A/N: There is slight tension and fruitiness between Caleb and Sylus in honor of Pride Month, so if you aren't comfy with that, its totally okay, but this work isn't for you! 𐙚
Caleb and Sylus both agreed on one thing, they had spoiled you rotten.
You knew exactly how to get your way with a stomp of your foot and a bit of incessant whining. They both had a massive soft spot for you, and you absolutely abused it. On the rare occasion that one of them actually stood his ground and denied you something, you simply went running to the other. Without fail, you always ended up getting what you wanted.
So there you were, flopped unceremoniously across Sylus’s bed, dramatically huffing and taking your frustrations out on his pillows. You made sure your tantrum was obvious to the white-haired man sitting at his desk, casually flipping through documents. He looked up at your theatrics, a hint of amusement playing on his face.
Seeing that your efforts were going to waste, you decided to kick it up a notch. You paused all your dramatic thrashing and sat up on the bed, going dead silent. The sudden lack of noise instantly caught Sylus’s attention. That's when you brought out the big guns. With a perfectly timed sniffle, crocodile tears began streaming down your cheeks. Sylus, defeated by your dirty tactics, tossed his documents onto the desk. He sighed, making his way over to the bed before pulling your body against his chest, enveloping you in a warm hug.
"Alright, alright," he murmured, his deep voice vibrating against your ear as he stroked your hair. "We’ll get you your pet wolf. Don't cry now, kitten."
The next of your schemes involved sneaking to the kitchen at 3 am in the morning, staying as quiet as possible as you tiptoed across the cold floors. You opened the fridge and retrieved the goods, and right as you thought you had gotten away with it, you heard someone behind you. Goddammit.
You turned around guiltily to find Caleb standing there, leaning against the wall, shirtless and looking like he had just woken up. Ice cream in hand, you flashed him a nervous smile. "Pips, you know you can't have that so late at night," he scolded gently. Your instincts kicked in immediately. You pouted, hugging the tub close to your chest as you gave him your signature puppy eyes. "But Caleb, pleaseee... I've been craving it." Giving in, Caleb walked over and ruffled your hair with a sigh. "Fine, but not too much, okay?"
And just like that, victory was yours. Half the time, you made ridiculous requests just to test their limits, to see exactly how far they would bend to keep you happy. they were well aware of this fact too. But unbeknownst to you, Caleb and Sylus had recently made a plan. Deciding they officially had enough of your shit with the way your asks became more absurd by the day, they knew they needed to teach their bratty little girl a lesson.
It was a day like any other, you woke up with a slow, heavy stretch, yawning your way out of bed and heading downstairs. In the kitchen, your two boyfriends were already occupying their usual spots. Caleb was making breakfast, while Sylus leaned against the counter, mindlessly popping cherries into his mouth and scrolling through his phone. Scurrying over to Caleb, you leaned over his shoulder, trying to peer into the pan. "I'm almost done, pips. Go sit down," he murmured, not looking up. You blinked down at the eggs sizzling in the pan, and like second nature, felt defiance bubbling up. You looked up at him with a sparkle in your eyes. "But Caleb, I'm craving pancakes today." Right as you expected to watch him immediately pivot to indulge your craving, he did the exact opposite. Caleb glanced down at you, held your gaze for a flat second, and deadpanned, "Nope."
That caught you completely off guard. "Wha-?" It wasn't the kind of "no" that felt negotiable. It wasn't a "maybe" with extra steps. This "no" felt definitive. As you stood there, jaw slightly slack and confused, Caleb simply reached out, picked you up by the waist like a doll, and set you down next to the kitchen island. "Sit down," he ordered softly.
For once, you actually obeyed, slipping into the seat next to Sylus as if in a trance. Caleb caught your expression and let out a smug smirk.
A few moments later, Caleb began setting the plates down on the island. Still reeling from the pancake rejection, your eyes drifted over to the bowl of juicy cherries Sylus was snacking on.
"Can I have som-"
"No."
Before the sentence could even clear your throat, Sylus cut you off. He didn't even look your way as he answered, instead, he popped another cherry between his lips, holding it between his teeth as he leaned back, his gaze locking directly onto Caleb.
Wordlessly, Caleb moved across the space, leaning over the counter to meet him. He closed the distance and took the cherry right from Sylus's mouth, their teeth clashing in a quiet click. They both tried not to laugh at the sight of you looking like a kicked puppy.
The rest of the day went on just like that, a rebellion was what it was. By evening, you were left thoroughly frustrated by the mountain of rejections that had accumulated all day. You could tell something was up, but you knew they couldn't keep this up forever. So, you decided to stage your own overthrow.
When nighttime finally arrived, you got into bed a little earlier than usual. You could hear the steady rush of water from the shower Caleb was running in the bathroom, while Sylus was finishing up some work in his office. Smirking to yourself, you slowly stripped down to just your underwear, a lacy pair you knew that they were weak for. Settling back against the pillows, you slowly spread your thighs and gave a few exploratory flicks to your clit. Mmm. As you started to play with yourself, your fingers spread your folds, rubbing gently before plunging two fingers shallowly inside.
Despite always catering to your every wish and whim, Sylus and Caleb had one strict rule for you, hands off yourself. You knew not to cross this– you never had a reason to anyway, not with two utterly devoted men ready to give you more pleasure than you could ever give yourself. But after a day of them teasing and denying you, you didn't see why you couldn't play their game as well.
Soft moans spilled from your lips, juices leaking through as you could feel yourself getting hotter. Right then, you heard heavy footsteps moving through the hallway outside. Grinning, you worked yourself even harder now. Sylus, on the other hand, reached the outside of the room and knew immediately something was up; he felt your sweet scent filling the air, your faint gasps barely heard. Seems kitten is playing dirty.
Walking inside, he locked eyes with you, only for you to scrunch your eyebrows and put on even more of a show, cunt in full display. And right on cue, Caleb walked out of the bathroom, skin glistening and a towel hanging off his waist. The moment he caught on to the events occurring in the room, he flashed Sylus an unhinged smile.
Your mind had dissolved into absolute mush. Overstimulated as you were kept on your hands and knees, your back arched deeply as Sylus relentlessly drove into you from behind.
You had lost track of how many times you'd finished already, yet there were no signs of stopping. Caleb, meanwhile, was in front of you, admiring the glisten on your face and lips from the previous load he shot up that he was still recovering from, panting with his abs clenching.
You felt another intense orgasm coursing through you, cum and juice spilling out further as your pussy spasmed around Sylus, but this only prompted him to go faster. Tears streaming uncontrollably now, your knuckles turned white with how hard you were gripping the sheets, and you looked up at Caleb, almost pleading with him to reason with Sylus. Almost like Sylus figured out your ploy, he snapped your hips back against him harshly. “Oh no no no, he’s not gonna help you, sweetheart.” Caleb could only grin, giving you a mock pity look. “Aw, is pips tired? Should’ve thought of that before you decided to break the rules, no?” He looked over to Sylus. “Sy, my turn now.” Panting, Sylus plunged balls deep all the way into your cervix one last time before he pulled out completely, manhandling you to switch positions.
Now you were sitting upright, your back leaning against Sylus with your legs being held up and apart by his veiny arms. Caleb took his position immediately, feeding you his cock from the front, his forehead dropping to your shoulder, a tad overstimulated from his earlier release. Sylus, looking at the vulnerable puppy boy, couldn't help but reach out and caress the side of his face, his fingers running through his slightly damp hair. Caleb only subconsciously leaned into his touch all the while plunging completely inside of you, moving in shallow, ragged thrusts.
Then Sylus had an idea. Nipping at your shoulder, his fingers still tangled in Caleb's hair, he gripped a bit tighter, grabbing his attention. “You think she's ready for it?”
“Huh? fuck– yeahyeaheyeah,” Caleb mumbled incoherently, looking absolutely pussydrunk by the way you clenched around him. You were confused. “Sy? Wha- what do you mean ready? Ready for what?” you panted, and right then, you felt something poke at your virgin back entrance. Fuck me, you thought.
Gathering all the slick from your combined releases and giving you a spit of his own, Sylus made sure you were well-lubricated before he attempted the intrusion. It felt weird in the start– an unfamiliar feeling– but you knew better than to oppose it. You were completely at their mercy.
Soon enough, Caleb and Sylus found a shared rhythm, breaching your holes at the same time and building up an insane amount of pressure, slick sounds and moans filling the room. Even Sylus, who wasn't normally vocal in bed, was groaning and whimpering, and in no time, another orgasm ripped through you. “Fuck— yes baby, give it all to me. Come on, I know you can give me more,” you weren't even sure who was talking to you at that point.
Hours dissolved into an exhaustive blur as positions were shifted and forced upon you. You were floating in and out of consciousness. You all looked like a litter of bunnies going at it for so long. You were tired, and just let them move you around for their own pleasure; their combined stamina was ungodly. You could feel your womb bulging with all the semen pumped into you, and finally, with bruising thrusts, they came at the same time, collapsing back against the bed.
God, Smiling in your fucked out state, all you could think was, you still got what you wanted.
♡ Bunny's Note: I'm a tad bit late with this one, thank you for being patient with me! I had to get out of my comfort zone for this one because I explored tropes and dynamics I wouldn't normally, but I hope you enjoyed this! Any suggestions are always appreciated! ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎
TW. virginity loss. piv sex, unprotected sex, titty sucking😛, creampie, guys this is so much freaking longer than i meant for it to be like i just kept going im sorry unread and unedited btw lol sowwy
caleb joining a frat just made sense. he wasn’t a fuckboy by any means, but with his natural charisma and unfairly good looks, you were shocked he hadn’t rushed one earlier. truthfully, he never really wanted to join one, he didn’t see the point—not until he found out you’d be attending the same university. thinking of you, the girl he grew up with on the same campus, going to parties with drunk idiots who would eye you up the second you walked in…greek life didn’t seem so stupid anymore. if you were going to be surrounded by all of that anyway, caleb figured he’d rather be there too—close enough to keep an eye on you and make sure everyone knew exactly who you belonged to.
that logic is what lead you to caleb’s frat tonight, standing in the corner of a packed living room that reeked of weed and beer. you searched for him in the crowd of people, increasingly self conscious of how underdressed you were. he told you it was a little ‘get-together’—he knew how much you hated parties, but as you saw more girls walk in wearing satin mini dresses, the more you thought about leaving.
just as you began to form an apology text in your head, you felt a much taller figure slide next to you, holding a cup out in your direction.
