Hello guys! My account is strictly an 18+ account. Minors DNI. Everything I write is NSFW. Be mindful that I ONLY write Dark Romance so if that’s not your thing, no hard feelings. Buuut, if it is, welcome, friend! 🥰🥰
Love and Deepspace🍏🐦⬛🐰🎨❄️
Forgotten Bonds - Ch.1
Our Last Hunt - Ch.1 , Ch.2 , Ch.3 , C.h4
The Wounded Colonel - One-shot
A Whisper Of Control - Ch.1 , Ch.2 , Ch.3 ,
Caleb’s Odyssey - One-shot
Game Over Series - Caleb, Zayne, Sylus, Rafayel, Xavier
Skyhaven, once a defiant spire against the twilight was now in disarray. The air was thick with the bitter tang of scorched metal and earth. Ash drifted like snow, clinging to crushed concrete and the corpses that were scattered about like broken dolls along the halls of the crumbling building. The noise of battle had faded to a dull thrumming in his bones. Colonel Caleb had launched a full scale attack on Ever, decimating their forces and cornering the head of the corporation. Small explosions rocked the building from his troops that were fighting a distance away.
Yet, all that could cut through the ringing in his ears was her breath, a ragged, exhausted sound that made him grind his teeth. Her hands were blood soaked and gripping the weapon she should have. Her shadow stumbled, the broken window besides him, reflecting her haggarded appearance. MC forehead was slick with crimson but a stubborn defiance radiating from her even as she clutched a weapon far too heavy for her trembling hands.
“MC! You shouldn’t be here!” His voice tore from his throat. He wasn’t looking at her, his gaze was locked on the incoming envoy of armed soldiers Ever controlled. “I told you to stay out of this and let me handle this mission alone!”
Yet, she moved closer, her boots crunching on the debris. “You also told me you’d protect me from everything but who will protect you?” Her voice trembled slightly but her eyes blazed with a fierce, impossible light that was too bright, too full of a love for him. “This time… we protect each other.”
Caleb’s chest constricted, a vise tightening around his heart. Not fear. Not even the white-hot fury that had been his constant companion since he saw her enter the battle. But that old, familiar, maddening ache. It was a desperate longing for this infuriating, impossible girl who dared to challenge gods with nothing but the fierce, unwavering grit of her spirit and the stubborn, foolish hope that bloomed even in the face of annihilation.
“You think your love makes you strong?” CEO Mervin Ayer’s voice snapped across the ravaged battlefield with a tone of cruel amusement. His guards surrounded him, guns drawn and pointed at them. He leveled his own weapon, the cold steel glinting in the dying light. “Let’s see what it’s worth when it’s torn from your hands.”
Caleb moved, a surge of power erupting within him. Wild, instinctive gravitational energy twisted the air as an invisible shield coalescing around them. But he was too slow, his reflexes dulled by the sheer weight of the catastrophe he made it through to get to the boss.
MC’s eyes widen as she moved first.
“No!”
A clumsy, desperate shove, fueled by pure, unadulterated terror, sent him sprawling against the jagged remains of a wall, the impact stealing the breath from his lungs.
Then, the deafening roar of gunfire ripped through the silence. Three brutal shots shattered the air.
Two crimson blossoms erupted violently on her back, blooming instantly and staining her uniform a horrifying, expanding shade of red. The third bullet whizzed past, catching in his belated gravitational wall a fraction of a second too late.
Her body convulsed, a violent shudder that ripped through Caleb as if his own flesh were tearing. Then she collapsed like a marionette whose strings had been cleanly severed.
Caleb lunged with a strangled cry, catching her just before she slammed into the razor-edged rubble. The sheer impact of her weight in his arms was horrifyingly light, as if the life leaving her was making her hollow. Her breathing was a shallow, wet rattle, a fragile flutter like a bird with a shattered wing.
Blood. So much blood. It drenched his hands, hot and viscous, seeping through his clothes and sticking to his skin. The coppery stench filled his nostrils, suffocating him, drowning out the smell of smoke and ozone.
“No. No, no, no…!” His voice shattered, splintering into a raw, subhuman scream ripped from the marrow of his bones. It was a primal howl of despair that echoed the tearing of his very soul.
“Hey! Stay with me!” His hands shook uncontrollably, a frantic, wild plea as he clutched her against his chest, trying to press his palms over the wounds. But her blood just slipped through his fingers, mocking his strength. “I’ll fix this— I can fix this, just—”
He cradled her face, his thumbs frantically brushing against her blood-soaked cheek as if the simple act could anchor her to the earth. “Don’t close your eyes. MC, Please. Don’t—don’t leave me, little pipsqueak. Look at me.”
Her lashes fluttered, heavy and dark. Her eyes were wide, wet, and terribly unfocused as she looked up at him.
“You’re safe…” she whispered, a choked gurgle of crimson staining her lips. She tried to smile, but the corner of her mouth twitched weakly, failing to hold the shape. “That’s… good.”
“No!” Caleb’s breath hitched, a wild, clawing panic seizing his throat. “Why would you do that?! You always think your life means less than mine! It doesn't! It never did!”
Her weak, bloodstained fingers twitched, dragging across his sleeve until they found his hand. Her grip was fragile, a ghost of the strong, stubborn girl she had been only seconds ago, clinging to him like a dying ember in a storm. “Because yours… matters more to me. Skyhaven… needs you. They still… need you.”
“I need you!” The words tore from his throat like a ragged wound. His vision blurred, the edges of the ruined cityscape dissolving into a hazy, blood-tinged smear. His heart was being ripped apart, shredded into a million agonizing pieces inside his chest. "Don't do this to me… Please, please don't do this."
Her face crumpled into a silent wave of sorrow—not for herself, but for him. Always for him. She hated seeing him cry. She shook her head, a slow tremor wracking her ravaged body as a heavy breath rattled in her chest. “…It’s okay.” she breathed, the words barely a vibration against his skin.
His power, entirely untethered and wild now, twisted around them, warping the very fabric of gravity into violent, snapping knots. “Don’t talk like you’re leaving. Don’t you dare—”
“It’ll be… okay…”
“It won’t!” Caleb whimpered, a broken, childlike sob escaping him. He pressed his hands violently against her ribs, his knuckles turning white as he tried to physically force the life back into her body. “It won't. You can't leave me, MC. I don't know how to— how to be without you—"
“Promise me…” Her lips barely moved, her voice dropping into a terrifyingly quiet whisper. “Live. Even if… it hurts. Even if I’m not there.”
Caleb could only stare down at her, tears hot and fast streaming down his face, splashing onto her pale cheeks and washing away the blood. His mind screamed for him to agree, to offer her some semblance of peace, but the words choked him. He couldn’t promise existence in a world where she didn't breathe.
“I—” His voice broke on the shard of glass lodged in his throat.
Her smile returned one last time, it was faint, fragile, but unbearably loving. “Be happy… for me, ‘kay? My Caleb..."
Then she jerked once. A single, violent spasm ripped through her small frame, and then her hand slipped from his, dropping limply onto the rubble.
Her eyes remained open, staring blankly at the smoke-choked heavens. But the brilliant, fiercely stubborn light behind them disappeared, leaving her irises dull and hollow. Like a candle snuffed out by a cold wind.
Caleb froze, his lungs seizing. The wet, rattling sound of her breath was replaced by an absolute, suffocating silence. He waited. One second. Two. Hoping for another gasp, another twitch of her fingers, a sarcastic comment to break the nightmare but nothing came.
Against his chest, her skin began to lose its heat with a terrifying speed, the coldness of the rubble seeping beneath her seeped into her flesh.
No sound escaped his lips. There was only the sickening warmth of her blood cooling on his hands, and the gaping void where everything he had ever fought for had just been extinguished. Caleb shook, his mouth opened, whispering her name, pleading with her cooling body to come back to him. He couldn’t hear anything but the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears.
And the world shattered.
A hollow silence descended, a crushing weight in his chest where his heart used to beat. It was a void, an emptiness that stretched into infinity. He felt it before it manifested, instinctually wrapping around himself and her in a protective shield of gravity. Bullets flew in his direction but were repelled by his shield. A sickening scream emitted from the depths of his soul, his grief so raw and untamed reached out, and the universe answered in kind. A dark force twisted space and time into an unnatural, swirling vortex of black and purple.
It unraveled behind him, a silent scream in the fabric of the world. The building buckled unnaturally, the walls and ceiling folding in on themselves before being sucked into the massive black hole that was ever growing. Nothing escaped its orbit, pulling bodies, technology, weapons. Everything and anything unfortunate enough to be writhing its radius.
Then came the light, the building was gone. Then the air, the sound, the memory of Skyhaven’s skyline. That’s all that was left. The Void wasn’t a power anymore, it was hunger. A maw of absolute negation, gaping wider with every shattered piece of Caleb’s heart.
It consumed the entire city, without care, without prejudice. Everything in sight was sucked into the black void but him and MC. They were contained in an orb of pure gravity, elevated in the sky, untouched from the carnage that he unleashed on the city.
The world as far as he could see ended in silence. It didn’t with a scream, not with an explosion but with the absence of her.
Caleb evol gently set them down amongst the rubble of what remained of the city. He knelt in the ruins, her body cradled against his chest, his fingers tangled in the fabric of her armor, sticky with blood. The battlefield around them was a graveyard of twisted metal and shattered stone, the air thick with the scent of crisp freshness and iron. But none of it mattered. Not the distant wail of collapsing buildings, not the crackle of dying fires. Only the weight in his arms. The wrongness of it.
The Void pulsed behind him, silent now, sated. Dissipating into nothingness. But the pressure in his chest lingered, unrelenting. He rocked her gently, forehead pressed to hers. Her skin still held the echo of warmth. That was the worst part. The cruelest.
"Wake up." A command. A plea. "T-this isn’t funny, MC. Wake up…" His breathing stuttered as he spoke.
But her lashes didn’t flutter. Her lips didn’t twitch into that stubborn smirk he loved. She just lay there, slack and lifeless, the ghost of her last smile still etched into her pale face.
Something in his chest split.
A sound tore from him. It wasn’t a scream nor a sob, but something raw and guttural, an animalistic noise of pure anguish. His grip tightened, his nails biting into his own palms.
"No. No, no, NO!"
Above them, the sky darkened. Not with clouds, not with smoke, but with something hungry.
The Void stirred above him again.
It uncoiled from the pit of his rage, a living thing, ravenous and wild. He felt it in his teeth, in the marrow of his bones. That power he’d always kept leashed, now snapping free. Gravity twisted the air around him once more. The rubble at his feet lifted, hovering like debris caught in a tidal wave.
‘What does it matter now? What was it all for…?’ Ever was dust. Skyhaven was already her tomb. He would make it his final resting place as well. He would be with her, even in death.
‘Let it take everything’
He felt nothing but earth shattering sorrow, heard nothing but the phantom echo of her gentle voice calling to him. The cold seep of death that clung to her body was too much for him to bear.
“If this is the cost of love… then let the void consume it all.” As he said his last words, the void lowered a distance from him.
In the silent aftermath, amidst the swirling chaos of what remained, a flicker of something captured his gaze. Not of light, but of form, impossibly solid against the backdrop of nothingness.
Caleb’s breath stalled. The Void recoiled like a beaten dog, disappearing completely.
“No...”
There she stood. Alive. His MC.
His head snapped up, his grief-stricken gaze locking onto the impossible figure standing in the desolate expanse. She stood as if born of the void itself, untouched by the annihilation. And in her face… he saw her. Not her, not exactly. But the echo was undeniable, a cruel, breathtaking twist of fate in the heart of his despair. A jolt of disbelief, sharp and disorienting, pierced through the numbing grief.
She wasn’t as he’d last seen her… broken, bleeding, cold to the touch. No. She was whole. Staring at the wasteland around them with wide, disbelieving eyes. The ruins of Skyhaven stretched behind her, half-consumed by the jagged edges where his power had stopped. As if the Void itself had choked on her existence.
Her gaze found him.
‘MC…? No… it’s not possible.’
You stood amidst the fractured remnants of Skyhaven, your body aching, a roadmap of bruises blossoming on your skin from the force of the blast. One moment, laughter had echoed around you as you walked with friends, the vibrant energy of the city thrumming beneath your feet. The next, a cataclysm. Silence. Ruin. An emptiness so profound it swallowed sound. Your ears still rang, your thoughts a jumbled mess of confusion and terror. ‘Where are they? What happened?’ And then your eyes met his.
‘Mina? Liam?’ Your gaze, wild with panic. You clawed at the ruins beneath yourself, a desperate, futile search for her friends, for something familiar, for anyone. But there was no signs of life anywhere. Amongst the debris, the thick cloud of dust that obstructed your view before confronting the fact that you were all alone.
