— myra • she/her • i just be posting whatever tbh • desi
🪽> lana del rey, vanilla perfume, joel miller, anime, catboys, mahito (pls send fic recs i beg), sobbing my eyes out over fictional men, editing, L&DS, money, pale blue, gaming, hella crazy nasty kinky smut & myself :3
after getting back home from serving in the marine corps, toji hopes to return to a normal life with his family where he’s mowing the lawn at ten am, having dinners and listening to his kids scream and giggle on the playground. not having to bury them after a trip goes wrong.
CASE 01: THE PUNISHER
PAIRING: punisher! toji fushiguro x defense attorney! fem reader
CONTENT WARNING: 18+ content, MDNI. angst. neglect from the zen’in clan/family trauma. mentions of murder and war. family loss. follows some of the canon lore. mentions of sleeping around. pretty much toji backstory.
NOTE: posting this before colombia wins tonight 😛 in all seriousness, this project’s so near and dear to me and i hope you all enjoy the read <3 a big special kiss on the forehead to @suguruss1ut and @sextier for listening to me talk about this/proofreading it MWAH
what is the value of human life?
some argue that value lies within how much an individual brings to a society, assessing what the cost would be of removing them as an asset. others say that every human has the same value as the person standing next to them simply for being a creature capable of cognitive thought and complex language.
and if you were to ask someone in the black market, they’d give a definite price on the overall health and sustainability of each organ. a heart for a million. a liver for half and some change. an eye for 1.5 grand. the value of a statistical life holds a life at the value of seven through ten million when analyzing risk and benefits of safety regulations.
nevertheless, toji zen’in never thought of his life having much value. he’s been an inconvenience since the day he was birthed onto this earth.
december 31st.
the zen’in clan never hesitated to go out with the food they set out for ōmisoka, large steel tokikoshi soba pots prepared almost two weeks in advance to symbolize the long, fruitful lives they wished to pursue with the coming of the new year. the temple was cleaned to perfection from top to bottom, each surface shimmering clean and purified before the dinner began at 11:00 pm exactly.
brass bells would be polished and wiped down to perfection, gleaming underneath the pale moonlight. they're tested months before december comes, assuring that they're only the best quality money can buy.
the first contractions happen at exactly 7:00 pm, his mother wishing he'd at least wait another day before he comes out. it starts off as a light cramp, something that could easily be dismissed under the guise of being a stomachache. but still, she does everything in her power to prolong his birth—from taking an hour long warm bath in hopes that her muscles would relax and the contractions would come to a stop to gulping down glass after glass of water.
none of these methods work.
streets are shut down in anticipation of the crowds coming from all over to count down the new year in shibuya, making traffic at this hour nearly impossible. while his parents should be at home, cleansing themselves in anticipation of the new year coming, they find themselves stuck at the same red light for nearly twenty minutes before moving up an inch.
his mother's nails dig into the leather of the car, pained groans leaving her lips with each wave that racked her body. the contractions were much quicker, much more often and much more intense. his father tried, really did try to hurry, honking at others, slinking into empty gaps people forgot to fill, all while whispering empty reassurances they'd be at the hospital soon.
they enter the hospital at around 10:15 pm, finding the emergency room full of people sitting around waiting for their name to be called. his father quickly takes care of the sign-in, easing his wife onto a chair.
the sound of the bells ring in the distance, rung 108 times, an earthly desire being removed with each one.
even if they don't get to celebrate the new year as was tradition, there's a brief moment of relief when he does come into the world. despite just being born, he's a boy—already marking him up higher in the line of hierarchy than most in the clan.
that sense of relief is nothing if not short lived.
he's reminded of how much of an inconvenience is throughout his childhood, how much of a failure he is when the lack of a cursed technique can't be excused with age or lack of experience. money was poured into his training, into honing him into the perfect weapon…only for it to be all for naught.
many of his cousins, uncles, and distant relatives have long since developed a cursed technique. his older brother, jinichi, didn't talk to him much either, making up some excuse about training with the hei, about being needed by their mother, something, anything to avoid being seen with the black sheep of the zen'in.
he tries, at first. he tries to impress his cousins with shiny new toys he manages to come across—whether that be a new ball or some flashy toy car. all he wanted was to get the chance to be included, to play the same as every other kid did. but toji doesn't manage to come too close before the group of children rushed away, scrambling to go play somewhere else like he was nothing but a deadly plague.
his aunts whisper. words cling behind the privacy of closed doors, words like ‘mistake,’ ‘disappointment,’ and ‘better off dead’ leaving their tightly pursed lips. if the opportunity arises, they don't miss the chance to tell his mother, to whisper such venomous thoughts in her ear. toji sees the day when she stops seeing him as her son, when she starts seeing him the same as everyone else.
as the very thing that cursed her to a life of shame.
the scraps of food she'd sneak to his room out of obligation? out of some twisted form of love? don't come again, leaving him scavenging for a meal, starving most of the time. his aunts continue to whisper in her ear, offers about how their husbands could easily rid the burden that smudged and dirtied the zen'in name.
there's not so much as a hint of shame on their faces when they catch him pressing his ear against the wall, listening in to every horrible word that left their lips. better for him to know early on what was thought of him.
"toji. follow me," his father calls out one day before leading him through a dark hallway, dimly lit by a couple lanterns hung up on the wall. his smaller footsteps pitter patter against cold concrete, struggling to catch up to much larger footsteps. footsteps he couldn't fill no matter how hard he tried, no matter how many hours he spent training in vain to make up for his own shortcomings.
they're greeted by a pair of large wooden doors, a dark aura emanating from the room before it's even open. it reeks of humanity's evil, of all the things that should be discarded and exhumed. toji hesitates before following after his father, welcomed into an empty room.
large rows line up the granite walls of the room, each one holding spirits toji can't see. he doesn't need to see them to feel them, though. to feel how starved they’ve been throughout their incarceration in this room.
"they're calm for now, only while i'm here, his father speaks, calmly, "when i leave, they'll come out to attack. do yourself and do us a favor, stop being a disappointment for once."
stop being a disappointment.
wooden doors shut behind him, sealing his punishment in stone. slowly but surely, the creatures start making their way out of their hiding spot upon catching a whiff of toji. upon catching a whiff of a mere mortal, of the perfect prey.
toji scrambles off his feet, stumbling as he makes his way over to the wooden doors. they won't open. there's no handle on the inside, almost as if they're meant to keep whoever dares to step inside, well inside. his fingers pry at the door, trying to get it open, to get them to budge even just an inch. they don't. they stubbornly remain shut.
"open up," he stubbornly calls out. it's not begging, but it is a rather desperate plea, "please, i'll try harder! just let me out!" his hands bleed with each claw he gives the door, with each second that his cries go unheard. his throat hurts, his hands hurt, everything hurts.
"please." his skin crawls over with goosebumps, the monsters circling around his body. a lamb to the slaughter. he hears their shrill whispers echoing through his skull—about how easy his flesh would be to rip through, how long they’ve waited for meal like this.
toji knows no one is coming, but still, foolishly, he waits to hear footsteps echoing across the hall. for his mother to open the doors, to envelop him into a hug he hasn’t felt in years. the first spirit lunges directly, fangs beared out and claws outstretched in front of its body. he glides through air at the speed of light, punching through the spirit before it even realizes it’s been hit.
purple goo hits concrete with a loud splat that resounds throughout the vast pit, the other curses immediately rushing into a battle. an army against a boy. every single one of his senses is finely attuned to each of their movements—smelling their putrid breath every step they take closer, listening in to claws scratching against concrete, feeling goosebumps crawl up his skin they prepared to attack.
none of the spirits managed to survive toji zen’in’s wrath. one of them managed to get a good scratch in, driving their claw through the corner of his right lip. crimson stained the floors then, creatures momentarily distracted by the taste of iron before he managed to get his final attacks in. his fist slid through thick layers of flesh as if it were nothing more than just sandpaper, leaving nothing but a trail of goo behind him.
fear sparked throughout the clan when he stepped out of the room with only a scar across his lip—he was supposed to be dead. those spirits were supposed to be troublesome, were supposed to be the finest arsenal that the clan had at their disposal. who was to say he couldn't massacre them the same way if he chose to do so? no one dared to face him anymore, trembling in their spots if he so much as came near before rushing in the other direction.
there were talks. about eliminating him now before he became a threat they possibly couldn't handle. "kill him while he's asleep," naobito suggested, words slurring while he spoke but filled with meaning all the same. the rest of them nodded, deliberating his life the way one would choose what to eat for dinner. his mom hesitated before speaking up, "is that really necessary?"
a pregnant pause befell the room before boisterous cackles burst through the walls, naobito near stumbling and falling from his spot. he took a few steps forward, the scent of beer on his lips while jabbing a wrinkled, crooked finger in her chest. "you want us to risk our safety over what you cursed this family with? we're already being treated like a joke by the other clans because of you, that boy was supposed to be the heir!"
she shrunk down underneath his gaze, shaking her head. "no, of course not. i don't think the clan should suffer over my… incompetence." naobito let out a scoff but didn't push further, walking back over to the front of the room. despite their words, no sorcerer alike was willing to go up against the man who managed to survive the pit. he went ignored.
the first time that toji zen’in kills a human being, a grade one sorcerer, he throws up. bile raises up his throat, burning as it drops onto a filthy hotel toilet. he's not sure how long he scrubs his hands for after, his skin dried up and yet, he's not able to rid himself of the blood that clings under his fingernails with a vengeance.
his eyes flutter closed—the image being imprinted in his mind so clearly. the sign of the man clinging onto the last bits of life, trying to desperately heal themselves to no avail. he remembers watching the life fade away from his eyes, watching the color shift to a ghoulish grey and the light dim down until there's nothing left.
nothing but residuals and a husk of a body to show for the life that he's lived for. but toji does what needs to do to survive. there's only one thought that courses through his mind— leaving the zen’in clan behind.
the second time that toji zen’in kills a human being is in the midst of a war, joining the military after turning eighteen and moving overseas with no money to his name or anywhere else to go. he doesn’t flinch when he pulls the trigger, when the man begs to see his family one last time. he’s been stripped away from compassion, from weakness into the perfect weapon. his commanders label the killing as a necessary measure to survive. he doesn’t question it.
his only focus is on survival. there’s not a day that threats don’t land on the base’s doorstep, locals telling them to get the hell out. humanity slips away from his comrades with each grenade thrown, with each member of the troop they have to bury. he hears things not meant for his ears—talks between the japanese and us government about allowing military entry into japan.