“there she is” caleb’s voice spoke, still gentle even as he practically shouted to be heard among all the noise. you squealed before jumping into a hug and wrapping your arms around his neck. he chuckled and melted into your embrace, tapping your head with the cup he brought for you. “don’t make me spill this on my sweater. nice to know moving away didn’t stop you from stealing my clothes”
you rolled your eyes before grabbing the cup, still standing before him. “first of all, i took this a while ago. second…i couldn’t find you, was about to leave”
he smiled at how shy you looked, one hand coming to ruffle your hair. “well im here now, right?”. you nodded, looking around again and appreciating just how much caleb fit in here. he wore a flannel over his white shirt, the apple necklace you gifted him years ago shining against his chest in the dark room. “whatcha thinkin’ about pips?”
you blushed at the nickname he gave you as kids, shrugging before taking a sip of your drink to help calm your nerves. the second the fluid hit your tongue though, you recoiled at its bitter taste. “what’s in this?”
caleb laughed as he took a sip from his cup. “whatever i found…listen it doesn’t taste good but it gets you drunk so?”
you laughed at his terrible reasoning before downing the rest, asking him to get you a refill and following him into the kitchen. he filled your cup as you began to feel the alcohol warm you up, your cheeks slightly flushing and anxiety finally melting away as you started to relax. you watched caleb turn towards you with two cups in his hands.
“so…how’s your first week been?” he came to stand before you, shielding you from the hordes of people bumping into each other behind him. you shrugged while focusing on the liquid in your cup, watching it slosh around before letting your eyes trail caleb’s figure. it had only been a year since you last saw him—he had too many commitments to come back and visit your home town during the summer, but in that little time he had changed so much.
his arms filled out the flannel he wore, your eyes looking at the fabric practically straining and wondering where else he was just barely containing himself.
“jus’ fine…classes are boring and no one’s as cool as you” your words began to trail off towards the end of your sentence, but you knew caleb heard you—he could tune out every background sound if you were the one talking. he bit his lip to suppress a laugh, one hand coming to rest on the counter you were leaned on as he bent down to your ear, lips brushing your temple as he spoke.
“kinda hard to hear my girl, wanna go somewhere quiet?”
your heart raced at the new nickname, eyes looking up to find him already staring at you. he waited for a nod of confirmation before grabbing your hand and leading you up the stairs to his room, locking the door after you both entered. you followed him to the bed, sitting next to him as muffled music continued to play outside the door.
he rubbed his eyes with his hand, still holding his cup of liquor. you looked around and noticed the bare walls, thinking about how little it seemed like your caleb, the boy that pinned up every drawing you made him as kids and all the photobooth pictures you two took together. before you could inspect any closer, he turned your head to face him, suddenly making you very aware of your close proximity. seeing him up close like this made you realize just how tired he looked, the bags under his eyes more prominent in the dim lighting of his room.
his voice was quiet as a thumb stroked your cheek, “i missed you y’know”. you blushed and nodded, clearing your throat before taking a sip of your drink once more, face turning again to look at the floor. the two of you sat in silence, the sound of your breathing beginning to get heavier the more you thought of the man next to you. in a last ditch effort to relax, you chugged the remainder of what was in your cup and placed the cup on the floor, lying back on his bed. you looked up at the man before you, suddenly nostalgic of your childhood with him. “you’re so big now caleb”
he smirked at the comment, laughing when you began to stutter after realizing how it sounded. “d-didn’t mean it like that, just that you’re a like real guy now but i don’t mean you would be small in anyway i mean it’s probably the opposite-”
he cut you off by covering you mouth with his hand, lying next to you. “you’re making it way worse.”
you stared into each others eyes, his hand still on your mouth. you laid in silence for a few minutes before his head inched towards your face, hovering above you as you let out a shaky exhale. you moved his hand away, removing the barrier separating you from him. “caleb…”
his arms caged you in now, noses almost touching. “that’s not what you call me” he softly spoke, slowly trailing his lips along your jaw before he nestled his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “cmon pips, it’s me…”
your thighs pressed together at the hint of desperation in his voice. “please, ‘leb” sounded from your lips, a groan coming from the man above you. he pushed your thighs up to move you further on the bed, crawling between your legs.
“my sweet girl” he muttered before finally slotting his lips against yours, moving them with a learned synchronicity. you whined against his lips and grabbed the collar of his flannel, trying to pull him closer. he tasted like whatever he was drinking but also something so distinctly caleb.
you pulled away to gasp for air, the tip of his tongue running against your bottom lip. he brought both his hands to frame your face, getting more leverage to move your head in tune with his. you bit his bottom lip and pulled just enough to make him moan, his hips jumping and letting you feel the outline of his cock through his denim jeans. “f-fuck, who taught you that?”
you tried pulling him for another kiss but he moved away, hovering above you between your legs. “you seeing someone?”. the gruff tone he used made you wanna giggle, but you knew it would just make him angrier. you shook your head, hands fidgeting as you finally responded, “would miss you sometimes and y’know i’m an adult too…”. you hoped he would get the hint, but caleb continued to stare into your eyes with a blank expression, waiting for you to finish. “porn, okay?”
at that he smiled, apparently satisfied with the answer and embarrassment he caused. “you touch yourself thinking of me?”
you were bright red now, but still nodded at his question. you bit your lip to deal with the awkwardness but were stopped by his thumb pulling it from between your teeth. “can you show me?”. he sensed your hesitation and bent back down to kiss down the column of your throat, heart swelling at the little whines you let out. “don’t have to if you don’t wanna, but i thought of you too.”
you felt a wave of arousal wash over you, your cunt becoming increasingly wet as he kissed down your neck and slowly lifted up the sweater you wore. “r-really?”
he hummed against your collarbones, head lifting to see your bare breasts and groaning when he realized you didn’t wear a bra. “all the fucking time, pips”, you felt both his hands come to cup your breasts, moaning at the warmth of his palms. “what’d you think about?”
he pressed his lips between your tits, smirking when goosebumps formed across your stomach. “mmm, everything. thought of how you’d sound if i rubbed your little pussy…my fingers are so much bigger than yours, could make you cum so much harder, find all the spots you can’t reach”, he emphasized his point by lining up your hand with his, your hand being engulfed by his giant one. he licked a stripe from your navel to between your breasts, kissing around your areola before he finally enveloped a nipple into his mouth. “thought about these pretty tits too” he groaned into your skin, biting down gently and making you arch towards him. “wanted to fill you up, breed you so i could see them full with milk…bet you’d taste so sweet”
you moaned as he continued to suck your breast, one hand coming up to tease the other nipple while his hips began to unconsciously grind against your clothed cunt. “f-fuck ‘leb please” you whined, arching towards his mouth while also trying to pull him off you. he let go of your now swollen nipple with a pop, lips red from how harshly he was worshipping your breasts.
he stared into your eyes as one hand slowly stroked the outline of his cock through his jeans, the sight of you below him something he only imagined in dreams. “what do you need? please pips, lemme hear it”
his voice trembled as he observed your shaking figure below him, becoming more impatient as each second passed. you shut your eyes, trying to gather the courage to speak before hearing a zipper be undone. “still waiting, just getting ready”
you laughed at how eager he looked, trying to shove his clothes off rapidly before he shyly climbed back over you, apple necklace hanging between you two. “i-i don’t know…i haven’t done anything like this” you whispered to his dangling chain more than him, becoming insecure of how exposed you were. he lifted your chin to look into his eyes, the sincere expression in his gaze making you even more shy. “we don’t have to do anything” he gently spoke, pressing a kiss to each of your cheeks.
you shook your head, hands resting on his shoulders and rubbing up and down before continuing to talk. “no i want to, always have, just don’t want you to get your hopes up if it’s bad”. he smiled at what you said, realizing you still didn’t know just how infatuated he was with you. “you could slap me and i’d cum harder than i ever have, pips”
you laughed at the outlandish statement, nerves finally settling as he pressed another kiss to your lips before starting to take your clothes off. after you laid bare before him, you let out a shaky breath, finally ready to give him what he wanted. “will you..”, he waited patiently as you tried to find your words, gaze drifting down your body and feeling his cock twitch. “can you please fuck me, caleb?”
he groaned at your plea, lifting your legs to rest your calves on his shoulders so he could grind his length against your bare cunt. you felt yourself dripping as you watched his cock rut against you, the sheer size and girth turning you on even more. “so fuckin’ warm baby” he moaned, moving down to press a kiss to your lips in an effort to silence his noises. you gripped the sheets below you, already feeling close to your climax. “caleb, please don’t tease? wanna feel you so bad”
he shut his eyes at the words leaving your lips, one hand moving to grip the base of his cock as he let his tip part your folds. “i-i don’t have any condoms” he mumbled, entranced by the way your fluids clung to him with each swipe.
“just do it anyway, please i need it”
unable to resist any longer, caleb pressed his cock against your tight ring of muscle, allowing the tip to sink into you before taking a break. “o-oh my god” he whined, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck. your hands found the hair at the back of his neck, running your fingers into it as he continued to press into you. “doing okay?”
you felt tears well in your eyes as he finally bottomed out, the unfamiliar sensation both painful and pleasant. “y-yeah, just really big. called it”. he laughed at your comment, letting you adjust to his size before moving out slowly and pressing back in. the position he had you in let him reach even deeper, nearly hitting your cervix with each thrust. you almost asked him to pull out until he brought one finger to rub at your clit, the bundle of nerves swollen from need.
the sudden stimulation had you scratching down his back and squeezing around him, both actions making caleb double over with a groan and accidentally hitting you deeper than before. “pips don’t” he whined into your hair, hips beginning to speed up as his thumb continued to stimulate your clit.
without another word, your climax washed over you, taking both of you by surprise. you arched your back and pulled him in for a kiss by his necklace, cunt rhythmically squeezing his cock as he followed and spurts of cum filled you up. he continued to thrust until both of you whined from overstimulation, only stopped once he got every drop of cum into your cunt.
you laid in the aftershocks of your orgasm, the sound of your breathing mixing with the sound of rnb playing from the speakers downstairs. caleb pressed a kiss to each temple before moving his sticky body off of you and moving one arm below your head as you felt his cum beginning to slip out of you.
TW: Gore, Death (NOT of main character/ you), Cunnilingus, P in V, Smut, Blood, Porn w/ lots of plot
Word Count ~ 4.7
You wake up to a sensation in your lower stomach. Thinking, at first, it’s because you need to pee, you get up but when you do move your hips, they are pinned to the bed. Once your mind fully catches up to your body, the sensation is replaced with pleasure—and you have a clear hunch on who it is before you look down.
But before you can move anything else, all you can do is moan, grabbing onto the nearest thing–which is difficult as you fist the black silk sheets under you.
