plsplspls don’t hate me but i think i’m gonna take a break for a while. i hardly even post so it’s like i’ve been on a break already anyways. (╥﹏╥)
i just got over being sick for the past couple of days and my brain feels foggy. feels like i have no motivation to write..
mm gonna close requests for now & i’ll try to work on the ones in my inbox alr. especially the asks that have been in there for months. hopefully when i come back i’ll post those!!
i’ll still lurk n reblog n like stuff ofc #ilovemymutuals.
toji’s not right in the head about you, everyone knows it. especially you.
the second your panties hit the floor, his hand is there. snatching them up like a fucking animal. he doesn’t even try to hide it anymore. just shoves his whole face into the crotch, the part that’s still warm and wet from you, and takes these huge, ragged breaths. his eyes are rolled all the way back, just white showing, a low growl vibrating in his chest. he sounds like a fucking dog with a treat. his treat.
he’s a creep for it. a total fucking degenerate. you’ll be trying to nap and you’ll feel the couch dip. then his big hands are prying your thighs apart just enough to shove his nose right up against your shorts. he doesn’t say a word. just starts inhaling, deep and desperate, his hot breath soaking through the fabric. he’ll grind his face against you, nose digging into your clit through the cotton, groaning like it’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. and he’ll stay there for like, twenty minutes. just breathing you in. getting high on it.
he jacks off with them. like, all the time. you’ve walked in on him in his chair, his pants around his ankles, his dick in one hand and your dirty panties in the other. he’ll have the gusset stretched over his nose and mouth, his chest heaving, and he’s just going to town on himself. using your slickness as lube, his fist sliding all over his shaft. the room just smells like sex and you and him. it’s nasty. he’ll catch you watching and his eyes just get darker, his strokes get meaner, like he wants you to see how much of a pervert he is for you. he’ll cum with a choked-off grunt, cum shooting all over his stomach and the fabric, and he’ll just sit there panting, your panties still stuck to his face.
he takes them with him. stuffs a pair in his pocket before he leaves. probably stops in some alley to press them to his face and get a fix, thinks you don’t know.
lots & lots of praise. oral (f receiving), lewd language, reader losing virginity. he’s not as “mean” as he was in pt2 :( i wanted it to be sweet, sue me.
authors note: a month in the making..pls forgive me for how long it took.
— ʚɞ
You had no idea what time it was and the x-rated movie he chose had ended at this point. A slideshow of previews played on the tv. The only thing on your mind was Caleb and his hands.
His fingers are rough against your thighs as he feels you up, teasing at the lacy hem of your panties.
"What’s the matter?" his lips curl in a patronizing pout when he curls his fingers underneath, going to draw them down your legs. "You ticklish, baby?"
You nearly kick out in a knee-jerk reaction, twitching when he pulls your sticky wet panties down. They’re forgotten now, tossed behind him unto the floor. You shake your head feeling him hiding a grin into the flesh of your inner thigh.
"Don’t be shy, Pips," he says, pressing a wet kiss there before he's ascending with a ghostly brush of his lips over the sensitive surface. "I’ll take good care of you. You know that.”
"I’ve just.." It’s a breathy sound that comes from you. Causing you to sink your teeth into your tongue to block the myriad of sounds that battle for release. "I’ve never.."
Caleb cuts you off.
“But we talked about this, riiiight?" He reminds you with a muffled chuckle, nosing at the swell of your pussy to reveal your clit.
You could say you were unaccustomed to the touch of anything else but your own fingers. You could hardly think straight having this conversation.
"I know that."
Swallowing a lump back down, you keep your weight braced on your elbows to watch as Caleb buries himself between your thighs, teasing at your sensitive cunt.
His nose nudged against your folds, inhaling deeply like what he smelled was the best thing to ever exist, a low groan rumbling in his chest. Then, his tongue darted out, a hot, wet shock against your clit. You gasped, arching off the couch a bit instinctively.
He chuckled, a low, dirty sound against your skin, before settling in properly. One hand snaked up to grip your hip tightly, while the other finds your hand to hold onto. The gesture making you feel even more warm all over.
He winks up at you in a reassuring way, tongue rolling over his bottom lip before it darts out again to roll over your folds, gathering a taste that, until now, has been foreign against his eager taste buds. The amethyst of his irises glimmer with adoration and want.
Sometimes he wishes he had a photographic memory. Especially for moments like these.
Caleb was gentle at first. Then it was like a flip switched once he felt your hand pull his hair slightly, hearing your whimpers soon after. His movements became greedy, almost frantic. His tongue was everywhere—flicking and teasing against your aching clit, then diving deeper, lapping shamelessly at the slickness gathering there, tracing your folds with an intense focus.
The sounds were obscene in the otherwise quiet room: wet, slurping noises mingling with your choked whimpers and his own ragged breaths against your skin. He’d lifted his eyes just enough to watch your reaction, eyes dark with such lust at the way your face scrunched up in pleasure. A little smirk playing on his lips as he saw you unraveling beneath him. You felt embarrassed but it felt too good to tell him to stop.
"That’s it," he'd rasp between licks. "Tastes soo fucking good. All mine, too.”
You moaned at his possessiveness as he varied the pressure, sometimes swirling slowly, driving you mad with anticipation. Other times flicking rapidly, relentlessly until you were writhing and holding his hand tightly.
It’s like he knew exactly where to press, how hard to suck, how to use the edge of his teeth just enough to send jolts of electricity through your entire system. He was clearly taking his time. Your breath came in ragged pants, whimpers turning into low moans that you tried and failed to stifle while biting your lips. The pressure built relentlessly, a tight, coiling knot low in your belly, demanding release.
"Caleb…please…" you gasped, hips bucking against his mouth.
His answer was to plunge his tongue deeper, harder, sucking your clit fully against his hot mouth while his finger simultaneously worked inside of your sopping heat. Looking down through your hazy vision, you swore you could see him grinding into the couch subtly.
A low growl vibrated from his chest against your most sensitive flesh. "Make a mess again, Pips." his muffled words tipped you over the edge without warning.
A strangled cry ripped from your throat as your climax crashed over you, all-consuming, making your vision white as wave after wave pulsed through you, your inner muscles clenching uncontrollably around his invading fingers. Caleb kept licking and swallowing greedily through the shudders, pinning you down until your high wore off.
You laid there looking up at the ceiling until Caleb you heard his voice.
“Still with me? Here, let me help you up.” He asked with a lazy grin.
As soon as your face met his, he pulled you in for a kiss. It was sloppier than before, more heated if that was even possible. Almost like he wanted you to taste yourself on his tongue.
He definitely did. Hoping the day that you take him into your mouth you’d do the same.
You found yourself straddling him again, this time taking the initiative to unbuckle his pants as you kissed.
“I-I can’t get it.” You pout with your caught between your teeth, eyes flickering between his and the space between you as you try your best to be remain seductive.
“Don’t give up. Go on, try.” Caleb says jokingly. He chuckles when you finally release him from the confines of his pants.
His gaze is somehow darker than before. Blown pupils, flushed cheeks, mouth parted slightly as he stares up at you like he can’t quite believe this is real and happening.
"We don't have to do this," he swallows, voice low, like it's scraping its way up from his throat. His eyes drop to your lips. "You’re sure?"
You nod. Maybe not totally sure, but sure enough. Your stomach is tight with nerves, dread and excitement curling in your gut at the thought of the pressure, the sting—but when you look at him, the way he’s waiting for your word like it’s everything, it’s worth it.
“I wanna do this,” you say quietly.
His grip tightens on your hips. Just a little.
“Okay,” he whispers. “Just breathe n go slow. I got you.”
You reach between the two of you, fingers trembling as you guide him to where you need him—tip nudging right where your body’s warm and ready and nervous. He keeps his eyes on yours the entire time, one hand sliding up your spine, the other still firm on your waist.
You lower yourself onto him slowly, a shaky inhale spilling from your lips as you feel him start to stretch you open, inch by inch. It’s not pain, not exactly, it’s pressure. Overwhelming and unfamiliar and a lot.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his head dropping back as he exhales through his nose. "R-remember, nice and slow, Pips."
You squeeze your eyes shut. “Is it supposed to feel like this?”
“Mmm-Mhm, you’re doing perfect,” he breathes, lifting his head again, purple eyes searching your expression. “You okay?”
You nod, jaw clenched.
“Keep going,” you whisper. “Please...”
He groans, low and guttural, as he helps guide you down the rest of the way, hips lifting just a little to meet yours. When you finally bottom out, your whole body goes still, breath caught in your throat, limbs trembling.