“admiral’s been talking. says that some sorcerer kenjaku’s trying to convince the president into intervening in japan. something about a new energy source,” one of his lieutenants speaks in a hushed whisper, the rest of the troop gone to bed for the night. toji inches forward to the carp, staying in the shadows. they don’t notice his presence.
“how many soldiers you think we’re gonna need?” the other responds, looking the carp at the slightest sway of the wind. “maybe ten to twenty thousand.” they continue to have their conversation under the guise of being private, sharing sensitive information about nuclear weapons, about how many soldiers were likely to die. toji doesn’t tell anyone what he’s heard.
he sees things he shouldn’t see, how his superiors don’t hesitate in killing a soldier as soon as they step out of line, as soon as they reveal information meant to be kept top secret. it’s not just at the top: there’s deals between soldiers and the locals—a couple thousand dropped in exchange for a new drug and weaponry trade.
the sound of missiles rushing through the atmosphere and the boom of artillery becomes the lullaby that toji zen’in closes his eyes to. he doesn’t dare to fall asleep for more than five minutes at a time, running off spite and caffeine more often than not. he saw what happened to the troops that got too comfortable—either killed by the enemy or by the higher ups themselves.
most of his comrades spend their time missing their family back home—spending each spare second they had available calling their wives and whispering promises they’re not even sure they can keep. every day blends into one: the same routine of being woken up by a loud blare at four in the morning, training until their bones felt like a glob of gelatin holding them together, addressing any threats, and eating dinner before going off to bed at nine.
it’s all the same to him.
there’s nothing for toji when his contract comes to an end. no home awaiting his return with excitement, no warm meals on his plate. just hotel rooms with paint splitting across the walls, toilets that haven’t worked properly in half a decade, and beds that leave him struggling to get up in the morning.
the money that he does end up earning from the tour ends up going into an expensive arsenal of weaponry and horse races. , often leaving him scrambling to count his pennies for the next meal he’d have. sometimes he’d get a woman to pay to sleep with him, pounding her through a squeaky mattress without so much as knowing her name.
toji didn’t hesitate on agreeing to another tour when his commander reached out.
—
light comes to him in the form of fushiguro-san.
it’s not long after he overhears the conversation between his lieutenants that his squadron is sent over to japan to investigate cursed energy and the special grade sorcerer: satoru gojo. toji sees the mission for what it is—a suicide mission commanded by his superiors.
no matter how many grenades, how many guns, how many rounds they have under their belt, none of that matters if they can’t penetrate through to attack the strongest. toji doesn’t mention anything though, simply keeps his head down under the guise of doing his work.
the streets of tokyo light up under fluorescent lights, shops open until late in the night for any stragglers refusing to go home just yet. laughter bubbles around him from the few people passing by, huddled up into small drunken groups. he steps into a small restaurant tucked away between two larger buildings, the warm scent of broth welcoming him as he stepped foot inside.
a young woman walks over, greeting him with a forced smile plastered across her face. “hi. what can i get for started for you twenty minutes before closing?” she questioned as she passed over a menu, her eye twitching at the last part. ah, he’d ruined any chance of her leaving early tonight. whoops.
toji merely meets her gaze with an amused grin on his face, raising a brow. he doesn’t so much as look at the menu before he questions, “what do you got?”
the woman in front of him shoots him a deadly glare, an exasperated scoff leaving her lips before she retorts, “if you look at the menu right in front of you, you’d see what we have.”
he shrugs. “i’m aware. i want to see what you recommend for me.”
the woman takes the menu, grumbling under her breath at the notion of having to work after hours all the way back to the kitchen. she comes back with a steaming plate of takoyaki, bonito flakes and mayonnaise coating the top of the octopus balls.
the first bite of his food is near heavenly—the tempura, octopus, and picked ginger filling formed the perfect symphony when landing on his tongue, the flavors complimenting each other spectacularly. scarfing down the food in less than five minutes straight, his plate’s licked clean and even the woman looks appalled by his gluttony.
she quickly clears her throat, imputing that order into the register. “that’ll be 800 yen.”
he digs through his pockets for a few coins, scattering them across the counter in front of him. “keep the change,” he tells her before heading out, pushing his hood back over his head.
counting the coins in her hand, she lets out a disbelieving scoff. “you’re three hundred and twenty yen short!” she yells after him, a few street goers turning to look at her, “asshole!”
“see you tomorrow!”
toji starts ditching the canned beans and near expired ground beef they had the disgrace of calling food at base to walk the three miles over to the restaurant she worked, coming over near closing time once everyone’s dispersed. he pulls his hood over his head, padding through near-empty streets like a ghost. a little bell chimes when he steps into the restaurant, fushiguro-san looking up from the teriyaki stain she was diligently trying to remove.
“i thought you wouldn’t show up,” she spoke up with a smile he could only describe as fond, setting her rag down on the table. toji pushed his hood down, slowly stepping inside (as if he’s waiting for the moment she’ll reject his presence) and plops down on one of the counter stools.
“couldn’t have you miss me too much.” she doesn’t dignify him with a verbal response, merely letting out a quiet scoff before moving into the kitchen. she reappears with a brown paper bag in her hand, grease staining the bottom of it and sticking to her fingers.
for a man who once didn’t have much to live for, who didn’t have anything to look forward to, he started to find meaning in every little meeting he shared with fushiguro-san. in every little thing he learned about her—in what she likes to do (“gardening, sometimes. i’m not that good at it but i still like to grow my own veggies when i can,” she’d shared over a warm cup of coffee), in what kind of food she liked to cook, in what she wanted to do outside of waitressing (“maybe i’d open up a small business, not really sure what i’d sell though.”)
toji wanted to be a better man, a man that was deserving to be in her life as anything other than the one she held pity towards. it wasn’t a change that happened overnight, none of his habits gone at the snap of a finger. stacks of lottery tickets were traded in for one per week, before eventually dwindling out.
where takeout boxes once scattered every corner of whatever hotel he happened to be staying in, they were now replaced by cutting boards, by pots and pans, by home cooked meals that practically tasted like love at the first bite. he had someone to come to when this tour was over, a home that they built together throughout the years.
toji saved up every last coin he had available to buy an expensive diamond ring upon his contract coming to an end, promising to stay by her side in sickness and in health throughout the rest of his days. it was a promise he intended to keep, she’d brought meaning into a life he deemed miserable and unfulfilling. he went from simply surviving to wanting to live, spending his time browsing through school districts, apartments, and nurseries as their little family of two grew to three with little tsumiki.
his commander reached out with another contract in exchange for a few years. “one tour and i’ll come home to you,” he’d whispered before his plane took off, placing the most gentle of kisses upon her forehead.
“we’ll be waiting for you,” she assured, a hand splayed across her stomach. “me, tsumiki, and megumi when he decides to come out.”
—
red.
that was the only thing toji could see when he turned around. his fingers trembled against the ice cream cones in hand, three scoops splattered across the floor as if mimicking the pools of blood dribbling and pouring out of his family’s bodies. he should’ve been the one dead, not them. if only he hadn’t turned his back around.
if only he hadn’t come back home from the marines.
if only he hadn’t stepped into that restaurant and ruined her future that afternoon.
it was all his fault and there was nothing he could do about it now.
there wasn’t anyone around, scrambling up to their feet to take off running before toji managed to catch up to them. the ice cream truck behind him pulled out of their spot in a rush, tires squealing against pavement. there’s just three bullet shells and the ghost of where his children had once been laughing amongst themselves.
it was too precise to be a coincidence—there were no other parents around, no one who would’ve simply targeted a group of strangers at a playground.
“dad, make sure to get me strawberry!” tsumiki had called out with a large grin, pushing her little brother in his swing. the little boy, in spite of often not sharing much emotion, giggled and clapped his chubby little hands each time she pushed him up higher.
“yeah, yeah, will do,” toji muttered, walking over to where his wife was sitting comfortably on a picnic blanket with a book on her lap. he pressed a small kiss against her cheek, her expression softening up at the contact almost immediately. she met his lips in the gentlest of kisses, one of her hands coming up to rest on his cheek.
tsumiki and megumi turned to look at the two, retching and pretending to throw up at the scene. pointing at the scene with scrunched noses and giggling as they shouted, “ewwww, gross!”
his wife let out a quiet laugh against his lips, the sound bubbly and airy and all too perfect after months of not hearing her. “get me vanilla too, please,” she whispered, pressing a small kiss on his cheek before he walked off.
toji walked over to the ice cream truck parked on the street, expecting to find an eager line of children in front of him with dollar bills clutched in hand. there’s no one there but him. maybe that should’ve been the first warning sign. “hey, what can i get you man?” the window opens, a relatively old looking guy looking out at him.
“one vanilla scoop, one strawberry, and one rocky road.” he passed over a ten dollar bill, the window in front of him shutting once more. toji turned around to see his wife smiling back over at him, giving a small wave. the next time that he happened to turn around, he wasn’t so lucky to be met with the same smile.
it was supposed to be a innocent trip to the park. where his children could enjoy a day in the fresh outdoors on a warm sunny day and run around, feel the grass underneath their feet. toji had just arrived from tour—basking in all the late mornings sleeping with his wife, waking up to seeing her smile at him, listening to megumi call him ‘dada!’ in person instead of a static phone line, and tsumiki paint all over his face like her personal canvas.
it wasn’t enough time. it would never be enough time.
he dropped down to the floor, fingers pressing against the gaping wound on his wife’s chest. he couldn’t feel a pulse beneath his palms, blood streaming through his fingers despite his attempts to put pressure on the wound. “stay with me,” his voice cracked, vision blurring at the edges, “stay with me, come on.”
her expression was frozen into one of shock, fingers stretched out by her side like she was about to run after the kids. his head dropped, holding her against his chest. blood smeared onto his fingers, face, and clothes but that was the least of his concerns. “ambulance’s almost here, just hang on.” deep down, he knows that she died the moment the bullet entered her body.
toji brushed away a couple strands that fell onto her forehead, touch as gentle as could be. he’d been given a little slice of meaning just to have it be coldly ripped away from his hands. red, white, and blue lights melted into a blur as police and emergency services rushed to the scene, asking him questions that he didn’t know the answer to.
“did you see who the culprit was?” no.
“do you have any reason to believe someone was targeting you or your family?” they were met with a deadly cold glare in response.