You wonder where your pillows are until you remember what transpired last night–the house filled with moans and heavy breaths as he had you folded in every position in almost every location on nearly every surface in your shared home only to end up in the most basic position of them all: missionary. But missionary was so intimate and on a more personal level. After all those intimate and downright sinful degrading words were spoken to you, you’re glad your husband always—or has, starting three weeks ago–makes sure you end off the night full of reassurance of both his love for you and your lovely plump body he so craves. His arms caged you in, his forehead pressed against yours to keep your eyes on his–it's not like you wanted to look anywhere but him– as he pistoned in and out of your swollen pussy.
With such a delicious sight in front of you, however, it's not like you wanted to look away either. It was moments like these when you could see his lovesick expression amongst other things like the sweat trickling down his arm. How his eyes ping ponged between where you and him connected and everywhere else, licking his lips seeing you jiggle like jello–the same state your legs were in.
Soon, sight becomes an overwhelming sense, so you shut your eyes in response, your arms fully wrapping the best they could around his back and your ankles doing the same, locking together as you pull him further into your embrace–something he relishes in every single time, another recurrence since three weeks ago.
You are pulled out of your thoughts when he sucks harshly again, hearing a buzz until you feel the cold sensation of a familiar vibrating dildo insert into your already abused hole, the rhythm slow until it catches up to his sucking.
Afterawhile, the question as to where your pillows are pop up in your mind once more up until you buck your hips against the mouth and toy on you. Coming to the realization that you feel your hips are elevated, you remember when he put a pillow under your hips to “help with the breeding” —his words not yours.
You peer down the best you can, getting a good look at your assailant as you pull the covers off of you to reveal none other than your husband, still nude as he humps the sheets in the same rhythym as he fucks the dildo in and out of you to help you reach your peak while simultaneously getting rid of his morning wood the best you can.
“Good morning, my love.” your husband smiles goofily, sight locked onto your pretty flower as if one look somewhere else would mean missing even a millisecond of your orgasm so close to bay or another one of your pretty little fucked out expression.
“I just needed you a bit more before you left for work so I thought,” he pauses to turn up the vibrator, “why not… early breakfast in bed?” You can see hearts in his eyes through your teary vision—but like most times you chalk it up to the lighting despite the room cast in pure darkness with the exception of rising dawn spilling through the curtains.
You giggle, but it morphs into a horse gasp, breathing harshly as you can feel your peak close. He stops talking, going straight back to sucking your clit in tune with the toy thrusting into you. Now it's your silly himbo of a husband's turn to focus–something else that he has started since three weeks ago—where he doesnt let up on the vibrator, his face stone cold as he watched you slowly reach your peak. He is quick to move your hands out of the way as you try to get it to stop but he only grabs it, locking your fingers together with his before pinning it to your thigh to keep them open before going back to eating his meal—you.
Your toes curl in ecstasy when your clit is harshly sucked, your little mewls only serving as proof-although little–to your husband that you are somewhat satisfied.
You inhale and exhale harshly, coming down slowly from your high when the toy inside of you is turned up to the max, your husband leaning down to whisper in your ear as you spasm, too overstimulated to neither speak nor talk.
“Was that one real? Or fake like the others?” He says coldly. You suck a breath in harshly through your teeth, scared out of your mind, scared that your husband has once again finally turned back to his old ways. You tense up, too scared--and too stimulated to move. He keeps your hand locked with his as his gaze is pointed, his eyes having that soulless look to them—however, you remember them being more black then blue.
As he waits for an answer, his smile turned into a frown, he speeds up the pace of the dildo, watching you. You can't seem to hold it as your hand shoots up to cover your face but he pins it to the bed quickly. You close your eyes but they shoot open, surprised when he kisses you, his pace speeding up to an inhumane speed. Then, you cum harshly, spazzing as it trickles out of you. His eyes never leave yours, his face mere centimeters away from yours as he removed his hand quickly to rub your clit fast until you squirt once again on the sheet and his arm.
You laugh on the bed, coming back from your high as you twitch. He tosses the dildo somewhere, his expression turning cold to sweet in an instance as he gets up to clean you, taking you aback once again with how well he seems to do it.
He returns, with a towel loosely around his hips and a washcloth. The cold water feels good as he wipes your legs down, leaving your pussy last.
He laps up as much as he can for himself before wiping you down with a rag, the cool sensation against your overheated cunt feels soothing as you feel yourself drift back into sleep.
You feel him lift the towel and sheets from under you, leaving once more but returning quickly, as if he had never left in the first place. He slotted his chiseled muscular body behind yours, wrapping his arms tight around your midsection, only letting up just a smidge when he felt you shift as you turned around to face his chiseled pecs and abs. Your hand against his chest traveled down, wanting to return the favor---wondering why he wasn't so pissy---but he quickly grabbed your hand and guiding it back to lay on his chest. He fanned his hand on top of yours, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand.
He pecks your cheek.
“You don't need to do that,” His voice barely above whisper, trying to preserve what little time you guys have left before it's time for y'all to fully get up.
“I’ve told you this before.”
“And I’ve told you numerous times before,” you say interrupting him, “I. Don't. Mind.”
Past you would have never gone out of your way to return the favor. He usually would expect you to after a halfassed attempt at eating you out.
I pleased you so why can’t you return the favor and be a good wife?
Just remembering those words make you shudder. However, he continues to surprise you.
“And I said, no thank you. I don’t need anything in return for doing something I enjoy.” He kisses your knuckles before wrapping his arms tightly around your waist one more, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck, kissing your shoulder and murmuring ‘I love you’ in between kisses.
“Stop before you get riled up again.”
“Just being in your presence is enough to get anyone riled up, honey.”
And like a whore desperate for another man’s attention you seem to love when I mention another man, huh? You cheating on me, slut–
You're brought back from your thoughts once again when he kisses you on the lips. It turns passionate to rough quickly, your tongues fighting for dominance. When you pull away, a string of saliva still connects your lips.
Your husband is ready to dive back in, eyes hooded and quick but you push him away cheekily.
“Ron–”
“Namuh.”
“Huh?” you question.
“Namuh. I don’t want you to call me Ron or whatever it was before. Can you do that, my love?”
Ron Mest! Ron Mest the third and I’ll proudly die knowing you shall never bare the heirs to the Mest line, you fat—
“Honey?” You are brought back again. “Yes, dear?” You forgot his question.
“I’m fine if you don’t want me to change my name?” You can visibly see him sulk a bit.
“W-what? Wait, no, honey–I mean—you can change your name—I just—you always were such a snob–”
“A snob?” He interrupts. Your mind begins to rattle, you think the worst, thinking he really hasn’t changed, this is just a ruse, but he laughs.
“Honey, you really think so horrible about me.”
“No. I think horribly about Ron, not Namuh.” You smile cheekily, watching the gears turn in his mind until a huge smile breaks out onto his face. He squeezes you in a huge, suffocating—in a good way— hug.
You laugh, punching him jokingly to let go. As soon as he does, you give him a kiss, before getting up.
He’s sad at first. He hates when you go,deciding to stay in bed more. He lounges in the bed, watching you move as he rubs sleep out of his eyes, cuddling a pillow, but oh how he loves to watch you leave from his angled view, looking like a giant goddess.
The silk sheets fall off you like water, revealing your hips and breasts with his little marks–he smiles a bit when he sees them. You trip a bit, legs a bit wobbly but he is at your side in lightening speed–something else you have never witnessed until three weeks ago.
Your routine is normal: brushing your teeth, maybe taking a quick shower, doing your makeup, all while a huge koala hangs off of you at your beck and call. When he hears the shower, he begrudgingly walks to the kitchen to get breakfast ready.
When you're done, you come out dressed. You sit down and eat, having enough time to do that before taking the keys, giving him one more kiss goodbye.
While in the car, you find yourself drifting into thought. It hadn’t surprised you when he said he wanted to change his name—what startled you was how long it took for him to finally admit it.
After all, who would want to keep the name of the man they murdered? You doubt he thinks you’re oblivious, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize the truth: the person sitting beside you, wearing your husband’s face and speaking in his voice, isn’t the one you married.
??? POV (Flashback)
I wanted to kill her at first. That was my plan all along, getting two meals for the price of one when I found out the man I had just killed was married. The lack of ring on his supposed ring finger was a tell-tale sign he didn't love his wife—the added fact the woman he had just met and paid in the hotel was just further proof.
However, it didn't matter whom I ate—the girl, the unfaithful husband, or his wife—as long as I got my nutrients to keep my body from turning back. I wanted—no, needed—- more so I set out to go kill her, copying his form based on whatever I could see—as that was a limit to being whatever you may classify me as—before heading to their address.
The walk was slow as I prepared for what was to come next along with what I should do. Should I continue this act as her husband? Open the door with the stolen keys, shouting “I’m home!” before seeking her out, ready to embrace her with a big smile before I devour her whole as she screams? Should I break the door down and just consume her? Possibilities shot through my head the closer I got to the address until I was in front of the door.
I opened the door, only to reveal the most beautiful creature I have ever seen—which is saying a lot. She was not only the prettiest human I has seen but the prettiest creature—person, whatever she was—in the entire galaxy. I assumed she couldn’t be human but a goddess, having no other explanation to how someone like her is a mere human. Her natural smell is covered by the artificiality of cherry blossoms.
She broke me out of my trance.
“What’s wrong, honey?” She said looking up at me with those beautiful with those eyes of hers.
“N-nothing,” I manage to stammer out. “Just… starving my love.” I give a fake chuckle at the end.
I quickly go over where the steaming pot on the oven sits. She doesn’t stop me. I dip my finger into the boiling hot food and lick it off.
“How is it?” She says, her expression cold.
“Good, a bit spicy though.”
She only stares dumbfounded at me after a few minutes go by. However, as soon as her expression is confused it quickly changes back to neutral, giving me a smile.
“Spicy, indeed.” She mutters.
I go to sit down, eating but all she does is put the food up and clean dishes.
“You’re not eating?”
“You want me to?” She raises an eyebrow.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” I was dumbfounded once again.
Once we got done eating, I wash the dishes as she goes up to take a shower. It’s quick by using my powers freely with no one watching.
Being as curious as can be, I walk to where I think the shower is, going in the same direction as she did. I knock on the door before entering.
Knock! Knock!
No answer.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
I jiggle the handle, expecting it to be locked but it’s not. With a click, I open up the door, immediately hit with her natural scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Then, my ears pick up on something.
Moaning.
It’s hard to see in the fogged up room with the fogged up glass shower but I can see her silhouette.
She moans, her back against the glass as I can see her beautiful ass cheeks and thighs. Seeing the handshower disconnected from the holder, I can conclude she must be using the showerhead as a makeshift vibrator, judging from the hose going from the hose connection to where her crotch is.
I shed the clothes off of me, disappearing off of me for a little bit before reappearing on the floor so as to not make her suspicious as to where my clothes went.
