month into your new position when your squadron became a staple of the fleet's recent set of cleanup jobs and intergalactic conquests. You liked to assume it was by your own merits and not due to the glowing recommendation Caleb passed to his higher-ups, but you knew better.
Slowly, you proved you were capable of more than even Caleb anticipated. Despite your efforts, it didn't stop conspiratory eyes passing over you when you and the colonel were in the same vicinity. He sure gets close whenever she's around, don't you think?
The murmurs of your comrades couldn't keep you from doing your job, though. It may have chipped at your patience day after day, but you could only show so much of your crumbling resolve. You initially believed the fleet was all about space travel and battlefields. Now, you realize it's a tightrope of commands and surface-level courtesy, a constant rotating door of fighting and pony-showing.
The return to Skyhaven for a few days is necessary, to say the least.
Exhausted and drained, you slept in until noon the first day you arrived home and ate takeout alone for the first time in months. You could do as you see fit, with nobody to answer to or have under your wing. Your apartment is as messy as you left it, but you prefer it that way.
And now, walking through the city via the intricate skyway bridge, your battery recharges with every step. Almost thirty hours ago on the aircraft you called your second home, you were on the verge of fraying from the ever-present spotlight. Now, you can be a silent spectator without a title or set of responsibilities. It may be for only a few more days, but it's enough.
As you watch the cotton-candy clouds adorning the dusk sky, your mind wanders around the same unrelated subject. What’s Caleb doing now? Is he enjoying time off? Did he opt out of a home visit? Is he still working?
Maybe you shouldn't be thinking of your boss's boss in this manner, but you have to assume it's normal given how much time you spend together. Besides, neither him nor anyone of importance is around to tease you, so what does it matter?
"Galileo, wait!"
The second before you’re given the chance to shout, a gargantuan German shepherd tackles you, forcing your back to the ground with her forepaws. The pup, apparently named Galileo, brushes her brown and black fur against your cheeks, sniffing and licking your face as you sit up by your elbows. Why she opted for kisses as a greeting to a random stranger instead of a bite, you don’t know.
But you recognize the owner in question like the back of your hand. He runs up to the both of you, his eyes blazing with horror. "Shit—Gal, come here!"
At Caleb’s command, Galilea jumps off your lap, circles around him, and sits perfectly in front of him with a pleased expression. Her tails wags as she awaits Caleb’s behind-the-ear scratches. Clearly, she loves him, letting you finally release the chuckle caught in your throat from meeting her.
Caleb joins in on your laughter with his own. This time, it's not accompanied by the cockiness or calculation you're used to. It's carefree, light but stuffed with pleasant surprise.
You quirk an eyebrow up at him. "Is this how you charm women? Stick your dog on them?"
He extends a hand out to you, chest still rumbling with humor. "Only the pretty ones. Can't help Gal for knowing the difference."
You're about to bite back with a snarky comment—Oh, so you think I'm pretty, Colonel Xia?—until you flinch.
You feel the burn from your palm coming into contact with his, realizing your skin is covered in scrapes from the fall. What felt like nothing from the fall now feels like the sting of a thousand papercuts.
"Damn," he exclaims. "You need to disinfect those now." He helps you up by the elbow rather than the hand, so gently you think he's mistaking you for a feather instead of a full-sized adult. His gaze lands on the towering apartments at the bottom of the bend. "We need to get you back so you can get cleaned up."
"Yeah, I have a first-aid kit in—" A sudden realization cuts your sentence short. "Caleb. Did you look up where I live in your intel-gathering mission?"
Caleb smirks. "Gotta be thorough, right?" He releases you to tug on Galileo's leash, signaling for her to start walking again. As you both follow suit, Caleb says, "Besides, you can't be upset at me. That's no way to treat your neighbor."
Some time after the two of you make it to Caleb’s door and you stand by as he rifles through his cabinets, he appears from the bathroom with bandages and ointment in his hands, his steps quick and deliberate. "This won't take long."
You giggle to yourself, stifling the laughter with the back of your hand. When a crease forms in his brow, you say, "Why do I get the feeling you've said that line before?"