“sir, do you need one of us to give you funeral service pamphlets?” he was supposed to be thinking of their next trip as a family, maybe off to the beach. he didn’t dignify that with a response.
while today he’d be mourning his wife and children, burying their body in the ground while wishing it was him instead, he’d be out for blood tomorrow.
as always, i’d love to hear your thots and thank you for reading up to this point :3
do u think you'll ever write that roommate kaiser fic? please dont take this question as me rushing you or pressuring you!!!!! I am actually extremely grateful for any fic you do post regardless but im just curious if you'll ever write it ❤️
yes!! he sounds delectable... i have to find the draft on my other account but he'd definitely tease the shit out of you by always being fresh out of the shower, in a robe, in his boxers, and he'd just do some bullshit in your bedroom like surfing on ur computer, laying in ur bed, and flexing in the mirror its straight bodacuous
i said this before, but ill say it again... he jerks off in his room knowing the walls are thin and shit. he doesn't moan ur name or anything but god forbid he makes a little noise
he also knows how to do housework and shit. you expect him to be spoiled in that sense but he'll really clean up well, do the dishes, and hes a bit of a neat freak honestly butttt he refuses to do laundry
why, you may ask?
he just cannot handle seeing your panties and underwear, especially if you wear lingerie. he talks a lot of shit but his neck gets all flushed and his fingers are shaking as he tosses your underwear in the washer LMAO
i think it'd be such a fun college!au especially since he's always on some bullshit ... talking big, talking shit, but hes really a virgin 😔 i feel like you guys wouldn't really be that attracted to each other at first until the tension builds up and you're in his room talking about ur AC being broken
art :: @/narutoss.ramen, @/to0fu, @/thatsallitchief . dividers :: @/cafekitsune .
synopsis :: following every generic romance media known to man—there’s always a set of troupes that you’ll come across. now what if you relived them, only with a group of insufferably handsome men?
s. gojo :: academic rivals to lovers.
synopsis :: top of his class, and the campus’ star student, satoru gojo is used to being number 1. that was, until a scholarship student fucked with all his plans—the most unfortunate thing being that you were just his type. smart, witty and mean, you’re everything he’s ever wanted, if only his pride wasn’t in the way.
r. sukuna :: accidental roommates.
synopsis :: a registration mishap leaves you rooming with the university’s most notorious frat president—and now the two of you are stuck in a place you could barely call an apartment. together. so, it’s only fair you find something to agree on, right?
k. nanami :: fake dating.
synopsis :: hell bent on making your ex, gojo, jealous you found yourself wrapped in the hot valedictorian’s arms—in exchange for your connections he’s willing to play your little game to help make the white haired loser regret breaking up with you, only you find yourself drawn closer and closer to the mysterious blonde.
f. toji :: jock x nerd.
synopsis :: stellar athlete and captain of the ice hockey team, fushiguro toji is used to everybody knowing exactly who he is. everybody except the wallflower, the nerdy girl at the front of his class that seems to have no interest in him—only for toji, she happens to be the most interesting person alive.
waaaa tysm for 5k my babies :’D never ever ever did i ever think id get this far or this many people would gaf about my writing but im so eternally grateful for every single one of you guys & u mean the world to me 👩❤️💋👩 ty for being part of my stupid corner of the internet 🐇 !!
all works belong to @lilithkleia, do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI. lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.
𓏲⠀incel!mahito who gives you the stank face every time he sees you in public and tries to ignore you, like he doesn't stay hunched over his computer until 3 a.m. stalking your socials. he doesn't follow you though, nor does he like any of your posts.
𓏲⠀incel!mahito who bites his lip so hard that it sometimes bleeds when he sees you with a new boyfriend you got from god knows where. he hates them, he hates every single one of them. or maybe he hates you more because you never gave him a chance.
𓏲⠀incel!mahito who gets sweaty palms and hot cheeks whenever you talk to him or even just stand close to him.
𓏲⠀incel!mahito who fantasises about getting you under his desk, sucking his cock while he plays games, even though he knows he would fuck up and cum as soon as you wrapped your lips around him.
𓏲⠀incel!mahito who can't resist the urge to jerk off in his room after every minor interaction he has with you.
"mmfuck- i'm so gross... ngh-ahh, why am i even thinking about her - hic - like this?"
he ends up shooting his load all over himself, whining about how he didn't want to cum yet.
𓏲⠀incel!mahito whose feelings somehow got even more complicated when he saw you at the local game store. who do you think you are, barging in here like that? this place is for disgunting people like him, not beautiful girls like you who get stares left and right. you're probably another poser, just in here for the 'niche'.
but when he sees you picking up one of his favourite games, his breath hitches and he almost chokes on his own spit. he ducks and then leans on one of the stands, a hand over his mouth as he tries to remain unnoticed (and hide his raging boner).
𓏲⠀incel!mahito who cringes at the sheer thought of you having sex with him. he dreads the day when he will have to be naked in front of a woman (even though he doubts this day will come soon) and she will have to see all of his scars. he's skinny and weak, no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't get any muscle. he's sure you'd hate that.
𓏲⠀incel!mahito who, even though he has seen his fair share of badly animated hentai, has no idea how to treat a woman sexually. your first kiss is sloppy with too much saliva. he's way too eager and almost choked you with how deep his tongue went inside your mouth.
꩜ – FRAT PRESIDENT SATORU GOJO (and the shy girl he's obsessed with!)
(18+) HEADCANONS :: – frat!gojo x innocent!reader, college au, smut, dom!gojo, handjobs, praise, corruption kink, manipulative behavior, slight dub-con
frat president!satoru, who’s used to every type of girl at his party except you, all big eyes, wandering around his house like you didn’t know what to do. he’s asked suguru to offer you everything under the sun in the last thirty or so minutes — a drink, a smoke, a joint. you just politely decline, shaking your head so prettily.
frat president!satoru, who swears he’s just got an ego when he decides he’ll be the one to show you all of that and more. he could do it if suguru couldn’t, if no one else could.
he starts off all nice, walking you to all your classes, offering his sweaters in the lectures you had together (which he only started attending for you), buying you lunch and listening to your cute little rants about your worst profs.
frat president!satoru learns that you like being held when he’s the first one to find you after an exam you swear you’d failed. he doesn’t get it ‘til he’d realized your eyes are all glassy, so shiny as you peered up at him with wobbling lips, trying not to cry in front of him.
frat president!satoru loves the way you’d just melted into his arms after that. he calls you easy to his friends for it, but something inside him never wants to let go whenever you’re willing to press yourself into his chest, wherever you’re willing to do it.
frat president!satoru, who asks you what you’re wearing all the time and sends even prettier things to wear to your dorm when he thinks you can do better.
frat president!satoru, who’s spiraling at night, jerking off to your contact photo, wrapping his large hand around his dick and pretending like it’s that sweet mouth of yours engulfing his length. he imagines how shy you’d be, lips parted wide, smearing pre-cum and replacing your candy lip balm. he wants you tasting like him, those soft cheeks drenched in his cum, eyes screwed shut until he’s all you can think about.
frat president!satoru likes making you need him, doting on you and driving you around like a princess, spoiling you until you frown whenever his hand isn’t on your hip, or whenever he dodges your calls for fraternity meetings. he likes the idea that you might become obsessed with him (like he is with you).
frat president!satoru, who’s grinning cruelly the minute you finally tell him, “you know, you do so much for me, I feel like I’m not doing enough for you.” in that nervous voice of yours one day, while you’re tucked into his side at your apartment.
frat president!satoru, who’s never missed a meeting or a call until that day, when he’s finally got you whimpering shyly in his lap while he gently mouths at your neck, tasting that perfume he’s been searching online for for weeks, whispering about how he’s so grateful you wanna help him out, how sweet you are for making it up to him too even when you didn't have to.
but he’s been waiting for weeks, you’re all soft and impressionable on him, and he’s not letting a moment of your kindness go to waste.
frat president!satoru guides you with a husky voice when he teaches you to spit in your own palm and wrap your hand around his cock, nearly shivering at the contact — “make me feel good, pretty girl, it’s the least you can do.”
frat president!satoru, who just chuckles at the fact that you’re all nervous, looking up at him as if asking what to do next, just for him to wrap his palm around yours, engulfing it entirely. he groans lowly as he moves your palm up and down on his already-hard length, bottom lip catching between his teeth at how warm your hand feels against his dick.
“shit, just keep it like that, baby, up and down…”
frat president!satoru, who kisses you slow when you gasp at how he bucks up into your hand, keeping his own wrapped around it while desperately attempting not to just use you, jerk himself off with your tiny little fingers, maneuver you down and slam himself deep into your tight cunt. “hah — fuck, gorgeous, y— you’re good at this, huh? so good for me, so fucking cute…”
“i’ve never done this before,” you admit into frat president!satoru’s mouth, hushed and breathy like it’s a secret. he wants to fucking laugh, but he’s cut short by a low hiss as you thumb at his slit without him having to teach you, making him lose his mind piece by piece. shit, you’re just perfect, aren’t you?
“am — am I doing okay, satoru?”
frat president!satoru has nearly had enough of patience when you say that. shit, he bites down into your lip without even realizing, hand tightening around yours when you whimper. and it’s barely enough to notice at first, but he pumps your hand around him faster, growling into your mouth at the way your fingertips flex around his length, making a slick! sound that echoes across the room.
“you’re — shit, just like that — doing perfect, baby. so perfect.” frat president!satoru groans into your throat, even though he’s using your hand like a fuck toy now, smearing his own pre-cum mixed with your saliva all over his huge dick, bucking his hips up into your plush skin like a glorified fleshlight.
the only one he’s dreamed of in the past few weeks, at least.
frat president!satoru gets off on how eager you are to match his pace, his other hand cupping your cheeks to purse your pretty mouth open for him as he spits down your throat and relishes in your confused little whine. he doesn’t even realize how tightly he’s gripping your hand now, forcing you to jerk his cock faster.
“that’s it,” he pants into your lips, “just let me have you, okay? hah— so good, shit, you’ve been wanting this too, haven’t you?”