I slowly open the glass door, watching her a bit more until I decide to take matters into my own hands. When I grab the hose, she gasps, her grip as firm as mine on it. She looks…scared which makes me all the more sad and angry assuming the worse of what her horrible husband was like, what she is probably thinking how fucked she is.
“Let me… help you.” I put the hose back on the holder, caging her in my arms.
“Would you..want me to?” She’s slow to answer, obviously too overwhelmed to answer.
However, as I am about to leave the shower, knowing I am probably making her very confused, she grabs me by the wrist.
“Don't go.” She makes cautious steps forward until she is pressed against me. Her lips are inches away from mine whispering“Please” with hooded eyes.
Her arms wrap around my neck when she pulls me in, lips locked into mine.
I never understood nor liked the act of kissing. It seemed odd when watching humans do it and participating in it on the rare occasions I would get kissed in a desperate attempt to sway me from eating whoever was on the menu. However, her lips on mine felt akin to bliss, heaven on earth. I think I could grow very fond of this kissing–and even more intimate acts.
Careful not to put my full body weight on her, I picked her up, wrapped her legs around my hips, and pressed her back against the glass door. My hands find purchase anywhere I can grab, but I am quite fond of her plumper parts–her boobs, hips, thighs–like I’m hypnotized.
“Put it in,” she says between kisses. I oblige happily, hoping my cock is able to “pass” as a human one although it very much doesn't look like one.
When I thrust the first few inches inside of her, she gasps.
“What’s wrong?” I’m scared shitless thinking she must know now.
“Y-you’re…a lot bigger than before.”
I chuckle, but don’t pay it any mind, thrusting the last of the inches inside of her. The pudge on her stomach folds over and all I want to do is grab it like a piece of dough–maybe give it a nibble. She keels, holding onto me even harder, biting my shoulder as her head rests in the crook of my neck. The water has long gone cold as I feel it trickle down one of my shoulders and cascade between whatever space is between our bodies—less than centimeters.
“Move,” She whispers. I piston in and out of her at a steady pace as she holds onto me, leaving just the tip in before thrusting back into her harshly. Her nails rake down my back, leaving marks that would otherwise quickly vanish if I didn’t slow down regeneration by a lot. The quick sting from the air and water hitting the wound felt…nice. I couldn’t pinprick what felt better–being inside of her, her moans, or the marks she left behind. I just knew it felt different–a good type of different.
Her hands slap my cheeks, pulling my face down to lock lips with her again–something else I could get used to. She bites my bottom lip as her pussy squeezes my cock simultaneously. She tilts her head, a smirk on her glossy eyed expression.
“You’re not with me.”
“I-I don’t–nghh— understand.”
“Your mind is somewhere else, daydreaming.” Her smirk falls and her eyes look at the wall. Small bubbles of liquid I’m too familiar with bubbles at the corner of her eyes.
“I was just thinking about all the different positions I’m going to fold you into.”
She blushes, a choked gasp falling out of her mouth when my thrusts speed up at inhuman speed.
“S-slow down. I-I’m gonna—” She cums on my cock, a ring of cum forming around my cock, too full for the majority of it to leak out. Her legs jiggle and shake as my hand reaches down to touch that spot she focused so much on when pleasing herself. Small drops of that eye liquid slid down her cheeks as she pleaded for me to stop but I couldn't–I didn't want to.
Her nails dig into my shoulders as her back arches off the glass, further pressing her breasts into me. Her arms lock around my neck, bringing me flush against her as liquid comes out in streams, soaking my hand and chest as it pools under us. It continues until her grip on my neck becomes loose.
I hold up the best I can–which is barely an effort only needing to use less than half my actual power–as I feel her go limp, my cock still very hard inside her.
“S-sorry.” She whispers out, her face with now dried streams of water on it.
I’m used to them by now, thinking about it while giving her a nice shower, making sure to get all the cum and stuff off her. I reluctantly remove my cock out of her, thinking I’ll deal with it later.
People screaming, pleading for mercy that shall not come. Hoping for me to spare them in a last ditch effort as they helplessly writhe on the floor before a quick wave of my fake hand turns to a claw, to slit their throat or impale them, making sure their death is quick–or painless depending on who they were--as their blood flows into my mouth. I hate messes, but I’m learning to love hers.
After drying her off, I put her in some underwear and a shirt I found after looking through the drawers. I lay her on the bed while I grab some underwear that the dead man must’ve worn before slotting next to her, wrapping my arms around her body.
“That man was foolish to love another,” I lick a long stripe up her cheek, tasting her sweet sweat off of her which tastes just how she smells—bliss and heaven.
“But don’t worry,” I stroke her cheek with my hand as gently as possible. “Another man’s trash…is someone else’s treasure.” My mind remembers what she said before she passed out.
Sorry.
Why should she apologize for divulging in pleasure, something common, as simple as being a part of human nature? I try to keep my claws from coming out in order to not hurt her, feeling the rage bubble and overflow the harder I think about how torrid he must have been to her.
“Don’t worry, my darling,” I brush a few strands out of her face so I can get a better look at her. “I’ll make sure you never experience that again. Never again.”
End of Flashback
(??? POV)
We sat happily at the table as a lot of different food lay on the table. I wanted to prepare this big feast for her, to show her just how much she meant to me. She was quick to shrug off her blazer and take a quick shower to change into something more comfortable. She marvels at everything I have made–a baked chicken, a side of mashed potatoes, three cheese sliced potatoes, screamed spinach, a few mocktails, nice apple pie, homemade ice cream, and banana pudding.
The silence was deafening but for me it felt nice, like she was saying a silent thank you even after kissing me more times then I can count and remember, jumping with joy and thanking me profusely.
With forks and silverware clinking on the plates, she broke the silence first.
“You know, Namu…this is exquisite, much better than Ron could ever do.”
She looks up from her plate, smiling as the lightbulb in my head is slowly turned on.
“Y-you knew?” I’ve never felt fear in my life. Never when facing off opponents akin to literal gods nor when massacring nearly millions of alien species with more technology, powers, and intelligence to rival even the smartest human. But, sitting in front of this human woman, for the very first time I felt my heart skip a beat.
She only shrugs, going back to eating like we are having a normal conversation.
“Since you walked in,” she begins.
“I was impressed. You managed to get the tiniest details. His small freckles on his cheeks, the dimple on his right side, even the way his eyebrows are in a permanent scowl, always furrowed.”
She stops playing with her food, pointing the fork at me, looking me straight in my eyes.
“But you missed such an obvious detail,” her eyes furrow. “The eyes. His soulless black fucking eyes that only a psychopath would have. You must be questioning just how dumb I can be for you to think I would miss that when all my life I have spent pleading with them to look at me with something besides hatred.”
I’m rooted to my seat, too scared to look away from her. Her chair scrapes harshly against the wood floors as she gets up and slowly saunters towards me.
“Whether or not you or someone else killed him, his fate was sealed. He was destined to die that night either by my hands or someone else’s.”
“H-how?” I have a question. She grabs the knife that we used to cut the turkey, turning it over numerous times in her hand like it was a toy.
“Pepper. He’s deathly allergic to it, not even a bunch of it, barely a sprinkle. So–- my suspicions already high—whne you don’t drop dead, something tugs at my heart. My husband is dead, that is a fact, when you show up wearing his skin I assume. But knowing I couldn’t get that sweet bliss of killing him, seeing him convulse on the floor and writhe. Those few seconds of suffering would never amount to years of his abuse,” she looks mournfully at the knife before sitting on my lap, the knife at my throat.
“But it would amount to something–just a little bit.” She presses the tip of it harder. “You took that from me.”
She looks at my eyes as if searching for something before she puts the knife down and out of reach for the both of us.
“But I’m grateful. These three weeks have felt like heaven compared to the six years with him ever could. I wouldn’t change anything for the world.” She grabs at my hair, pulling my head back as she licks a stripe up my neck.
“And the sex is just…wonderful. That first night was ” She giggles before letting go.
“You could kill me right now and I would die—”
“I won’t. Never.” It’s my turn to look at her now, cradling her face in my hands.
“If my hands were to ever bring harm to you, even a scratch, I would never forgive myself.”
“Ron said the same thing.” Her eyes furrow once again. “What makes you think I should trust you just because you decided not to kill me for these past three weeks?”
I have nothing to say. For the first time in my life, I have no words, no rebuttals, nothing. So I speak truthfully, no lies, no barriers, just the truth.
“I-I can’t lie to you. I planned to kill you but…that was before I saw you. I did plan to tell you eventually–truely I did. But when you would look at me, wake up with that bright smile of yours, kiss me before you left for work, or even say ‘maybe another round’ after a long night I didn’t want to ruin this moment. I didn’t want to lose this-this-this life I have sought out since the beginning. I didn’t want to lose you, lose whatever we could have had, the start of whatever happened no matter what. No more running, no more hunting for my next meal, just a simple life with you.”
I don’t notice how hard my hands are gripping hers.
“Wow,” her legs now straddling my lap. “I like this side of you.” She reaches up and touches something on my head. I think it’s my hair but somehow the real me, the alien side, has slowly come out.
I try to resist the urge to purr while she touches the small horns on my head before running the tips of her fingers along the long bones that are hidden beneath a soft layer of jello-like skin, only revealed when in use. They protrude and run along my side from the very top of my head to the tip of my tail—I hope my tail wasn’t out, probably wagging like a tornado.
She hums as I bury my face in her boobs, embarrassed a little bit.
“Oh, how cute.” She leans into my ear to whisper closer. “How about we move this to the bedroom?”
horroresque colonel caleb x nonMC!reader fic where she knows something is off about him (due to the toring chip she's unaware of), but doesn't know what.
they started dating before the explosion so imagine the relief and horror hitting her at once when he shows up at her door with this dead look in his eyes like he's not there at all. and when he hugs her close, it's stiff and he squeezes a bit too hard before he lets go.
he tells you he got a new job, but doesn't say what. he disappears for weeks at a time and returns reeking of what you hope isn't blood. and whenever you try to bring it up, his face stones and he's staring at you with that look again. like the life has drained from his eyes and he's just an empty can of what used to be. you stop bringing it up after that.
he becomes more possessive and questioning about her whereabouts. the other men in her life start to disappear. he smiles but it never reaches his eyes. he holds her hand but it feels suffocating.
and in random moments, the life flickers into his eyes again for a split second before it fades again as if it was never there.
BASICALLY WHAT IF CALEB COULDN'T CONTROL HIS TORING CHIP!!!! WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH POTENTIAL COLONEL CALEB HAS UGH INFOLD LET HIM OUT OF THE BASEMENT
Imagine having a big fat crush on a person but learning that the exact same person has an obsession with you.