‘How could this even be possible?’ Tears welled up in your eyes, struggling to come to terms with the very real possibility that they might actually be dead. You sat down on the uncomfortable ground, pulling your scraped up legs to your chest and cried, feeling completely helpless.
That’s when you heard it. The most heart wrenching wail that startled you out of the self pitiable state. You stood up on shaky legs, almost toppling over from the unstable foundation.
Your head whipped back and forth, listening carefully and straining your stinging eyes to try and find the person. You believe that whoever shouted that way must be injured or be with someone who was injured. ‘I might be able to help.’ Unfortunately, you weren’t a doctor but you’ve been EMS trained and could possibly offer assistance.
After a moment, your eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow and she walked forward, determination shining in your glossy stare. Then, through the haze of dust and disbelief, you saw him.
He sat amidst the wreckage, a solitary figure cradling a still form. Even from this distance, the raw, palpable grief radiating from him was a physical force, a wave of despair washing over you. But it was his face that made her pause. It was like staring at a ghost, a flicker of a half-forgotten dream. A shiver of unease crawling down your spine, something in your gut told you to steer clear of him.
‘He doesn’t look hurt? But he looks so… broken.’
The man simply stood there, amidst the devastation he seemed to embody, his shadowed gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that stole your breath. His eyes were hollowed, a deep violet haunted by a pain that seemed to mirror the utter destruction surrounding you. For a moment, you were trapped in his gaze, a silent, desperate question hanging in the dust-choked air between you. ‘Why is he looking at me like that? Why does he look like he’s seen a ghost?’
Caleb’s arms tightened around MC’s stiff, lifeless body, like a desperate need to anchor him to reality. ‘She’s gone. She’s really gone. I’m seeing things.’ He couldn’t let go. Not yet. This was all that remained of his world, the tangible proof that she had existed, that their love had been real. ‘My MC. My light.’
But his gaze kept drifting back to the figure standing silently amidst the ruins. The echo. The impossible resemblance. His mind struggled to reconcile the horrific reality of his loss with this sudden, inexplicable appearance of this doppelganger.
‘How? How can someone look so much like her? On the very edge of oblivion… I was ready to—’ He shakes his head. It felt like a cruel jest, a phantom conjured by his shattered psyche. ‘Is this a trick? Is my mind finally broken?’ He was sure of it. Maybe it was his mind trying to comfort him in his last moments
He stood up amidst the devastation, cradling a lifeless figure, his eyes burning with a raw intensity that seemed to pierce right through you. There was a wildness in his gaze, a desperate hunger that sent shivers down your spine.
Caleb’s mind, for a fleeting moment, wrestled with the impossibility of the situation. The resemblance was too perfect, too uncanny. ‘It’s her face. Her eye color.’ But deep down, a sliver of lucidity remained. ‘No. Her warmth is gone. Her light… when she looks at me…’ He knew. He knew this wasn’t MC, Mc’s body was in his arms. This stranger held a different stillness, an unfamiliar fear directed at him that felt wrong. He couldn’t understand why he felt that way, a stranger shouldn’t matter.
But the promise he left unanswered, the desperate vow to live, to somehow find happiness even in the face of this soul crushing loss… it twisted within him. He looked down at MC in his arms, shedding a few more tears from his red rimmed eyes.
‘You told me to live. To be happy.’ This was a sign. A second chance, however warped, however impossible. His broken mind latched onto the idea with a terrifying certainty. ‘I can’t do that without you. I won’t do that without you.’ He wouldn’t let this echo disappear. This was a twisted, cruel gift. A lifeline in the abyss. He was unworthy but he was going to take it.
With one last, lingering look at the still face in his arms, he bid a silent farewell to the love he’d lost. ‘Goodbye, my love. I tried.’ Caleb said before a flicker of something cold and resolute hardened his gaze. He gently laid MC’s body amidst the debris, a final resting place in the world he had destroyed in her name.
Then his eyes locked onto you, and he moved. The raw power that had just annihilated a city now propelled him towards you like a predator drawn to its prey. ‘She’ll be mine now. My last chance.’
As Caleb moved, the silence of the void that was no longer there seemed to press in on you, amplifying the sound of his approach.The almost imperceptible shift in the debris around him as his evol smoothly propelled him forward. Each movement was deliberate, his intense gaze never leaving yours.
‘She looks so much like her. It’s… almost exact. Just… softer. Curvier.’ His grief momentarily subsided, replaced by a strange sense of awe and a familiar possessiveness. This wasn't MC, but the resemblance was a balm to his ravaged soul, and your… plumpness… was undeniably appealing as you are filled out in all the right places.
You stood frozen, your heart pounding against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat in the echoing silence. He was coming closer. The raw power that radiated from him was palpable, a silent threat in the emptiness. Your mind raced, desperately trying to make sense of the horrifying events and this terrifying stranger.
“S-stay back. Please, just stay back.”
Caleb stopped a few feet away, the distance feeling both too far and suffocating. His hollow eyes, still shadowed with grief but now overlaid with a strange light of approval, scanned your face and your body. ‘Not MC. Different. But… exquisite.’ He found himself appreciating the subtle curves that MC hadn't possessed.
"Who are you?" His voice was rough from yelling but holding an air of curiosity. "What's your name?"
You could only stare up at him, your breath caught in your throat. Shock had stolen your voice. He was impressive in stature, powerful, and the grief clinging to him was almost a tangible force. Your eyes darted around the wasteland, a desperate plea for escape in a place where there was none.
With a subtle flex of his power, Caleb lifted you effortlessly into the air, drawing you towards his body. You gasped, your feet dangling in the emptiness. He wrapped a strong arm around your waist, his grip firm. With his other hand, he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.
‘So like her. The same fire… almost. And this softness…’ He marveled at the uncanny resemblance, the delicate curve of your jaw, the wide, fearful eyes that mirrored MC's in their shape but held a different kind of vulnerability. His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek. ‘Perfect.’
Panic finally broke through your shock. You struggled in his hold, pressing your hands against his chest, trying to create distance, but his grip was like steel. He chuckled, a low, humorless sound. ‘So much weaker than her.’ A flicker of disdain crossed his features, quickly replaced by a possessive gleam. ‘No matter. She’s mine now.’
Suddenly, a high-pitched, chilling screech echoed in the distance, cutting through the silence of the void. You flinched violently, your eyes widening with a fresh wave of terror. The sound was alien, predatory.
Caleb, initially lost in his appraisal of you, barely registered the sound. His focus was solely on the woman in his arms. But then, he saw your reaction, the raw terror that eclipsed even your terror of him.
Another screech, closer this time, sent a tremor through the debris.
‘Wanderers.’ A cold realization dawned on Caleb. Skyhaven or what used to be Skyhaven was defenseless. Those monsters drawn to the aftermath of such immense power would be filtering in with no fleet to keep them in check. He looked down at you, a cruel calculation in his eyes.
"Listen to me." He said, his voice low and urgent. "Out here, you‘re defenseless. Those things will tear you apart." He gestured vaguely into the echoing emptiness. "Come with me. Be mine. And I'll protect you." His gaze hardened.
"Refuse, and I leave you here. Your choice."
Your mind reeled. The horrifying creatures, the desolate void, and the insane man holding you captive. It wasn't a choice at all. Survival screamed within you.
"I… I’ll go with you." Your voice trembled, barely a whisper.
"Say it properly." Caleb ordered, his grip tightening slightly. "If you want my help. Say, 'I choose you, Gege.'"
You choked out the words, your voice trembling with a mixture of terror and a desperate will to survive. "I... I choose you... Gege." The unfamiliar title felt foreign on your tongue, a surrender to the terrifying reality of your situation.
A genuine smile, the first he'd worn all day stretched across Caleb's face. It was a chilling sight, devoid of warmth, reminiscent of a predator satisfied with its claim. ‘Her voice... it’s softer than MC's. Almost too sweet.’ He found himself oddly pleased by the delicate sound, a strange counterpoint to her fuller figure. ‘It suits her.’
“Good girl. Gege will take good care of you now.” He said, praising you before reaching to pat your head affectionately.
‘This isn’t her. Not truly.’ A small voice inside his head reminded him. But you wore her face, her eyes, her image too closely. And for Caleb, after having his heart shatter into a million pieces and spiraling, maybe that was enough.
Effortlessly, he scooped you up into his arms, lifting you off the rubble as if you weighed nothing at all. The raw power that emanated from him hummed along your skin as he used his evol to propel you both upwards, soaring high above the ravaged landscape. Unbeknownst to you, he’d used his power to carry the body of the woman he was cradling moments before, trailing after you both as you ascended. The distant screeches of the wanderers faded below, a terrifying threat temporarily negated by your forced compliance.
Summary: It started out fine, when MC decided to try out a new game. He even played with her but he quickly got bored and unfortunately, she quickly became hooked. He’s barely got any attention. He needs to fix this, he wouldn’t let his precious bride obsess over anything besides him.
Warnings‼️: NSFW, Cunnilingus, Overstimulation
Word count: 1.7k
The glow of the monitor painted Y/n's face in flickering hues of deep ocean blue and neon red. Her fingers flew across the mechanical keyboard with a terrifying, rhythmic speed, her focus entirely swallowed by the flashing pixels on the screen. A soft, frustrated hiss escaped her lips as her character narrowly dodged an attack, her lower lip caught firmly between her teeth in absolute concentration.
Across the room, Rafayel slumped in the shadows of her gaming room, the picture of theatrical misery.
For weeks, he had been relegated to the periphery of her life. He, Lemuria's god, her husband, was being ruthlessly ghosted for a digital avatar. At first, it had been a shared joke, he’d even humored her by playing a few rounds, quickly growing bored of the repetitive flashing lights. But then she got hooked. And the tragedy began.
Every evening followed the same insufferable routine. She would breeze past him with a distracted murmur, collapse into her ergonomic chair, and vanish into that virtual wasteland. No lingering kisses hello. No playing with his hair while he sketched. No sweet teasing or spicy banter. Not even a passing glance in his direction. Just the endless, mocking click-clack of her keys.
His patience was already a shallow pool when it came to his bride and it had officially dried up. If she was going to play this game, she was going to play by his rules. He was going to make sure that from this night on, every single time she looked at that monitor, her body would only remember him.
The gaming chair creaked softly as she leaned forward, her thighs pressing against the edge of the desk as the intensity of her match spiked.
Rafayel’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smirk. Perfect.
He moved with the silent, predatory grace inherent to his nature, slipping off the couch and dropping to his hands and knees. The carpet was rough beneath his palms as he crawled toward her, a beautiful, petulant sea god reduced to stalking her ankles. As he drew closer, the radiating heat of her bare legs enveloped him, accompanied by the intoxicating scent of her vanilla lotion and the distinct, sweet aroma of her skin. It filled his lungs, making his head spin.
And she didn't even notice. She was too busy barking orders at her digital teammates through her headset.
"No, no, no! Why would you rush the objective like that?!" she groaned, her fingers a blur on the keys.
Rafayel tilted his head, resting his chin lightly against her knee, and exhaled a slow, deliberate breath. The hot air ghosted over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
Y/n twitched, her brows furrowing in confusion, but her eyes remained glued to the screen.
‘Oh, this was going to be fun.’
With agonizing slowness, Rafayel slid himself completely beneath the tight clearance of her desk. His long limbs made the space cramped, but he adapted seamlessly, parting her knees and settling his broad shoulders right between her legs. His long, elegant fingers—the hands of a master painter—began to trace the hem of her loose shorts. It was a feather-light touch, barely there, a tease meant to drive her crazy. Then, he dragged a single, sharp fingernail along the soft skin just above her knee.
Y/n’s breath hitched. Her fingers stumbled, missing a key entirely. "R-Raf—?" her voice wavered, a sudden tremor breaking through her authoritative gaming tone.
"Keep playing." He murmured against her skin, his lips brushing the soft curve of her inner knee, his voice dropping into that smooth, melodious tone that usually meant he was up to no good. "Unless you want to lose, of course."
On the screen, her avatar froze dead in its tracks.
"Ah-ah." Rafayel nipped lightly at her skin, his teeth grazing her thigh before sucking a dark, deliberate mark just above the lace trim of her shorts. "Focus, Cutie. Your little friends are waiting."
She let out a strangled whimper, her hands frantically fumbling back to the keyboard, but the damage was done. Rafayel could hear the ragged catch in her chest, could feel the delicious, involuntary trembling of her thighs against his shoulders as he reached up and ruthlessly dragged her shorts aside.
He didn't give her an inch to process or recover. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her underwear, he tugged them down just enough to bare her entirely to his gaze. He leaned in, pressing his mouth against the burning heat of her innermost thigh, biting down just shy of too hard.