Caleb chuckles and brushes you on his way past you, patting the spot next to him on the couch once he sits down. "Careful, Y/N. I don't think it's wise of you to make assumptions."
Caleb's apartment in the building opposite of yours is immaculate, not a speck of dust or any embarrassingly opaque stains in sight. He expects absolute precision when you're on the base, so it shouldn't be a shock he's as regimented in his everyday life.
Galileo settles near Caleb's feet as he inspects the wounds on your hands. "They're really shallow. Shouldn't need more than a few days of bandaids and antibiotic cream."
You huff a breath. "Didn't think you could pass yourself off as a doctor, too."
He rolls his eyes playfully. "I know a guy, who actually is a doctor. Taught me a few tricks before I joined the fleet."
You hiss when the first splash of ointment coats your cuts. The pain ebbs once Caleb rubs the cream in, the numbing agent working quickly. "Better?" he asks.
"Much. Thank you."
He hums, pleased by your gratitude. He takes a bandage and begins unwrapping it, careful not to tear the plaster. Your eyes flit across his living room as he works on your hands. Many see him as an enigma, an uncrackable puzzle. But sitting between his legs as he mends the cuts still spotting with blood, you realize there's two men in Caleb Xia that only few people get the opportunity to witness.
This fear-inducing colonel, someone who you initially found to be far too patronizing, is one half of him. He takes no prisoners, does not ask before he does, and seems to chill every man below him to the bone. Yet, this part, the Caleb that is often hidden from public view, intrigues you to no end.
He has few friends yet clearly dotes on his dog, many chew toys on the floor the only form of disarray in his space. He plays his role in the sky with domination and smugness, yet has shown intense care for you that goes well beyond normal boundaries. And, funnily enough, he seems to be incredibly efficient at assembling airplane models, many plastic aircrafts lining his bookshelves.
You don't know this Caleb like you do the colonel, and yet it feels like you could figure out what makes this version tick easily if given more time. And you want to discover those ticks, so much it rattles you. Maybe it's because some part of you recognizes his framework, his ease with being comfortable alone. Or maybe it's because he gives you the same inquisitive stares you're starting to throw his way.
Is he as curious to understand you, too?
"Wanna share your thoughts with the class?" Caleb asks with a close-mouthed grin. A dimple pops out from his cheek, one you didn't notice before.
"What made you want to join the fleet?"
Caleb laughs, but it's entirely artificial. It's too measured, more careful than careless. You can tell the difference by now. "I thought I would find answers to this thing that happened to me a long time ago. And once I realized I wouldn't, that it was a dead end that didn't really have a resolution, it was too late to turn back. Now, I like the shiny attire and equipment."
You giggle at the tail-end of his answer. "Is that why you climbed up the ranks so quickly? Because you were on a search for something that mattered to you?"
"That, and I'm devastatingly handsome. Who wouldn't want to see me in a colonel's uniform?"
The smile on your lips doesn't wane, but the remainder of his answer comes back to the forefront of your mind. His need to repair what broke him a long time ago flicks at one of your subconscious nerves viciously, although you don't show it on your face. He senses it though, looking up at you with those violet eyes brimming with curiosity. You know he wants to know how you would answer without him having to repeat your question back to you.
"I wanted to belong," you confess. "I've always been very out of place, no matter how hard I tried to fit in. At school, at the foster home…" You trail off, immediately regretting sharing such a private part of your life. Caleb may be friendly, but is he truly a friend, someone more akin to Ty than Damien or Gideon? "The fleet's always given me structure, a purpose to fulfill, friends that understand what it's like to struggle and succeed together. Ty used to think it was crazy to like being on the brink of death all the time, but—it's better than being alive and alone."
You hoped Caleb wouldn't laugh at you or craft a funny comment in response to your honesty, but you're more than relieved to find your hope in him wasn't misplaced. All he does is nod and continue fixing up your hand, a solemn expression dressing his face. "I didn't grow up in a traditional home, either. I had a caretaker and…a sibling, but…" The muscles in his face tighten, his jaw bone practically protruding from the skin. He has to be biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from going completely over the edge. You've never seen him like this, skating past his usual composure to leave himself incredibly open.