He's my man
And I love him like nobody else can
He's my man
He's gone quite mad
Yandere HSR mean x reader ( Phainon, Jingyuan, Sunday ) different AU
PHAINON
Phainon was the dream son in law for every family, he is very popular and known by everyone–you bet that there's one person among your circle that knows phainon. You have been having a crush on him, but it was something small–it's not something big plus you move on by then plus he has a girlfriend.
One day out of the blue, you receive a message or a friend request from phainon Instagram. Your best friend's boyfriend, outed your previous crush on him during a hangout and now he's messaging you. He is checking in on you as well as wondering whether or not you still like him, you thought that he was asking for reassurance because he already has a girlfriend and he doesn't want to make it awkward between you and her.
You reassure him that you no longer have any feelings for him thinking it was the end of it–he took a long time to respond to your messages and he responded with an okay and then went offline. For one week, you've been hearing gossip of phainon and his girlfriend getting into arguments because he has a gallery of photos of a girl–thats what cyrene and castorice has been telling you.
The next day, your best friends break the news that phainon and his girlfriend officially ended their relationship. Honestly, you feel sad because his girlfriend is genuinely a nice presence but you guess people fall out of love–thats what you thought on what happened towards phainon and his girlfriend.
What you don't know is that phainon for the longest time has fallen in love with you, he's aware of the crush you had on him–in fact he enjoys the chase from you, from the gaze that you think he wasn't paying attention it simply fuels the flames in his heart. He and his girlfriend were nothing but a stunt to make you more jealous, and the relationship was fake for him. It immediately becomes a big problem when you said that you don't like him anymore, he instantly panicked. By now, he's now focused on rekindling the old spark–since you are too shy to make the first move he would.
JINGYUAN
You have admired the head chairman for a long time and from a distance, it's already known that the chairman is often too busy for a relationship–which is such a shame due to his good looks that would not be passed down, that's what the elders in your family say–after when you tell them about your small crush on your boss.
You were an assistant towards him and would manage his schedules so that he would not be overwhelmed and be burned out by the constant work he already has to do, he already has enough up his plate and he doesn't need more. There was so much for a person to handle, and he already suffered enough.
Jingyuan would often find your presence comforting and grounding, that's what he often says about you–referring to you as his sanctuary. Quite nice to be dotted on at first, but now it becomes uncomfortable for you–back then when you first work for him, he's always distant and closed off even dismissing you.
During a company party, you accidentally got too drunk and confessed your crush towards jingyuan in front of him and coworkers. It was a disaster night for you and the worst day of the year, you were ashamed of showing your face again but the paycheck was too big so you kept a low profile to avoid any attention.
Recently you've been trying to do a transfer but when you send your papers it's always denied, it's very frustrating because all you wanted to do is just to leave and start a new but unfortunately the chairman has this idea of wanting to "embarrass" you by keeping you there as a reminder of your previous embarrassment. When you finally, confronted him–he already expected it. You asked if this was an attempt to embarrass you and humiliated your confession, all he said was "when did I ever reject you" now you are all his now.
SUNDAY
You were a childhood for Sunday and robin, both coming from a royal family. Despite being from a lower status–your family and king gopher have a close relationship, that's probably the reason why you are able to meet Sunday and robin not to mention growing up together. You used to have a crush on the prince, but that dream was always a fantasy because it's expected for him to marry a high Noble.
Unfortunately a revolution has emerged and separated you from them for a long time, both Sunday and robin went missing when people flood the castle to execute the royal family with their relationship with the order which is seen as blasphemy against the Harmony that your nation serves.
During the years without them, you manage to grow in status by becoming the current king advisor. You never really expected that Sunday would return back, to take back his throne. It was a cold war and penancony was then split up again, another side wishes the return towards the oak prince while the other wishes to maintain the watchmen's wishes.
By the end Sunday manage to reclaim his throne again, you originally thought he might hate you but he seems neutral with you. Holding no grudge with you, in fact express happiness towards finally meeting you. He tells you his stories about travelling the world and his path of atonement as well as self reflection.
When you offer him a list of future spouses he seems to have taken it back, he always thought that you would be the one to be by his side–that caught you by surprises and move back, as you take a few steps back–sunday stand up from his chair and approach pinning you up against the wall. He is quite sad how lowly you viewed yourself, when you explain that you are not trained as a spouse–he told you that he doesn't mind at all because the title of spouse or advisor doesn't matter all that matters is you by his side.
My life was forever changed knowing Sylus likes to talk with his mouth full. Knowing that nothing can stop him and his smart-ass mouth from muttering in mock-sympathy while his lips are occupied with your cunt.
So casual, every word slurred and choppy as he asks you why you're squirming so much, why your thighs are tensing, why your nails are digging so deep into his skin. His tongue flicking dangerously across your twitching, swollen clit all the while, feeling you cum.
CW: Smut. Stalker reader. Stalker Caleb. (they match each other's freak) Cameras. Fingering. Smut. P in V. Oral. Jealousy. 🔞 MDNI🔞
Celebrate 1700 with me ❤️❤️🎉🎉
Apple masterlist
HIS POV
He knows. Of course he knows. There are two cameras in his room, tucked away in the corners like little plastic parasites, blinking away in the shadows. He’ll play the part, though, he’ll keep on pretending he’s oblivious while she watches him. There’s something almost touching about the way she thinks she’s the only one doing the stalking.
Cute
He knows she's been playing detective, tracing his steps, hunting for some grand revelation to justify her suspicion. It all started because of that one photo Gideon posted of him and a girl from work, a face he can barely remember through the fog of his own fractured memory, but Caleb doesn't correct her. Why bother? If she wants to play the investigator, let her.
He leans back, closing his eyes for a second, and there it is. That scent. Her perfume. It’s a goddamn olfactory ghost, haunting every inch of his home. It’s on his couch, it’s in his bedsheets, practically etched into the walls. A little flag planted in his territory, announcing her presence.
She’s good, he’ll give her that. A master of the artful lie, a silver tongued little thing who can spin a web of deception with a smile so bright it could practically blind you. She thinks she's so clever, hiding the truth behind those pretty, innocent expressions. But he’s known her since they were children, since the days of thunderstorms and shared secrets. He’s watched her evolve, watched her sharpen her wits and harden her heart, and he sees right through the facade.
But that’s okay. He likes it. He likes the game, the way she dances around the truth, weaving a web of half lies and omissions. It’s a mirror of his own mind, a reflection of the masks he wears every single day.
They’re two halves of a single, fractured soul, spinning in a haze where love and obsession become indistinguishable from one another. Caleb finds himself wondering, with a dark sort of amusement, who’s actually going to catch who in the end.
But for now, he's going to give her exactly what she’s looking for.
As the sun finally drags itself below the horizon, Caleb slips beneath the sheets of his bed and strips naked.
He knows she’s watching. He knows her eyes are fixed on him.
With a slow, deliberate movement, he pushes the silk aside. He lets the cool air hit his skin, exposing himself to the lens. He angles his hips just so, a lewd, shameless display of his fat cock, making sure the camera catches every single inch of him. His breathing shifts, getting heavy, ragged, catching in his throat as he strokes himself imagining is her hand around him. He lets out a guttural moan that he knows will vibrate through the speakers in whatever room she's hiding in.
And then, he whispers her name.
“...”
He wants her to feel the weight of it. He wants her to realize that even in his most private, vulnerable moments, she is the only thing that exists. He lets her watch as he strokes himself towards a messy release, painting his expenaive sheets with thick spurts of cum.
But a tease is never enough for a man like Caleb.
He rises from the bed, his bare feet making almost no sound on the hardwood as he strides out of his bedroom. He doesn't head for the kitchen or the balcony. Instead, he moves toward the living room, toward the wall that looks perfectly ordinary to anyone else. But with a practiced touch, a hidden mechanism clicks, and a secret door swings open, revealing his true sanctum.
He sits heavily in the chair before the glow of the computer monitors. With a few keystrokes, the screens bloom to life, and the room is flooded with a digital kaleidoscope of her.
There she is. Everywhere. Photos from the street, grainy surveillance footage, shots of her sleeping, laughing, even crying. His obsession. His entire universe, distilled into pixels and light.
He turns his head slightly, looking toward the direction of the hidden camera in her room, and he sees her. She isn't disgusted. She’s mesmerized. She’s a mirror of his own unquenchable thirst.
She might be smart, she might be a damn good Hunter, but she’s playing against a man who has turned his entire existence into a singular, sharpened point of focus. He is always, always one step ahead.
As he watches her on the screen, a satisfied rush of adrenaline surges through him. He wonders what she’ll do next. What new lies will she tell? What new traps will she set? He’ll just keep enjoying the thrill of the chase, the exquisite tension of knowing that she’s watching him, wanting him, needing him... just as desperately as he needs her.
One thing is certain, as certain as the gravity he commands, he will have her. Come hell, come high water, come the end of the world itself. She is his destiny, his beautiful, chaotic fate.
And he is never, ever letting her go.
The game isn't over. It's just getting interesting.
YOUR POV
The image of him is burned into the back of your eyelids. Every time you blink, you see it again. His face contorted in pleasure. The way he moaned your name had you trembling where you sat. You can't unsee the way his knuckles went white, the way his body shuddered, or the shameless desperation in the way he found release.
A traitorous part of you, the part that's a little too obsessed with the thrill of the hunt wishes you’d been braver. Dammit, why didn't I put a third one in the bathroom? Or the hallway?
You really want to catch every single, private second of him.
But then reality hits, cold and sharp. You shake the thought off, Caleb isn't an idiot, he's a Colonel. The risk is massive. The terrifying thought that he might actually know creeps into your mind like a shadow.
No, you tell yourself a little too quickly. It’s hidden. Undetectable. He’ll never know.
Yet, even as you try to settle, that bitter, hot knot of jealousy starts to twist in your gut again. Your mind drifts back to that photo Gideon had uploaded. The girl. Her smile had been too bright and her hand had been positioned a fraction of an inch too close to his. It’s a memory that sits in your mind like a splinter, irritating and impossible to ignore.
Is he truly yours? You don't know and the uncertainty stings.
But then you remember the way he cried out your name. It wasn't just lust, it sounded pained. Maybe it isn't the pure, uncomplicated love you’ve always dreamed of. Maybe it’s something much darker, something more complicated and far more dangerous.
You really, truly wanted to see him today. There was this hollow ache in your chest, a craving for the warmth of his smile and the way those eyes always seemed to pull you in like a gravitational tide. But it's the last Saturday of the month, which means he’s locked into that rigid, military schedule of his, keeping him far away from you.
So you sink onto the edge of your bed, the mattress dipping under your weight, and pull your phone from your pocket. Your fingers are a little unsteady as you tap through the layers of encryption to reach the hidden apps. These aren't the apps a normal person uses, these are your windows into the man behind the Colonel.