"Fuck…!" Y/n’s hands slammed against the desk, her posture jolting so violently that her headset slipped down her cheek.
Through the tiny speakers of the dangling headset, the confused voices of her guildmates echoed into the room. "MC? You good? Did you just get hit?"
"Yeah, uh... m-massive frame drop." She choked out, her voice tight, strained, and entirely unconvincing.
Rafayel grinned against her wet skin, his eyes flashing with triumph. ‘Frame drop. Sure.’
He slid his hands upward, his fingers digging possessively into her hips, anchoring her to the seat. His tongue traced a slow, torturous, upward path, savoring the taste of her, relishing the way she practically vibrated with the effort to ignore him. She was trying so hard to keep her hands on the controls, trying to pretend her husband wasn't currently worshiping her under her desk, but her character on-screen was wildly spinning in circles.
"Darn it!" Y/n gasped as her character died in a spectacular burst of pixels. Again.
"You're terribly distracted, Cutie." he teased, his voice a muffled, vibrating purr against her core. "Tsk. Such bad form. And after all the time you spent practicing."
"Y-You're... oh god, Raf... you're cheating!"
"Mm. Maybe." He looked up, his face flushed with heat, his gaze heavy and darkened with a terrifyingly beautiful hunger. "But you're dripping, sweetheart. So who's really breaking the rules here?"
"Raf, please, I can't—"
"You can." He whispered, cutting her off. His thumb pressing firmly against her swollen clit, his voice dripping with ancient, undeniable promise. "You just don't want to admit that I'm much more interesting than a bunch of pixels."
To prove his point, he showed her exactly what she had been missing for the last three weeks.
His first lick was slow, a wide, flat stroke of his tongue that drank her in from bottom to top. Y/n arched violently in her chair, her heels digging into the floor. The second stroke was sharper, faster, his tongue swirling expertly around her most sensitive point. By the third, all thoughts of her guild, her rank, and her precious game vanished into thin air. Her hands abandoned the keyboard entirely, plunging downward into his hair, her fingers twisting into his soft, messy locks to drag him closer.
On screen, the flashing, bold red letters of GAME OVER illuminated the dark room.
Neither of them cared.
Rafayel hummed in deep, resonant satisfaction, his lips closing fully over her. He had her undivided attention and he relished in it. Y/n cried out, her head falling back against the headrest, her hands scrambling across the slick surface of the desk for purchase as the headset clattered uselessly to the floor. Her teammate’s voices were completely cut off, completely forgotten. Rafael pushed her chair back, following her on his knees before hoisting her legs over his broad shoulders and diving in once more.
He drew it out with the patience of a skilled artist, the ragged, broken rhythm of her gasps, the desperate tilt of her hips chasing his mouth. He slipped two fingers deep inside her channel, curling them precisely, making her rock helplessly against his face. Her moans filled the quiet room, a far sweeter sound to his ears than the clicking of any keyboard.
Y/n came so hard she forgot how to breathe. A broken, breathless sob escaped her parted lips as she rode his face and fingers, her hips stuttering against him. Her hands tightened in his hair, pulling hard enough to sting, her body shivering violently as she clamped down around his fingers.
Rafayel groaned as he lapped up her sweet nectar, his tongue swiping at her entrance with long strokes of his tongue as he drank her in. Y/n whimpered and flinched away from overstimulation but Rafayel only tightened his grip on her thighs, he was far from done with her. She felt the way his lips pulled into a sly smirk against her quivering thighs. Y/n’s eyes widen in fear and anticipation, she knew immediately what he planned to do but she hoped she was wrong.
”Raf…?” She panicked, pushing at his face with her small hands, yet he didn’t budge. If anything, he pressed his face deeper into her drenched folds, his tongue entering her core with ease.
“Rafayel!” Y/n squealed and arched, gripping his hair once more as she tried to pull him away. She begged and pleaded as the overwhelming, painful pleasure began to take hold of her body but it fell on deaf ears. Rafayel didn’t let budge as he ate her sweet flower to completion again.
Y/n pouted and glared at him halfheartedly, ready to push him away again but just like before, he held her in place. Rafayel used his tongue to drive her over the edge again and again, taking his time as if she wasn’t begging for mercy. He didn’t dare to stop until she was a mess of tears, sweat and slick. He may have been a benevolent god of the seas but right now, he was just a starved man and he’s need for her was as vast as the ocean. By the time he decided to give her a break, she was like liquid in the gaming chair.
Rafayel slowly pulled his mouth away, a string of silver saliva mixed. With her essence connecting them in the dim light. He rested his forearms on her trembling thighs, looking up at her dazed, flushed, and utterly ruined face with a soft, victorious smile.
"Now…" Rafayel murmured, licking his lips deliberately as his thumb stroked her sensitive inner thigh. "Who has your full attention?"
Summary: Sylus supports Y/n in everything. As long as he is the main character in her life, he’s happy to see her happy. But she has ignored his calls one too many times.
Warnings‼️: NSFW, Smut, Rough Sex, dom!Sylus, PIV
Word count: 2.6k 🐦⬛🖋️
Sylus had always been patient. Too patient, perhaps, for a man of his nature.
For weeks, he had watched from the periphery as Y/N’s obsession with Eternal Realms consumed her. He’d sit in the armchair across the room, the amber glow of a glass of whiskey in his hand, listening to the frantic, rhythmic click-clack of her mechanical keyboard. He watched the colorful, artificial light of the monitor wash over her face, turning her eyes into reflecting pools of neon blue and purple. He heard her breathless, genuine gasps of excitement over digital loot drops—a sound that used to belong entirely to him.
And he’d allowed it. He let her have her little digital sanctuary. Because at the end of the night, when the screen finally clicked off, she would still crawl into his lap, warm and pliable, melting into his touch. As long as she still gasped his name in the dark, he was willing to share her attention with a fantasy world.
But then, the silence started.
The first time she let his call ring through to voicemail, he let it slide, chalking it up to a chaotic boss fight. By the fifth time, a cold, quiet anger settled into his bones. Sitting in his car outside, he had pulled up the game's companion app. Her status blinked back at him: In a Party. Y/n’s mic icon bounced with activity as she chatted. Through the open doors of the mansion's second floor, the faint, tinny sound of her laughter drifted down to him. She was laughing with some faceless guildmate, a sound so bright it made his jaw ache with a sudden, violent tension.
A dark temptation had crossed his mind. He could easily buy out a high-level account, hunt her down in the digital wild, and crush her character into absolute oblivion. He could orchestrate a humiliation so complete her precious party would abandon her, watching the pixels of her hard-earned armor shatter under his heel. He had the power, the money, and the cruelty to do it.
But he didn't want to break her toys. He didn't want to see her beautiful eyes red-rimmed and crying over a game. No, he just wanted her to remember who she belonged to. He wanted her to remember reality—where her husband was.
On this particular night, when Y/n finally stumbled through the bedroom door at 2 AM, the mansion was entirely dark, save for the pale, ghostly light of her laptop screen left open on her desk upstairs. Y/n froze, her eyes locking instantly with a familiar pair of stunning ruby orbs.
Sylus was waiting.
He was lounging on their bed, completely unbothered by the dark, the platinum wedding ring on his finger catching the faint light of the monitor. He was scrolling through his phone lazily on the mattress, a rhythmic tap-tap-tap of his fingers that felt like a countdown. The air in the room felt heavy, thick with the scent of his expensive cologne, gunpowder, and something distinctly dangerous.
"Sylus—" Her voice cracked slightly, cutting through the low hum of the laptop fan.
"You didn't answer your phone, sweetie."
His voice wasn't loud. It was low, a smooth, gravelly purr that vibrated right through the air. It sent an involuntary shiver straight down her spine.
She swallowed hard, her throat tight and dry. "I... I was in the middle of a raid. I thought you’d be busy with work tonight, so I wasn’t really paying attention. The guild needed me tonight, I couldn't just back out—"
He didn't let her finish her excuses. In one fluid, terrifyingly silent motion, he crossed the room. Before she could even blink, his shadow eclipsed her, crowding her body directly against the cold wood of the bedroom door. The sudden contrast of his radiating body heat against the chilly air made her breath hitch.
Before she could pull away, his hand shot out, caging her wrist and pinning it flat against the door beside her head. The grip was firm, not painful enough to bruise, but entirely inescapable. With his free hand, he flipped his phone around, the illumination cutting through the dark to reveal the harsh reality: seven missed calls glaring back at her in a bright red font.
"I see." He murmured. He leaned in closer, the heavy heat of his chest pressing flush against hers, trapping the air in her lungs. His lips brushed the sensitive, exposed skin of her ear, his breath hot against her neck. "Do I need to remind you who comes first?"
Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird, a frantic rhythm he could undoubtedly feel. "N-no..."
"Good." His head dipped and she felt the sharp scrape of his teeth grazing her pulse point, right where her blood was rushing. A soft gasp escaped her lips, her knees turning to water beneath her. "Because I’d hate to ruin your fun."
He pocketed his phone before slowly sliding his hand down her side. The fabric of her oversized sweater swished under his palm, a whisper of sound in the quiet room. His fingers hooked into the hem, his knuckles brushing the bare skin of her waist and sending a jolt of electricity through her. Sylus yanked the garment smoothly up and over her head in one demanding, possessive motion. He tossed it into the corner of the room, his crimson eyes locking onto hers.
"But if you sideline me for a bunch of pixels again, Y/n... I won't be this nice."
She gasped, a sharp intake of air rattling in her throat as his bare, calloused palm cupped her breast. The sudden heat of his skin was an electric shock against her chest, his heavy thumb immediately finding her nipple and circling it roughly through the thin, scratching friction of her lace bra.
"Sylus, I—"
"I just might buy that gaming company and ban your account completely." He cut in. His voice didn't rise, but it carried the low, heavy resonance of his absolute seriousness.
Y/n’s jaw dropped. Her chest heaved against his palm as she stared up at him in sheer, wide-eyed disbelief. “You wouldn’t!”
“Of course I wouldn’t, Kitten.” He chuckled, the low, rich vibration rumbling deep in his chest and pressing directly into hers, though his eyes remained entirely dark, devoid of any real amusement.
Y/N let out a ragged, trembling sigh of relief, her tense shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch.
“Though, the idea did cross my mind.”
She pursed her lips, a final, desperate flash of defiance sparking through her shock. “Bully.”
“Ah. I finally got you to talk to me, and now you call me names?" A dangerous, razor-thin smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, his gaze dropping to her lips. "What an audacious little kitten you are."
Before the words could fully register, his fingers hooked firmly into the elastic waistband of her leggings. With one sharp, downward jerk of his iron wrist, he tore the fabric down her thighs. She yelped at the sudden, biting rush of cool air against her bare skin, but the sound was instantly smothered.
Sylus silenced her with a bruising, heavy kiss. His tongue claimed her mouth with a fierce, possessive hunger that cut off her oxygen entirely. In the same second, he wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her effortlessly off her feet as if she weighed nothing at all, and tossed her onto the center of the bed.
The mattress dipped under his sudden, heavy weight as he followed her down. "You want to play games?" he murmured, his voice a gravelly whisper as he crawled over her, trapping her beneath the heavy span of his torso. His ruby eyes burned with a dark, predatory heat. "Let's play."
His hand fisted into her hair, the soft strands wrapping around his silver rings as he yanked upward just enough to tilt her head back, exposing the delicate line of her throat. Simultaneously, his other hand slid down, grasping her panties and ruthlessly ripping the flimsy lace before tossing the ruined fabric away. She whimpered against his jaw, but he didn't give her a single second to protest.
Two fingers plunged into her without warning, driving deep into her core. Slick warmth instantly gathered in her small channel, easing his entry as he curled his fingers immediately against her sweet spot with agonizing precision.
"Fuck…!" she gasped.
"You think I don't know?" His teeth grazed her pulse point, biting just hard enough to make her inhale sharply as his fingers worked inside her with a deep, punishing rhythm that forced her hips off the sheets. "You moan for strangers in voice chat when you lose. You whimper when they praise your DPS. But this—" He hooked his fingers sharply, intentionally hitting the nerve and wringing a choked, pathetic sob from her throat. "—is the only orgasm you'll have tonight. And it's mine."
Her thighs trembled violently, her knees shaking as her nails carved deep half-moons into the iron muscles of his forearms. But Sylus only smirked at her resistance, intentionally slowing his pace, dragging his fingers out to the very entrance before pushing back in at a torturous, agonizing crawl.
"See?" he whispered, leaning down so his hot breath coated her damp lips, watching her hips jerk instinctively against his knuckles, desperate for the friction. "This is all you really care about." His thumb began to circle her clit, slow and heavy, pressing just hard enough to make her vision blur with tears. "Not your guild. Not your rank. Me."