You shake your head at him, unable to see him torture himself further. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I thought since you told me the truth, it's only right to do the same."
The smile Caleb gives you in response upends all the contents of your stomach, stuff that has to be the makings of both butterflies and livewires. As he takes your bandaged hand in his, his breathing regulates itself as your skin touches. He rubs the outer edges of your palm with his thumb, and your previous regret eases a little. It makes you believe the needle is moving closer to friendship, to being safe in your vulnerability. Maybe even something more. You've never been good at emotions or letting them fly freely, but with him, you want to be.
And that makes a piece of you shift back into a place, a piece you believed was buried way before you could give it a home.
An hour into the gala, Caleb's ready to go home.
The liquor tastes too cheap for him to be drinking on purpose. The rooftop venue overlooking the entirety of Skyhaven isn't anything special, sans the twinkling lights surrounding the bar and dance area. And Caleb's schmoozed more than half of the current partygoers a million times before this event, so there's nobody worth impressing tonight.
Worse yet, the person Caleb wants to put his effort into talking to hasn't shown up, and most likely won't.
"Parties aren't my thing," you told him a few days ago on the aircraft, taking you both home for another mandated break. "Besides, it's for some brigadier general's retirement right? Nobody will notice me missing."
Caleb does, though—so much so that your absence twists in his gut. In every search he's done across the sea of faces for your daring eyes and smart mouth, he grows more restless. Does that not matter to you by now?
"Smell this," Gideon interrupts Caleb's thoughts with a drink an inch from his face. The younger guy practically dumps all the liquid onto his boss's jacket in the process of…whatever he's doing.
Caleb sets his whiskey sour down on a nearby glass table. "Man, kiss my ass."
"Seriously! That battlefield medic Anya gave it to me, and I can't tell if it's laced with a love drug or something."
Caleb sniffs the rim lightly. Nothing out of the ordinary to report, but it's cute how inept his subordinate is to this stuff. "Smells like a classic strawberry margarita to me."
Gideon huffs. "You say it like I shouldn't be concerned."
"Because you shouldn't be. Be grateful someone's interested in buying you a drink in the first place."
"Says the guy who hasn't gotten any since his DAA days," Gideon spits back before taking a sip of his margarita.
Caleb has the next barb on his tongue, prepared to strike Gideon like a viper eager for an easy kill, but it disintegrates. He can't be bothered with a comeback now, not as he loses all sense of gravity seeing you walk through the double doors like a vision.
Your dress, bordering between modest and suggestive, is the richest red Caleb’s ever seen. Like a ripe apple ready to be plucked from a tree. The silk hugs your curves while the drop sleeves show off your shoulders and neckline—a mouthwatering view.
Caleb shouldn't look at you like a dog with a bone dangling in the air in wait, but he doesn’t remember why. Even if he did, would it matter? He’ll gravitate back regardless, the instinct to admire you like second nature. It’s easy, letting you to steal every coherent thought from his grasp. All that matters right now is you and the garment that's inducing his lust-filled eyes and dry mouth that begs for some form of relief.
No— not just any relief. Caleb knows this, knows the name of the remedy he seeks. But he doesn't know if it's worth it to cross that line, lay himself bare for you when he's been burned before.
Then again, he was burned for not risking anything back then. Perhaps he should do the opposite this time.
Just as he's about to greet you, he sees an underling that he knows too well creeping over to steal the honor first.
Caleb's body has to be on fire from the way the sight in front of him eats at his flesh. Jace Lee, a major above your rank but leagues away from Caleb, pulls grins and giggles from you like a charlatan with a cheap magic trick. And you feed into his ploys, entertaining a man that isn't Caleb with no hesitancy.
He wants to scream, kiss the idiot's jaw with his fist, and pull you away from this place without a second thought. The feelings that bubble to the surface are almost foreign. He hasn't felt this way since…well…
He downs his whiskey in a few sips before excusing himself from Gideon's side. He saunters to you and Jace, and he sees your demeanor change. It's a lot clearer now, the curtain lifting with every step. Jace is a courtesy, a polite conversation you have to entertain. But when you see Caleb coming over, your amiable smile becomes one of challenge and eagerness just for him.