Your pulse hammers against your throat when you log into his accounts, holding your breath as you scan for anything new. A message? A notification? A slip up?
Nothing.
It’s the same stale routine. A few banal exchanges with Gideon, a dry work email from the Fleet, and a social media feed that looks as frozen in time as a museum exhibit. No new photos. No new posts. You let out a long, shaky sigh of relief, your shoulders finally dropping an inch. There’s no sign of that girl from the photo. No evidence that anyone else has managed to pierce his orbit lately.
You’ve been doing this for years. It’s a ritual now, a habit so deeply ingrained in your bones that you don't even realize you're doing it until you're already deep in his digital life. You've had these same tracking apps installed on your phone since high school. Back then, it was different, you’d watch the flood of thirsty messages and scandalous nudes from girls all over the school hitting his inbox, watching them wait for a reply that never came. Caleb never played the game. He was always too disciplined, too untouchable. He never gave them the time of day.
And that? That was the drug that hooked you. Knowing that even when the world was throwing itself at him, he remained unyielding. He could be yours, and yours alone.
You know it's messed up. You know that a "sane" person wouldn't spend their Saturday nights dissecting a man's private digital footprint like a forensic scientist. It’s an invasion, a total lack of boundaries.
But you can't just stop. You can't resist the gnawing need to know every detail, to inhabit the spaces of his life even when he isn't looking. If you have to bury this obsession deeper just to keep it alive, then so be it.
You'll keep digging. You'll keep watching. Because the only thing scarier than knowing too much is knowing nothing at all.
---------------------------
Hours later you're standing in the fruit aisle of the supermarket, staring at the produce as if there's an answer to your life written in the skins of the fruit. But just when your fingers graze a perfect, gleaming apple, they brush against something else. Warm skin.
You jump, nearly dropping the fruit, and an apology slips out of your mouth before you can even think.
"Sorry..."
"Y/N?"
The voice hits you like a sudden gust of wind. You lift your head, and your breath hitches. Eyes you haven't seen in years. "Ian?" you ask, a genuine, startled smile breaking across your face. "Oh my god, is it really you? It’s been... what, years? How have you been?"
Back in school he was one of those small, sweet crushes, the kind you remember fondly but don't lose sleep over.
Ian grins, but there’s a different energy to him now. As he speaks, you catch his eyes roaming over you, a slow sweep that feels a little more intentional than a casual glance. "I'm good," he says, his gaze lingering on the curve of your hips just a beat too long. "And you look..." He lets the word hang there for a second "...incredible."
A faint blush creeps up your neck at the compliment, but the moment is interrupted by a flicker of something else. You notice Ian’s eyes darting around the aisle, shifting restlessly as if he’s scanning the crowd for a specific face.
Confused, you follow his line of sight, expecting to see someone familiar, but there’s nothing. Just the usual grocery store chaos, people debating over cereal brands and teenagers laughing near the frozen goods. The aisles are empty of anyone who looks like they belong with him.
"Are you here by yourself?" he asks. He’s still scanning the perimeter, his brow furrowed in a way that feels almost anxious.
"Yeah..." you reply, your voice trailing off as a small knot of confusion forms in your chest. "Is everything okay?"
Ian snaps out of whatever trance he was in, shaking his head and forcing a laugh that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh, no, it’s nothing. Really," he says, though he doesn't sound convinced. "It’s just... well, back in high school, you and Caleb were practically joined at the hip. I just kind of assumed he’d be trailing behind you like a shadow." He gives a little apologetic shrug, trying to play it off as a casual observation.
You feel a tiny prickle of annoyance at the mention of his name. "We weren't always together," you say, brow furrowing.
He chuckles, but the sound is a little dry. "You were! Trust me, everyone was way too intimidated to even get within five feet of you because of him. Especially us guys."
You tilt your head, genuinely baffled. "Why on earth would anyone be afraid of him?"
Ian laughs again, but this time there’s a distinct edge of discomfort in it, a sort of nervous energy that makes you uneasy. "Come on, don't play coy. We were all terrified to get too close to you. Nobody wanted to be the one to accidentally piss Caleb off."
You let out a light, airy laugh, but the sound dies in your throat when you see the way his jaw sets grim, hard. He’s glancing around the produce section again, his eyes scanning the shoppers as if he’s worried someone might be eavesdropping on this specific conversation.
"No way," you say, trying to sound breezy, but your voice feels thin, lacking any real conviction. "You're kidding, right?"
"He almost beat the absolute crap out of me," Ian confesses. He leans in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that feels far too heavy for a grocery store. "He told me straight up that you weren't allowed to date anyone. And it wasn't just me, either. Half the guys at school..." He trails off, a visible shudder running through his shoulders as if the memory still stings.
Suddenly, your mind starts racing, flipping through years of memories like a deck of cards being shuffled at high speed. You think about all those missed connections. All those guys who had been so eager to take you out, only to vanish at the last second, or suddenly lose interest after just one date. It wasn't just a high school thing, either, the pattern had followed you like a ghost through college. A long, frustrating trail of aborted romances and broken promises that you just chalked up to bad luck.
Could it really be true?
Had Caleb really been the invisible hand, pulling the strings of your entire romantic life for years? Had he been quietly pruning away every potential boyfriend before they even had a chance to reach you?
You search Ian's face, desperate to find a flicker of a joke, a glint of anything to suggest he’s lying. But there’s nothing. Just the truth etched into the lines around his eyes and a lingering shadow of old fear.
A wild impulse flares up in your chest. It’s reckless, maybe even a little bit stupid, but before your brain can talk you out of it, the words are already tumbling out.
"Well... he's not around right now," you say, your voice a little higher than usual. "How about we head back to my place? We could grab some coffee and actually catch up properly."
You wince internally the second the invitation leaves your lips. God, that sounded so needy, you think, but beneath the embarrassment, there’s a bubbling urge to prove something.
Ian glances around the aisle one last time, his eyes darting nervously as if he expects Caleb to materialize from behind a stack of oranges. He looks hesitant, a shadow of doubt crossing his face, but then he offers a small, tentative nod. "Alright," he says softly. "Let’s go."
The walk back to your apartment is a blur. Ian shares mundane snippets about his job and stories about visiting family over the summer. But to you, it all sounds like static. Like white noise. Your entire world has narrowed down to the thudding rhythm of your own heart and the terrifying thrill of what you’re about to do.
Finally, you’re standing in the hallway, the cool air of the apartment complex settling around you. You fumble with your keys, your movements clumsy and uncoordinated, when your phone suddenly buzzes in your pocket.
The vibration feels like a lightning strike.
You pull it out with trembling fingers and swipe the screen awake. And there it is, staring back at you is a message from Caleb.
"Hey Pips, I'm free tomorrow. Wanna come over?"
The simplicity of it, the casual warmth of that nickname makes your head spin. You don't even try to reply. You don't think about how it might look or how long you're leaving him on read. You just toss the phone onto the small entryway table with a dull clack, the screen still glowing.
There is no doubt, there is a camera on the hallway. Are there any inside?
Taking a long, shaky breath to steady your nerves you turn back to Ian and reach out, your fingers curling around his hand to pull him inside.
Let him come looking, a spark of defiance lights up in your chest. Let him see.
The second the door clicks shut, you shove Ian back against the wood and crash your lips onto his. It’s clumsy. An awkward clatter of teeth and uncoordinated scramble of tongues.
The silence of the apartment is shatters.
Your phone begins to wail from the entryway table. The sharp ringtone cuts through the air like a blade, and you know, you just know it’s him. Caleb’s name flashes on the screen, a digital ghost looming over the room, watching you from the dark.
Gotcha.
This was the answer you’d been hunting for. Caleb wasn't just a part of your life, he was a spectator. He was watching right now. How many of them were there? Hidden in the smoke detectors? Tucked into the corners of the ceiling?
Is he seeing the way your chest heaves right now?
You don't let the fear paralyze you. Instead, you use it. You grab Ian’s hand and lead him toward the bedroom, he looks a little dazed by the sudden shift but he isn't exactly complaining. As you move, the phone on the table goes absolutely haywire, bombarded by a rapid fire succession of messages. He’s practically vibrating with the need to reach you.
He wanted to watch? You’ll give him the best performance.
Once you reach the bed, you push Ian back onto the mattress and straddle him. You dive back into his mouth, hands roaming over his chest, fingers bunching and gripping the fabric of his shirt as you lose yourself in the rush of the moment.
His hands find their way to your thighs, sliding under your skirt to cup your ass. You let out a broken gasp into the kiss when he finally hooks his fingers under the edge of your panties, sliding them aside.
A small, rational part of your brain is screaming this is insane, you barely even know this guy anymore! but that voice is drowned out by your own heartbeat. Logic is a luxury you can't afford right now. All that matters is the risk, and the invisible eyes you know are staring at you from the shadows.
Breathless, you break the kiss, your eyes darting around the room in search. And then, you see it. Tucked away in the shadowed corner of your closet, a tiny, unblinking red dot glints.
The moment you realize he’s actually watching you a rush of heat floods your entire body. The phone on the table outside starts to ring again.
"Aren't you going to answer that?" Ian asks breathless "it could be impo..."
You don't let him finish. You silence him, crashing your lips back onto his to stifle the question, determined to keep this investigation going. You squeeze your eyes shut, and suddenly, the illusion becomes almost too real. As Ian's fingers slide deep, pushing two fingers inside you, your mind betrays you. You aren't feeling Ian. You're picturing Caleb. You're imagining those strong hands, those calloused fingers, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress.
When Ian’s thumb finally finds your clit, grazing the sensitive nub, the world simply... shatters.
Your head lolls back and as your pleasure peaks Caleb is the only name on the tip of your tongue.
The echoes of your climax are still rippling through your nerves when the reality of what you’ve just done slams into your consciousness like a bucket of ice water. The high vanishes, replaced by sickening clarity.
Ian is staring up at you, his hand is still between your thighs "Hey... is everything okay?" he asks softly, his voice sounding far too loud in the sudden silence. "You were... really into it a second ago..."
You bolt upright, nearly tripping over the duvet in your rush to get to your phone.
Your fingers are shaking so badly you can barely grip the device as you snatch it from the entryway table. You swipe the screen open, and your heart drops into your stomach. The notification bar is a graveyard of missed connections.
Thirteen missed calls. Over thirty unread messages. And every single one of them, every single text is punctuated by a single, chilling period.
A shiver runs down your spine as you stare at those glaring notifications. You can almost feel the weight of Caleb's quiet fury pressing in on you, heavy and suffocating. You know him well enough to know that a single, lonely period is far more dangerous than a shouting match. It’s the silence before the storm, the kind of rage that doesn't need to make noise to be absolutely terrifying.
You grip the phone so hard the cold metal bites into your palm.