“There you go,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours. “You did it. Knew you could.”
“Feels so full.”
“Yeah,” he huffs, brushing a kiss over your cheek. “Won’t move until you tell me to. Promise.”
You don’t expect the way it makes your chest ache. How gentle and attentive he is. Like you’re something fragile. Like you matter.
Like maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
If Caleb could hear your thoughts right now he’d call you silly and ruffle your hair. Of course you matter. You’re his entire world, and part of you knows that already.
Stilling for a moment, you adjust to the stretch, the fullness, his thick cock buried deep inside of you, twitching slightly with every shaky breath he takes. The feeling is foreign, but delicious.
Caleb doesn't move. He wouldn't dare, not when there was so much trust on the line. He would’ve been happy if you guys stopped after he ate you out or when you rode his thigh earlier. Would’ve been happy if you stopped after letting him kiss your neck.
His hands rub slow, absent circles into your skin, and his lips brush your collarbone like he's trying to ground you.
“Still good?” He asks again, voice barely above a whisper, like he’s afraid to break the moment.
“Mmhm..just…weird. A good weird.”
He smiles—barely there, but it softens something in his expression. “It’s gonna get better. Don’t worry.”
You take a breath, and then another, and then roll your hips just the tiniest bit. The movement pulls a gasp from your lips, and a sharp inhale from him.
“Oh—” his eyes flutter shut, head tilting back against the couch as he groans. “Baby…” He’s at a loss for words.
You do it again, a little more this time. Your hands plant on his chest, finding your rhythm slow and small,. Tentative rocks of your hips that make your thighs tremble and your head swim. It’s overwhelming and messy and nothing like what you imagined, but it’s him, and it feels right.
His grip shifts, one hand sliding to the small of your back to guide you gently, the other gripping your thigh tight like he’s holding back everything he wants to do.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, eyes locked on your face, like he doesn’t wanna miss a single second. “So pretty like this.”
His praise goes straight to your stomach again and it makes the warmth there coil tighter. Your brows knit together, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you rock into him a little harder—his cock dragging slow and thick against that sensitive spot inside you, making your breath hitch.
“C-caleb,” you whisper, voice shaking. “Feels…better now.”
“Yeah?” his hands tighten on your waist. “Told you.”
He bucks up slightly, meeting your next roll with a soft thrust, not rough, not fast, but deep enough to make your body jerk and your nails dig into his chest.
You whimper, and that sound alone has him cursing again, jaw clenched like he’s barely keeping it together.
"Been dreaming about this.." he says, fingertips tickling the exposed skin of your hips. He presses a firm, lazy kiss against your jaw, his other hand interlocking with yours for an added bit of reassurance.
You make a mental note that he loves holding your hands during moments like this.
Your hips move on instinct now, chasing the way he feels inside of you, deep and warm and so good it's making your head spin. every roll of your hips sends sparks through your stomach, that tightening coil getting hotter and hotter the longer you keep going.
Calebs gaze stays on you, watching you like he's never seen anything so beautiful. Hand firm on your waist, guiding you, steadying you.
"Swear you were made for me." He whispers, voice ragged, eyes flicking between your face and the spot where you're joined for the first time ever.
Your breath hitches, lashes fluttering as you grip his shoulders, trying to stay anchored through the pleasure that’s starting to take over.
“Caleb,” you gasp, soft and shaky. “It feels… I don’t know—I think i’m gonna—”
“I know,” he murmurs. “I know, baby. Just let go. I’ve got you.”
He lifts his hips just slightly, pushing up into you at that perfect angle again and again, unhurried but deep, and it makes your thighs tremble. Makes your back arch. makes your whole body light up from the inside out.
And then it hits.
Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, stealing the breath from your lungs. You cry out, clutching him tighter, hips stuttering as your body pulses around him, every nerve ending on fire.
“Fuck,” he groans, holding you through it, hands gripping you like he never wants to let go. “Breathe, Pips…m’ so proud of you.”
You collapse against him, chest to chest, face tucked into his neck as you try to catch your breath. He strokes your back gently, rocking into you a few more times before you feel him still, his breath catching, hips pressing up tight to yours as he lets go with a soft, broken sound.
You’re both quiet after that.
Just the rise and fall of your breathing, your bodies pressed together, hearts thudding out of sync.
You don’t say anything at first. You don’t need to.
His hand finds yours. Fingers lacing. And he kisses your temple like he always does.
Had to provide visuals of how I went after reading this update. TOO GOOD
GOOD LORD, IT’S SO GOOD 🗣🗣🗣 The way he talks her through it, so careful, so deliberate, and the gentleness? Impeccable. Devastating. Your prose had me experiencing full-body goosebumps ((T_T)), which I will now cite as evidence in my 40-page thesis on why they own my entire brain.
I love them far too much for my own good, and thank you for this update (〃´ー｀人´ー｀〃)
you’re not stupid. you know exactly what suguru’s doing.
the first time, it happens so casually you almost convince yourself it’s nothing. he’s carrying heavy grocery bags, arms straining, and then, “nnnhh—ahhh, fuck.”
it’s soft, breathy, like he couldn’t hold it back. your face heats instantly. he glances at you with wide eyes, feigning surprise. “ah—sorry. heavy bags.”
then there’s the morning stretch. he wakes up slow, arms lifting above his head, back arching. “mmhh—ohhh god… yeahhhh.” it comes out shameless, low and drawn out, like a porn soundtrack slipped into your kitchen.
you choke on your coffee, grip the mug too tight. when you glare at him, he only smiles around the rim of his cup. “what? felt good to stretch.”
after that, it’s constant. sighs that sound a little too much like moans, throaty hums when he pulls his hair loose, even a quiet “ahhh—fuck” when he drops onto the couch. every sound deliberate, every innocent look after calculated. you can’t prove it, but god—he knows exactly what he’s doing.
the worst, though, is when you’re massaging his shoulders after a long day. he’s sitting on the floor between your legs, head tilted forward, and you’re pressing into the knots in his back.
“o-ohhh fuck, yes. right there—god, your hands feel so good.” his voice dips low, dragging the words out like they belong in a bedroom, not your living room.
you pause, fingers frozen. “suguru.” he turns his head just enough for you to see his lazy smile. “what? i’m just saying you’ve got magic hands.”
you press harder into the muscle, trying to ignore the way your pulse spikes. “ahhh, mhhnn—yes, baby, harder... right there, please—” your face burns instantly.
“you’re—you're doing that on purpose.”
“doing what?” he cranes his neck to look at you, eyes all wide innocence while his mouth curls smug. “i can’t control how good it feels.”
your fingers dig harder into the knots at the base of his neck, trying to stay focused, but then he shifts—just a little. too close. his head tilts back into your touch, chasing the press of your thumbs like a cat begging for more, a satisfied hum spilling from his throat.
“mnghm… don’t stop. feels so good when you touch me like that.”
your pulse stutters. his weight leans heavier into your hands, forcing you to steady him, and that’s when you notice it. the way his hips roll—not obvious, just enough for his back to press against your thighs. subtle. deliberate.
heat floods your face. “suguru, stop.”
“what?” his voice is velvet, feigned confusion that doesn’t reach his eyes. “i’m just… relaxing. you’re good at helping me unwind.”
but you see it. the way his sweatpants tent just slightly, fabric straining with the outline of his cock. every slow grind of his hips drags it tighter, the bulge impossible to ignore. your throat goes dry, fingers faltering against his skin.
“you’re disgusting,” you manage, though your voice doesn’t sound steady at all.
he only chuckles low, a rumble that vibrates through his chest. “am i? or are you just finally noticing?”
as if to prove his point, his cock twitches beneath the thin cotton, a ridge pressing so boldly against the fabric it makes your stomach flip. he exhales sharp, a sound caught between a sigh and a moan, then tips his head back so you can see the smirk tugging his lips.
“keep going,” he murmurs, voice dipping to a sinful rasp. “your hands… fuck, they’re driving me crazy.”
your thighs squeeze together so tight it almost hurts, nails biting into his shoulders. and suguru—smug, relentless suguru—just sinks further into your touch, cock straining harder against his sweatpants with every fake-innocent groan, every sly roll of his hips.
@sweethearticism @junkuna
lazy drabble i mostly wrote for myself haahhaha dont judge mepls...
contents: mdni!!! making out, heavy petting, implied virgin zayne, college au.
words: 466
— ʚɞ prev part
Keeping your hands off of your new boyfriend was impossible to put it lightly. It was as if you two were magnets, drawn to one another without anything being able to come between you.