It can't be in his head what he's witnessing change before him. "Jace, pleasure to see you. Apologies for missing you before." Jace eagerly takes the higher-ups hand. Caleb lets the idea of clenching down with a vice-grip level of strength pass across his brain. He can't be an asshole right now, not when you're this close.
Caleb then takes your hand and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, his own action creating an electric tingle in his spine. "You clean up exceptionally well."
Trying to hide the new color on your cheeks is of no use, but he finds you captivating all the same. "Thank you, Colonel. Actually, Jace and I were talking about a new carrier mission planned for next month. Can I find you later?”
As if you needed to ask.
Caleb retracts his hand and nods all the same. His heart rests in his mouth as he walks away to leave you to your conversation. It remains there, heavy and pulsing, when he walks to the bar to order a glass of vodka.
Caleb shouldn’t feel jealous right now. He thought his jealousy ended with the thoughts he had long ago about MC, his heart a tangle of emotions he had no words to justify unraveling back then. Now, you’re the cause for his undoing, and he’s unsure how to reconcile the war in his heart.
He orders another drink with a shot of tequila. The alcohol burns as it slides down his throat, but it doesn’t matter to him. He’ll drink anything if it helps to take the sting away from his racing thoughts and unkempt feelings.
Caleb stirs in his bed with the urge to rise quickly and find you. He’s unsure how he’ll get up with a dull ache in his skull from all the drinks he consumed, but all he knows is that he can't take it anymore—the unsaid words, the tension in every sinew that he’s composed of, the way he yearns for you.
In the haze of liquor, he remembers your arms wrapped around him on your way into his apartment, body hefty but his thoughts heavier as he came through the door.
“You looked really pretty tonight. I forgot to say so. I mean—You always look beautiful, but this dress is…” He ran his fingers over the material, each passing of his hands against the silk torturous.
“Thank you, Colonel.” Your giggle caused a deep knot in his chest.
“I wanted to kiss you the second you walked into the bar,” he confessed, bashful despite the boldness of his words. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, actually.”
Your body tensed as you dropped him on the bed, but you still ran your fingers through his hair, admiring each gold-spun strand like a treasure.
“Sleep it off, Caleb.” You looked at him so gently; it drove him crazy to not press his lips to yours then and there. “Tell me all of this when your head's clear in the morning.”
Nothing could have kept him from remembering every word and action. He’d say it all again on a loop if you wanted him to. He tossed and turned in his bed two hours after that, willing the fog of alcohol to clear from his brain. If he waited and saw it pass, then he could do what he's wanted to this entire frustratingly slow night.
He definitely can’t wait until morning. That's not possible.
Now, with a semi-sober head and a chest overflowing with desire, right now, he needs to know for sure what you want before he goes any crazier.
He tiptoes into the living room on bare feet, trying to stay quiet but still focused on his mission. His heart clenches seeing you belly-down on his couch, snoring lightly with no blanket or pillow to provide you comfort.
The guilt creeps down his body for leaving you in this state while he was buzzed, but relief runs straight past it once he realizes you didn't leave for a reason.
You wanted to stay; he can't imagine the pain he would've felt if you hadn't.
He sits on the ottoman nearby and runs his fingertips over your cheek, his feelings firm on his palate yet partially stuck in his throat. Saying the words came so easily with liquid courage, yet repeating them is like walking through quicksand.
"Wake up, bluebird," he whispers. The only other sounds outside of his voice are your gurgles and whines from being pulled from your dream.
The minute your eyes open, a hazy smile creeps past your teeth. He feels his heart ease and jackhammer in the same second.
You rise from your spot with a yawn. "How are you—"
Caleb doesn't give you a chance to continue your question. He presses both hands to either side of your neck and acts rather than thinks, slamming his lips down onto yours.
The moan that slips past his mouth when he presses his tongue to the roof of yours is instinctual; it's too good to keep quiet about. He presses you into the cushions behind your head as he kisses you deeper and longer without reservation. Maybe the key to the courage he needs is savoring every bit of you he can before releasing it all verbally.
When you part, a string of saliva connects your mouths together, and he almost groans again at the sight. He wants to go back to kissing you breathless and forgetting the rest of the world around you both exists, but he needs to say the words again so you know he means it.