“satoru—” your voice is a wet dream, how it feathers off around the edges and breaks like you’re not sure.
frat president!satoru groans at the sound of your confusion. “been, fuck, thinking about this, baby. want you creaming on my cock next, yeah? or maybe it’s — haah! — too big for your first time. gotta — shit — prep you first.”
frat president!satoru spills into your hand with one last rough stroke of both your hands around his length, gasping low with his tongue down your throat as he finally lets your hand go. he watches the way your palm shakes, eyes dark, lifting your cum-covered fingertips to your mouth without thinking. and he thinks you won’t do it, until—
your sweet fucking tongue darts out to lick experimentally at your own fingers, and satoru thinks he’s gone to heaven.
frat president!satoru, who can’t help himself when he’s grabbing you by the waist now, laying you flat on your back and coming up to slot his knee between your thighs, committing the way your face scrunches up in both confusion and pleasure to memory. he thinks you’re the cutest fucking thing in the world, and he wants you broken in every way possible until you can’t fuck any other guy without imagining his dick.
“thank you, baby,” he grins against your neck. “can i make you feel good now?”
frat president!satoru, who decided he’d never let you fuck anyone else anyways the moment you'd nodded.
HOW MUCH CAN YOU TAKE? 'CAUSE I'LL GO 'TILL I ACHE ...
Cum, cum 'till you cry.
𝄞 synopsis: it's been three days since your best friend, SAE ITOSHI, had gone to your place. three days since you ruined the friendship. three days since he ate you out. when you visited his house by routine, you didn't expect to be alone with him in his bedroom. when you were in his bedroom, you didn't expect to ruin the friendship a second time.
𝄞 disclaimer: SEQUEL TO CHILDHOOD BSF!SAE X READER PT1 ! HOWEVER, NOT NECESSARY TO PRE-READ.
𝄞 contains: SMUT, fem!reader, reader has a mom, they r 19, swearing, childhood best friends, family friends & neighbours, experienced!sae, inexperienced!reader, bratty!reader, shy!reader, sort of shy!sae, snippet of oral (f receiving), making out, marking, hickeys, nipple play (f receiving), mutual masturbation, handjob, fingering, overstimulation (f & m receiving), dacryphilia, reader kicks him in the balls once, lil bit of miscommunication, sae calls reader idiot, stupid, dumbass, and a perv LOL, both r yappers
𝄞 word count: 8.3k + 614 bonus !
𝄞 credits: @g-gulp for making banner and discussing w/ me! also my irl friend for beta reading <3
𝄞 A/N: SPIT IN MY PUSSY
Ever since you were a child, everyone always flocked to Sae.
Whether it was because of his promising future or his looks, something about the boy attracted attention. And if it weren't for his somewhat abhorrent personality, you would even say he was made for the spotlight.
You say 'somewhat abhorrent' because even though he had a tendency to be an asshole, he was still one of your closest friends. That fact alone sparked enough controversy around school.
Pressing your phone to your ear, your mom yelled. "We have plans today with your aunt, so don't cause me any trouble!"
You sighed into the device. "Plans? Another dinner?"
"Yes. What's that tone for?"
"...Nothing. What time do I come home?"
"What time? You know what time, you—"
The line cut off, replaced with a loud dial sound. Great, you thought, placing your phone into your pocket.
You decided to pay a visit to the football field and bother Sae, who apparently liked to pretend he didn't know you. That you were some random girl telling him what's for dinner. What time he needed to be home. It was mildly understandable, since his rowdy teammates would always make a big deal out of it.
Because, frankly, you weren't his mother.
And you especially weren't his girlfriend.
Sae sat deliriously on a bench, chugging a bottle of water. His baby bangs were pushed back from sweat, accentuating the glistening slope of his cheek.
He huffed quietly as you stopped in front of him. "What do you want?"
"What time do we have to be at your house today?"
Sae shrugged. "I dunno."
Your nose scrunched in annoyance, plopping next to him on the bench. "Okaaay, then what time should I come home today?"
"I dunno."
"You're so annoying."
You reach into your schoolbag, unwrapping your sandwich from your lunchbox. Humming at the food, you stuffed the piece in your mouth.
Then, two cheery voices call out. "Hey, hey! We were looking everywhere for you."
Two of your friends stood in front of you, exchanging subtle glances and elbow nudges, wiggling their brows at you.
"Why are you here, hmm?"
"Oh!" you swallowed your first bite. "I was just asking Sae about our family meetup today."
Sae, who seemed to be observing the bugs on the ground, turned his head, lips pursing. "Hey, you got food all over you."
Then, his thumb came up to wipe the corner of your mouth, swiping his finger over your cheek.
"Ah— Stop doing that." You flinched, eyes darting to the girls in front of you.
He pulled back, long lashes fluttering at you. "But you're messy."
"Oh my god," your friends giggled. "Are you sure you're not dating?"
Your eyes widened, swatting away Sae's hand. "Ew, no! We are not dating. Never will date."
"Yeah, no," Sae sighed. "She's ugly."
Your eye twitched. Ugly?
You cleared your throat, the both of you nodding at your friends.
"See? Not dating," you said. "And besides, Sae keeps a stack of porn under his bed."
When was that? Six years ago?
You sighed into your sleeve, hiding yourself from your surroundings. Six years ago, you were denying every allegation thrown your way about Sae, that he wasn't your boyfriend or crush.
Six years ago, you were just friends. And three days ago, he—
Your head spun as the memory of him dipping between your thighs flashed through your brain, your foot tapping incessantly against the Itoshi house's floor.
You bit your lip, arms folding over your chest.
It's been three days.
Three days since you ruined your friendship with your childhood friend, Sae.
But since those three days? Sae's just been acting completely normal. Greeting you when taking out the trash, asking you to come over for dinner per his mom's orders, and staring blankly at you without a care in the world.
Normally.
It was so normal. Too normal.
And you were certain that on the day Sae kissed you, you would lose your virginity. It was a bit of a stretch—in fact, entirely a stretch.
Because, of course, Sae had been an asshole about everything—including sex.
...
The air was suffocating—light rays melting over your face, the fan whirling, and you?
You were gone. Almost.
You weakly tugged at his magenta locks. "S-Sae, I can't..."
He didn't respond, only peering from between your thighs. It was all too surreal—too much for you. And in all honesty, you would've thought it'd be too much for him too. Sae's entire face was soaked in your fluids, dripping down his chin, smeared over his cheeks and nose, and lips swollen and blushing.
Still, his grip spreading your thighs was firm, his wet tongue running a long stripe from your hole to your clit again.
"Oh my—" Your thighs trembled, attempting to close them.
Sae barely chuckled; you knew from the way his lips twitched against your folds. "Hmph."
His tongue prodded at your folds again. Then, his thumb and forefinger reached out and pinched your peeking hood, lifting it slightly and sealing his lips around the bud, sucking harshly.
"Mmm— Ah!" You whimpered, hips jerking. "F-Fuck, I hate you."
The words came out on instinct—a testament to his amazing ability to bother you. And yet, you meant no harm. Just the furrowed flick of your brow, the sweat dripping down your temple, and your poor, overwhelmed pussy.
"Hmm?" Sae hummed against your folds. "Tapping out now?"
Your grip on his hair tightened, your back arching from the electric sensations. "You idiot, a-as if 'I can't' isn't enough— Ah!"
His lips seared over your clit again, flicking the bud until your brain was officially mush and your abdomen grew hot.
"M'gonna cum again, m'gonna cum," you mewled, nails dragging on his scalp.
His breath ghosted your soaked folds, lips grazing your labia. "Then cum, stupid."
Stupid? You wanted to retort, but he slid a finger into your hole and pressed into a spot that made your hips jolt.
Compared to your fingers, his were huge. His digit flicked against a sensitive spot that made your clit ache. And it reached such a deep spot—
Your eyes blew open. "Sae!"
His name ripped from your throat as he slurped your clit into his mouth again, finger pumping in and out of your dripping hole.
The knot in your stomach undid, and another orgasm crashed down on you. At first it was euphoric—so brain-mushingly euphoric. But after cumming so many times, the feeling of euphoria consumed you. Made your abdomen warm, your thighs shaky, and your eyes glazed and wide.
Yet, your hips bucked over his tongue, riding out your high just one more time.
You twitched when his tongue began to lash at your folds again, whacking his shoulder with a bit more force. Your forearm rested over your forehead to keep you at bay, eyes burning holes into the ceiling.
Oh, fuck.
Sae withdrew his finger from your heat, pressing a wet kiss to your twitchy clit.
"Still with me?" He came up next to you, cerulean eyes drowning in mirth. "Open up."
His middle finger came to rest just by your lips, your slick dripping down his palm.
Did he seriously want you to taste yourself?
It didn't matter, anyway; the earth was spinning too much for it to matter.
"M'talking to you." Sae patted your cheek out of your trance, his gaze more directive and drilling. "Open."
Your lips parted over his finger, fluids melting over your tongue. The taste was salty but with a tinge of sweetness, tongue swirling over his digit.
"There you go." He stroked your stray hairs behind your ear, withdrawing his finger. "You are still with me."
The urge was pulling at you: the unspoken promise that tonight, you would have sex with Sae.
It made sense; you were curious and had no time or effort for dating, and he was right here all summer. Besides, Sae was already experienced, so what was the issue?
"Condom," you murmured. "Do you have condoms?"
His brow shot up in half surprise, half amusement and snickered. "For what?"
"For fucking."
"You wanna fuck?"
"Sae."
He had to hurry up before the dots skewing your vision took over, but Sae just kept looking at you like you were so incredibly funny.
You tug at the hem of his shirt once, blinking rapidly. "What?"
"I don't think you're in any state for that."
"N-No, let's do it."
"...No."
Your brows furrowed in annoyance, weakly yanking at his shirt. "Y-You're so annoying; I ask you for one thing... and you give me a hundred of the things I don't ask for."
Your head lolled to the side. "So annoying. I hate you..."
Sae's gaze switched from amusement to a softer one. "Hey, stay with me."
You wanted to reply. Wanted to fuck. But the dots in your vision were now spots, and your eyelids were oh so heavy.
Condoms.
You thought one last time.
We need a condom.
...
"Oh, dear, can you bring this up to Sae, please?"
Mrs Itoshi snapped you out of your trance, shuffling your feet over the bamboo flooring. "Oh, yes, Auntie! Sorry."
She handed you a plate full of enriching food—obviously meant for an athlete and their breadwinner son.
Mrs Itoshi was a rather tall woman with kind eyes and the same magenta hair Sae had—she did worry a lot, but it was endearing and sweet. So unlike the boy she raised.
She reached out to pinch your cheek. "My, you've grown so much, dear. After Sae came back, I really see how big you've become."
You smiled sheepishly, bowing your head. "Oh, I guess so."
"Ah, when are you going to get a boyfriend?"