You’d had plenty of boyfriends before Zayne, but none or them made you feel the way he did. None of them made you crave the way he did, none of them made you feel like you’d die if you didn’t have your hands on him.
“We’re supposed…” Zayne mumbled against your lips as you continued to kiss him without a care “to study…”
“We don’t have to.” You grinned, your hand trailing down Zaynes back until it met the bare skin under his shirt; goosebumps appearing on his skin as you ran your hand up his spine.
You heard Zayne let out a soft whine, the sound going straight to your pussy. Knowing that your boyfriend was so desperate for you was making your panties soaked.
“How do you…expect to get good grades..? Hm?”
“I need you…” you whined against his lips, grinding yourself against the tent in Zaynes jeans, “Need you so bad…”
Suddenly, the door was pulled open.
“Dude you’re never gonna believe what prof-“
The guy at the door looked at you two with wide eyes, his lips moving without a word leaving them, trying to process what he was seeing. You rolled your eyes, already tired of the staring. This must be Greyson.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You grumbled, Zayne chuckled underneath you until you stopped it by pressing your lips against his.
—
You and Zayne were lying on your bed. It was the first time he had ever been to your dorm and he had just finished helping you out with your essay. The both of you exchanging small pecks and quiet words. You ran your hand through his hair, a quiet content hum coming from the back of his throat as he closed his eyes.
“You look really adorable like this.” you whispered quietly, your boyfriend’s lips quirking up into a slight smile. You stroked his leg with your foot, both of your legs tangled together.
“Think so?” Zayne chuckled softly, bringing his hand to stroke your cheek, “I think you look more adorable.”
“Stoppp.”
“What? You do.”
You bit down on your bottom lip, looking down and seeing just how close your thigh was to his crotch. I mean…who could resist an opportunity like this? When you pressed your bare thigh into his crotch, Zayne let out a noise that was between a groan and a whine.
You could feel him starting to harden, pulling your leg away and taking advantage of the fact that you’d successfully distracted him. Straddling him and grabbing his wrists, a grin appeared on your face.
“Who’s more adorable?” you asked impishly, raising your brows.
The boy rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated groan, a slight blush staining his cheeks, “I am.”
lots & lots of praise. oral (f receiving), lewd language, reader losing virginity. he’s not as “mean” as he was in pt2 :( i wanted it to be sweet, sue me.
authors note: a month in the making..pls forgive me for how long it took.
— ʚɞ
You had no idea what time it was and the x-rated movie he chose had ended at this point. A slideshow of previews played on the tv. The only thing on your mind was Caleb and his hands.
His fingers are rough against your thighs as he feels you up, teasing at the lacy hem of your panties.
"What’s the matter?" his lips curl in a patronizing pout when he curls his fingers underneath, going to draw them down your legs. "You ticklish, baby?"
You nearly kick out in a knee-jerk reaction, twitching when he pulls your sticky wet panties down. They’re forgotten now, tossed behind him unto the floor. You shake your head feeling him hiding a grin into the flesh of your inner thigh.
"Don’t be shy, Pips," he says, pressing a wet kiss there before he's ascending with a ghostly brush of his lips over the sensitive surface. "I’ll take good care of you. You know that.”
"I’ve just.." It’s a breathy sound that comes from you. Causing you to sink your teeth into your tongue to block the myriad of sounds that battle for release. "I’ve never.."
Caleb cuts you off.
“But we talked about this, riiiight?" He reminds you with a muffled chuckle, nosing at the swell of your pussy to reveal your clit.
You could say you were unaccustomed to the touch of anything else but your own fingers. You could hardly think straight having this conversation.
"I know that."
Swallowing a lump back down, you keep your weight braced on your elbows to watch as Caleb buries himself between your thighs, teasing at your sensitive cunt.
His nose nudged against your folds, inhaling deeply like what he smelled was the best thing to ever exist, a low groan rumbling in his chest. Then, his tongue darted out, a hot, wet shock against your clit. You gasped, arching off the couch a bit instinctively.
He chuckled, a low, dirty sound against your skin, before settling in properly. One hand snaked up to grip your hip tightly, while the other finds your hand to hold onto. The gesture making you feel even more warm all over.
He winks up at you in a reassuring way, tongue rolling over his bottom lip before it darts out again to roll over your folds, gathering a taste that, until now, has been foreign against his eager taste buds. The amethyst of his irises glimmer with adoration and want.
Sometimes he wishes he had a photographic memory. Especially for moments like these.
Caleb was gentle at first. Then it was like a flip switched once he felt your hand pull his hair slightly, hearing your whimpers soon after. His movements became greedy, almost frantic. His tongue was everywhere—flicking and teasing against your aching clit, then diving deeper, lapping shamelessly at the slickness gathering there, tracing your folds with an intense focus.
The sounds were obscene in the otherwise quiet room: wet, slurping noises mingling with your choked whimpers and his own ragged breaths against your skin. He’d lifted his eyes just enough to watch your reaction, eyes dark with such lust at the way your face scrunched up in pleasure. A little smirk playing on his lips as he saw you unraveling beneath him. You felt embarrassed but it felt too good to tell him to stop.
"That’s it," he'd rasp between licks. "Tastes soo fucking good. All mine, too.”
You moaned at his possessiveness as he varied the pressure, sometimes swirling slowly, driving you mad with anticipation. Other times flicking rapidly, relentlessly until you were writhing and holding his hand tightly.
It’s like he knew exactly where to press, how hard to suck, how to use the edge of his teeth just enough to send jolts of electricity through your entire system. He was clearly taking his time. Your breath came in ragged pants, whimpers turning into low moans that you tried and failed to stifle while biting your lips. The pressure built relentlessly, a tight, coiling knot low in your belly, demanding release.
"Caleb…please…" you gasped, hips bucking against his mouth.
His answer was to plunge his tongue deeper, harder, sucking your clit fully against his hot mouth while his finger simultaneously worked inside of your sopping heat. Looking down through your hazy vision, you swore you could see him grinding into the couch subtly.
A low growl vibrated from his chest against your most sensitive flesh. "Make a mess again, Pips." his muffled words tipped you over the edge without warning.
A strangled cry ripped from your throat as your climax crashed over you, all-consuming, making your vision white as wave after wave pulsed through you, your inner muscles clenching uncontrollably around his invading fingers. Caleb kept licking and swallowing greedily through the shudders, pinning you down until your high wore off.
You laid there looking up at the ceiling until Caleb you heard his voice.
“Still with me? Here, let me help you up.” He asked with a lazy grin.
As soon as your face met his, he pulled you in for a kiss. It was sloppier than before, more heated if that was even possible. Almost like he wanted you to taste yourself on his tongue.
He definitely did. Hoping the day that you take him into your mouth you’d do the same.
You found yourself straddling him again, this time taking the initiative to unbuckle his pants as you kissed.
“I-I can’t get it.” You pout with your caught between your teeth, eyes flickering between his and the space between you as you try your best to be remain seductive.
“Don’t give up. Go on, try.” Caleb says jokingly. He chuckles when you finally release him from the confines of his pants.
His gaze is somehow darker than before. Blown pupils, flushed cheeks, mouth parted slightly as he stares up at you like he can’t quite believe this is real and happening.
"We don't have to do this," he swallows, voice low, like it's scraping its way up from his throat. His eyes drop to your lips. "You’re sure?"
You nod. Maybe not totally sure, but sure enough. Your stomach is tight with nerves, dread and excitement curling in your gut at the thought of the pressure, the sting—but when you look at him, the way he’s waiting for your word like it’s everything, it’s worth it.
“I wanna do this,” you say quietly.
His grip tightens on your hips. Just a little.
“Okay,” he whispers. “Just breathe n go slow. I got you.”
You reach between the two of you, fingers trembling as you guide him to where you need him—tip nudging right where your body’s warm and ready and nervous. He keeps his eyes on yours the entire time, one hand sliding up your spine, the other still firm on your waist.
You lower yourself onto him slowly, a shaky inhale spilling from your lips as you feel him start to stretch you open, inch by inch. It’s not pain, not exactly, it’s pressure. Overwhelming and unfamiliar and a lot.
“Fuck,” he mutters, his head dropping back as he exhales through his nose. "R-remember, nice and slow, Pips."
You squeeze your eyes shut. “Is it supposed to feel like this?”
“Mmm-Mhm, you’re doing perfect,” he breathes, lifting his head again, purple eyes searching your expression. “You okay?”
You nod, jaw clenched.
“Keep going,” you whisper. “Please...”
He groans, low and guttural, as he helps guide you down the rest of the way, hips lifting just a little to meet yours. When you finally bottom out, your whole body goes still, breath caught in your throat, limbs trembling.