“You told me to tell you this when I had a clearer head," he whispers. "And I think it’s more than clear now.”
One breath to focus on the present moment. Another to quiet the fear. And one more for good measure.
"I want you. I've wanted you for weeks, and I can't stop myself. So don't ask me to…unless it's not what you want." A piece of his heart withers at the thought that your first kiss could also be your last, but he continues on. "I'll do my best to walk away and we can stay friends, but if you feel the way I do, let me give you all of me. Because it's killing me not to."
By the end, he isn't sure if he's breathing. With the quiet contemplation on your face, he's questioning if you're breathing as well. Dying on that couch in front of you wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks, forever eager to know the thoughts swimming in your mind. If he has to go out that way, so be it.
Then, one side of your mouth quirks up, and he thinks he might see another day of existence. "Show me how much you want me."
Your words are his wreckage and his freedom.
In a flash, your dress is draped over the ottoman like it’s worthless. Caleb's an inspector by nature, a pilot who looks on all sides before committing to a course of action. He has to admire each line of your body with a kiss. Take his time with each pass or squeeze of his hand on your skin.
He pays great attention to your chest specifically, kneading one breast as he keeps the opposite one's nipple in his mouth. Sucking, biting, tugging. He's not innocent, and you should've known the second you met him. But it's another thing to experience the sin he's eagerly providing, and he doesn't mind teaching you every lesson he has to offer.
You're incoherent by the time his hands rest on your hips, mumbling and moaning in a language he gathers isn't English. He's itching to take your panties off, but is too enraptured by the wetness that's soaking through the fabric to do so.
"You're drenched, sweetheart." Caleb kisses the damp spot on your underwear, your puffy clit thrumming from the sensation of his lips, even through the cotton barrier. "This all for me?"
You nod like it's all you know how to do, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. "Only for you."
He chuckles darkly and pulls the panties to the side. His tongue licks a fat stripe across your folds, taking its sweet time on the trail up to your clit. A wanton sigh escapes your lips from the sensation.
Another laugh escapes him from your eagerness to meet his lips with your center. “You’ve never felt this way before, have you, sweetheart?” he asks between more licks and slurps. “Nobody’s ever touched your pussy like this?”
“Shut up,” you respond breathlessly. He continues on, lost in lust and admiration for your body. Why did it take so long to get to this point?
"You like it, beautiful?" Caleb asks rhetorically, knowing the answer in the way you raise your hips to meet his face. "Do you like how my tongue feels?"
"Yes, yes—oh fuck—yes." It must be hard to form logical sentences once he slips a finger through your wetness. He sets a pace meant to scissor you open thoroughly. What will it be like when his cock is inside of you? It makes him ache between his lungs thinking about it.
His mouth wraps around your clit as your walls clench around his digit, eager to keep it inside when he retracts. "You’re sucking me in so well." Caleb admires the view, his hand exiting and entering you like it's where it's always meant to be. "Maybe I'll keep you like this forever. Never let you leave and fuck you stupid every second of the day." Another drag of his tongue against your clit, and your breath hitches. "Do you want that beautiful? Want to be here with me?"
"Of course, please," you plead. "Oh god, please let me be yours, Caleb. Will you let me?" Most girls confessing such a thing would blush something scalding, but you don't care an inch or a mile. You just want him to let you fall apart, and he senses it.
The urge to whine threatens your lips as he pulls himself off you, but it dies when he yanks his suit pants and underwear down in one swoop. Pre-cum coats the tip of his cock, the skin of his length red and throbbing. He's ravenous by now, his patience up to this point kept him at bay to prepare you for what's been coming. What he's been so eager for the second he pinned you down in that training room.
"I want to feel you around me when you come," he whispers before taking another kiss like a thief in the night. You curse at the taste on his tongue and he hums, pleased in knowing it’s your own arousal.
Tapping the head of his cock against your clit, he coats it in your arousal like he’s dipping a finger into a pot of honey.
When it presses against your gummy walls, Caleb almost comes right there. He doesn't know how he's survived up to this point without knowing how you feel. If this was what was waiting for him all this time, he's a fucking idiot for denying himself. His hip bones press to yours when he's fully inside, sheathed completely despite the tightness encasing his cock.