She choked on a ragged moan as he suddenly added a third finger, stretching her ruthlessly, filling her to the absolute brink. "S-Sylus, please—!"
"Beg."
She shook her head against the pillow, her stubborn pride flaring even through the hazy, overwhelming cloud of pleasure, until he withdrew his hand entirely. The sudden, freezing emptiness left her twitching, her slick inner muscles clenching desperately around nothing but empty air.
"Then I'll leave you just like this. Dripping. Unsatisfied." He brought his hand up between their faces, deliberately licking her own slick warmth from his fingers. His eyes held hers the entire time, almost completely black with an insatiable hunger. "Unless you want to apologize properly?"
The visual of his dominance completely shattered the last of her resolve. "I’m sorry, Sy. Please… I need you." she whimpered, her voice breaking as she reached for him.
"Good girl."
He gripped her hips, hauling her body toward him across the plush surface of the bed and shoving her legs wide apart. The heavy clank of his belt buckle echoed sharply in the quiet bedroom. His grip was bruising, his fingers digging into her skin as he dragged her hips flush against his, his thick cock pressing firmly against her slick core. He shifted his weight, rocking his hips against her to deliberately tease her clit, coating himself in her essence as she mewled sweetly for him.
"That's it, sweetie. Sing for me." He groaned softly as he moved, his head catching at her entrance.
When he finally sheathed himself inside her, there was no hesitation. Sylus slammed into her. The sheer size of him stretched her to the absolute brink, burying himself so deeply that she felt the heavy thud of his hips align perfectly against her own. Her back arched completely off the bed, a high, broken gasp tearing from her throat as her internal muscles clamped frantically around him.
Her tight walls squeezed him as if it were his first time taking her, and he couldn’t stop a low growl from escaping his lips. He paused, letting her feel him, making sure she knew exactly how deeply he possessed her. He remained still for a long, torturous moment, letting her body adjust, enjoying the way her core clenched and unclenched around him. Sylus flashed a cocky grin at her already quivering walls. He leaned down, covering her body with his own, his lips grazing the shell of her ear.
“I’m going to show you exactly how much of a bully I can be.” He whispered, gathering both of her wrists into one hand and pinning them securely above her head on the pillow. He used his free hand to grip the back of her neck firmly, staring down into her hazy eyes, their noses almost touching.
“Eyes on me.”
Those were his last words before he immediately began ramming into her with punishing, heavy thrusts. She cried out in a mix of overwhelming pleasure and intensity, clawing at the sheets while her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. The sudden, desperate movement only emboldened him. Sylus shuddered, his groans catching in his throat before his lips crashed down onto hers in a bruising, breathless kiss.
“Sy…” she whimpered in between the frantic collisions of their lips. She loved every dominant second of it, and he knew it. He knew his woman better than she knew herself.
Y/N was completely overwhelmed beneath him, balanced precariously on the very cusp of her release. Her mind emptied of everything but the rhythmic sensation of him ruthlessly targeting her sweet spot. She threw her head back, tossing from side to side on the pillow, her whimpers turning into consistent, ragged moans. Every time she tried to chase the movement, Sylus would shift his weight, slowing down or pressing harder, entirely controlling when and how she felt pleasure.
Every heavy, driving thrust was sweet torture for her neglect, burying himself so deeply she could feel the weight of him in her core. Every breathless, broken gasp she uttered was a complete surrender to his claim. The bedroom faded into nothing but the wet, slapping sound of colliding skin and the ragged edge of their breathing.
"Tell me who you're thinking about." He growled, a dark, breathless demand as he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, driving her closer and closer to the edge.
"You!" she cried out, her voice breaking as the friction inside her built into a blinding, coiled heat. "Only you, Sylus... please!"
"Good girl."
With a final, brutal surge, her vision whited out completely. Her body convulsed violently around him in a blinding release. Sylus buried his face in the crook of her neck, chasing his own climax and growling her name like a spell into her skin. He marked her mind and body in ways no digital world ever could as he finally spilled himself deep inside her.
Y/N lay entirely boneless and shivering against the tangled sheets, panting heavily as her body continued to twitch from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She felt the heavy shift as Sylus began to soften within her before he slowly, deliberately pulled out. She let out a small hiss at the drag of his member leaving her, then shuddered as the warm rush of his seed began to leak from her swollen core.
Sylus leaned back on his knees, admiring his handiwork with an air of absolute victory. He stood up, methodically adjusting his clothes, his breathing slowing back to its usual calm cadence. With a slow, deliberate movement, he picked up her ruined panties from the floor and tucked them into his pocket.
Then, he leaned back down over the bed, using his large hand to smooth her tangled hair away from her face with a terrifying, gentle tenderness.
"Next time you ignore my calls." He murmured, leaning lower to press a soft, lingering kiss to her trembling, well-kissed lips. "I won't stop at your panties. I'll ruin the entire game."
Summary: Zayne didn’t care for your new obsession over this game. But more than anything, he loathed the fact that you didn’t even feed yourself properly in his absence, instead relying on junk and snacks. You barely went to bed with him. He was going to set some rules, intimately.
Warning!!: NSFW, PIV, dom!Zayne
Word count: 2.3k 🩺❄️
As the hospital's most sought-after cardiothoracic surgeon, Zayne thrived under pressure—calm in chaos, steady in crisis. He didn't flinch when emergencies ripped him from dinner dates or when late-night call-ins left his side of the bed cold. And when she'd first sunk hours into Eternal Eclipse, he'd been relieved. Finally, something to keep her occupied while he stitched lives back together, his own hours stretching long and grueling.
But then he started noticing the details. The four empty energy drink cans crowding her desk, sticky with residue, a faint, sickly sweet scent hanging in the air. The meals he’d prepped—carefully portioned, healthy—left untouched in the fridge, only to find crumpled fast-food wrappers or empty chip bags in the trash. The way her eyes, usually bright and expressive, stayed glued to the screen even when he slipped into bed, the mattress dipping beside her unnoticed, the faint glow of the monitor painting her face in unnatural blues and greens. He’d reach for her, only to feel her back turned, the space beside him growing colder each night.
Tonight, the quiet hum of his anger was a tangible thing in his chest. He'd had enough.
The digital clock on his dash read 1:17 AM when Zayne finally stepped through the front door, the sterile scent of the operating room clinging to him. His scrubs felt stiff, crusted with dried saline and the faint coppery tang of OR blood, a scent he usually found comforting in its familiarity, but tonight it only underscored the distance between his world and hers. The apartment was cast in darkness, save for the pulsating blue glow of Y/n’s monitor. It illuminated the determined, almost manic set of her jaw, reflecting in her unblinking eyes as her fingers flew across the keyboard, a relentless click-clack echoing in the silence. A raid. Of course.
He set his heavy medical bag down quietly, the soft thud on the hardwood floor resonating louder than it should have. Tossing off his shoes, he moved with the predatory grace of a surgeon stalking his next incision, stepping into her periphery. She didn't look up, lost, truly lost, in the intricate dance of a virtual battle that demanded every ounce of her focus—a world where every action had immediate, tangible consequence, unlike the quiet, neglected apartment around her.
"Dinner's in the fridge." She muttered, her voice a little hoarse, barely registering his presence as her character dodged a spell blast with practiced ease. "Microwave it if you're hungry."
Zayne's jaw tightened, a tic formed beneath his skin. He’d texted her three times today—once to confirm the dinner reservation he'd made a week ago, a quiet bistro with dim lighting and her favorite wine. Once when she'd missed it, his text unanswered as the hostess gave away their table. And once more, just an hour ago, to ask if she'd eaten anything that wasn't packaged in plastic. She'd left him on read every single time, each unacknowledged message a fresh, stinging wound. His patience, usually as vast and reliable as his dedication to saving lives, had finally worn thin, frayed and snapped.
Slowly, deliberately, with a precision that belied the fury building within him, he reached over and unplugged her monitor.
The screen died with a soft, final click, plunging the immediate area into deeper, suffocating shadow. The sudden silence, bereft of game sounds and keyboard clicks, was deafening.
She whirled on him, a gasp of outrage already sharp on her tongue—until she saw his face. The usual gentle warmth in his eyes, the soft lines that crinkled when he smiled just for her, were replaced by a cold, dangerous chill she rarely, never saw directed at her. It was a look reserved for the operating room, for life-or-death crises, for the very edge of human capability. Zayne looked dangerous. Not the controlled, clinical focus of the surgeon. This was something else entirely. Something hungrier, older, an animalistic intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Up." he ordered, his voice a low, gravelly command that brooked no argument, each syllable weighted with unyielding authority.
She hesitated, her heart suddenly hammering against her ribs, a frantic drum against the silence. His fingers curled around the armrests of her chair, broad and strong, caging her in, the scent of his skin—clean, musky, faintly of antiseptic—suddenly overwhelming. "Zayne, I'm in the middle of—"
"I don't care." His hand slid behind her knees, calloused fingers brushing the sensitive skin, before hauling her up against his chest in one smooth, unyielding motion. She yelped, a startled sound, scrambling for purchase against his solid form as he lifted her. Her protests died in her throat, choked by the raw, possessive intensity blazing in his eyes, the sheer force of his will.
"You've been neglecting yourself." he said, his voice a low growl, kicking the bedroom door shut behind him with a thud that vibrated through the floorboards, sealing them both in the sudden dimness. "And me." He dropped her onto the mattress, a controlled fall that still bounced her slightly. Before she could even think to sit up, his palm flattened against her stomach, warm and heavy, pinning her to the bed. "So tonight, I'm taking control."
“But my game! I’m so close to winning! Just 15 more minutes, promise! Then we can go to dinner and stuff!” she pleaded, the words tumbling out in a desperate, almost childlike rush, still clinging to the virtual world, a thin thread of hope.
“So you were coherent enough to understand we had dinner plans tonight but not coherent enough to know you’ve missed it.” His voice was laced with an icy annoyance, each word a sharp shard of glass. She stiffened, the reality of his words, of the hour, finally crashing down. Looking out the window, she could see that almost all lights in the houses nearby were out, soft squares of darkness against the deeper black of the night. It was definitely past 7 PM. Far, far past.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of her soft leggings, the cool metal of his wedding band brushing her skin as he dragged them down her hips with unhurried resolve. "No more games. No more distractions." His teeth grazed her inner thigh, a jolt of sudden, electrifying heat and warning sparking through her nerves, making her gasp, arching reflexively. "Until you remember how to be a productive adult." And he was going to make her remember.
The moment her back hit the mattress, a soft landing, Zayne's hands were everywhere—claiming, punishing, correcting. His surgeon's fingers, usually so precise and gentle in the OR, were ruthless now as they stripped away her clothes. Each button of her worn shirt, each snap of her leggings, was undone with an unsettling deliberateness, peeled away with practiced efficiency, leaving her bare beneath him, exposed and vulnerable. The cool air of the bedroom, once comfortable, now felt sharp against her skin, raising goosebumps.
"You don't get to ignore us," he growled, his voice a rough rumble against the quiet, barely leashed dominance humming in the air between them. It vibrated deep in her chest. "Not when I spend every damn day keeping people alive just to come home to this." His gaze, hot and intense, swept over her body, not with affection, but with a fierce possessiveness that made her squirm.
His palm landed on her thigh with a sharp, stinging smack, the sound echoing in the silent room, shockingly loud. The sudden pain drew a sharp gasp from her throat, her eyes watering from the shock, a burning flush rising on her skin where his hand had connected. She flinched, a futile attempt to escape, but his other hand grasped her chin, his fingers firm, his thumb brushing her lower lip. He forced her head up until her eyes locked onto his, unblinking, trapped in their dark, magnetic intensity.
"Look at me." he commanded, his voice a low, guttural demand that brooked no resistance. "No more computer screen. No games. Just me."
She whimpered, a small, helpless sound caught in her throat, a protest that died before it could fully form. It dissolved into a desperate moan as his mouth crashed onto hers, hot and demanding. His lips were firm, unyielding, tasting faintly of the hospital—coffee, antiseptic, and something else, a raw, untamed hunger. His tongue invaded, deep and insistent, mimicking with ruthless accuracy what his cock would soon do. She arched against him, a low, guttural moan escaping, already slick and yielding, her body betraying her with its desperate longing, a traitor to her own resentment.