“There you go,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours. “You did it. Knew you could.”
“Feels so full.”
“Yeah,” he huffs, brushing a kiss over your cheek. “Won’t move until you tell me to. Promise.”
You don’t expect the way it makes your chest ache. How gentle and attentive he is. Like you’re something fragile. Like you matter.
Like maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
If Caleb could hear your thoughts right now he’d call you silly and ruffle your hair. Of course you matter. You’re his entire world, and part of you knows that already.
Stilling for a moment, you adjust to the stretch, the fullness, his thick cock buried deep inside of you, twitching slightly with every shaky breath he takes. The feeling is foreign, but delicious.
Caleb doesn't move. He wouldn't dare, not when there was so much trust on the line. He would’ve been happy if you guys stopped after he ate you out or when you rode his thigh earlier. Would’ve been happy if you stopped after letting him kiss your neck.
His hands rub slow, absent circles into your skin, and his lips brush your collarbone like he's trying to ground you.
“Still good?” He asks again, voice barely above a whisper, like he’s afraid to break the moment.
“Mmhm..just…weird. A good weird.”
He smiles—barely there, but it softens something in his expression. “It’s gonna get better. Don’t worry.”
You take a breath, and then another, and then roll your hips just the tiniest bit. The movement pulls a gasp from your lips, and a sharp inhale from him.
“Oh—” his eyes flutter shut, head tilting back against the couch as he groans. “Baby…” He’s at a loss for words.
You do it again, a little more this time. Your hands plant on his chest, finding your rhythm slow and small,. Tentative rocks of your hips that make your thighs tremble and your head swim. It’s overwhelming and messy and nothing like what you imagined, but it’s him, and it feels right.
His grip shifts, one hand sliding to the small of your back to guide you gently, the other gripping your thigh tight like he’s holding back everything he wants to do.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, eyes locked on your face, like he doesn’t wanna miss a single second. “So pretty like this.”
His praise goes straight to your stomach again and it makes the warmth there coil tighter. Your brows knit together, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you rock into him a little harder—his cock dragging slow and thick against that sensitive spot inside you, making your breath hitch.
“C-caleb,” you whisper, voice shaking. “Feels…better now.”
“Yeah?” his hands tighten on your waist. “Told you.”
He bucks up slightly, meeting your next roll with a soft thrust, not rough, not fast, but deep enough to make your body jerk and your nails dig into his chest.
You whimper, and that sound alone has him cursing again, jaw clenched like he’s barely keeping it together.
"Been dreaming about this.." he says, fingertips tickling the exposed skin of your hips. He presses a firm, lazy kiss against your jaw, his other hand interlocking with yours for an added bit of reassurance.
You make a mental note that he loves holding your hands during moments like this.
Your hips move on instinct now, chasing the way he feels inside of you, deep and warm and so good it's making your head spin. every roll of your hips sends sparks through your stomach, that tightening coil getting hotter and hotter the longer you keep going.
Calebs gaze stays on you, watching you like he's never seen anything so beautiful. Hand firm on your waist, guiding you, steadying you.
"Swear you were made for me." He whispers, voice ragged, eyes flicking between your face and the spot where you're joined for the first time ever.
Your breath hitches, lashes fluttering as you grip his shoulders, trying to stay anchored through the pleasure that’s starting to take over.
“Caleb,” you gasp, soft and shaky. “It feels… I don’t know—I think i’m gonna—”
“I know,” he murmurs. “I know, baby. Just let go. I’ve got you.”
He lifts his hips just slightly, pushing up into you at that perfect angle again and again, unhurried but deep, and it makes your thighs tremble. Makes your back arch. makes your whole body light up from the inside out.
And then it hits.
Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, stealing the breath from your lungs. You cry out, clutching him tighter, hips stuttering as your body pulses around him, every nerve ending on fire.
“Fuck,” he groans, holding you through it, hands gripping you like he never wants to let go. “Breathe, Pips…m’ so proud of you.”
You collapse against him, chest to chest, face tucked into his neck as you try to catch your breath. He strokes your back gently, rocking into you a few more times before you feel him still, his breath catching, hips pressing up tight to yours as he lets go with a soft, broken sound.
You’re both quiet after that.
Just the rise and fall of your breathing, your bodies pressed together, hearts thudding out of sync.
You don’t say anything at first. You don’t need to.
His hand finds yours. Fingers lacing. And he kisses your temple like he always does.
contents: mdni!!! smut, masturbation (f), implied virgin zayne, reader & zayne are in college.
words: 500 :( short ik.
authors note: my take on the nerdy zayne trope. i kinda wanna turn this into a short series bc i have sooo many ideas.
— ʚɞ next part
When you first met Zayne, he was tutoring you in anatomy and physiology. The moment you saw him, you thought he looked downright edible in his specs.
He wore baggy hoodies and sweatshirts adorned with your college's name, sometimes even wearing button down shirts with a tie. One time, you grabbed his bicep to 'steady yourself' (to feel him up) and you felt the hard planes of muscles hidden under his clothes that immediately gave you filthy thoughts.
From then on, you'd do anything to see that pretty blush that'd sometimes grace his defined cheeks, and it wasn't even a difficult thing to achieve. Really, most of the time calling him cute was enough to get him turning as bright as a tomato.
You always wore something low-cut and tight to your tutoring sessions, biting down on your lip and shamelessly pushing your cleavage together as you pretended to listen to him explain the skeletal system, your panties getting wetter and wetter the more and more he stumbled with his words.
When he finally gathered enough courage to ask you out on a date, he took you to a a museum. As you reached the exhibit that showcased a short film, you both sat down and until the final ten minutes you pretended to stretch and yawn, moving your hand to rest on his thigh.
Zayne stiffened in his seat, a bulge starting to form in his pants that you pretended not to notice, all the while drawing hearts on the inside of his thigh with your pretty nails.
When you two finally started going out officially, you could tell that he didn't have much experience with relationships. His kisses were clumsy and he kept apologizing if he was 'doing it wrong' and you thought it was the most adorable thing ever.
The first time he let you into his dorm room, it was like his personality had been transformed into a bedroom. Sticky notes on the wall above his desk, navy blue bedsheets, book piles here and there, the smell of clean linen in the air. When he slipped off into the bathroom, you rolled around in his sheets, smelling his shampoo on his pillow, your hand drifting to rub yourself over your panties.
You giggled when you saw all the different boxer shorts neatly arranged in his drawer, grabbing a blue plaid pair and slipping them into your bag.
Later that night, you called him, wearing his boxer shorts, your arousal soaking them the moment you put them on. He answered in a groggy voice that caused another pang of need to go through your body. He’d been up late doing homework, explaining the subject of his essay while you simply 'Mmhm'ed and 'Oh?'ed at everything he said, too busy playing with yourself to pay any real attention.
You worked yourself closer and closer, picturing his hand was the one getting you off, thinking about what it'd be like to jerk him off with your favorite strawberry-scented lotion.
When you finally felt your orgasm rock through you, you bit down on your pillow to muffle the moans and the 'nngh!'s that escaped you.
And for the next ten-or-so minutes, you just listened to him rant about his classes, your hand still in his boxer shorts, a satisfied smile on your lips, thinking of all the ways in which you wanted to defile his innocence.
you can hardly hear choso's words, they're muffled into the crook of your neck, but you can hear the desperation in his tone as clear as day. he always gets like this when he's been away... touchy. horny.
"i'm pretty sure i've seen you sleep standing up like a horse," you grumble, trying (and failing) to push the mass of body weight off you. "we just had sex, cho, i've got enough of you inside me as it is. we don't need to cockwarm."
you aren't wrong, he told you he's been 'saving up' for you, and it wasn't an understatement. he's only been away for a week, but you're almost bloating with what feels like a months worth of unspent cum inside of you. you'd think, if he weren't so insistent about keeping you all to himself, that he was trying to fuck a baby into you.
"even better," he lifts his head and looks down at you, his cock already hard again and pressing against your sore thigh. "i can... plug you up. keep it in."
"very unhygienic. do you know anything about PH?"
"what? i don't use that site anymore. it makes my stomach hurt. feels like cheating."
"no, i mean—" you blink up at your boyfriend. "wait, what?"
"why would i want to watch other people do those things? i'm not a cockholder."
"cuckold, baby."
"i'm not a cuckold."
you can't help the laugh that slips past your lips. it makes choso laugh too, though you're sure he doesn't know why the two of you are laughing.
laughter turns into kisses somehow, as it usually does, and then kisses quickly turn into a wet tongue trailing down the column of your neck. his tongue laves at the juncture of your throat and shoulder, slow and sloppy like it's new skin he's exploring and not the same flesh he's conquered ten times tonight.