He wants to move, but he's too busy staring into your twinkling eyes already glazed over from pleasure. Thinking back to your earlier question makes him pulse against your heat.
Will you let me?
He needs to give you the answer before he loses himself in you again. "You never had to ask, beautiful. We've belonged to each other for a long time now." He swallows your resounding cry with his mouth as he thrusts his hips.
It's heavenly, better than any plane ride he's ever taken, the funniest jokes he's ever heard, and all the desserts on the planet combined. It's just the two of you, your bodies glistening in the moonlight and his soul being wrapped up in you like he's wanted it to be since the start.
If this is what it's like to fall, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to hit the ground when it's all over.
He moves at a faster speed, thrusting in and out of you with a precision that is just as sharp as his marksmanship. You bite down on his neck to stop from screaming out in pleasure, and Caleb laughs like he's still drunk. He likes his skin between your teeth more than he imagined.
"That's it, sweetheart," he says between two brutal thrusts. "I want all of it."
All of it you gladly give. Running your nails along his back, you mar the skin there in your quest towards your high. You thrust up and into him with your own hips, and Caleb almost loses it then. You're too good at this, too perfect for even his fantasies. "God, sweetheart, I'm gonna come if you keep it up."
"Do it," you murmur. "Fill me up, Caleb. Give me all of it so I never go without you again."
That does him in, like Icarus flying too close to the sun. He falls without protest or trepidation. And you fall with him, clinging to his shoulders as ropes of his cum coat your insides white. It's warmth, heat, desire overflowing past maximum capacity.
Caleb clings to you in the aftermath like a life preserver, chin in the crook of your shoulder and his hands tightly wrapped around your middle. You feel spent and sticky, but he still litters kisses all over your skin like you're the oasis in the middle of a desert. You've never looked more beautiful.
And when you stare into each other's eyes coming down, your shared arousals seeping out from where you two meet, you both know everything has changed.
"Caleb, I can't breathe. Loosen up," you joke, trying to lighten the mood.
The ends of his sweat-soaked hair tickle your neck as he nuzzles in closer. "I can breathe for the both of us just fine."
"Caleb!" You turn in his hold to protest further, but he steals another kiss from your lips before you can gladly give it. Once again, like a bird called back to its flock, you're lost in him. And, in you, he's found.
He's freed from the fear you're going anywhere without him. The physical reminders you're here keep his doubts at bay.
They keep him from admitting how much of a liar he is. How he's keeping a part of his life from you. How he'll always tuck away the fraction he's certain will make you run from him without a second thought.
omg hi hi i luv ur writing, could u maybe do some hcs for the l&ds men when they want u to sit on their face (fem reader perchance) 🥰 i imagine the reader would be a bit worried about hurting or suffocating them but they just rlly want to make u feel soo good. Thanks & have a lovely dayy!
Sitting On Their Face- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: 18+, suggestive content, filthy filthy smut, MDNI, riding their faces, getting eaten out
a/n: hihi anonnie! when i read this req i was thinking of that one steve harvey video so whenever i wrote a scenario for each character i was like YESSSS SIT ON IT pls tell me someone gets the reference 😭 anyway thank you so much! i hope this was okay and that you enjoy ! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡
any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!
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Xavier:
"Please. Let me take care of you." You look down and you meet his eyes. His gaze on you softening accompanied by a tender smile that never failed to bring you comfort. He rubbed soothing small circles on the back of your thigh to reassure you that you would never cause any harm on him from this position.
With motivation from his large hands on your hips, tentatively you began to lower yourself, feeling his nose against your folds. His tongue movements start off slow and sensual. His tongue moving at a dragging pace while his hands are slowly stroking your thigh.
Your body seems to relax more once you roll your hips, he didn't waste time in licking up your entire cunt. His pace changing as if he needed more of you. His tongue delving between your lips and tasting the sweet and delicious juices he has always been craving for. You lower yourself further on to his face, putting more pressure on his mouth.