You swallowed thickly. "Wha...? Boyfriend?"
She nodded profusely. "A boyfriend! You're so pretty and smart and young; I'm sure many boys like you."
"Oh, it's nothing like that."
"Ah, you don't have to keep it a secret," she cooed. "I won't tell your mother."
You definitely will tell my mother, you thought. Those two have been practically glued at the hip since high school. "No, really. I'm focusing on other stuff right now, but maybe later."
"Oh yeah," she nodded slowly. "But still, if you ever have problems, you can tell me."
"Okay, Auntie."
She smiled. "Go now. Make sure that boy eats."
You smiled again and waved her off, rushing up the stairs, a flush creeping up your neck.
If only she knew—well, it would be disastrous if she did. After all, how the hell were you supposed to tell a family friend that her son ate you out at your place a few days ago?
You took in sharp breaths in front of Sae's door. His bedroom was next to Rin's, and frankly, before he came back to Japan, it was your safe haven when you spent the days at the Itoshi household.
Your feet shuffled on the ground, slippers rubbing over the floor, before twisting the doorknob.
It shouldn't be weird, right? You thought. You've been doing this since you were kids.
The door clicked open when you saw Sae perched on his bed, a hand placed over his shoulder as he rolled his arm back. His brows were furrowed and eyes fixed on his arm, softly groaning under his breath.
Then, you met his gaze, quickly turning away from each other.
"Ahem," you cleared your throat. "Your mom told me to bring this to you."
He feigned silence but stopped rolling his defined arm, flexing it against his T-shirt sleeve.
Fuck, you thought. Don't look.
"Leave it on the side table," he said, biting back a whine. "Thanks."
You carefully placed the plate on his side table when you met Sae's gaze in curiosity.
Again?
As the seconds passed, knots began to tie in your stomach.
You both turned away, opting to fixate on his food, before he rasped. "What?"
"What?" you retorted. "It's just— Did you hurt your arm or something?"
You weren't facing him, back completely turned. But you could feel an oppressive heat creeping up your neck as the bedside lamp burnt softly, melting into the darkness of his room.
And for some reason, you knew he was feeling it too.
He mumbled. "My shoulder. Just from training."
"Oh, makes sense."
Silence charged the air. You were about to turn away, leave his bedroom, have some conscience—
"You know how to massage, right?" Sae asked. "I've seen you do it for Auntie before."
Well, yes, as much as any other kid was forced to massage their parents at a young age. You perked your head up, swallowing thickly. "I mean, I guess?"
Sae's gaze bore into yours—as if he were debating something grand in his head. His tongue clicked in his mouth.
"C'mere, then."
This was embarrassing. You thought, stepping towards him. This wasn't a good idea.
Yet, your fingers hovered over his exposed skin—settling on his defined arm, the faint hint of his veins running underneath his skin.
In a shaky breath, you whispered. "Where?"
"Here," he said, touching his right shoulder.
Your thumbs began to press into the knots in his shoulder. It was firm, nice to touch, press into, and squeeze.
"Is this okay?"
"Mm—" Sae groaned softly. "Go a little higher."
"Higher?" Your fingers moved, palm pressing into a spot higher than you were.
"Oh, fuck. You're doing good."
A flush crept up your neck, continuing to massage and relieve the knots in his shoulder. Sae kept groaning softly, like he was delicate—like he was vulnerable.
"Mm," he whimpered, the soft noise severing your thoughts. "Hurts now. Go higher."
You moved your thumbs higher, now pressing between his shoulder and collarbone. "Oh. Sorry."
Your brows furrowed, jaw clenching as your thumbs worked on him. It should be fine, right? You were massaging his shoulder that was separated by his shirt. And he's sore, so it should be fine—
Your eyes swept up his neck, meeting his gaze—low-lidded and pouring into yours.
He panted softly, brows furrowing. "Why'd you stop?"
"You— You look like you want to ask me a question!"
He kissed his teeth. "I want you to go lower."
"Lower? Isn't the pain in your shoulder?"
Sae cocked a brow at you, and then, you knew what he was asking for. Your thumbs moved down his clavicle, grazing down his chest. Featherlight, like he was something delicate.
Maybe to you, he was.
Your hands stopped at his chest, grazing the firm muscles underneath his shirt. Before you knew it, you were moving closer—so close that you could feel his breath ghosting your lips and the tip of his nose.
You blinked, eyes meeting his. And his fingers clasped around your wrist, pulling you closer.
"Uh uh," you whispered, palm pushing back on his chest. "You don't get to just do that."
Sae paused, feigning silence.
"What do you have to say about the other day?"
"What about the other day?"
"You— Don't make me say it," you huffed, hand still on his chest. "You're acting like nothing happened."
"...What did you want me to do?"
You blinked in disbelief.
Sae backtracked, thumb slowly rubbing your inner wrist. "I mean, you were curious, right?"
You paused, drawling out. "Well ... yes."
"I thought—" He scratched the back of his neck, a flush creeping up his ears. "I thought that's what that was."
"I was curious," you said, biting your inner cheek. "But you didn't exactly give me what I was asking for."
He cocked a brow. "You came. More than three times—"
"Shut up!" You clasped a hand over his mouth, your brows furrowing as he snickered.
Asshole. You could always tell when he was biting back a laugh from the crinkle under his eyes.
"...I wanted to, you know," you murmured, cheeks flushing. "Do it."
Sae muffled behind your palm. "You weren't ready, stupid. I could tell."
"Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?" you asked, removing your hand.
"You're too tight. And loud. And sensitive. Also, you move too much—"
"You— Shut up."
"What? You asked me what I meant?"
You huffed, fingers flexing. "Maybe if you didn't eat me out until my vision got blurry, I would've been ready."
He blinked, sighing softly. "Yeah? Well, maybe if you didn't keep whining like you wanted more, I would've stopped."
Your nose scrunched as Sae just quirked a brow at you, daring you to retort—to say something better.
Then, he barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "This is so stupid. C'mere."
Sae's fingers tangled in your hair, giving you a moment to back out if you willed. This is a terrible idea. You thought. So terrible—but if you pulled away now, the ache between your thighs would stay.
And you knew you were in too deep for that.
So, you leaned in, nose brushing his, and crashed your lips on his.
Asshole. Jerk. Bastard. You wanted to say, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him close. He groaned into your mouth, hands moving to tug your hips onto his lap. I'll get you next time.
Your knees landed beside his thighs on the bed, steadied by his firm grip on your thighs. His hand creeped up your hip, resting on your lower back.
You licked his lower lip—soft, wet, and plush—a signal for access. Letting out a soft moan, his lips parted, allowing you to prod your tongue at the roof of his mouth, stopping short behind his teeth.
He panted, exhaling warm breaths into your mouth as his fingers reached under your shirt, grazing your bare skin. "Easy."
You whined, lips chasing his. Sae cut you with a firm squeeze on your thigh. "Hm? Use your words."
You huffed. "My tongue."
"What about it?"
"Suck— Suck on it."
Sae's gaze—low-lidded and tempted—ran down from your eyes to your wet lips. Then, he leaned in, fingers reaching to tap your cheek, coaxing you to open your mouth.
His lips wrapped around the tip of your tongue and sucked fervently. It was hot and suffocating—he was hot and suffocating.
You mewled into his mouth, pulling him closer.
"Fuck," he huffed against your lips. "Fuck."
Your eyes flitted to his dishevelled face, hair pushed back and lips swollen. His lips kissed down your jaw, making his way down your neck.
"Ah," you moaned softly. "Wait—"
His lips grazing the skin of your neck sent electricity straight between your thighs—growing hot and aching with each second. Your head was spinning, hands fumbling to grab at his shirt—
Sae whispered against the juncture of your neck. "You're serious about wanting to fuck, aren't you?"
"...Of course I am."
He released his warm breath on your neck, pressing his lips closer to the spot under your ear.
You flexed your fingers, whining softly. "Is that a bad idea?"
"You're so..." he murmured, threatening a smile. "No, it's not. Nevermind."
His hands moved to your waist, laying you on his bed. Your back hit his fresh sheets, engulfing you in his sweet scent.
Sae hovered over you, forearms braced beside your head. "I don't have any condoms, so I won't do anything."
Your head tilted at his comment, which was... reasonable enough. "You could... pull out?"
He coughed. "M'not doing that."
You grumbled, fingers picking the lint off his T-shirt. "You could... buy some right now?"
"Do you wanna ruin the mood?"
"You're already ruining the mood."
"Tch, shut up." His lips moved to press against the spot beneath your ear, shooting shivers of sparks down your stomach. "S'because you're impatient, dumbass."
You scoffed. "You're saying I'm—"
Then, Sae bit down on your neck—hard.
"Ah!"
"Oh, shit." He pressed several kisses to the bitten spot, trying to soothe you. "You were talking too much. Got distracted."
Your nose scrunched. "You're such a dick."
He smiled against your skin, pressing kisses down your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth. His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, making you arch into him as gasps pulled out of your throat.
"Never thought I'd be biting you until today," he murmured, sucking on an untouched patch of skin. "Younger me would be confused."
"Older me is confused," you huffed out, yelping when he bit the juncture between your collarbone and neck. "Sae!"
He grumbled in annoyance, licking a stripe up your collarbone. "What? Stop disrupting."
"Anyway, I hope you don't mind..." he whispered, fingers crawling beneath your shirt and up your bare back. "I wanna see you."
His fingers stopped short at your bra, unclasping the piece.
"All of you."
Your mind was a blur when Sae discarded your bra, fingers fumbling for the hem of your shirt. He was on his knees, hovering over you. "Has anyone ever seen you like this before?"
You pursed your lips. "What do you think?"
Sae paused, his eyes crinkling a fraction. "So I'm the only one?"
"...Shut up."
He pushed your shirt up, exposing the soft skin of your stomach, continuing until the fabric was pushed over your chest.
He leaned down, pressing a wet kiss to your temple. You felt his nose brush against yours, turning to meet his gaze.
Then, your lips parted, tongue lolling out to meet his.
Sae's tongue flicked against yours, swirling slowly around the wet muscle. You whined against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck, licking over his tongue, and letting him prod the wet muscle in the cavern of your mouth. Let him see which spot made you whine and squirm. Let him see which spot made you chant his name.
When Sae pulled away, a string of saliva connected you together.
"Sae..." you whispered as he pulled back, the lamp illuminating the wet shine of his lips.