"wanna fall asleep inside of you," he pleads. "i'll be so good, i won't move or anything. you'll hardly notice me."
well that's a fucking lie if you've ever heard one. choso is more than big, and has a tendency to force your body to tighten up around him in some twisted biological ploy to keep him inside of you.
still, the idea is appealing. you always find yourself melting into his pleads, especially since he asks so nicely... "fine," you groan. "okay. you can put it back in, but we are going to sleep."
"i promise," he practically moans already pulling one thigh open to fit himself at your entrance. "thank you thank you thank you."
despite having taken him countless times already, you still gasp at the stretch of him pushing inside of you. you wonder if you'll ever get used to it.
he drapes his weight over you once he's buried himself to the hilt and you let out a deep sigh in turn. you can only describe how well he fits inside of you as natural—like every inch of him was moulded to fit your heat without fail.
"see?" he whispers against your jaw, kissing the corner of your mouth before tucking his face back into the crook of your neck. "i could stay like this forever."
and for a little while, he does. he relaxes fully, the only indicator of him still being awake is the sweet hums he lets out as you card your fingers through his hair and scratch gently at his scalp. and, despite his weight on top of you, relaxation takes hold quick, and you find yourself drifting off into the comfortable embrace of slumber.
until he moves, of course. his shoulders tense and his face scrunches up against your neck in obvious frustration.
"don't," you keep your eyes shut beneath him. "don't you dare."
he shifts against you, cock twitching where it’s locked deep inside. "but—"
"choso."
he groans pitifully and lifts his head just enough to look down at you. "i need to move."
"you promised," you crack one eye open to look at the flush decorating his cheeks, visible even in the low light. you try and keep a stern look on your face, but you're already shifting your hips in anticipation. "we need to sleep."
choso's forehead drops down to press against yours. he screws his eyes shut, looking a lot more distraught than need be. "i know, but i..." he swallows hard, and you can feel the pulsing of his cock inside of you, "...i wanna fuck you so bad."
nerdjo’s glasses slip down his nose as he stares at you between his knees, mouth already running even while you’re bobbing on his cock.
“fuckkk, that’s so good—shit, wait, did you know that like… most guys only last like five minutes with head? which is, y’know, kind of embarrassing considering the male refractory period—”
his words stutter when you swallow around his tip, spit dripping down your chin. “ohhh god, okay, yeah, that’s—fuck—that’s definitely less than five minutes for me.”
your tongue presses under his tip and he whines, still running his mouth.
“ahhh—shit, baby, did you also know semen actually has, like, fructose in it? it’s literally nature’s energy drink—ohhh fuck, your tongue—wait, wait, don’t stop—” his whimpers comes out shaky, hand twitching like he wants to push your head down but can’t decide if it’s rude.
you take him deeper, throat tightening, and he slaps a shaky hand over his mouth, eyes rolling back behind his lenses. he tries to muffle a moan but it comes out anyway, high and desperate.
“o-okay, okay, uh—s-science says sucking dick releases oxytocin—hahh, f-fuck—bonding hormone, y’know? so technically, we’re like… getting closer right now.”
you hum around him in agreement and he gasps, words spilling faster. “shitshitshit, baby, you’re—fuck, your throat’s so warm, you’re making me cum—ahhh, oh god, wait, I’m serious, I’m—”
he breaks off with a choked moan, cock twitching as he shoots thick cum across your tongue, still babbling about “increased intimacy” while you swallow every drop.
Part 1. | Part 2. | Part 3. 🔞
⚠︎ This story contains depictions of stalking, obsessive behavior, psychological manipulation, death, voyeurism, noncon. Reader discretion is strongly advised, especially if these topics may be triggering or distressing. Stockholm syndrome fears mc. The yandere Caleb erasure won't occur as long as I'm alive.
Neigbor!Caleb stares at your figure near the counter after he arrives at his office. The screens show the live feeds of your apartment, you're holding his tablet, the one he knows has every saved file. He had to rush to the main branch for an emergency protocol he needs to approve, leaving his tablet behind, an action he kind of regretted once inside the Farspace hallways.
Regret nonetheless soon turned into interest, Caleb loved looking at you. Loved you. Much more with the knowledge that you knew his password. His cheeks tinge a faint pink, his cock strains inside his pants.
Neighbor!Caleb whose breathing has turned erratic, shaky exhales fill his office as his hand rubs at his length fast, harsh, all while staring at your anxious face sitting on the couch, the aftermath of finding out how insane he is, how his love goes to crazy lengths all for you. He moans deeply, tongue tasting the blood from how hard he's biting the inside of his cheek.
You're staring at a wall when you remember the specific angle of a live feed from his tablet, and turn sharply to look at it. You see a potted plant he gifted you on the second day of meeting you. The scoff that pushes out of your throat is a mix between disbelief and unease. You keep staring until you see a matte cover in a very small camera.
Neighbor!Caleb breathes in shocked. Hand squeezing his tip. Arousal leaking, covering his fingers. You're staring at the camera he's precisely looking at. You look beautiful, completely unsettled, tired, his dream, his obsession. A whine crawls up, tumbling out of his open mouth just as you scoff at the camera, rolling his eyes back, the screen he's watching from gets covered in white streaks. His devotion all landing over the grainy faint blue-ish version of you staring back at him.
Neighbor!Caleb who arrives hours later. The sound of his keys in the lock snaps you out of your spiral. You have already closed the folder, dropped the tablet back to where it was hours ago, but a shiver runs down your spine, shaking your thoughts. Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel it in your teeth and ears.
Neighbor!Caleb strolls in, uniform damp from rain, removing the hat off his head, bags of takeout in his hand. "You ate yet?" His voice is calm, ordinary. He pretends as though nothing has shifted. You nod stiffly, but your mind doesn’t bend. You register every detail: the uniform he rarely wears, the casual mask stretched too thin. You refuse to flinch. If he’s going to pretend, then so will you. He must've rushed, you can count on one hand the amount of times you've seen him in uniform, never inside your apartment. Until now.
Neighbor!Caleb's approaches you, fingertips ghost over your cheek feather-light, as you shiver whether from the touch or the way your heart stops, you can’t tell. Fear and want blur together until they’re indistinguishable, crowding out your reason and instinct. Your breath stumbles. Thoughts clash.
Your stomach knots but you don’t recoil. Instead, you meet his gaze with steel. For a fleeting second, his smile falters. Then it’s back, steady, hungry. Caleb’s eyes drop to your lips as his hand tilts your chin up, deliberate, steady. "Let’s eat, Pips. I’m starving. Don’t know about you." Your mind mistakes his gaze for another kind of hunger.
Neighbor!Caleb chats about mundane things—the rainy weather, a noise in the parking lot near his office, how the store was out of your favorite tea. But every time his eyes scan your face, you feel the weight of his presence, the heat radiating off him, the casual brush of his leg against yours.
Neighbor!Caleb who after dinner leans in close, and murmurs near your ear, "Don’t stay up too late tonight. You know how I worry." You know—deep in your gut—that he knows. He’s always seen, you know he must've watched you see everything from other cameras, other angles, you no longer feel comfortable as you sit in silence.
Skin prickly, cold sweat coating your back. He turns as if the words were nothing, but you feel it, the claim, the control. And still, you don’t break. You reach out, grab his wrist, forcing him to face you. His grin returns, but it’s thinner now, edged with disbelief that you’d dare hold your ground. You reason he can't watch you if he's with you.
Things however escalate. Quietly, like a leaky faucet drip dropping that you keep forgetting to fix. Not sudden, never loud—just there, creeping in, and before you know it, the water is already seeping under the door. Slow enough that you almost convince yourself you’re imagining it when your feet are wet.
Neighbor!Caleb who has already hacked your phone—canceling plans you’d made before you can, deleting messages "by accident" answering your phone when you’re in the shower. "Wrong number." Your calendar moves appointments, hang-outs and daily reminders.
Scrolling through your phone checking. The weeks ooze by like poison. Missed plans that you never canceled. Calls you never saw. Friends pulling away, convinced you pushed them. Your notes rewritten. Your phone scrubbed clean, too clean. You know it’s him. The snake coils tighter. But you don’t collapse—you watch, you wait, patient.
Neighbor!Caleb keeps behaving like normal. Leaving stuff at your place, humming a song while he cooks, a song you were humming a day before while you showered, you stare at his back. But things aren't the same, you text less. You avoid his touch until you can't. Some nights hands grasp your thighs caressing, spreading you open, breathing heavier near your heat. And you give in, it's maddening. There's a pull in his touch, his unshakable obsession just like gravity.