Zayne didn't rush. He was a deliberate cartographer, mapping her body as if it were his own personal anatomy lesson, each touch precise, impactful. He nipped at her collarbone, the slight pull of his teeth against her skin sending shivers through her, then sucked faint bruises into her breasts, the sensitive peaks tightening into hard nubs under his assault. His fingers trailed lower, tracing the curve of her ribs, the soft dip of her navel, a path of fire. He bit the soft flesh of her inner thighs, just above her knee, a dull ache blooming into a desperate sensitivity until she was trembling, a frantic hum of anticipation building deep inside her, a desperate need coiling tighter and tighter. Every nerve ending seemed to hum with his attention, a stark contrast to the numbing glow of her screen.
"Please—" she begged, her voice raw, barely a whisper, but he silenced her with a single, firm finger pressing against her trembling lips.
"Ah-ah." he chided, his voice a low purr of satisfaction, almost amused, but with an edge of steel. His other hand trailed down her stomach, igniting a familiar trail of heat. "You didn't ask nicely when you skipped dinner. You didn't ask at all when you left me waiting in bed night after night, while i waited patiently for you for hours to come to bed." His fingers dipped between her legs, finding her burning core, circling her clit with agonizing slowness, just enough to drive her wild, a torturous tease that promised everything but delivered nothing, yet. The air crackled with unspoken tension, every brush of his skin against hers a new agony, a new demand.
"So now, you'll wait for me."
She sobbed, a choked sound of pure frustration and desperate need, as he continued to tease her, his motions excruciatingly slow, deliberate. He watched her unravel with dark satisfaction, his eyes never leaving hers, savoring every tremor, every moan. His own arousal pressed insistently against his slacks, a thick, hard counterpoint to her spiraling need, a silent promise of the release she craved. Time seemed to stretch, elastic and cruel.
"Zayne, please," she whined, hips bucking restlessly against his palm, desperate for the release he was withholding, for the torment to end.
Finally, he relented, a deep, resonant sigh escaping him. With one swift, decisive motion, he freed himself, the faint rustle of fabric as his slacks dropped to the floor. The thick length of him, hot and insistent, slid against her soaked folds, a promise of imminent satisfaction, a tangible heat that made her gasp.
"Since you've forgotten how to take care of yourself," he murmured, his voice gruff, his strong hands gripping her hips, holding her in place. "I'll do it for you.”
And then he filled her.
She cried out, a sharp, choked sound, her nails digging into his shoulders, tearing at the fabric of his scrubs as he sheathed himself to the hilt in one brutal, relentless thrust. It was a sudden, aching stretch that stole her breath, consumed her entirely, every inch of her filled, claimed. There was no gentle buildup, no softness, no preamble—just the raw, relentless, punishing pace of a man who'd reached his absolute limit, his control shattered by her neglect. Each thrust was a powerful, rhythmic demand, driving her deeper into the mattress.
"You're mine." he snarled, his hips snapping against hers, the impact jarring her teeth. Each word was punctuated with a thrust that slammed her back against the mattress, deeper, harder, until she was seeing stars behind her closed eyelids, her head thrown back, lost to the overwhelming sensation. "Not the game's. Not her guild's. Mine."
Each thrust was deeper, harder, each pump a reminder of his power, until she was breathless, on the precipice of something vast and consuming. His hand slipped between them, fingers finding her clit again, tracing the swollen peak, and with a final, desperate cry, she shattered. Her orgasm ripped through her like a shockwave, a violent, all-consuming tremor that left her trembling and boneless, her body arching involuntarily, riding the last waves of pleasure and exhaustion.
Zayne followed soon after, his deep groan muffled against her neck as he spilled inside her, a hot, liquid warmth, marking her in the most primal, undeniable way possible. His weight settled heavily against her, a possessive anchor.
When he finally pulled back, his gaze was still dark, still hungry, but now with a flicker of deep, possessive satisfaction, a battle hard-won. His thumb brushed her swollen lips, a surprisingly gentle gesture after the storm, tracing the outline of her mouth.
"Next time I text you," he said, his voice low and firm. "you answer. Next time I'm home, you're in bed—our bed. Understood?"
She nodded, too wrecked to argue, too sated to resist, the words barely forming in her mind, just a hazy, exhausted agreement. Her body thrummed, a mix of lingering pleasure and raw submission.
"Good." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, the gesture almost sweet if not for the fierce possessiveness still burning in his eyes, a silent promise of future enforcement.
"Now clean up. I'm ordering you real food."
And as he walked away, the apartment still quiet but now charged with a new, raw tension, a lingering heat in the air, she was left with one undeniable truth:
Zayne didn't play games, not when it comes to her. He won them.
A/N: I am not a Zayne girlie so I hope this is a decent representation of him.
Is this a safe place? 😅 Because I have something little divisive to say.
First, I want to make it clear that I don't hate any LI. I don't hate Valko either. This isn't a hate post.
As a Caleb girlie, though, I think a lot of us were hoping we'd eventually get a wolf-themed card for him. So when Valko was introduced with the whole "werewolf" concept, my feelings were honestly really hurt. On top of that, Valko's design looked a little too similar to Caleb and Sylus for me to feel excited.
When INFOLD posted the teaser, I genuinely thought we were finally getting to see a new Caleb memory. I was excited because I thought I saw his forehead and a new hairstyle in the first few seconds. 😭 Then I realized it was an entirely new LI, and I was just... confused. I always assumed we'd eventually get a sixth LI, but after all the speculation died down last year, it wasn't really on my mind anymore. The announcement just felt very
I completely understand why the international community has been so vocal. As Caleb fans, we've spent so much time defending him because he's always been one of the more controversial LIs. More than anything, though, I feel sad for the team who worked on Valko and for the voice actors. They deserve better.
That being said, I won't lie- | seriously considered deleting the game when Valko was announced. Caleb already has the least amount of content, so seeing a brand-new LI introduced before Caleb got a main story update felt like he was being pushed even further into the background. It honestly made me feel a little betrayed by INFOLD, and I started questioning whether l wanted to keep spending money on a game where my favorite LI always seems to take a backseat.
This is also the first and only mobile game l've ever spent money on. I've even written a bunch of Caleb fanfics because I'm so invested in his character. So I think my reaction came less from Valko existing and more from feeling disappointed with INFOLD's priorities.
I'm just curious if any other Caleb girlies felt the same way, or if I'm completely alone in this.
I cannot even put into words how beautiful this scene is. I’m in absolute awe. The pure love between my mc and Caleb is so clear, it just makes me so unreasonably happy. The way they look at each other… it’s everything I could have ever wanted. 🥹🥹
Summary: Y/n's patience wears thin with Caleb's gaming obsession. He was so deeply engrossed in his ranked match, he barely notice her presence. That’s not going to work for her. If he wasn’t going to willingly give her attention… well, she wasn’t going to just sit there quietly and accept this.
Warnings‼️: NSFW, Smut, Rough Sex, Power play, Dominant Caleb, 🔞
Word count: 2.4k 🍎🍏
Y/n was done playing nice.
Caleb hadn't so much as glanced away from his monitor in hours, his knuckles white around the mouse, his voice a low murmur to his teammates. Each click of his keyboard, each muffled shout from his headset, each time he responded to them felt like another snub.
‘I am a ghost?’ Had she spent hours getting ready just to be background noise to some virtual, pointless quest? Some stupid tournament? Some dumb ranked game? It’s as if she wasn't sitting right there, legs crossed on the sofa, simmering with burning frustration. Her patience, a brittle thread that was about to snap.
‘Alright, two could play at that.’
She sauntered up behind him like a predator stalking its prey, letting her nails drag a path over his tense shoulders before yanking his headset down around his neck with a sharp tug. The muffled choas of gunfire and distant explosions now filled the entire room.
"Y/n—" His voice was laced with mild annoyance, but she cut him off, leaning in so her warm lips brushed the delicate shell of his ear. The scent of his usual energy drink and a faint, masculine musk filled her nostrils, both familiar and intoxicating.
"You've been ignoring me for three hours." She purred, her voice a low thrum that promised trouble.
Her hand moved, slowly down his chest, she felt the rapid beat of his heart underneath his gray hoodie before traveling lower until her fingers dipped teasingly below the waistband of his sweatpants, dancing along the elastic, tracing the sensitive skin there. She felt the subtle shift in his weight as a tremor ran through his body and wicked satisfaction filled her.
Caleb's breath hitched but his grip on the mouse didn't falter. Every brush of her fingers against him, every feather-light touch sent a jolt of fire through his veins as his concentration on the battlefield started to waver. On screen, his character still moved with lethal precision, landing shot after shot, eliminating opponents with ease.
‘Seriously?’ Y/n narrowed her eyes. She wanted him undone.
With a slow, dangerous smirk, Y/n reached over and clicked the keyboard's Escape key, pausing the game with a soft click. His teammates confused, distant shouts blared through the discarded headset on the floor.
"Oops." Her voice was a sweet, innocent lie brimming with mischief.
Caleb sighed in frustration, shoulder’s dropping in defeat. “Fine.”
In one swift motion, Caleb spun the chair, grabbed her waist in a vice like grip before hauling her into his lap. Her thighs straddled his as her back hit his chest. The headset clattered to the floor, the muffled chatter of his team drowned out by the frantic pounding of Y/n's pulse in her ears.
"You want my attention? Alright." His voice was dark, laced with a velvet threat. It vibrated through her, making her face warm as a blush crossed her features. "Then you're gonna help me win."
Before she could even retort, his hand fisted in her hair, yanking her head back sharply, exposing the delicate line of her throat as his other hand shoved her skirt up, bunching the fabric around her waist. A gasp tore from her throat as he pulled her panties aside, the cool air quickly replaced by his fingers, sliding through her slick folds with light strokes that made her clench around nothing.
"Mmm~ Caleb!" A choked moan escaped her lips as her hips jerked instinctively, a desperate attempt to create space, but he held her still, his grip unyielding.
"Mouse. Now." He forced her trembling hand onto it, his own large hand covering hers, guiding her movements as he adjusted the setting to one handed combat then unpaused the game.
She could barely think, let alone focus, not when his fingers circled her clit. His touch was slow and precise, earning soft moans from her as he executed another headshot on screen. Liquid heat pooled rapidly between her legs, spreading like wildfire.
"You— Ah~ you're cheating." She panted, her fingers trembling, barely able to grip the mouse. The screen blurred into pixels as Caleb picked up the pace, flicking his fingers against her little nub just the way she liked. Y/n whined in his arms, fidgeting as she tried to fight off the heat engulfing her.
His laugh was low, a dangerous rumble in his chest. "No, baby. You started this." Then he slammed two fingers inside her, curling just right, his thumb pressing against her clit in time with every click of the mouse.
She squealed, immediately closing her legs and arching her back. The suddenness of his intrusion caught her off guard but a delicious ache began blossoming in her core was just as unforgiving as the man causing it.
“Open up f’me.” He ordered and she did so without hesitation, spreading her legs wide enough for him to plunge deeper within her.
“C-Caleb!” She whined, finding it impossible not to buck her hips to meet his unrelenting touch.
He smirked and set a fast pace that had her on edge in no time at all as he worked his fingers into her skillfully. The pleasure was overwhelming, a sharp, exquisite agony that stole her breath.
On screen, his character moved with inhuman precision, racking up kills with a terrifying efficiency as his fingers expertly ruined her. Y/n bit her and whimpered, she was so close and he could tell by the way she kept squeezing his fingers. He knew her body like the back of his hand.
"You gonna cum?" he growled, his sharp teeth sinking gently into the tender skin of her shoulder, a soft bite that sent shivers down her spine, a delicious pain. "Or do I have to carry you here too?"
She was almost there, right on the edge. Her thighs trembled violently, she could only gasp and whimper, the sounds muffled against his neck as she hid her face there. Every nerve in her body vibrated, screaming for release.
Then, with a final thrust of his fingers deep inside her and a satisfying headshot flashing on screen, she shattered. Her body convulsing around his fingers, every muscle strung tight then trembling into release. A breathy cry tore from her throat as her nails dug desperate crescents into his arm.
Caleb’s fingers didn’t stop, only moving faster as she rode out her climax, his own breath ragged and hot against her skin. The victory screen flashed, a blinding burst of color, his teammates' triumphant cheers filling the room through the headset on the floor, but his attention was finally, finally, fully on her.
"Next time." he murmured, his voice rough with desire, dragging his wet fingers provocatively over her swollen lips, a lingering taste of her own pleasure. "Just ask for my attention. Nicely."
Y/n pouted and huffed, still catching her breath before a small, playful sound that melted into his chest. “You big meanie.”
Caleb smiled. He wanted to tease her more, his eyes dark with lingering lust, and just then, an audacious idea sparked in his mind, a wicked gleam entering his eyes. He tightened his grip on her hips, his thumbs tracing the curve of her bones.
"New game, Pips." His voice was rough, a low growl, as he stood abruptly, spinning Y/n around to face him, her plush chest flush against his toned one. He shoved his pants down just enough to free his hard cock, already glistening and dripping with need. "New rules."