Sae snickered, warm hands resting on the underside of your breasts. You arched instinctively, eyes closing shut. His fingers ghosted up your chest, every featherlight touch trickling into your hot skin.
He touched you so well—so softly. Yet, he was everywhere except where you wanted him.
His index shakily grazed the slope of your breast, tracing a slow circle around your areola, watching your nipple bud up.
"Fuck," he murmured lowly. "M'gonna die."
Then, his fingers snaked to cup your breasts, giving a soft, desperate squeeze.
"M'gonna die," he repeated, nose brushing your cheek. "Pretty. You're so pretty."
A warm sensation trickled down your chest as his lips ghosted down your jaw, warm breath mingling with your exposed skin.
Your breaths were laboured and anticipatory as his lips pressed against the plush of your breast. "What are you gonna do?..."
His lips wrapped around the skin of your breast, sucking it into his mouth softly. You could feel his tongue flick against your skin, warmth shooting to your core.
You arched your back softly into him, whining softly. "Hngh—"
"Shh," Sae's teeth nipped at your skin, clamping down. "Haven't even touched you that much."
"Y-Yes, you have."
"Think you're just sensitive."
"Shut up."
His breath trailed from your breast to your nipple, breath perking the bud up. "M'not the one bein' noisy."
His hands snaked up your waist, thumbs brushing your stiffened nipples, adding pressure as your nose scrunched. "You are."
"S-Sae..." you mewled quietly as his thumbs pressed harder, rubbing firm circles into your aching buds. You pressed the back of your hand over your mouth, stifling your noises. "Shit."
"Hm?" His thumb and forefingers pinched your buds, tugging on them. "What is it?"
"It feels..."
"Good?" He smiled against your skin, hands pulling away, admiring your stiffened buds.
Then, his teeth sank into your supple flesh, swiping his tongue over the reddened skin. "I know."
Sae pressed wet kisses down the valley of your breasts, switching between nipping and sucking your skin. Your breath hitched, watching his head dip to your stomach.
"Sae?" you murmured as he pressed a wet kiss to the spot above your belly button.
"Hm?"
A purple splotch on your breasts and sides caught your eye. "Did you just— Did you do that?"
"Yeah?" He cast you a sarcastic glance, teeth nipping at the spot he kissed. "What about?"
"Why would you— How long is that gonna stay?" You lightly whacked his shoulder as he sucked the spot below your breast. "Mm!"
He swiped his tongue over the new, purpling splotch. "Depends. How hard do you want it?"
"Mm, I don't want people to see."
"People see you like this?" Sae's brows furrowed, lips ghosting over your side. "Like this?"
His thumb shakily grazed over the expanse of your chest, rubbing over your tightened nipple. Sae's gaze stayed on you, teeth sinking into the skin of your side.
He was teasing again. Playing around. Touching you in places that made you squirm.
"You—" you moaned softly, fingers tangling in his magenta locks. "Fuck, feels good, Sae."
"You like when I kiss you here?"
Your cheek grazed the pillows as he nuzzled his nose into your breast, gently biting your supple flesh. "Mm— Mhm."
His low-lidded gaze moved from your face to your tightened nipples, thumbing your waist. "You like when I lick you?"
His tongue ran a slow stripe up your chest, his eyes never leaving yours. The wetness left a glistening on your skin, illuminating a soft glow under the lamp.
Your fingers flexed in his locks, whining softly. "Y-Yeah."
"Want me to do it again?"
"Fuck— Are you making fun of me right now?"
Sae smiled—faintly, dignifiedly, and relentlessly—and leant into your chest. His breath ghosted over your stiff nipple before lolling his tongue out, running a slow, teasing stripe over the bud.
You squirmed, pulling the strands of his hair. "S-Sae!"
His fingers wrapped around your wrist, pinning it to the bed before murmuring against your glistening bud. "Look at me."
Your hazy gaze darted around the room before sweeping to him, hovering above your breast. "What?"
"I won't do this if you don't look." He licked another stripe up your nipple, thumb and forefinger moving to gently pinch the other. "That's my only rule."
A flush crept up your cheeks as he swirled his tongue over your bud—slow, unrelenting, and teasing. "Since when did we have rules?—"
Sae wrapped his lips around your nipple, tongue swirling around the bud as he sucked fervently. The wanton sensation swept over your nipples, shooting sparks to your aching core.
"Since now," he murmured, pressing a wet kiss to the stiffened bud. "You like it when I suck you here?"
You whined. "That feels!—"
He tilted his head, swiping his tongue over his lips. "Bad? You want me to stop?"
"No, no." You shook your head. "Don't stop."
Sae's lips ghosted your skin, moving to your untouched bud. "Could've said that, hm? I know you like it."
His hand reached to palm your glistening breast, softly squeezing the mound. "I know you do."
He wrapped his lips around your other nipple, tongue rubbing the bud in a slow, passionate motion. You arched into him as his forefinger flicked the other one, pinching and tugging on your wet bud.
"Sae!..."
He darted his tongue out to a single point, flicking the wet muscle over your stiff nipple. "Hm?"
"Feels good," you mewled. "Don't stop— Please don't stop."
Sae, unrelenting, wrapped his lips around your nipple again, sucking fervently on the bud while his tongue swirled. It shot a warmth across your chest, shooting to your aching core.
You rubbed your thighs together impatiently as his teeth nipped at your bud, gently tugging on it. "Ah..."
"Mm..." Sae's teeth grazed your tightened nipple again, pulling ever so softly. "Mm."
He pulled back, paying his attention back to your glistening bud, fingers shakily tugging the unattended one. He lolled his tongue out, licking a slow stripe up your sensitive bud.
Your jaw was slack and eyes glassy before fixing on Sae, who took your nipple into his mouth again. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked fervently, tongue swirling and lashing at your wet bud.
"Sae!" You whimpered, squirming.
"What now?"
His tongue was all too overwhelming—too good—that the warmth between your thighs throbbed with each passing second. You panted. "T'much."
"Sensitive?" He asked, fingers moving to pinch your aching buds.
"What do you think?—"
Sae grimaced—ever so slightly. "Thought you liked it."
You frowned, ignoring your burning cheeks. "Y-Yeah, but..."
"But what?"
"You're embarrassing me with all these questions!" You lightly whacked his head with your free hand, frowning at his pout. "And you said you wouldn't do anything!"
He huffed. "I am not doing anything."
You raised a brow before gesturing to your marked skin, running all the way from your neck to your breasts and stomach. "You are doing something, idiot."
"Hmph," he clicked his tongue against his cheek. "So what?"
"So what?—" You huffed, pushing yourself up from your palms. "You just keep doing anythin' you please, even though you refuse to do it."
"...We went over this; we don't have condoms."
Your brows furrowed, thumb swiping over the saliva at the corner of his mouth. "I know. So let me see your dick."
Sae coughed into his fist. "Let you see my— What?"
"Oh, so you can see every part of me, but I can't see your little dick?"
"Don't call my dick little," he scoffed. "Why do you wanna see it anyway?"
You fiddled with your fingers, your shirt still pushed over your chest. "Because... I wanna make you feel good too."
A flush crept up Sae's neck, his hand sweeping over his lower face as he snorted.
Your eye twitched.
Did he just laugh?
His shoulders slightly bounced as he giggled into his hand, eyes averting from yours.
"What?" Your jaw slacked open, staring as he laughed. "What the fuck?"
"You're confident, but," Sae snorted again. "I doubt your skills."
"Are you shitting me?"
"No."
You shook your head. "I don't think I'd be terrible."
"You'd be pretty terrible."
Your brows furrowed at his stupid remarks, your foot aiming for his balls, just like when you were kids.
He groaned, face contorting. "What the fuck?"
"Hm," you huffed, instead feeling a stiff, aching heat between his legs. "What is that?"
Sae let out a shaky breath. "You know what that is."
Your foot slowly pressed into his crotch. "Not really. How hard are you right now?"
Sae must have been aching from the way his cock jumped in his pants, straining against the fabric. You tilted your head curiously, feeling his stiffness. It was hard, albeit a little squishy and twitched terribly—
He huffed, lips twitching. "I swear to god, that's enough."
You were about to press harder until he caught your ankle, moving your foot to the bed. "Fine. You can see my dick."
Your eyes lit up as he moved to adjust his waistband, his hand reaching into his sweats. "See how fuckin' 'small' it is."
His elbow dipped into the sheets beside your head as he hovered over you, cerulean gaze pouring into yours. Fingers reached into his sweats as he pulled his aching cock from his pants, pushing the fabric down.
A day ago, you thought you had some semblance to what a dick looked like in person.
But Sae's was foreign. Twitching. Almost, almost even blushing.
Fluids pearled at his tip, trickling down his shaft. His hand wrapped around the tip, slowly pumping to the base. "... Fuck, this is embarrassing."
"What is that? Did you cum?" Your cheeks burnt as he pumped softly, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.
"No, idiot. It's pre."
"What is pre?"
"Pre-cum?" Sae's brows furrowed. "It's like when you get wet, almost."
"Oh," you bit back a laugh. "You must be really sensitive then."
"Yeah, yeah. Don't get so—"
You reached out curiously, forefinger pressing against his tip, where pre-cum leaked out. It was sticky and slick, collecting at the pad of your finger.
A stuttering gasp pulled out of Sae's throat, cock twitching as you touched him. He shakily pumped his cock once more, hips bucking into his hand.
"Fuck you," he panted. "Fuck you."
You bit back a laugh, pulling back. "Can I touch it?"
His forehead dropped to your shoulder, damp bangs pressing softly into your skin. "Don't do what you did last time. Wrap your hand around it."
You couldn't see his face, but you felt his breath hitching against your skin and his hand snaking to yours—wrapping around it and slowly guiding it to his cock.
Your breath hitched as your fingers wrapped around the base, your thumb and forefinger barely brushing each other. He swiped his tongue over his lips, brows furrowing as you squeezed softly. "Like that, mm— Good, just go slow."
His wet lips pressed between your neck and clavicle, licking a stripe up your skin. Like some means to distract himself. To distract you from the slight stutter in his hips.
After observing Sae for so long—since he first scored into a net, since he failed almost all of his classes, and since the first girl in your class gave him chocolates—you knew it would be futile.
You've been watching him for so long. Observing him for years. Because one day, you might come and find out these things yourself—touch him, learn his movements, tease him.
His cock was sticky, maybe from all the pre-cum dripping onto his shaft or the heat of your bodies. You gently squeezed his base, hand slowly pumping up to his tip.