Neighbor!Caleb keeps texting you. Your replies have grown fewer, slower—his never stop. When you scroll back through them, your stomach knots, your skin prickles. They begin harmless, almost sweet, but with each passing day they twist tighter, unraveling into something else entirely. His words peel back layer by layer, like a snake shedding skin—until all that’s left staring back at you is the thing underneath.
Caleb♡: Morning! :) how do you feel about going out for dinner today?
Caleb♡: Thought of you while I passed the café you frequent, ended up buying your fave pastries.
Caleb♡: Hey let me know when you're off work
Caleb♡: Are you too busy to reply? :(
Caleb♡: Pips? Im getting worried about you now.
Caleb♡: Can you atleast pick up the phone.
Caleb♡: If you don't reply, I'm coming to find you.
Caleb♡: Why aren't you home at this hour?
Caleb♡: You know how dangerous it is outside?
Caleb♡: Are you alone?
Caleb♡: Answer me.
You: Im home.
𓇢𓆸
Caleb♡: Morning, Pips. I couldn’t sleep. I kept hearing you breathe. Even when you weren’t here.
Caleb♡: I went to the café. Bought your pastries. They tasted wrong without you. Like they were poisoning me. Why would you do that to me?
Caleb♡: You should’ve answered by now. I know you’re holding the phone. I can feel it in your hand.
Caleb♡: You think I don’t notice your silence? Every second you ignore me, I can feel it cutting into me like glass.
Caleb♡: Stop punishing baby. Me. I love you.
Caleb♡: I’m outside. I see your curtains move. Don’t lie. Don’t pretend you’re not there.
Caleb♡: The street is empty. Too empty. Someone followed you, didn’t they? You let them. You let them watch you.
Caleb♡: Tell me who they are, Pips. Tell me before I make them disappear.
You: I don't know them. It's probably someone going back home too.
Caleb♡: Why are you doing this to me? Why are you trying to make me lose control?
Caleb♡: …You think you can run? You think distance matters?
𓇢𓆸
Caleb♡: Why aren’t you answering.
Caleb♡: Why aren’t you answering.
Caleb♡: WHY aren’t you answering.
Caleb♡: I can hear you breathing. I know the sound. Don’t lie.
Caleb♡: Every second you ignore me, I see red. Do you want me like this? Do you want to see what I’ll do?
Caleb♡: Pips, don’t you understand? You can’t leave. You don’t leave. You’re stitched into me. You pull, I bleed.
Caleb♡: I killed for you. Do you even realize what that means?
You: what? What do you mean Caleb. Killed who?
Caleb♡: The streetlights are flickering outside. They always do when I get close to you. Like even the world knows you’re mine.
Caleb♡: You did this. You made me like this. You like me like this. Don’t deny it.
Neighbor!Caleb comes back from work late into the night to find you sitting at his door, knees pulled to your chest, head bowed like you’re holding yourself together by threads. His boots echo down the hallway until they stop in front of you. He crouches, tilts his head, smiles like this is normal. Like you’re not seconds from tearing your own hair out.
Your head snaps toward him, eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched. Jenna’s email still burns in your phone—her approval of your indefinite long vacation, her lecture about "honesty" and "multiple reasons backing up the decision" how you should've known your body needed a break, a break you never even needed. Rage claws up your ribs, sharp and ugly, rattling your throat. You want to spit it in his face, scream until the entire floor hears: the cameras. Your phone. Your job.
The way your world has folded in on itself so gradually, you didn't notice how small it’s gotten—until now that there’s nowhere left to stand that he hasn’t already claimed.
One week without dinner with your friends turned into two and then it's been months. A missed shift turns into 'reasons' for your break. Your phone goes missing for a day, then two. You find it in the couch cushions but there are no new texts, no missed calls.
You snap "Cut the act." Your voice is raw, jagged. "You think I don’t know? The cameras. My phone. My job—" You shove yourself to your feet, trembling. "A break? Caleb? Really? You stole that from me. You think you get to decide what I need?"
Neighbor!Caleb's smile doesn’t falter. If anything, it smooths out—too calm, too steady. "But I didn’t steal anything" he says softly, like you’re a child throwing a tantrum. "I gave you time. Something you’d never give yourself. You’re welcome."
Your throat burns with a scream, but he keeps going, voice low, deliberate. "You’d work yourself into the ground if I didn’t step in. And you’d keep letting people walk all over you, keep making choices that ruin you." His eyes flick over your face, studying, dissecting. "So yeah, I adjusted things. Because I actually care if you live through the year."
Neighbor!Caleb keeps you "company," distracting as the days blur together, a month passes since your 'vacation' started. He watches as you slowly let go of the lingering anger, something more thrilling simmering under, ever growing to his constant vigilance. He taunts you by making sure you leave your apartment as little as possible. Groceries? Delivered by him or a service. Need something from the store or pharmacy? He takes care of it.
You feel trapped. Every step outside is monitored. The doors lock by themselves. You start checking for options, ways out. Desperation clutches your mind, paranoia filters in your bloodstream.
But then, there are the deaths. Small enough to make the news but never the headlines—an accident here, an illness there. A delivery worker who "fell asleep" at the wheel after you asked for help, and he agreed. A neighbor who "slipped" on her own front steps after offering you help. It reminds you of that text he sent before admitting to it, reminds you of that friend from college, gone without warning after meeting with you. After meeting Caleb.
Your body reacts before your mind. Tears stream down your face, involving anyone means death now. Caleb has made it abundantly clear.
Neighbor!Caleb watches you from the shadowed corner of his office, heart steady but mind racing. The world outside? Dangerous, unpredictable, a chaos he’s spent years living in. Trying to shield you from it. Every person who got too close, who could pull you away, who whispered distractions in your ear—they weren’t rage or control. They were necessary removals, surgical strikes in a war no one else could see. You would understand soon.
Because if you leave him, if you slipped through his fingers, then what was the point of all this?
Neighbor!Caleb who doesn’t see himself as a monster. Monsters lose what they love, let the world have them. Caleb? He owns this love, like you own him. Sometimes, late at night on his office, just like now, he watches you sleep on the feeds. Soft breaths, unaware, vulnerable. You think the cameras are about control probably, but they're about care. About knowing you're safe, that no one is there to harm you.
Neighbor!Caleb knows he's not cruel. Not really. He’s a guardian. Your savior. His hands have done what they must—quiet, clean, invisible, steady. So as he's back from an excruciating shift, entering your apartment quietly, finding your sleeping form he approaches, his touch deliberate as he traces the lines of your now awake trembling form seeking for a reward, gratitude.
Neighbor!Caleb grins as you flinch, a sudden sharp intake of breath escaping your lips, a sound most would recognize as fear. But Caleb? He hears something else. "Shh" he murmurs, voice low and soothing "It’s just me, it's okay." Your eyes flicker wide, panic and anger flashing just beneath the surface. But his smile doesn't falter, interpreting the wild pulse of your heart as something far more intimate— excitement, anticipation.
Neighbor!Caleb feels your body stiffen pressed against him, caught between wanting to pull away and being held too tightly to move. To him, every shiver, every gasp is confirmation that you're caught in the same dark rhythm he’s been orchestrating all along.
Neighbor!Caleb whose hands grip your wrists firmly, but with a careful gentleness that only makes panic twist tighter inside your chest. You gasp sharply, eyes wide and wet, the sharp edge of terror unmistakable. Yet, in Caleb’s mind, that gasp isn’t fear. It’s something darker, something thrilling.
"Don’t fight it" he whispers, voice low and rough, a thread of possessive hunger threading through the calm. "You want this… I know you do." pushing his knee up bewteen your legs, feeling your damp panties.
Neighbor!Caleb starts kissing down your neck as your body trembles violently beneath his touch—part resistance, part something more fragile, raw, vulnerable. You try to pull away, but his fingers tighten, not cruelly, but with an iron certainty that you’ll stay. As your legs go over his shoulders, and he sheaths himself inside you so deeply your eyes clench close, mouth open in a silent moan, your mind wanders.
You think back on the videos he labeled favorites, the word favorites dances in your mind, hypnotic. Did he touch himself to you? how many times did he watch them? A whine slips from your lips without permission, his hands still. He leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his breath hot and uneven.
"Fear and desire… they’re not so different, are they?" he murmurs. "You don’t need to be scared. You just need to feel."
Neighbor!Caleb who watches your pupils dilate, trapped somewhere between fury and something close to rapture, his smile twists—dark, satisfied. In that moment, you know, you've invited this madness in, both terrified and strangely alive, caught in a dangerous web woven by hands that claim to love you, but only know possession.