Her eyes widened, blown pupils taking in the sight as she felt him, hard and hot against her inner thigh, a potent promise of more.
Y/n barely had time to process his words before he lifted her onto the cool, smooth surface of the desk, his hands guiding her hips down onto him in one brutal thrust, bottoming out and filling her to the brim. A sharp cry tore from her throat as tears pricked the corner of her eyes. Her nails dug into his shoulders, clawing at the fabric of his sweater as he withdrew only to slam into her again with the same ferocity, burning himself to the hilt, stretching her deliciously tight pussy. He groaned in pleasure when she began clenching around him, adjusting to his girth length.
"You're gonna be in control this time." He nipped at her collarbone, a sharp, playful bite.
His grip on her was almost bruising as he forced her hips to move, a silent, powerful command. "Keep me hard, baby. Keep me interested." His lips curled into a predatory smirk as the next match loaded on screen, the familiar sounds of the game filling the air once more.
"If I cum before we win..." He punctuated his words with a sharp snap of her hips, drawing a whimper from her lips, the sensation of him so deep, so impossibly full, pressing against that hidden spot. "I'll uninstall this game forever."
Y/n shuddered, already feeling the delirious from the way way he filled her as he was fucking her, the way his tip brushed that perfect, sensitive spot deep inside her, sending jolts of pleasure through her core as a familiar ache starting to build.
“Promise?” Her breath hitched.
He chuckled before placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth. He lifted her again and she wrapped her arms around his neck as he sat back down in the chair, making sure his cock stayed fully seated within her. “I promise, baby.”
She bit her lip, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and shifted her hips, a slow, deliberate grind that sent a jolt through him, watching his jaw clench, a muscle ticing in his cheek. She found an angle, a sweet spot, and began to ride, her movements no longer just about her own pleasure, but about his escalating torment. He grunted but returned his focus to the game that just began.
Oh, she'd make him lose.
With a smirk that mirrored his own, Y/n started moving, slow at first, a teasing grind, then faster, her nails digging into his broad shoulders as she rode him with single minded determination. His grip on her tightened, his breaths coming in ragged, desperate bursts, but his eyes stayed stubbornly locked on the screen, a fierce concentration that both annoyed and excited her.
It was infuriating.
She rolled her hips, taking him deeper, her own breath coming in short, ragged gasps as the muffle of his teammates below them blurred into background noise. Caleb's hand returned to the keyboard, his grip steady despite the way his thighs tensed and flexed beneath her, his body burning with suppressed desire.
"Focus, baby." He teased, his voice strained, raw with effort as Y/n clenched around him, pulling him deeper still. "Or —fuck— do you want to lose?"
Y/n responded by grinding down harder, her movements growing more desperate and frantic as the match intensified, the on-screen action mirroring their own escalating passion. Caleb's breath hitched, a low continuous groan rumbling in his chest, barely audible over the game's soundtrack. His fingers, usually so precise, fumbled slightly over the keys as Y/n’s relentless rhythm threatened to shatter his focus entirely. He was on the edge of breaking.
Y/n's soft, breathless moans and the wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin was hard to ignore.
“Caleb~” Sweat dripped down Caleb's temple, his formidable resolve crumbling visibly with every tantalizing movement. She knew how much he loved it when she moaned his name “So full— so good. Mmm!”
"Fuck—Y/n..." His voice was weak plea as a broken sound ripped from his throat.
Y/n grinned, a triumphant curve of her lips, increasing her pace, her own pleasure building again. A sweet, agonizing ache rooted in her belly as she watched his formidable resolve crumble before her.
The match was impossibly close.
So was she.
"Faster." He whispered. It was a command and she happily obliged.
She obeyed, bouncing in his lap, her breath coming in ragged pants, a symphony of exertion and rising climax, as the sounds of the game mixed with the slick, echoing slap of skin.
Caleb's grip tightened his grip on the mouse, his hips meeting hers thrust for thrust, a primal rhythm, his control fraying with every choked moan she ripped from his lips. Y/n clenched around him, her lips brushing his ear, her voice a triumphant purr, husky with desire. "You’re gonna lose, Caleb."
The final kill flashed on screen, a bright, victorious notification, just as Caleb's grip on the desk turned white-knuckled. He pushed back in the chair, stood and gripped Y/n’s hips tightly before slamming into her with so much force that she cried out. He growled, taking control and fucking her like a rabid animal, as if he would die if he didn’t.
“W-wait! Slo-slow down.” She managed, she could barely speak with how ruthlessly he was thrusting into her. He claimed her lips, forcing his tongue into her mouth and devouring every sound that left her body. Caleb couldn’t stop, didn’t dare to. He need to cum, needed to fuck her full and he was going to follow through.
Y/n broke the kiss, glaring up at her lover through teary eyes as he used her like a fleshlight. “Too much… too much.” He had her spiraling into her next orgasm and she couldn’t stop it.
Caleb ignored her, chasing his own high. He knew she could take it, knew she could handle his cock. If she wanted him to stop, she’d use their safe word but she didn’t. Instead, she pulled herself closer to him and bit down hard on his shoulder, earning her a loud groan from him as Caleb’s hips stuttered.
Y/n release hit so abruptly and so hard that she was completely unprepared. Mouth still attached to him as she whimpered around his skin, her sweet sounds going straight to his dick as her pussy tried milking him for everything he’s worth.
“Fuuuccck..!” His hips jerking up a few more times, pumping as he spilled into Y/n with a guttural groan that vibrated through her entire body.
Y/n limp body barely clung to him, both of them panting as he fell back into the chair. She collapsed onto his chest, listening to his heart as they slowly recovered. Caleb locked his arms loosely around her waist as he watched the victory screen casting a cool, blue glow over their tangled, slick bodies.
Caleb's laugh was breathless, a sound of pure triumph as he brushed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. "Guess I’m keeping the game."
Y/n pouted. She’d forgotten all about the game, didn’t even realize when she had lost. Pressing herself closer, her body still humming with the aftershocks of climax. "Best two out of three?"
Finally did my deep dive into Rafayel’s lore and I am absolutely heartbroken. I can’t stop crying. I just want to say, I was 100% wrong about Rafayel. He is the best of the best and out of all the LI’s, he deserves MC loves the most. SMH, the dev’s are really something else. Rafayel girlies have it so dang rough. 😩😩
Rafayel is so pretty. I need the dev’s to keep this kind of beauty and allure for all the LI’s! I am stunned. Even the still shots are so pretty. And the outfit! Ugh, I’m so happy here.
I got it! It took me 101 pulls… and money but I got it! I’m cooked. I only ever spent money on Caleb but I felt like I needed this. Merman Rafayel is just so beautiful. Ugh, is he about to be my second LI? Someone tell me “No!” because my poor wallet can’t handle supporting 2 men! 😵💫😩💸
A/N: This was meant to be posted yesterday for Caleb’s birthday. Unfortunately, it was also my birthday and I got too busy to proofread and post. Anyhow, please enjoy the late Caleb’s birthday celebration.
Ms. L/n felt it in her bones when the bell for last period rang. The shift in the classroom's energy, the subtle hum of anticipation that had nothing to do with Shakespeare or literary analysis. It was Caleb Chen, of course. He was always the first one in, a silent observer near her desk, determined to disrupt the order in her professional life.
She loved teaching. Loved the way a complex text could ignite a spark in a student’s eye, the satisfaction of watching a hesitant voice find its confidence. But Caleb was a different kind of spark altogether. He was brilliant, undeniably so, devouring literary theory and dissecting symbolism with an unnerving precision. He was also, to her endless frustration, relentlessly fixated on her.
Today was no different. Caleb entered, composed, his uniform crisp enough to cut glass. He didn't look seventeen, his build and mental prowess, a weapon she hadn't yet learned to disarm had never allowed for him to come off as just a typical student. He moved toward her desk, slow, deliberate. He stopped just close enough, a whisper of a violation against the unspoken rule of student —teacher distance.
“Ms. L/n.” he began, his voice a low hum that always seemed to cut through the classroom’s usual din. “I was thinking about our discussion on The Odyssey.”
‘Here we go, again. Alright, buckle up buttercup, for the daily dose of intellectual flirtation.’ She managed a neutral smile. “Oh? What about it, Caleb?”
“Odysseus’s devotion.” he began, his gaze deepening as if contemplating something profound and sacred. “Ten years of war and another of wandering. He slays monsters, blinds a Cyclops, defies gods… sleeps with goddesses. And still, he spends ten years clawing his way back to Penelope. His wife. All that blood, all that sacrifice just for one woman. Isn’t that… admirable? A testament to true love, the kind that reshapes reality?”
Ms. L/n felt the familiar tightening in her chest. This wasn't about epic poetry. "Caleb, The Odyssey is a foundational text, but we don't admire Odysseus for his ruthlessness. His journey is a tale of perseverance, yes, but also of flawed humanity and often brutal consequences." She paused, her voice measured. "He wasn't always a hero."
"But his goal," Caleb countered smoothly, his eyes fixed on hers, unblinking, "was pure. To return to his rightful place, to his fated love. Doesn't that make the 'flaws' merely... obstacles? Necessary detours on the path to what's meant to be?" His gaze dipped to her hand resting on the desk, a silent, almost possessive appreciation of its vulnerability. She lifted it and placed it atop a stack of essays, a silent repositioning of control, a desperate attempt to wall off a part of herself.
“Devotion,” she said coolly, her voice firm, “is only admirable when it respects the people it claims to serve. Odysseus may have loved his home, but his path back to it was riddled with destruction. Loyalty without conscience isn’t noble, Caleb. It’s dangerous. It’s monstrous.” His private smile deepened, a knowing grin that Y/n doesn't understand, but she will.
“Perhaps. But doesn’t the depth of the love sometimes demand such a journey? Isn’t that what makes it grand? When the stakes are so high, Ms. L/n, that one simply must overcome every barrier?” He leaned a fraction closer, a movement almost imperceptible, yet she felt its invasion. “And to think, some people only see the monsters, not the magnificent destination.”
Ms. L/n’s jaw tightened. "The destination doesn't excuse the atrocities committed along the way, Caleb. There's a line. A fundamental difference between perseverance and obsession."
"Is there?" he murmured, his gaze holding hers, brimming with an unsettling blend of admiration and challenge. "Or is obsession simply perseverance, elevated? When you know something is right, when you feel it in your very core, isn't it logical to pursue it with every fiber of your being, regardless of trivial... lines?"
The bell screamed before she could respond, a sudden, startling her. The room filled with students and noise, a welcome disruption. Caleb drifted away, his hand brushing hers in passing. A brief, deliberate contact. Not forceful, but meaningful. She pulled away immediately but still felt the phantom touch lingering like a brand.
This had gone far enough.
She couldn’t afford to make it a scandal. His parents sat on the school board. Old money. The kind that turned misconduct into donations. The kind that could end her career before it ever really began.
But she wasn’t going to let this continue.
~🍎🍏~
Caleb's attention had become a persistent hum in the background of Ms. L/n's days, growing louder and more brazen with each passing week. It was a risky game he was playing, and she, by turns, felt both exasperated and acutely aware of the precarious position it put them both in. She always rebuffed him, but that didn't stop him.
"Just a little longer." She'd silently plead with herself, a mantra she repeated multiple times a day. The end of the school year was a rapidly approaching finish line, a beacon of relief she clung to. All that remained was prom tomorrow night, and then, finally, graduation the following week.
Every morning, walking into her classroom, she felt a prickle of anticipation, a bit weary, wondering how his escalating "attention" would manifest next. She'd developed a habit of scanning her desk, her chair, the space around her, bracing herself for the latest unwanted gesture.
And this morning, there it was. The ceramic mug sat on her desk, nestled amongst her graded papers like a silent, unwelcome guest. It was a rich, forest green, precisely the shade she'd once mentioned liking, though she couldn't recall to whom. Inside, nestled on a bed of tissue paper, was a single, perfect white orchid. No card, no note.
It was just the mug and the flower. It felt less like a gift and more like a marker, a claim laid on her personal space. She quickly tucked it away in her cabinet before the first bell, a shiver running down her spine despite the warmth of the room. She'd deal with it later. She had to.
The final bell rang, releasing the last students into the noisy hallway. Ms. L/n waited, her hand resting on the smooth wood of her desk, until the only presence left was the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights. Then, as if on cue, Caleb materialized in her doorway. His very stillness seemed to suck the oxygen from the air.
He leaned against the doorframe, all grace and calculated charm. His uniform was immaculate, his tie slightly loosened, as if he'd already begun shedding the trappings of studenthood.
"Caleb." She said, her voice calm, professional, but with an underlying firmness that she hoped conveyed her absolute resolve. "Could you close the door, please? I need to speak with you."