He nuzzled his nose into your neck, teeth baring and twitching to nip at you. "Slowly."
You swallowed thickly as your hand stroked his tip, dragging it back down to his base. He moaned quietly into the juncture of your neck, eyelashes fluttering against your damp skin.
"Shit," he cursed, something close to a whimper edging at his lips. "Like that."
His hips bucked into your hand as you squeezed his cock again, stroking the sticky mess up to his tip, where pre-cum pearled at the head.
He throbbed in your hand, the tip blushing redder and redder. Your cheek nuzzled against his as your head turned, lashes batting against each other's skin as you gazed into him.
Sae's eyes—usually lazy and unbothered—crinkled ever so slightly, staring into you.
You squeezed his tip, your thumb brushing his slit as pre-cum soaked the pad of your thumb. Lips ghosting over his, you paused and pressed your lips to his, tongue prodding into his mouth.
Something akin to a whine melted into your mouth as his hips spasmed into your warmth, hand dragging down his base, and—
A wet, sticky fluid spilt onto your hand, all the way down your wrist. Your tongue swiped over his before pulling away, meeting his flushed, redden tip and something new—no, something lewd on your skin.
He swallowed thickly as you observed the white mess on your skin, eyes meeting his.
Sae turned away.
"Did you cum?"
"...Shut up."
You pressed the back of your clean hand over your mouth, flush creeping up your neck. "Wow, that was kind of... quick?"
Sae's ears reddened, his tongue clicking against his cheek.
"Is it always that fast?"
"No, stop talkin' about it." He murmured. "That was a one-time thing."
"I thought you were like, experienced."
"I am."
"But that wasn't even a minute!"
"You— You kissed me."
He cast you a shy glance, lips pursing. Eyes fleeting to his still hard cock, you swallowed thickly. "...Right."
Your hand brushed his base again, fingers flexing against his sticky skin. "Can I do it again?"
"I dunno. That made me shy," he whispered. "Let me touch you this time."
Your hand wrapped around his shaft again, pumping slowly. "But you're still hard."
He let out a low gasp, fingers snaking to the edge of your waistband. "So? We both have hands."
His hand slipped beneath the fabric, the pads of his fingers brushing against your twitchy clit. "Might as well use them."
Sae's index and middle fingers rubbed the soaked fabric covering your entrance. "Shit, you're so wet."
"Because you kept kissing and biting me everywhere— Fuck."
His middle finger dipped beneath your panties, collecting your slick on his fingers. "What was that? Sayin' something?"
You squeezed his shaft harder this time, pumping your hand up to his tip. "Fuck you."
"Can't today. No condoms."
A grimace crept onto your lips. "Not funny, Sae."
He chuckled, the vibration melting into your skin before his lips met your own, tongue swiping the spot behind your teeth. You whined into the kiss as his fingers crept lower, brushing your entrance.
"I think you're ready," Sae whispered against your cheek, his hip nudging you to spread your thigh. "I'll do one finger for now, okay?"
You nodded, breath hitching. "My shorts."
"Want them off?"
"Mhm."
His fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts and panties, pulling the fabric off with a few smooth tugs. Discarding your clothes onto the bed, his fingers curled by your entrance, his middle finger pressing against the spot.
Your hand gripped his base tighter, slowly pumping to his tip and back whenever you could, lips brushing his. "Sae."
"Relax, relax." He urged, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as you pumped. "I got you."
His middle finger prodded at your entrance, angling it so, and dipped inside. Compared to the first time he tried to finger you, your hole accommodated him, soaked folds twitching as his thumb rubbed sticky circles on your clit.
Sae let out a low whine as you squeezed his tip. "Mm, you're so fuckin' wet."
"It... It doesn't hurt," you moaned sweetly.
"Yeah?" He leaned in close, lips brushing your temple as the tip of his finger prodded at the entrance of your hole—brushing against every ridge and spot that made you react. "Feel good?"
"F-Feels good," you whined as his entire finger slid inside, curling at the roof of your pussy. "Ah!"
"What, that feels good too?" He whispered. "Did I touch your G-spot?"
Your hips bucked into his finger as he curled again into the same spot, a new warmth settling into your abdomen. You nodded hazily, your free hand moving to grip his shoulder.
"S-Sae, how should I touch you?"
He raised a brow, his finger sliding in and out of your wet heat, curling into the spot that made you buck. "You're doin' well so far."
You shakily pumped from his tip to base, squeezing the sticky shaft. "How should I touch you to make you cum?"
Sae's gaze averted to the pillows, flush creeping up his neck. "You wanna go there?"
"I don't wanna cum alone," you breathe out. "Not like last time."
His head dipped to watch your fingers slowly stroke his cock, remnants of his previous pleasure creeping in his abdomen. "Rub your thumb over the slit right there."
He slid his finger and pressed upwards as you swiped your thumb over his slit again, rubbing it in a sticky side-to-side motion. Squeezing softly as his hips bucked, he withdrew his finger. "Fuck, like that."
Sae's eyes squeezed shut, teeth catching the supple skin of your neck. "Gonna cum if you keep doin' that. You wanna make me cum?"
"Mhm, wanna see you cum," you said, biting your lip and thumbing at his tip.
"Before you?"
"Before me."
He laughed, low and shaky. "T-Then rub the underside. It feels— Fuck, you know how it feels."
You did know how it felt to be touched so sweetly that you could go insane. Maybe Sae taught you that feeling, but it was something you knew too well. Something you wanted to chase. You thumb at the underside of his twitching cock, rubbing in sticky circles.
His head threw back, eyes screwing shut. "Shit, shit."
Sae was already sensitive and brainless beyond comprehension. You were just too good for him—too good for his nerves to settle down. If he came again, he would seem beyond stupid. Beyond precise. But you kept asking him where to touch, how to touch, how to make him feel good.
He couldn't help but indulge you.
So his soaked finger moved to graze your wet, twitchy folds, rubbing sticky circles onto your clit. "If you wanna cum too, then fucking stop."
You smiled—faintly, dignifiedly, relentlessly—and continued to pump his cock. Rubbing his pearly slit, thumbing the underside of his tip, and dragging your hand down to his base.
It was all too much. His hips were already bucking into your hand, and his fingers were already shaking against your folds.
Not again. He thought, lip trembling. Not again.
You rubbed your thumb into his slit once more, giving a soft squeeze. And with that, ropes of white spilt from his cock.
You continued to pump him, brows furrowed and gaze fixed. "Again?"
"Fuck, stop that." He grabbed your wrist, letting out a shaky breath. "You're so..."
Sae ran his fingers through his magenta locks, hips still spasming and cock twitching. "M'not usually like this, just so you know."
"I know," you nodded, biting back a smile. "Don't be embarrassed."
He kissed his teeth, tongue swiping over them. "Shut up. Go on, do it again."
He loomed over you, warm hands splaying over your smooth thigh. Lips brushing your ear, Sae whispered. "I swear to god I'll make you cum this time."
Your hands found home on his shoulders as his hand between your thighs again, middle and ring fingers slowly rubbing your folds. He started slow, rubbing sticky figure eights at your entrance before snaking his way up to your twitchy clit—softly pinching the hood.
Sae's lip trembled against your cheek as your hand reached for his cock again, gripping the antsy base. His tip blushed red as you began to pump his overwhelmed cock in slow strokes.
"Fuck," he whined, his thumb and forefinger lifting the hood before massaging sticky motions onto your peeking clit.
Your hips jolted, mewls pulling from your throat as he continued to rub—eyes low-lidded and fixed on your soaked folds. Sae's hip nudged your squirming thighs apart, fingers snaking down to your entrance again.
"I neglected you, huh? Neglected your fuckin' pussy?" He chuckled, the words coming out shaky as you continued to stroke him up and down.
"S-Sae," you whined, squeezing his tip noticably harder. "Put it in already."
His nose nuzzled your skin as your hips bucked to meet his fingers, pulling back to rub slow circles into your folds.
"Haah— Just give me a second, hm? Gotta adjust to your—" Sae whined lowly, exhaling shakily. "Gotta adjust to your hand squeezing me."
Your hand stilled over his flushed cock, brows furrowing as he slid his ring and middle fingers into your wet heat. "Your fingers!—"
Sae's fingers have always been longer and bigger than yours, now mushing into your tight hole. It stung a little, but the pleasure that he gave was too much—too good to pass up on, thighs shaking as he pressed up on a spot that made you whine.
His breath was mingling with your own, and your hand began to drag up his cock again, thumbing his flushed tip. "It hurts a little, Sae; wait."
"I know, I know. J-Just..."
Sae's thumb massaged sticky circles on your clit, coaxing your hole open. He bit his lip as he slowly pulled his fingers out, the pads of his fingers dragging against the roof of your cunt.
Then, with a click of his tongue, he pushed his digits back in, curling upwards.
"Sae!" you moaned, squeezing his base. "That's— Fuck, s'good."
"Good, hm? Doesn't hurt?"
You shook your head as his thumb flicked at your puffy clit, fingers dragging out and in. "D-Doesn't hurt, mmph."
"Yeah? 'Cause you're hurtin' me right now."
Your hazy gaze fleeted down to his flushed cock, getting impossibly squeezed by your hand.
"Oh, oh shit," you let go, thumb and forefinger shakily rubbing his slit. "M'sorry."
He whined into your ear, teeth nipping the sensitive skin. "Fuck— You're makin' it worse, kinda. I'll cum again."
You swallowed thickly. "Again?"
"Shut— Shut up," he murmured, teeth sinking into your cheek.
"A-Ah!" you yelped, wrapping your hand around his tip. "What the fuck?"
"You asked for it." He pulled away, eyes low-lidded and fixed on yours, pressing a kiss onto the spot he bit.
You panted.
So did he.
And a lewd idea flashed through your head—making him cum over and over again until he couldn't think. That would be a sweet revenge for what he did to you last time and a perfect image in your head.
But Sae leaned in, lips brushing yours. "Let's cum together then, hm?"
Then, his lips swallowed yours, tongues swirling against each other's—prodding into the wet cavern of your mouth. You whined into his mouth as his fingers began to piston in and out of your soaked hole at a new, quickened pace, curling into a sweet, electric spot.
"Sae," you moaned into his mouth. "You're goin' fast."
He swallowed your moans, lips searing over yours. "That's the idea."
Your hand squeezed his shaft, pumping quick, sticky motions up and down his cock. His hips shuddered into your hand, breath getting more laboured as you continued.