You can't outrun gravity, you know whatever is happening will only worsen with time. Overthinking ways out, plans that already clash with your heart yet align with your instincts. Just as blinding hot pleasure unravels inside you letting a cold thrill curl inside your chest after there's a single thought haunting your mind again as you stare back into Caleb's eyes above you.
A hunt is equal parts survival and performance.
◇
A/N: Behold: my ritualistic conjuring of Crazy Caleb. Am I overdoing it? Absolutely not. My friend however who valiantly beta-read this, now finally understands why I get so many ‘I love wtvr is wrong with you’ comments, but really I'm just experimenting with… narrative tension? Also, yes, I’ve rewritten this about fifty times. Fifty man. Every single time I thought, ‘Nope, too sane to post.’ who will you think I am??? Anyways I think next part will be the last one maybe, and yes… I’m already torturing myself working on it. (つд⊂)
As always comment what you think :)
Tag list: Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list, same applies if you wish to be removed :)
“you did this. you made me like this. you like me like this. don’t deny it.”
this is like the sweet treat i need after dinner holy shit Ari you’ve done it again..i need crazy caleb real bad!!!! add me to ur taglist for everything atp
caleb/reader → mdni
contains: rough sex, you get fucked in a chokehold, semi-public?, tinge of caleb being jealous & possessive, he threatens to put a baby in you 1x
*not proofread! forgive me lolll*
bestfriend'sbrother!caleb who wishes you didn’t want to hide your relationship but lets it slide (for now), understanding your anxiety around telling his sister who you’ve been keeping the secret from. you never intended to fall in love with him, but how could you resist when it was so easy to do? the last thing you wanted was to be forced to pick between your closest friend and her brother who makes your mind, body, and soul thrive.
bestfriend'sbrother!caleb is obsessed with you and does whatever he can (that you allow, admittedly. he’s such a simp lollll) to subtly express that you're his woman. it just makes him feel better. from the apple and fighter jet themed designs you get on your nails that he pays for to the glittery C keychain that dangles on your purse 24/7, it's a form of ownership that he's proud to see you sport.
bestfriend'sbrother!caleb who doesn't quite get the memo sometimes that people truly do not know you're together. so when his sister introduces you to a guy from work during her birthday party and you're way too fucking polite, accepting his phone number in the guise of interest and smiling at some lame ass joke, he's genuinely surprised by his restraint as he helplessly watches the entire interaction from across the room.
bestfriend'sbrother!caleb who can't let you go thinking for too long that he was unphased by what he witnessed. when you finally separate from everyone at some point to use the bathroom upstairs, he sneakily follows you after a carefully timed two minutes and forty-three seconds with quite a lot to get off his chest.
bestfriend'sbrother!caleb wouldn't say a word at first after he made his way inside in the midst of you washing your hands, quickly turning the wide space into a shoe box with his large and imposing stature. your explanation for why you seemed to be entertaining that dude never gets to see the light of day when the click of the lock behind him echos, already sealing your fate.
bestfriend'sbrother!caleb who has your dress flipped up and your panties at your ankles in seconds as he bends you over the sink and stuffs you full of his thick cock. you knew he saw everything, knew he'd get like this, knew he'd confront you. that's why your greedy pussy was so soaked and eager to squeeze him inside.
you wanna be a brat and push your luck in his face? then he doesn't give a damn about the volume of slapping skin, your pitchy choked moans, or the tears inked by your mascara that fall down your cheeks from how overwhelmingly good he feels within your tight walls. his forearm is curled with the perfect amount of pressure around your throat, chest pressed to your back, and he’s rutting into your dripping cunt with a message he seeks to ingrain inside and out.
you're both leaking with so much that it trails down your thighs, leaving a sticky mess that clings to his heavy balls before landing on the tile floor. he wishes you would try and clean up his hard work when he's finished. seriously, he wants you to. it'll give him a reason to leave you with even more when he puts it back where it belongs.
bestfriend'sbrother!caleb would make you look in the mirror at your flushed face, nearly ripping the material of your dress when he forces it down along with your bra so you two can watch your tits jump with every punishing thrust.
"look at yourself," he grunts, slamming into you roughly as you begin to drool. "you belong to me, yeah? yeah, you do. alllll mine. so keep fucking playin', pips. i’ll fucking ruin you, leave you with a baby to make sure it clicks if i have to. that's what you want? that’s the way we’re telling everybody?”
he's not pushing you too far nor is he being too cruel. because like the filthy girl he knows you to be, you arch your back despite the discomfort in shameless desperation for more and squeeze his bicep like an anchor. with a broken mewl, you beg, "hah, i w-want it ‘leb… harder... p-please..”
in that moment, it seems like you really are ready for everyone to know and hear who owns you. the erotic squelching when he fucks his cum deep for the first time tonight proves it and is more than enough motivation for him to fulfill that unspoken request..
A/N: not tagging my baes because i don't wanna annoy anyone since i justtt posted yesterday. idk if this is any good or if it makes sense, but it was really fun to write and “decorate” (i am just a girl), pretty quick, and i wanted to share soooo bad since it’s been on my noggin for like two days so yeah!!
creds to @/saradika-graphics for the button divider, @/cafekitsune for the mdni/reblog banner, & @/asiatic-apple for the username banner!
Have you played ff16?? There aren't many ff16 blogs out there, at least none that are active🙁
i haven’t yet unfortunately :( but i really want to. should i write some stuff for clive? idk if it’ll be any good though considering idk his character fr
could you write noctis x fem reader smut where you guys are getting nasty in his regalia
car sex w noct ۶ৎ
oral (m receiving), car sex, public risk but not really, dom!noct, teasing, slight choking, hair pulling, overstimmm, unsafe driving themes.
words: 1.1k
authors note: i had written something similar to this a while ago but this ones muchhhh better even though the ending was kind of rushed lol. thank u for requesting!!! <33.
— ʚɞ
The engine hummed low beneath you, smooth and powerful as Noctis guided the Regalia along the empty roads. Moonlight painting silver streaks over the hood. His left hand was loose on the steering wheel, but his right rested high on your bare thigh. Thumb making lazy circles just under the hem of your denim shorts.
It was past 1 a.m. The air was heavy with heat, thick with tension—but not because of potential monsters lurking in the shadows. No, it was something electric simmering in the silence between the two of you. The windows were cracked just enough to let in the salty breeze, but nothing was cooling the fire in Noctis’s gaze when he glanced at you sideways.
“You’re awfully quiet over there,” he murmured, his voice low, rough. “Cat got your tongue, baby?”
You turned your head, lips curling in a slow, sinful smirk. “Not yet,” you said, voice just shy of a purr. “But I can think of something that can busy it…”
Noctis’s jaw clenched hard. His grip on your thigh tightened, knuckles whitening.
“Yeah?” he muttered, already breathless from anticipation. “Don’t tease me.” He chuckled, shaking his head.
But you were already unbuckling your seatbelt, sliding down, letting your fingers dance over the bulge pressing impatiently behind his jeans. He hissed through his teeth, eyes flicking from the road to you.
“Fuck,” he sighed, trying to keep his cool, both hands on the wheel now like it would ground him. “You’re really gonna do this? Right now?”
You popped the button on his jeans, dragging the zipper down with slow, deliberate movements. “Eyes on the road, Prince.” you whispered, leaning in.
He lifted his hips just enough to help you ease his jeans and boxers down, cock springing free. Hard, thick, already glistening at the tip.
You gave it one long, lazy lick, from base to head, savoring the taste of him. Noctis groaned, his right thigh tensed under your hand.
“God, you’re insane.” he grunted, knuckles white on the wheel now, neck veins straining.
You smirked up at him, mouth wrapping around the head of his cock, tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing as you slowly took more. His breath hitched. You could feel him twitching against your tongue, barely holding himself together.
“Baby,” he gritted out, voice sharp. “You want me to crash this car?”
You didn’t answer. You just hummed around him, vibrating down his length, eyes fluttering closed as he hit the back of your throat. He let out a strangled noise, hips jerking up involuntarily, and you gripped his thigh tighter to hold him still.
“Don’t—don’t do that shit unless you’re ready to pull over and let me fuck you,” he growled. But the way his voice cracked told you he didn’t want you to stop. Not even a little.
You pulled back slowly with a loud pop, licking your lips, glancing up at him with eyes full of mock innocence. “Maybe I want you to.”
“Ahhh,” he snapped, fingers twitching like he was one second away from grabbing your hair and fucking your throat until you cried.