The sound of water running from the kitchen sink cuts through the heavy silence. You turn to see Ian coming out of the kitchen, wiping his wet hands on his clothes, looking confused and increasingly uneasy.
Before he can even open his mouth to ask what's wrong, the lie just spills out of you, born of pure desperation. "Caleb is on his way," you blurt out, "He... he should be here in a few minutes."
Ian’s eyes go wide. He doesn't ask why he's coming over. He doesn't even say goodbye. He just bolts. He practically scrambles for the door, like a man fleeing a crime scene. The door slams shut with a resounding bang, leaving you standing there in the oppressive stillness. You are alone. And there, in the quiet, your phone screen continues to glow, its light glaring at you like an accusation.
-------------------------
Caleb’s silence expands until it fills every corner of your life, suffocating you. It’s a cold silence that makes you feel like you’re walking on a frozen lake, waiting for the ice to give way.
All day Sunday, you go through the motions, nod when people talk to you, eat your meals, smile when expected. But underneath, there’s a jagged pulse of panic. You know he knows. You can feel his gaze on you, even when he's miles away.
By Monday morning, you’re done. You can't breathe, you can't think, and you certainly can't stand the silence.
You catch the Coelum Express up to Skyhaven, your heart hammering against your ribs when you unlock Caleb’s home with your spare key. The apartment is unnervingly quiet. It’s so still that the sound of your own breath feels too loud. As you wander through the living room, you stumble across a broken vase. Shards of ceramic lay scattered across the floor like a starburst of jagged teeth. Did he do this?
You don't have time to wonder. You’re on a mission.
You start tearing through his things like someone looking for a lost part of their soul. You open drawers, rummage through closets and cabinets, finding nothing. It’s all so normal. It’s infuriating
You’re moving from room to room, looking for the eyes. You’re looking for the way he sees you when you think you're alone.
Finally, you find yourself in the bathroom, staring at your own reflection in the mirror. You look exhausted. Your eyes are dark, underlined by the shadows of two sleepless nights.
You tilt your head, squinting at the ceiling. There, tucked away in a corner where the light barely reaches, is a small, slightly crooked square. It's so subtle, so almost invisible, that if you hadn't been looking with the eyes of a person hunting for a secret, you would have missed it entirely.
Using the small stool beside the tub, you manage to hoist yourself up, your fingertips press against the drywall until click. A box tumbles into your hands, you catch it just before it hits the floor. Your hands are shaking so badly you can barely work the latch.
When the lid finally gives, the air leaves your lungs in a sharp gasp.
There are photos everywhere. Not the kind you take together in the sun, but shots captured from the shadows, you laughing in high school, you studying in college, even recent ones of you just living your life. All of them taken from a distance.
And then, the things that make your blood run cold. Ribbons you were certain you’d lost years ago, their once vibrant colors now faded and dusty, tangled like dead vines. Nestled in the middle of the mementos are two pairs of your panties. One went missing during a trip to your grandmother's back in college, the other? That one vanished just last month.
He hasn't just been watching you, he's been collecting you.
You’re still processing the depth of his obsession when a voice slices through the air.
"Happy now?"
You nearly leap out of your skin. The box slips from your numb fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud, sending the photos and the stolen fabric scattering across the cold tiles like debris from a wreck.
Caleb is standing just a few feet away. He isn't shouting, he isn't even angry in the way you expected. He's just there. Leaning casually against the doorframe, eyes fixed on you.
"What... what is all this?" you manage to stammer, though your voice is so thin it’s barely a whisper.
A low chuckle vibrates in his chest, a sound that has no business being as smooth as it is. "Are we really going to play the offended victim now?" he asks, his tone dripping with a cruel sort of mockery. He takes a step toward you, his eyes never once wavering from yours. "Or do I need to remind you about that little cameras you tucked away so... cleverly... in MY room?"
You try to act like a clueless victim, grasping at the most transparent lie in the book. "What?" the word feels pathetic the second it leaves your lips, weak, flimsy, and a little embarrassing.
He doesn't buy it for a second. He closes the distance between you, stepping into your personal space until the cramped bathroom feels like it’s shrinking, the air turning thick and stifling. Without a word, he reaches into his pocket, pulls out his phone, and holds it up like a weapon.
"Or we could just check your phone. See if there are any new notifications waiting for you. I bet a smart cookie like you has everything all figured out, don't you, Pipsqueak?"
You swallow hard, forcing yourself to stand your ground, trying desperately to flip the script before he crushes you completely.
"How many cameras do you have in my apartment?" you demand. Your voice is a little shaky, sure, but you lace it with as much accusation as you can muster.
"Enough."
The single word is final.
"How long..." you start, the question catching in your throat, but he cuts you off before you can even finish.
"Since the day you moved in"
You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, a burning blush you can't suppress. Your heart is drumming a frantic rhythm against your ribs as you struggle to find the courage to ask the one question that's been clawing at your mind.
"Did you..." you begin, your voice dropping to a humiliated whisper, "Did you watch... when I touched myself?"
He doesn't blink. He doesn't even offer the mercy of a pause. He answers instantly.
"Yes."
The word hits you with more impact than a shout ever could. You want to fight back and scream, to tell him he’s insane but the words die in your throat when you realize you are not much different.
"Just like you watched me on Friday," he adds, proving your point.
You try to move back, looking for an escape route, but the movement is futile. You’re already backed up against the hard, cold edge of the bathroom counter. "I... Caleb, I..."
"I watched every single time your hips rubbed against the mattress, searching for friction..." he pauses "...or maybe you were searching for me."
He’s so close now. You can feel the warmth radiating off him as he leans in, his hands coming to rest on the counter on either side of you. His fingers splay out, wide and firm, effectively pinning you in place.
"Except Saturday..."
"How long?" The question bursts out of you "How long did you watch us?"
His hands tighten on the marble, knuckles turning white. He leans in even further, his lips hovering just a hair's breadth from your ear.
"Long enough to know that I could have done it so much better," he whispers, and the sheer arrogance of it makes your knees weak. "I could have made you scream my name. I could have had you begging for more."
"Caleb..." your voice is a soft plea for mercy or perhaps something more.
His hands hook under your thighs and he hoists you up with a single, effortless motion. Before you can even gasp, you're perched on the cold edge of the bathroom counter, legs dangling, your face brought level with his.
"I would have licked my fingers instead of washing them like he did, I would have tasted every fucking drop of you."
The mental image of his tongue makes you ache with a sudden emptiness. A broken whimper escapes your lips, a sound of surrender you didn't even know you were making.
"Did you like it?" He digs his fingers into your hips, pulling you forward until there isn't a single inch of air left between your bodies. "Did he give you what you truly wanted?"
You stare back at him, a spark of something new igniting in your chest. If he thinks he’s the only one in this room with leverage, he’s dead wrong.
Your lips are hovering just a fraction of an inch from his when you reach down.
Your hand glides with deliberate intent, your fingertips finding the front of his pants. Under the fabric, you feel the hard, unmistakable length of him, heavy and pressing against your palm.
Caleb freezes. For a second his mask slips and you see a flicker of genuine surprise, the raw shock of a man who didn't expect his prey to bite back.
A small, triumphant smile tugs at your lips. He’s just as wrecked by this as you are, and the knowledge is intoxicating.
Before he can reclaim the control he’s so desperate to hold, you press your lips to the corner of his mouth, just barely grazing the skin, and exhale the truth like a secret.
"I was thinking about you the whole time," you murmur, the words a soft vibration against his lips. "Every touch, every moan... every single second. It’s always been you, Caleb. Always."
For a heartbeat the world stops and then he breaks.
His lips crash into yours, rough, hungry, and almost violent, demanding everything you have to give.
Your fingers weave themselves into the dark silk of his hair, pulling him closer, needing to erase the last of the distance. Your bodies are fused together, your curves molding perfectly into the hard lines of his chest. His hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers tangling deep in your hair to anchor you, to hold you steady while he ravages your mouth.
But the heat is too much to contain. You can't wait.
Driven by need, your hands drop from his hair to his waist. You go straight for his belt. The leather groans as you work it, and the metallic clink of the buckle hitting the marble countertop echoes sharply through the bathroom. You don't break the kiss for a second, tongues dancing a messy rhythm, driving him toward the edge of madness.
Caleb’s hands aren't idle, either. They’re everywhere at once. His palms catch the hem of your skirt, his fingers bunching the fabric, shoving it up, up, up until the cool air of the bathroom hits your thighs. He doesn't stop until the skirt is around your waist, leaving nothing but the thin barrier of your panties between his hands and your skin.
You hear the sound of his zipper as you pull his pants down, mixing with the quick, shaky breaths you both take. His boxers come off right after, and then his cock springs free, slapping against his stomach, thick and already leaking with need.
Your small hand wraps around him, but you can barely get your fingers to meet on the other side. The moment you touch him his hips jerk, cock throbbing against your palm. A broken groan tears from his throat, forcing him to break the kiss and rest his forehead against yours, breath coming in harsh stabs of air.
But you aren't going to let him catch his breath just yet.
You gather a mouthful of saliva, and then, opening your mouth wide, you let the spit fall from your lips, the wet, warm drool dripping down the length of his cock.
Caleb’s eyes go wide, his mouth falling open in a stunned gasp. "Fuck, Pips..." he nearly whimpers, voice cracking, "Where the hell did you learn to do that?"
You don't answer with words. Instead, your fingers begin to glide. You tease the sensitive underside, building tension, swirling the moisture around the tip of his cock until his head falls back.
The expression on his face is the kind of delicious agony that comes right before a breaking point. "Fuck," he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. "You have to... stop... because if you don't... I'm gonna..." He loses the thread, his coherent thoughts dissolving into a haze of pleasure.
He shifts his weight, his hips working of their own to guide your hand, adjusting the angle so your grip hits exactly where he needs it most. His cock is pulsing in your hand, a fast heartbeat. "Dont stop," he begs, his voice is now stripped of all his usual colonel like discipline. "Please, baby... don't stop... you're gonna...make me fucking... Unghh... cuuuuum..."
With one last stroke, Caleb cums in your hand, splattering your fingers and your covered cunt with warm streams of his release. He continues to push forward, his hips moving fast as he rides through the waves of his climax, smearing the proof of his lack of control on your hand and the fabric of your panties.
He slumps forward, resting his forehead against yours again, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. When your lips brush against his a breathless giggle escapes you.
"Is that how you do it?" Caleb asks, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear. With an impatient jerk, he yanks them down your thighs and off your legs. The scrap of lace catches on the toe of your shoe for a split second before he tosses it aside.
You cock your head to the side, one eyebrow arching in genuine confusion. "How do I do what?"
Caleb doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he sinks to his knees on the cold bathroom floor, his eyes locked on yours.