A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes then transformed into a composed look of triumph. He turned and pushed the door, the latch clicked shut, a soft, final sound in the suddenly heavy silence. He took a step forward. His eyes, usually so sharp, held a dangerous softness, as if he genuinely believed this was the moment she would finally unveil her true feelings and reciprocate his twisted affections.
“Ms. L/n.” He began. "Did you like my gift?" He spoke, tilting his head. His gaze dropped to her lips. "I thought of you the moment I saw it."
Another step. Too close now, towering over her much smaller form.
"Tell me you didn't think about me too." He whispered, his voice demanding. Y/n's instincts were slow to react. The suddenness of his advance stole her breath. That was all he needed.
He moved with the practiced ease, closing the space between them in two fluid strides. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his body while his other hand gently. cradled the back of her neck.
He lowered his face to hers and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was warm and surprisingly soft. It was a kiss he bestowed like a lover, tender and possessive, as if longed for this moment for years. He did. Y/n was stunned, completely frozen for a moment.
As soon as the shock wore off, a surge of disgust slammed into Ms. L/n. She shoved him back hard. He released her instantly and she stumbled backward, hitting her chair as it scraped loudly, putting as much distance as she could between them.
Her composure shattered, replaced by pure outrage. Her hand flew to her mouth, wiping furiously, as if she could erase his kiss. She stared at him, breathing heavily. The silence was deafening, save for her ragged breaths.
Caleb stood still, his expression a fleeting mask of genuine confusion, quickly followed by profound disappointment. For a fraction of a second, she saw it… the glimpse of a boy utterly crushed, his carefully constructed fantasy crumbling.
Then, as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, replaced by an unsettling, almost chilling calm. His eyes, though still fixed on her, were devoid of any readable emotion, like dark glass reflecting nothing but her own frantic reflection. Inwardly, a quiet, cold rage began to simmer, unseen.
"I called you back here." She managed, forcing herself to speak, her voice trembling at first then hardening with a desperate resolve. Her career. Her job. She couldn't let emotion control her.
"Because your behavior has become not just inappropriate, Caleb. It is completely unacceptable. You just assaulted me. The 'gift’… it’s not welcome. Your comments, your presence… all of it. This is a school. I am your teacher. There is absolutely no basis for this kind of... attention." She gestured around the empty classroom, her voice rising slightly with frustration and mounting desperation.
"This needs to stop. Immediately. Do we understand each other?"
Caleb's arm dropped to his side, his face settling into a mask of complete indifference. The smile vanished.
"Yes, Ms. L/n." He finally said in a flat tone. "I understand."
He turned on his heels and walked to the door, opened it, and stepped out without another word. Ms. L/n let out a shuddering breath she hadn't realized she was holding. He was gone.
But as the silence settled, she didn’t feel relief. No, instead an unshakable feeling of dread seeped in. The way he had just shut down... it felt off. She didn’t realize that she hadn’t deterred him. Her actions had the opposite effect, she taught him something and he was a quick study.
🍎🍏Prom 🍏🍎
The bass throbbed a relentless pulse through the gymnasium, shaking the floor beneath Ms. L/n's sensible heels. Fairy lights strung haphazardly across the basketball hoops cast a glittering, fractured glow over a sea of sequined dresses and awkwardly rented tuxedos. The air was thick with the scent of cheap cologne and the nervous energy of teenagers on the cusp of something.
Ms. L/n circulated, a forced smile plastered on her face, exchanging pleasantries with other chaperoning teachers, trying to look busy. Other supervisors chatted in small groups, their attention divided. Students laughed, posed for photos, and gravitated towards the music.
She scanned the room, her gaze darting around, unconsciously searching for him. He hadn't been in her classes today, which was a small mercy, but she knew he'd be here. No one misses prom.
She tried to push it away, focusing on the eager faces of her students, many of whom she genuinely adored. Prom was always a chaotic flurry of spilled drinks and awkward dances. It made her smile, watching the children create fun memories.
Whether it was from the overly crowded area or the lack of proper ventilation but the gym was quickly becoming unbearable. Ms. L/n felt a sudden wave of heat, the close air of the gym suddenly stifling.
'A little fresh air.' She thought, her gaze drifting towards the propped-open emergency exit at the far end of the hall, usually used by staff for quick breaks. She hadn't seen Caleb all night, and a small, irrational part of her hoped he just hadn't come. She excused herself from the party, making eye contact with one of her colleagues and nodding to them, gesturing to the exit before leaving.
Y/n sighed in relief as the cool night air washed over her. She leaned against the brick wall, closing her eyes for a moment, letting the gentle breeze clear her head. The music from inside was muffled now, a distant thrum.
It was peaceful, she could feel herself relaxing but it was abruptly disrupted. A voice, low and familiar, cut through the quiet. “Taking a breather, Ms. L/n?”
Her eyes flew open. Caleb stood a few feet away, leaning casually against the doorframe, bathed in the soft glow from the gym’s exit sign. He wasn’t wearing a tuxedo, but dark slacks and a crisp black button down shirt, sleeves rolled to expose forearms that had gained a surprising amount of definition. He looked less like a student and more like… a man. She quickly shook the intrusive thought from her head and reminded herself that this was her student.
He held out a clear plastic cup, condensation beading on its sides. “I believe that I owe you an apology.”
Her brow furrowed and she tilted her head slightly. “An apology, Caleb? For what?” She'd half expected him to avoid her, or perhaps offer a final, snide remark. This was an unexpected turn of events.
He offered a disarmingly charming smile, the kind that had probably won him over countless teachers in his academic career. "For being a nuisance, Ms. L/n. For pushing boundaries. I understand now. It was inappropriate, and I crossed a line." His violet eyes darkened as they locked onto hers.
"I truly am sorry for my behavior. Please, a peace offering." He gestured with the cup. "It's just punch. The real stuff is still behind lock and key." He chuckled.
She hesitated. It was so… mature. His direct, humble apology disarmed her more than any of his previous advances. She was tired, her guard was down, and the sheer audacity of his previous behavior had left her utterly unprepared for genuine contrition. She’d always prided herself on seeing the best in her students, even the challenging ones. ‘Maybe he finally understood. He was graduating, after all.’
With a soft sigh, she took the cup. "Thank you, Caleb. Apology accepted." She took a long, grateful swallow of the sweet, fruit-flavored liquid. It was cool, refreshing, and entirely innocuous.
Caleb’s smile deepened, a tasting victory on his tongue but she was too slow to catch read into it. "My pleasure, Ms. L/n." he murmured, his gaze lingering on her lips as she drank.
The pleasant sweetness of the punch dissolved, replaced by a strange, metallic tang at the back of Ms. L/n’s throat. A wave of dizziness washed over her, making the concrete beneath her feet heave and spin. But beneath the disorientation, unfamiliar and terrifying. Heat began to bloom low in her belly, spreading like wildfire through her veins. Her skin flushed with an unnatural warmth, her muscles tingled and weight down.
‘What… what is going on?’ Her vision swam, the faint glow of the exit sign began to blur out. Every sound from inside the gym, every distant car, every beat of her own frantic heart, amplified. Her body felt foreign, lit with fever she couldn’t control.
She shook her head, trying to clear the haze from her mind and lost her balance, stumbling on unsteady feet. She hadn’t even seen when Caleb moved. He was suddenly there, his presence just too close. His arm encircled her waist, gripping her arm as her legs buckled, preventing her from swaying.
He pulled her close, her head lolling against his shoulder, her mind struggling to form a coherent thought. All she registered was the overwhelming sensation of him, the intoxicating heat radiating from his body as she mentally battled with the primal urge to touch him.
"Easy there, Ms. L/n, just lean on me." He murmured, his voice soothing against her ear. Had she been of sound mind, she'd be able to pick up on the chilling hint of satisfaction.
“You're a little lightheaded. Too much dancing, maybe. Let's just get you somewhere you can breathe. Your classroom is closer." He began to guide her, away from the distant hum of the prom, into the darker, quieter recesses of the hallway.
Her legs felt like rubber. She swayed from side to side as she did her best to keep up with Caleb’s long strides. Had he not been holding onto her, she was sure she would be face down on the cold tiled floor.
He steered her expertly, past closed doors, his gaze sweeping the empty hall to ensure no one saw their departure. The cold knot of fear filled stomach, conflicting harshly with the artificial heat in her veins. Y/n could vaguely discern his whispered words.
"That's it, love. Just a little further. I've got you." He coxed sweetly.
They reached her classroom, the familiar number plate blurring on the door. It clicked open, then shut behind them, sealing them in near silence. He didn’t release her immediately. Instead, he pulled her fully into the room, pushing her against the cool surface of the blackboard, her own professional space now his stage. Caleb leaned in, his body pressing intimately against hers, forcing her to meet his smug gaze.
"So pretty." His thumb traced her jaw, then slid lower down her throat, over her pulse. A convulsive shiver wracked her body.
"Even in this state, you are stunning.” he murmured, tilting her chin up, forcing her glazed eyes to meet his. "Dazed. Desperate. Mine."
Her breath hitched, a weak protest dying in her throat. The drug was a living thing inside her, twisting every sensation into something molten and unbearable.
"Happy birthday to me." Caleb smiled saccharinely, his lips grazing her ear. "I’m finally eighteen. And in a week?" His teeth nipped at her earlobe. "You won't even be my teacher anymore. Why don’t we celebrate early?"
Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion, her thoughts having trouble picking up what he implied as her body continued to heat with desires. She could only whimper, a raw, helpless half protest, half something else entirely.
"You taught me so much about The Odyssey." He mused, fingers tightening in her hair. "Now let me show you what I’ve learned."
That was all he said before his lips crashed onto hers, devouring hers. It wasn't a kiss. It was claiming. Possessive. Demanding. She couldn't fight the way her body arched into him, her fingers gripping his hair. She could stop herself from kissing him back.
He groaned against her lips, finally getting the response he craved. "Knew you'd feel like this." he rasped, pulling back just enough to watch her gasp. "Knew you wanted me."
Her head lolled against the blackboard as his mouth moved to her neck as he sucked and nibbled little bruises into her exposed skin, tasting the frantic pulse at her throat, enjoying every sigh and whimper he pulled from her.
"C-Caleb… s'wrong—" Her voice slurred, barely audible.
"Shhh, baby." His hand slipped under her dress, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of her thigh, seizing her right leg and pulling her hips to meet his as she shuddered. She could feel the large bulge grind into her and let out breathy gasp. The friction was delicious, she instinctually jerked her hips to meet his. "Good girl. Just let go."
She whined when his palm cupped her breast, thumb flicking over her nipple. A broken noise escaped her.
"Look at you.” he purred, tilting her face toward him. "All those years playing professional. But I saw you." His thumb dragged over her bottom lip. "Always biting your lip when I answered questions right, always adjust your skirt when I stared a little too long."
Y/n whimpered and shook her head weakly, denying his claims.
Caleb laughed, low and dark. “I always get what I want, Y/n.”
His free hand yanked her leg around his hip, pulling her flush against him. She could feel him, rock hard, insistent and her body responded, heat pooling in her panties as her hips lifted to meet his.
"Fuck…" His grip turned punishing. "Even now, you're begging for it."
He pulled her head back slightly, just enough for her glazed over eyes to meet his. He found her docile demeanor to be so appealing, that he wished he could frame this moment. Then a smile played on his lips as an idea struck him.
Caleb reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, angling it in her direction. The bright flash momentarily blinded her as he snapped photos of her.
"Gotta remember this." He said, snapping another picture of her flushed face, his hand under her dress. Compromising. Damning. "My perfect little teacher, coming apart for me."
"N-no—"
He kissed her again, swallowing her protest. His fingers dipped lower, beneath the waistband of her panties.
“Ahh~” She jolted, grabbing his shoulders as if to ground herself as his long fingers slid up and down her slick petals.
"So wet for me, Y/n." he breathed against her mouth, a mixture of surprise and satisfaction.
"All for me." He curled his middle finger, pushing past her folds and into her heated core.
“D-don’t..!” Her vision fractured. light, shadow, the cold press of the blackboard against her back. His touch was everywhere, too much, and yet her body arched for more. A sob tore from her throat.
He groaned as she clamped down on his finger. "So tight.” Caleb forced another finger into her, making her shudder as he began to scissor her, opening her up for him. “Gonna have to stretch you out a bit.”
"I dreamed about this." He growled, fingers working her with cruel precision. "Every night, I imagined bending you over this desk, fucking you dumb—"
Caleb stilled. Then, with a slow, filthy smile, he lifted her effortlessly as if she weighed nothing. Wrapping her legs around his waist on instinct as He moved with her, carrying her towards her own desk. He lowered her onto it, scattering books and papers, the soft thud of textbooks hitting the floor barely registering. The cool surface felt amazing beneath her all too hot skin.