Instead, you dove back in, wetter, deeper, sloppier this time—your hand stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach, twisting just right. You moaned again, letting spit drip down his length, making a mess just to watch his control unravel.
His hand finally left the wheel. It threaded hard into your hair, pulling tight—not to guide you, but just to feel. To stay tethered to reality while you pulled him closer to the edge.
He was panting now, thrusting just a little. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make your eyes water. Enough to make you choke around him.
“God, your mouth—” he groaned, words slurring into a broken gasp. “You’re gonna make me cum all over your pretty face if you don’t stop.”
You didn’t stop. You sucked harder, hollowed your cheeks again, your tongue dragging over the vein under his cock as your hand pumped in time. You looked up at him through wet lashes, and that was it.
“Fuuuck—I’m—” he growled, hips stuttering.
He didn’t finish the sentence. Didn’t need to.
You felt him pulse on your tongue, spilling hot and thick down your throat. You swallowed it all, like the good girl he always says you are, smiling just a little as he trembled under your touch, his head thrown back against the drivers seat, teeth bared in a silent curse.
When he finally looked down, chest heaving, pupils blown wide, he looked like he might murder you—or fuck you into oblivion.
Maybe both.
“You better believe I’m pulling over,” he muttered, already yanking the wheel into the nearest turnout. “I’m not letting you walk away from that without getting fucked.”
And judging by the heat pooling between your thighs, you weren’t about to argue.
With the regalia parked and not a soul around, he leans across the centre console, pushing you back against the door, his mouth crashing down onto yours in a bruising, possessive kiss that tastes of desperation.
Noctis’s hands are rough, impatient, yanking at your clothes. Your top comes off first, fumbling with the clasp of your bra with one hand while the other shoves your shorts down and off your thighs. The gear shift digs uncomfortably into your hip, but the discomfort is lost in the sudden, overwhelming surge of his need.
"Back. Now." He whispers against your lips. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat, his face flushed.
With a giggle you make your way into the backseat and Noctis is right behind you.
He doesn't wait for permission, already slick with pre-cum and your spit from just a minute ago. You straddle him, his hands instinctively grab your hips.
The confines of the car make it brutal and raw as he slams up into you. Your legs are cramped, your back pressed against the seat behind you, but the sheer, animalistic intensity of it is intoxicating.
He fucks you with the same aggressive, relentless energy he would display if he was fighting off those monsters that are out at this time of night. Fast, hard, taking what he wants. Each thrust making the car rock slightly on its suspension.
"Fuckkkk," he groans, burying his face in your neck, biting down gently on your shoulder as he pounds into you. The scent of him, sweat, sea salt, his cologne, is overwhelming. You cling to him, nails digging into the tough fabric of his black tee your own cries muffled against his skin.
It adds to the raw, illicit thrill. But he pulls back slightly, his eyes burning into yours, a wild, triumphant smirk on his lips.
“Finish what you started, baby. It’s your turn.”
“Noctttt…” you started to protest. Your legs burned, but it felt too good to stop now. So you kept moving your hips slowly.
"This is for teasing me," he pants.
His words had you squeezing around him, desperate for any kind of friction you could get. Suddenly you stopped when you felt his hand snake under your tummy, his fingers rubbing your clit.
He stayed still as you clenched around him, the wet sound of your slick filling the empty air in the car.
“Please move..I-I can’t,” you cried into his neck. Noctis lifted your chin, regretting it almost immediately when he saw how desperate you looked back at him.
“Are you gonna learn something from this?” His restraint was dwindling down with every nod of your head.
“Yes! I promsie i’ll be good from now on, ‘just wanna be fucked Noct.”
He cursed, holding onto you from the curve of your waist as he started thrusting into you.
The pressure in your stomach was building fast and it was becoming harder to stay quiet with each stroke of his cock against your velvety walls. With your hips meeting his—and the pretty little sounds coming from your mouth, Noctis’s head rolled back against the seat as he struggled to keep his eyes open.
His fingers moved faster over your clit, as you came with a cry of his name. He watched you tremble and shake, his thrusts turning sloppy as he pulled out, painting your cunt with his cum.
“God,” he groaned, still gripping his base as he continued to tease your entrance.
nsfw, minors dni, caleb x fem!reader, heavy sexual tension, finger sucking, more than friends.
#inspired by the beach banner :p yes caleb & zayne came home i’m a happy girl.
—ʚɞ
Your friends were running around in the sand playing volleyball in the heat of the sun, while you and Caleb both made excuses to stay on the blanket for a minute, saying you were tired. The truth was, neither of you could stand being too far from each other.
Caleb had insisted on grabbing you fresh fruits from the stand near the pier. The ones that came in a little container. He knew you’d love them, quickly dropping the box in your lap. You were so busy smiling at him you barely managed to say thank you.
You dug your fingers in without a second thought, biting into the soft fruit and letting the juice slip down your wrist. You knew you were being a little messy on purpose. Because you liked how Caleb was looking at you.
How he tried to act unbothered, but his eyes kept tracking every movement, every bite you took. He couldn’t help but stare. In his eyes you were so painfully pretty even when you were a mess. Maybe especially when you were a mess for him.
“You’re making a disaster of yourself, you know,” he chuckled, trying to hold it together, but something about your sticky fingers had his chest feeling tight. He had no idea how he was supposed to look away from that.
“Sooo what?” you teased back, voice sweet as you popped another bite into your mouth, “It’s yummy.” You licked your lips with exaggerated slowness, just to see if he’d react to it. and he did. Oh, he definitely did. At this point his brain was literally short-circuiting.
You wiped your wrist on the little napkin he’d brought, but your fingers were still slick, and you glanced over at Caleb with a sheepish smile.
“Guess i’m still messy,” you sighed, holding your hand up.
He stared for a moment too long, swallowing hard. Messy. God, that word felt dangerous with you. Caleb wanted to kiss you so bad he could taste it, almost taste the mango on your tongue, the salt on your skin. But instead, he took a deep breath. Preparing himself for what he was about to do.
“Give me your hand…” he murmured, already leaning closer, purple eyes locked on yours. You hesitated, blinking, a flicker of something hot running through your stomach.
“Why?” you played dumb, heart thumping like crazy.
“So you don’t get sand all over you, silly.” He took your wrist before you could answer, and you nearly gasped when he pulled your fingers between his lips.
Slowly, deliberately, Caleb sucked the sweetness off like he was starving, tongue warm and soft against your flesh, like it was the most natural thing in the world. You felt your entire body go still, frozen except for your pounding heart.
He felt your pulse stuttering under his tongue, felt your thigh tense against his where you leaned in closer. Calebs eyes were half-lidded, heavy and dark, and you felt every inch of your skin burn with a desperate, aching want.
He tasted the sugar off your skin like it was the only thing that mattered, his tongue brushing the creases of your knuckles with carefully. You both knew friends didn’t do this, didn’t look at each other like they were ready to devour every inch of one another.
You bit your lip, watching him clean your fingers, your whole body tingling as he took his sweet time with you.
“Caleb…” you whispered, but there wasn’t really anything to say.
“Gotta keep you clean, right?” he teased, but even his voice sounded shaky now, pupils blown wide, eyes flicking to your lips for just a second too long, before diving right back in.
“R-right,” you breathed, your cheeks hot and heart hammering. Like that explained everything, like that was the only reason he’d done it. You both knew it wasn’t though.
His mouth left your fingers with a soft pop then, and you realized you were holding your breath.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, voice so small you barely recognized it.
He gave you a small nod, trying to steady himself. “Yeah. Anytime.”
He had almost given in, almost leaned forward to devour you like the mango in your hands. But he stayed still, forcing himself to breathe, to remember you were in public. Tara and Gideon were only a few meters away, oblivious to the problem in Calebs swim shorts from watching you lick your fingers.
And then, because you couldn’t help yourself, because you wanted to feel it again. To feel him again. You picked up a small bite of dragonfruit, offering it to him this time.
“Wanna taste?”
He hesitated, just for a second, then leaned in, lips brushing your fingertips as he took the fruit from you. And the look in his eyes when he swallowed it down, nearly undid you.
“Don’t waste any,” he warned, feeling his breath across your cheek, “Or i’ll have to clean you up again.”
Your body was still burning, his eyes never leaving yours and you just smiled, because there was nothing else you could do except keep pretending it was all just a game to him.
—ʚɞ
pt3 of my bsf caleb drabble (that i have yet to come up with a title for 😭) is coming super soon i promise.
ik i haven’t written for lads a whole lot but if anyone wants to be added to the taglist for future caleb/other interests fics lmk!!