Dragging your hips up and down as he stayed in his place while his nose bumped onto your clit and his tongue moved perfectly with every thrust. You panted out loud and hard, losing your breath every time your hips made movement. You kept on moaning and whining, feeling the pit in your stomach getting closer and closer.
It hits you, the waves of euphoria that caused your body to jolt and cunt to contract in pulses. His name leaving your mouth in broken chants, softly spoken in ecstasy. Trying to catch your breath, you sat lightly on his chest to catch sight of Xavier's face.
He looked more fucked out than you and you can see your arousal dripping to his lips to his chin. He licks his lips as he pulls you back to your position, "I didn't get enough, let's do it again."
Zayne:
It's not like he hasn't eaten your pussy out before, he's very familiar in that department. If you were getting seconds thoughts because you were worried you might suffocate him but he would grip your thighs tighter to keep you in place. He would encourage you to put your whole weight onto his face, he does not care what size you are. He wants to be smothered in between your thighs.
"Stay still my love. You won't hurt me." His gaze softens below you, peppering small kisses on your inner thigh to make you relax. "Good girl, lower yourself." He inhales deeply, and exhaled out with a groan. "You smell heavenly. I can't wait to taste you."
He latches onto your pussy and the sight below you was enough to leave you breathless. He was holding onto your thighs with his cold hands, licking and sucking as if a man was starved.
You couldn't manage to say anything else than chanting out his names in moans. Your mind was dazed with pleasure from the way he made you feel. Tasting your sweet juices as he traces the tip of his tongue around your hole. Your pussy twitches as he went deeper inside of you and the pleasure was immeasurable and you wanted more.
You pushed him further into you, lapping up every part of your walls he could. You grip the headboard, leaning forward a little as he continued his mouth work on you. The way he slurped and smacked his tongue as he ate you out sounded as if he was feasting on your sweet pussy.
He continues to fuck you with his tongue, taking up all your juices with each stroke of his tongue. He continues to hold you tightly down on top of you, sucking on your labia as if it was his last meal. You were so close, heat pooling up inside of you. Your body jolts up as your orgasm washes over you and without even realizing it you pushed his face further into your cunt, riding out your orgasm out as you rolled your hips against his face.
"Taste just like heaven." He whispers, kissing the inside of one of your thighs.
Rafayel:
He doesn't mind whatever position you do. As long as his mouth will be on or in you the entire time. If you were worried about you suffocating him, he's quick to brush off that idea. "Puh-lease cutie, you think I'd care about that? I thought you knew me better." He teased, but he was also telling the truth. He doesn't care if you suffocate him. What's a better way to die than drowning in your pussy?
He immediately grabs your thighs and pulls you down to his lips, waves of your arousal washing down on him. He'll burry his nose in your pretty cunt while his tongue gushes with your sweet juices. He'll lock eyes with you, his eyes filled with lust and arousal.
His mouth and tongue feels so good, your fingers tightly lock around his hair while the other hand gripping the headboard. You start to grind your hips harder against him.
You moaned as throwing your head back when sucks on your clit, your legs trembling around his head. You can tell he was enjoying this too from the whimpers he made below you and was sending vibrations to your core.
He keeps a firm grip on your hips, holding you in place as he explores your pussy with his tongue. His continues to thrust in and out of you at a faster pace while his continued to rub against you.
You could feel the heat building up to your body as the pleasure courses through your veins. His mouth did wonders to you and you needed more to meet that sweet release. You grind your hips harder against his face, the knot in the pit of your stomach getting tighter and tighter with each movement of your hips.
He watches in between your thighs as you shut your eyes close from the pleasure. His name leaving your lips in broken pants as you cream all over his face, your legs trembling from intensity of the orgasm. He takes in all of your sweet juices till there's none left.
Sylus:
He has been gladly to go down on you for hours at any time you want. Although he was never pressuring you on doing anything. He was just open to the idea if you were up to it. But oh boy when you were, this man was eager to get down to business.
He'd let out that rich man laugh and flash you a knowing smirk when you were concerned about him getting hurt. It was adorable to him that you think you could do such a thing but he reassured you. "Come on down. Let me make you feel good." He says with his voice thick with lust as he drags his thumbs up your inner thigh as they found their way to your outer lips to spread them open gently.