"Let's make it real, yeah?"
Caleb stood over her, his breathing heavy, eyes alight with a terrifying intensity. He took a moment, surveying his patchwork, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He ran a hand through his dark hair, then reached down, his fingers finding the hem of her dress once more.
Caleb’s gaze, a burning, unblinking intensity, drank in Ms. L/n’s dazed, disheveled form. The satisfaction on his face was absolute, tempered by a dizzying adoration that made his movements almost reverent.
"Christ…" he breathed, dragging a fingertip over the damp fabric. "Barely touched you and I’ve already ruined you for anyone else, huh?"
Her vision blurred. The drug was like a living thing inside her, twisting pleasure from panic, heat from horror. She couldn't tell if the moan that escaped was protest or surrender.
Caleb stepped back, drinking in the sight of her-hair fanned across graded essays, chest heaving, thighs trembling. He unzipped her dress with torturous slowness. The fabric pooled at her waist, baring her to the chill air and his ravenous gaze.
"Perfect." His eyes tracing every curve with pure admiration. "Every single part of you."
He moved to the front of her desk, a predatory grace in his movements, pulling out his phone once more. Not for a photo this time. He set it carefully on a stack of books, angling the camera to capture the scene.
"I want to remember this, Y/n." he explained, his voice gentle, as if explaining something vital to a confused child. "The moment you finally become mine. The moment you finally became mine."
He gathered her dress and underwear, slithered them down her body like a dying breath, falling at her feet that dangled above the desk. Cold air licked her exposed skin, raising goosebumps contrasting from the warmth that came from the shame she felt. She tried to cover herself, but her arms might as well have been filled with lead.
‘No. No. No.’ The plea never left her lips.
Caleb knelt before her, his dark head pressing against her belly as if in prayer. His lips tracing a path down her trembling abdomen with soft kisses that burned like brands. Then his hands gripped her hips, wrenching her forward with terrifying ease. The edge of the desk bit into her back as he forced her upper body down, bending her like a bow.
"Look at this." He breathed, staring between her splayed thighs with hunger. She didn't need to look, though. She could feel the slick heat there, the evidence glistening reflected in his dark eyes.
"Just like I dreamed." His voice trembled with something worse than lust-reverence. A fingertip grazed her swollen flesh, feather-light. Her body arched into the touch on reflex, a broken sound bleeding from her throat.
"Shhh.” he soothed, even as his fingers delved deeper, parting her with clinical precision. "Your body knows what you won't admit."
The first deliberate stroke sent lightning up her spine. Her hips jerked. A moan clawed its way out-half agony, half something unspeakable.
“More… please. C—caleb.”
Caleb's eyes lit up from her acknowledgment. "There she is." He smiled all too pleased, circling her aching bundle of nerves with torturous patience. "My perfect girl. Dripping for me."
She squeezed her eyes shut, but the darkness only amplified the obscene sound of his fingers moving through her wetness.
"Uh uh. Open those eyes, baby." A command, not a request. "Watch what I do to you."
When she refused, he pinched her inner thigh-sharp enough to sting. Her eyelids flew open in time to see him bring glistening fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a groan.
Without warning he sealed his lips over her clit and suckling hard. White heat exploded behind her eyelids. Her thighs clamped around his head instantly, heels digging into his back as the first wave crashed over her. Caleb groaned against her, the vibration sending fresh spasms through her abdomen.
"C-Caleb—!" His name tore from her in a broken syllable, half protest, half plea. She whimpered, her nails scraping uselessly against the laminate as her thighs trembled. A hot, wet stripe along her slit, licking into her around his own fingers.
"Fuck, baby." His groan vibrated against her, filthy and reverent. "You’re even sweeter than I dreamed."
Y/n's back bowed off the desk, a shattered cry tearing from her lips as his mouth latched onto her clit again sucking with ruthless devotion. Her fingers, without conscious thought, tangled in his dark hair, pulling him closer.
He reveled in it. The way her thighs trembled against his cheeks, the helpless little noises she couldn't keep down, he drank her down like a man starved, fingers pumping in time with his tongue, pistoning deeper into her gummy walls.
"That's it." he rasped between laps. "Let me hear you."
A scream built in her throat, morphing into a wanton moan as his fingers crooked just so, striking some hidden chord that sent white-hot pleasure searing through her veins. The orgasm hit hard, violent, devastating, tearing through her with such intensity that her vision whited out. For three terrifying heartbeats, she ceased to exist beyond the pulsating aftershocks wracking her ruined body.
Caleb didn't relent. His tongue worked her through the convulsions, eating up every twitch and tremor like a man starved. When she weakly tried to squirm away, the feeling becoming too much, body too sensitive, he gripped her thighs hard, pinning her in place.
"Shhh, shhh." he murmured against her quivering flesh, the vibration wringing another broken whimper from her lips.
He worked his fingers into nonstop, dragging out every last shuddering aftershock until she was limp, gasping, tears streaking her temples. When he finally pulled back, the obscene pop of his mouth leaving her skin echoed in the silent classroom.
He wiped his glistening chin with deliberate slowness, dark eyes locked on her ruined form-the flushed skin, the tear-streaked cheeks, the way her legs still trembled helplessly wide. His beautiful galaxy eyes sparkled with triumph.
"Perfect. You came so beautifully.” He breathed, pupils blown black with hunger. "But we're just getting started."
Caleb stood and began to unfasten his pants, the rasp of his belt buckle cut through the classroom's silence like a knife. He slid his pants down, freeing himself slowly, his arousal glistening with precum. When he pressed against her slit, the heaviness of it made her whimper as slid his cock between her folds, coating himself well.
Even drugged, her body instinctively tensed. Some conscious part of her recognized her predicament, understood how her that the weight of his cock was indicative of his well endowed size without even looking.
"Shhh." He soothed, kissing her trembling eyelids as he notched himself at her entrance. "I'll be gentle." A lie, he knew, as sweet as the poison.
The first breach was searing, a slow, agonizing stretch. He watched entranced, his dark eyes burning with a possessive fire, as her body stretched to accommodate him, inch by excruciating inch. Her choked gasp morphed into a shuddering moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against hers, locking their bodies together.
"Perfect." Caleb breathed, the word a hot puff against her ear. His thumb, surprisingly gentle, swiped at the tear tracking down her cheek, cool against her flushed, fevered skin. Her pussy fluttered around him, clenching and releasing rapidly as she tried to adjust to him. To his credit and his extreme restraint, he allowed her a moment to, despite the intense urge compelling him to fuck her like the starved beast that he is.
"Taking me so well. You’re body was made for this. Fated to take me."
Y/n’s lip trembled as she laid there. With one particularly hard clench, Caleb hips snapped forward involuntarily, stealing both their breaths.
“Fuck, baby. I need to move.”
And so he did. Slow, shallow thrusts at first, each one a calculated violation of her most intimate space, an invading pressure that consumed them. Her traitorous body, slick and willing, began to respond. his control fractured.
“Hn… Ah~” it was soft, barely a whisper, but he heard it. Soon those meek little noises came quicker, louder and he couldn’t hold back.
His pace picked up, turning punishing. The wet, rhythmic slap of skin on skin echoing off the walls of the classroom combining with their shared sounds of pleasure.
"You feel that?" He growled, his grip tightened, leaving stinging imprints on her hips. His teeth grazed her collarbone, a prickling sensation sending electricity through her body.
"Feel how perfectly we fit?" He pulled back slightly, then slammed back in, the impact made her bite lip. "This was always going to happen. It was destined."
“No matter the obstacles.” He groaned, fucking her hard, his cock digging into her soaked channel repeatedly. “No one could stop this, not your job, not the school, not even you.” He breathed out.
“Fuck, I’m close!” He was, but he needed her to climax first. He needed to feel her milking his length, to ensure her pussy molded to the exact shape of his cock, needed to ruin her completely. With that chilling thought, he lifted one of her legs, hooking it in his arm, and began to drill into her with renewed, brutal force.
Y/n cried out in shock and pleasure. The bulbous head of his cock rammed into her, battering her cervix with merciless, rhythmic force as he moved like a wild man. She gripped his biceps, her nails digging in for purchase on his taut skin. He fucked her so primally that she could no longer find her voice. All she could do was hold on-feel everything as the building pressure pooled, hot and urgent, in her abdomen.
“Gonna fill you up, baby. Fuck you so full.”
Before she could even attempt to comprehend what he was saying, her climax hit. Her orgasm rocked her on a seismic level, a white-hot tremor. Wave after wave of pleasure wracked her body, each convulsion milking him deeper, drawing a sharp, surprised gasp from him.
Caleb's groan vibrated through her chest as he followed her over the edge, a thick, guttural sound, spilling hot, viscous ropes of his seed into her, whispering her name almost like a prayer. He emptied his load into her swollen hole, cursing at the way the aftershocks of release continued to grip him for a few agonizing moments longer.
Y/n sighed in content. Her drugged mind cleared a fraction, a brief, horrifying window of clarity, as her breath began to stabilize.
"You wereamazing." Caleb smiled down at her, brushing a few wet, clinging strands of hair from her face with a hand that now felt sickeningly gentle. She couldn't respond, not even sure what to say. He didn't mind; he was content watching her post-orgasm, glassy eyes, so beautiful, so needy.
His cock twitched inside her, still perfectly hard as if he hadn't just climaxed. She involuntarily tightened, squeezing him, a small, helpless whine escaping her lips. Caleb gasped, resting his head in the column between her neck and shoulder as he tried to regain his composure.
To no avail, he tightened his grip on her hips and began to roll his hips into hers, unable to resist the call of her body. Y/n protested, her hands flying to his chest, pushing pathetically with her diminished strength. She was too sensitive, only a moment had passed between the last orgasm before he started pumping into her again, each thrust a fresh jolt of agony and alien pleasure.
But he didn't stop.
“Shhh. Be good baby." He pecked her lips. “You can take me. Mmm~ You’re so good for me. You can take it.” He whispered to her in such a loving tone, sharply contrasting sinfully deep, hard pace he set. Her core was a sopping mess, allowing him to glide into her without the slightest resistance.
“Damn it. You feel so good.”
~🍎🍏~
After what felt like an eternity, Caleb finally stilled, his breathing ragged against her ear. He remained buried deep inside her, the heavy weight of him almost suffocating her. He had learned everything that made her gasp, cry out, shudder and beg for him. He committed the unique taste of her sweat against his tongue, her juices, over and over again until she couldn't remember where she ended and he began.
The classroom air grew heavy with the stale scent of their arousal. The only sounds were the distant thumping of the bass from the ongoing prom filtering through the door and their panting. He shifted, and she felt the slow, deliberate withdrawal, enjoying his last moments within her. Slick seeped out of her abused cunt, emptying onto the floor beneath her.
Caleb didn't move far, quickly gathering his phone and slipping into his pocket before he reached down, his fingers finding the scattered scraps of her dress and panties on the floor. With disturbing care, he began to redress her, his touch methodical, almost tender, as he pulled the fabric over her still-slick skin.
She was limp, unresponsive, her limbs heavy and unwilling to obey. He settled her back onto the desk, her skirt smoothed, her top pulled down. Presentable. Almost. He took a moment, his gaze lingering on the faint marks blooming on her neck and collarbone. A satisfied smile touched his lips.
"That's better." He murmured, his voice a low, satisfied hum. He leaned in, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. Her eyes, still wide and glazed from the drug, flickered, a tiny spark of something, a nascent fury, trying to break through the haze. He saw it. His smile widened, a chilling triumph.
"Three things will happen now, Y/n." He whispered, each word a hammer blow of control, soft yet absolute.
"One: You'll walk back into that prom like nothing happened. You'll smile. You'll say goodbye to your colleagues." He paused, letting the silence stretch, letting the weight of his command settle over her.
"Two: At graduation next week, you'll give me a very special thank you card. In front of my parents." The audacity of it stole the air from her lungs, but no sound escaped.
"And three..." He leaned closer, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth in a chaste, possessive kiss. "When I come to your apartment tonight, you'll answer the door. And you'll be wearing nothing but that pearl necklace I've seen you wear to faculty meetings."
He pulled back, his eyes, dark and unwavering, holding hers. "Do we understand each other, Ms. L/n?"
A/N: I’ve been absolutely obsessed with EPIC: The musical. If you know, you know. 😊
Happy birthday to me! I just want to show you guys what my brother bought me. He knows my love for Caleb. So he bought me an apple charm for my favorite purse. It even matches my wallet too! It’s hard to see but it shimmers! I’m so happy! Best birthday gift! 🎁🥳