"Bring a man to his fucking knees"
His hands grip your thighs to pull you to the very edge of the counter, and then his mouth is there, lips latching onto your bare cunt.
He nestles his nose into your soft pubic hair, the warmth of his breath making you gasp, before his tongue pushes forward. He runs the flat of it in a long, slow stroke along your slit, the slick, warm muscle parting your lips before he begins to swirl around your puffy clit in a devastating circle.
Your thighs tremble uncontrollably and your toes curl inside your shoes when you fight the urge to just grind against his face.
There is a strange, invisible weight pressing against your thighs. It's a force that keeps your legs spread wide, pinning you open even as your muscles instinctively try to squeeze shut to hide from the sensation. Caleb is using his Evol.
Looking down, you meet his eyes as his tongue flicks out to lick a slow stripe up your slit, all the way from your entrance to the very tip of your clit, making the sensitive bud bounce against the tip of his tongue.
You tear your gaze away, staring at the ceiling, terrified that if you keep looking at him, you’ll shatter before you're ready.
"Look at me"
"I... I can't," you stammer, your cheeks burning with a hot blush that spreads all the way down to your chest.
Caleb lets out a sinful chuckle, a vibration that you feel much more in your pussy than in your ears. "Why not, princess?" he teases, his breath ghosting over your drenched cunt.
"Eyes on me" there is no teasing in his voice now "Look at me, or I'll stop."
Your eyes fly to his, wide and vulnerable.
"There you go" his tongue picks up the pace, flicking and swirling around your clit "You taste so good, I could eat your pretty pussy for hours."
He proves it by thrusting his tongue deep into your entrance before dragging it back up with a heavy, wet friction, finally sucking your clit into the heat of his mouth.
"You like having your fingers inside this needy little cunt, don't you?" The words are vulgar, unashamed, falling from his lips like honey. "I've seen you, countless times... fucking yourself stupid, wishing it was my cock splitting you open instead."
As he speaks, his fingers begin to dance along your inner thighs, teasing the sensitive skin just enough to keep you on the precipice.
Then, he focuses entirely on your clit again. He puckers his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves, creating a vacuum of heat. Everything in the bathroom, the gravity, the world itself simply falls apart.
When the wave of pleasure finally hits it takes over your entire consciousness. Caleb doesn't let you go, though. He works you through it, his tongue wringing out every single last drop of pleasure until you feel completely hollowed out. Only then does he finally release you, a final, parting suck sending one last, full body shudder through your limbs, leaving you clinging to the edge of the counter just to stay upright.
The hard, insistent weight of his cock pressing against your inner thigh should have been a warning sign of just how insatiable he is. The way he’d practically shredded the rest of your clothes, baring you to the air and leaving himself just as exposed made it pretty obvious, he wasn't even close to being done.
He settles himself between your splayed thighs, the fat head of his cock teasing the very edge of your soaked entrance. A part of you knows he’s going to hurt you. You know the stretch, the burn of being split open by him, is going to be more intense than anything you've ever felt. But nothing could have actually prepared you for the visceral reality of it.
The second the crown of his cock pushes past your entrance, your body goes into a panic. Your walls clench down with a futile strength, trying to fight him off, trying to keep him out. The burn is immediate. It’s a stretching ache that makes your eyes water and steals the breath from your lungs. As he continues to press forward, you feel yourself being pulled wider than you ever thought physically possible, your cunt trying to accommodate his girth as he sinks deeper and deeper.
"You're squeezing me so hard, pretty girl," he grunts "Breathe for me, baby. Just... nice and slow."
He can see the distress in your eyes, the way your face is pinched in pleasure and pain. He pauses his forward momentum, leaving half of his cock nestled inside, and ducks his head down, catching one of your nipples between his teeth.
He drags his teeth slowly over the sensitive peak, applying just the slightest, most agonizingly delicious pressure. In response, your walls clench around him even harder, the muscles fluttering as a bolt of liquid heat races through your core.
"Fuuuuck, y/n!" he has to grit his teeth, knuckles turning white as he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips, physically anchoring himself to keep from snapping his hips forward and burying himself balls deep in one thrust.
He knew he had to distract you. If he didn't help you relax and adjust to his size, he was going to lose what little self control he had left. So, he diverted his focus, lavishing all his attention on your breasts. He began circling your nipples with the tip of his tongue, tracing the delicate, sensitive edges of your areola before flicking the peaks back and forth, back and forth, driving you crazy. All the while, his hand was busy, kneading the soft weight of your other breast, rolling and plucking at the neglected nipple until it puckered into a stiff peak, mirroring the one currently in his mouth.
Under his palm, your heart beats like a trapped bird. He can hear the uneven hitch in your breath as you struggle. He knows its a lot, he knows it hurts, but he also knows that your body can take it. That with just a little more time, a little more patience, you will mold yourself around him until it feels like you were made for this.
"Shhhh, baby, that's it, just breathe through it. Feel how deep I am inside your sweet little cunt. You're doing so well. Taking me so well. Such a good girl."
His words, filthy and dripping with praise, wash over you like a balm. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you feel the tension begin to bleed out of you. Your body starting to yield to the inevitable. Your walls soften around his cock, still tight, but the sharp, stinging ache turns into something more manageable. Your breathing, too, eases into something that resembles a normal rhythm.
He didn't stop, though. He kept licking and nipping at your nipples until they were flushed a deep red and glistening, until your back was arching and your fingers were tangled deep in his hair, pulling him closer.
Instead of thrusting, he begins to roll his hips in slow circles. He wants you to feel everything, every ridge, every pulsing vein.
"Caleb..." you gasp in a broken plea. "... please"
He knows exactly what you are begging for. He feels it in the way your hips instinctively arch up to meet his rhythm, but he wants your verbal surrender.
"What? Tell me. I want to hear you say it."
His hand slides down the curve of your belly, fingers diving between your legs to find your clit. He begins to circle the swollen nub, his touch so feather light it feels like torture.
"Caleb... I need..." You choke on the words "I need you to fuck me. Deeper... please!"
With a hard thrust of his hips he buries himself to the hilt, his heavy balls slapping against your ass.
"You feel... god, you feel incredible. So fucking hot... you're perfect."
Your body has stopped fighting and started surrendering. Every time he drives into you, he strikes a spot deep inside that sends bolts of electric bliss straight to your brain. Your walls, once stubborn and resistant, are now molding to him, eagerly stretching.
He leans down, trailing open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. His day old stubble rasps against your skin, a friction that makes you squirm. When he reaches your collarbone, he pauses, his teeth grazing the bone before his lips close over it. He sucks hard, a bruising pull that you know will leave a dark mark for days.
"Please... Ca... Caleb," you manage to swallow, your voice breaking. "Fuck me faster. I want to cum, please!"
"My princess gets whatever she wants."
He begins to hammer into you, you can swear you feel the head of his cock kissing the entrance of your womb with every thrust, the rhythmic slapping of his skin against yours echoing in the room.
"I'm gonna cum! Just like that... please!" you keen, fingers scrabbling at his sweat slicked back, your nails digging into his skin hard enough to leave angry, red crescent marks. "I'm gonna cum, Caleb! I'm gonna... !"
"Let go, pretty girl, give it all to me."
Your body obeys. You tighten around him like a soft, pulsing vice, your entire being narrowing down to the feeling of him inside you as your orgasm crashes over you in a beautiful wave.
"Yes! Fuck! Just like that!"
With two final thrusts, he buries himself to your deepest reaches. Just when you think he is going to stay inside, he wrenches himself out at the last possible second.
Thick ropes of his release paint your clit and spill down onto your entrance in a messy end to the madness. He hovers over you, his eyes dark and obsessive, as he whispers a single, repeated vow against your skin.
spanking didi!caleb's ass raw and fingering his hole just because …𓂃 MDNI !
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 content warnings ♡ pesudocest, caleb calls you jiejie, brother/sister dynamics, authorative reader, dom!reader, sub!caleb, punishment, spanking, praise-humiliation mix, anal fingering, just pure filth…dead dove do not eat
ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 cherry says ♡ caleb is my perfect punishment slut. love me a mean dom reader. amen.
Caleb stands in front of you looking all tall and handsome, but the second you raise an eyebrow and pat your lap, that cocky attitude melts away. He knows he was a brat today.
“Over my lap. Now.”
He obeys like the pathetic good boy he is, stripping completely naked before draping his big, muscular body across your thighs. His face burns with shame as he settles down, his heavy cock and balls trapped between your soft thigh and his stomach, already half-hard from the humiliation.
You run your hand over his plump, firm ass, squeezing one cheek roughly.
“Look at this fat ass… grown up so nice and juicy for jiejie to punish,” you coo, voice dripping with mock sweetness. “You thought you could talk back to me earlier? Cute.”
SMACK!
Your palm comes down hard on his right cheek. The sound echoes and his ass jiggles beautifully, the flesh rippling under the impact. Caleb jolts with a choked grunt, his cock twitching against your thigh.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
You alternate between both cheeks, spanking him harder each time, watching his pale skin bloom into a pretty pink, then red. Every slap makes his plump ass bounce and shake, the sight so obscene it makes you wet.
“A-ah—! Jiejie…!” he whines, voice cracking even though he’s a grown man. His neglected cock is fully hard now, leaking all over your thigh like a desperate puppy.
“Aw, listen to you. Still crying for jiejie like when you were little,” you laugh softly, rubbing his burning cheeks before delivering another sharp series of spanks. “Your big dick is dripping everywhere, Caleb. Getting punished makes you this excited? What a perverted little brother.”
You spread his cheeks with one hand, exposing his tight pink hole. Caleb buries his face into the bed, ashamed but pushing his ass up slightly for you.
You tease his hole with two fingers, circling the rim slowly, pressing just the tip of one finger inside.
“Mmm… so tight. Even after all the times jiejie’s played with you, this greedy hole still clenches like it’s scared,” you murmur, pushing a finger deeper while your other hand keeps spanking him lightly. “You love this, don’t you? Getting spanked raw and having your ass played with like a toy.”
You add a second finger, scissoring him open while he moans pathetically, hips twitching. His cock grinds helplessly against your thigh, leaving a wet mess.
“Please… jiejie… I’ll be good— fuck—!”
You curl your fingers, stroking his prostate while landing another hard spank on his jiggling ass.
“No. Bad boys don’t get to cum so easily. You’re going to lie here and take your punishment until this ass is bright red and your hole is gaping for me. Then maybe… maybe jiejie will think about using your pathetic cock.”
You keep spanking him between fingering his ass, enjoying every jiggle, every whimper, and every throb of his neglected dick against your thigh.
His plump, reddened ass looks so fucking pretty like this — all marked up by his big sister’s hand.