You bit your lip to suppress that whine begging to leave you as Sylus teases you with thumbs, moving them along your folds lightly before massaging slow circles into your clit. You couldn't take anymore of it and began to lower yourself down on his face. As you slowly let more of your weight fall on him, your legs were shaky as you felt the first swirls of his tongue around your pussy. He took his time exploring you from this angle. Loud wet sounds coming out and you couldn't help but move a little, grinding against his tongue and mouth altogether.
He licked thick stripes along the length of your sex with the flat of his tongue. Eating you out was nothing new to him. He would thrust his tongue into your dripping hole and eventually started to groan against you as he devours your cunt greedily.
He knew your body like the back of his hand. One of his hands slowly snakes up to you from your hips to play with your naked breasts, rolling your nipples to get you to make more nose. He continues to go faster and deeper as he could. Sucking harder on your clit as you hold onto the headboard for support as you try to find your sweet release.
You threw your head back and touched your breasts while focusing on the way his mouth felt on you and all of it was together was heavenly. Biting your lip, you clenched your thighs a little as you felt your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, the pressure growing bigger with every movement of your hips. As you let go of the grip you had on the headboard and lurched forward with both of your hands pressed on the mattress as you panted and rocked your hips needily against his moans. Shaky moans slipping through your own lips one after another as you ride out your high. With a skillful mouth, he drinks up all of your juices as you soaked his mouth and chin. "What do you say we do another?"
est. relationship. Caleb x Reader. early relationship. love and deepspace
Where you realize that despite being the big bad Colonel of the Farspace Fleet. Caleb can still be a bit childish sometimes.
You were angry. Berating him for being so reckless and stupid during a deepsapce mission. It was comical, watching a small thing like you scold the Colonel of the farspace fleet.
There you were with you're hands on your hips towering overing his muscled form by merely and inch or two even as his sat. He could see your mouth moving, your furrowed brows and exasperated eyes. Yet he heard nothing and he hopes you won't notice. Maybe a few words came through like "Idiot!, not thinking! and dummy Caleb!"
All he knows that his brain only wants to focus on more important things like how your soft lips looks so plump and glossy-a new lip gloss, maybe? how your eyes seem to glow and sparkle under the sunlight. He has wholeheartedly accepted that that shade was his favorite color ever since you were kids. And your hair? and that scent? It makes him unconsciously move closer to you. His hands twitching, just aching to touch you.
"Caleb! Are you even liste-"
"How mad would you be if I kissed you right now?" He grins up at you, brushing up his hair. Not a single serious thought behind those eyes.
You stutter with your words. "Wha- are you- stop distracting me." Shaking your head, you take a deep breath trying to stablelize yourself despite the obvious blush creeping up your face. "Really mad."
"I'll apologize later." Before you could protest he closes the distance between your lips, pulling you closer by the waist as he angles his head to kiss you deeper, longer. Trapping you between his legs so you wont pull away too fast. Your hands snake through his hair, moaning softly into his mouth. His lips were so desperate, so eager to taste what you'd allow him.
The sound of your lips echoed a bit throughout your empty apartment. You tried to pull away but kissing him came as naturally to you as breathing air. It was an automatic response.
After a hot minute, You manage to pull away a bit, "Caleb, we nee-" He cuts you off with another kiss, voice husky and deep, "just a bit more."
Some part of you wants to give in, but one of you had to be a responsible adult. Suprisingly, it wasn't Caleb. With your hunter training you somehow managed to pry yourself away from his grubby hands.
"Pipsqueak! A few more seconds." And slight pout decorated his face as his eyes droop comically. He looked like a kicked puppy.
Coughing, you tried and failed to appear stern especially with your face still red. "Caleb, you can't just kiss while Im scolding you! And I was being serious, you can't even listen to me for one minute?!"
"I swear I was listening!"
You glare at him. "No, you weren't. You were too busy ogling me."
So you did notice. Heh. He looks away innocently. "I can't help it if my girlfriend's so pretty I can't focus."
"Caleb."
As a punishment, you decided to lecture him a good 5 meters away.
AN: first time writing for Caleb. I dont know if I wrote him right.