"Not gonna be gentle?" he panted against your lips. "After you made me cum so many times?"
"Wan' you to cum one more time," you whispered as he curled his fingers up. "P-Please?"
His digits slid in and out of your hole, each push harsher than the last one. Something hot and bursting knotted in your lower stomach, hips jolting every time he curled his fingers. "Sae!"
Sae's tongue licked a stripe over yours, sucking the wet muscle into his mouth. "Fuck— Fuck, m'gonna cum soon."
You panted, whining into his mouth. "I-I can't!"
"What's that?" His thumb moved to shakily rub quick circles on your clit. "Of course you can."
Your hips lifted, hole clenching around his digits as you squeezed his cock. "Sae!"
Sae. Sae. Sae. Sae.
He whined against your lips, cock spasming in your hand as you pumped erratically—up and down, thumbing his slit, the underside of his tip.
"You're perfect," he sputtered. "P-Perfect."
Sae's digits pistoned into you at a maddening pace, curling so deeply into your gummy spot. Your vision began to blur as you moaned into his skin. "Sae!— Sae, I'll cum!"
His lips found yours again, tongues swirling over each other's as you whined. Your hips spasmed against his hand, your hand squeezing impossibly tight and—
His digits pressed into the same sweet spot, and the warm knots in your stomach undid and burst, washing over your body in electric rivulets.
You felt something hot spurt onto your soaked hand, stilling against his cock.
Sae was right. He did cum again.
His lips pulled away from yours, his free hand wiping over his face. You panted, bleary-eyed and dazed, as his digits continued to pump in and out of your slick, slower this time.
"Sae?..." you murmured, giving his cock a final squeeze, and—
Sniffle.
Your head snapped to his covered face, his breath shaking. "Sae?"
He swiped his tongue over his lips, fingers trembling. "Shit, I just came a third time..."
Sae removed his hand, and that's when you saw him raw. His cerulean eyes welled with tears, threatening to spill at any second.
"Fuck," he wiped the stray tears. "My dick's gonna die young."
You scoffed, jaw slack. "Are you crying?"
"Are you judging?"
"No, no. I just..." you panted as he pushed himself up, digits withdrawing from your folds. "I'm surprised."
"How is that surprising? I came three times," he huffed. "You really are a pervert."
A pervert?
"Hey! What the fuck?—"
"You owe me," he murmured, hands prying your thighs apart. "I don't like to cry."
Shit, you thought as his hand moved, palm facing up, and his ring and middle fingers slid into your soaked folds.
You were so fucked.
"You can take it, right?" Sae panted, fingers curling into your gummy spot. "I took what, three? You can take three, four, five more?"
His other hand reached up to pinch the hood of your puffy clit, lifting the hood as his thumb rubbed sticky figure eights into your bud.
You arched your back, hips jolting from his overwhelming touch. "Sae!"
"Shut up," he huffed, digits pressing into a sweet spot.
Your eyes squeezed shut as he leaned into you, lips wrapping around your stiffened nipple. "S-S'good."
Sae's damp bangs pressed against the smooth expanse of your skin, tongue swirling around the bud before his teeth nipped at the edges.
"Fuck," he murmured, licking a slow stripe around your nipple. "You can take it, right?"
You whimpered as his digits pumped into your hole, clenching around him for the nth time. "I can take it."
"Good," he murmured, thumb rubbing your overwhelmed clit in a relentless side-to-side motion. "See how many you can take."
His teeth sank into your chest as you moaned, hips stuttering. It was going to happen again while you were still sensitive. Before you could catch your breath and take your time to cum—
Another orgasm crashed over you. Hard and messy. But his fingers didn't stop or slow down, even as your head spun and tears pricked your eyes.
Sae panted, hand splaying over your lower stomach. The lamp illuminated a beautiful shine on his face, light catching the slope of his cheek. His thumb reached out to wipe the stray tear from your cheek. "Crying already? Don't be like that."
He panted, tongue clicking against his cheek. "Two down, three more to go."
It's been three days since Sae had eaten you out at your place.
Three days.
And now, Sae was going to make you cum three more times.
Three times?
You were so unbelievably fucked.
BONUS !
The rays of light scorched your skin as you sat on a field of grass.
The sun was surely melting your skin as sweat dripped from the back of your neck. Your mom had pestered you in the morning about it and spun your hair into the tightest high ponytail in existence.
Gosh, it was so annoying. This day. The hot weather. This stupid game.
Next to you was a boy about two years younger than you with a head full of dark hair and big, babyish eyes. He was short enough to stand at your sitting height, his tiny fingers pawing at the fence.
"Nii-chan," he murmured, teal eyes fixed on the football field. "Nii-chan! Nii-chan!"
Mrs Itoshiiii... You thought, picking at your shirt. Rin's talking to himself again.
Some other kid walked past the fence, pushing the small boy off balance, but your arm quickly shot out, rushing to Rin.
"Rin!" his head landed on your arm, eyes wide yet unfazed. "Are you okay?"
He nodded, not even looking at you. "Why aren't you watching Nii-chan?"
"I am."
"No."
"I will."
Rin puffed out his cheeks before scrabbling to his feet again. "He's gonna score again."
You tilted your head, eyes fixing on the field. Your mom had always forced you to watch Sae's games since you were six. It had been a weird tradition, and frankly, you were tired of the cheering and stacks of awards given to the annoying, stupid kid.
But Rin? He adored him, so much so that he could psychically predict his goals.
And he was right.
Sae spun, dodging the other player, before shooting the ball, scoring clean into the net. His face was concentrated, almost calculated, and proud—one of the reasons you thought he was so incredibly annoying.
The crowd cheered vehemently while Rin did his little victory dance.
Sae's team won.
Again.
You puffed out a sigh, used to this sort of thing, when Rin turned around, his head a little big for his body, like he was going to topple over at any given moment. "Isn't Nii-chan the coolest?"
"Yeah," you said. "The coolest."
Sae's cerulean gaze shot out to yours in the crowd—well, maybe to his little brother's—and he smiled. Faint, dignified, and relentless. Sweat beaded off the side of his cheek, staining his fair skin.
Then, his hand reached for the hem of his jersey, wiping his sweat. Your eyes flitted down.
Oh my god. Your eyes widened. Why is his stomach so toned?
Bells were flaring in your twelve-year-old head—not wedding bells, more like... bells. Just bells.
It reminded you of all the Webtoon you've consumed at night, where the guy's muscles are toned and firm and nice. Obviously, he would have to do some exercising in football practice. He didn't quite have muscles yet, but the exposure of his skin had your cheeks flaring with some weird feeling. It reminded you of—
A flush crept up your neck, the realisation of your thoughts hitting you.
Ew!
Cooties. You thought, softly patting Rin's back. Cooties.
Oh, but Sae was already making his way towards you. You frowned, pushing yourself up on your palms.
Great, now he was going to open his mouth again.
He hooked his chin over the fence, grinning at Rin. "See that, Rin? Another goal to becoming the best striker in the world. And I got another trophy."
"You're amazing, Nii-chan!" Rin hopped, smiling as Sae ruffled his hair.
"And what about you?" Sae asked.
"What about me?"
"Was I amazing?"
You huffed, turning away. "Shut up."
Rin cut in. "But Nee-chan, you said Nii-chan was the coolest."
rating: explicit/nsfw
category: f/m, caleb/reader, reader-insert
tags: childhood friends to lovers, pseudocest, mutual pining, domesticity, playfight, sexual tension, homecoming, suppressed!caleb, yearning!caleb, submissive top!caleb, insecure!caleb, forced proximity, forbidden/risky, “be quiet, granny will hear us”, making out, dryhumping, p in v, mirror sex, backshots, leg hooking, aftercare, i think that's it?
wordcount: 15.9k
PREVIEW : “wait, what the hell?!” you gasped, your hands flying up in a knee-jerk reaction to push him back, but caleb's hands immediately shot forward to pin you back down against the couch. “see?” caleb murmured, leaning down closer, his hot breath fanning across your cheeks, smelling faintly of the mint gum he'd been chewing. “you couldn't even move before i did this. you can't even defend yourself, you silly girl. that means you still need me to protect you.”
SYNOPSIS : what was supposed to be a casual homecoming quickly devolves into a suffocating game of unspoken jealousy and long-awaited confessions where every shared glance and tight space threatens to collapse the boundaries of your childhood friendship. trapped between the ticking clock of his limited sixty-day leave and the terrifyingly possessive reality of how much he’s missed you, will the tension eventually snap?
caleb is coming back this summer.
the heat of early june in the province always carried a specific kind of weight, heavy with the scent of sun-baked asphalt, dry grass, and the faint rot of fallen mangoes in the backyard. it was summer, finally! the kind of summer that felt less like a break and more like a threshold. you had just wrapped up your sophomore year at the state university down the road, a year spent navigating crowded lecture halls, cheap iced coffees, and a revolving door of new faces that you tried very hard to care about.
for the first time in your life ever since, you and caleb hadn't shared a daily routine.
after eighteen years of being so aggressively attached at the hip that your shadows practically bled together, the last four years had seen you both drifted into your own separate worlds. it was a strange, quiet realization: you both had lives of your own now.
caleb had packed his bags for that prestigious aerospace academy up north, his childhood fascination with the sky hardening into a fierce passion for flying. you, on the other hand, had stayed behind anchored to the familiar soil of your hometown just to float between random orgs, shifting friend groups, and the vague pursuit of figuring out who you were when you weren't “caleb and his girl.”
and today, he was coming home....
the question had been humming under your skin all morning, rhythmic and annoying like a cicada’s buzz. did caleb change? would he look different? act different?
the last time you saw him in the flesh, right before his departure, he had already begun to outgrow the lanky, boyish frame you could map with your eyes closed. his shoulders had broadened, his jawline cutting a sharper silhouette against the terminal lights. he had looked less like the boy who used to help you steal guavas from the neighbor's tree and more like a stranger you'd cross the street to look twice at.
”make sure you tell him to eat properly while he's here,” granny had mumbled earlier this morning, her voice thick with sleep as she shuffled around the kitchen, adjusting the mesh food cover over a plate of fried rice. “that boy always forgets to look after himself when he's excited.”
you had laughed, buzzing with a restless, frantic energy, nodding quickly as you practically flew out the screen door. you didn't even bother putting on real shoes—just slipped your feet into a pair of worn-out rubber slippers, the soles thin enough that you could feel the morning grit of the driveway beneath your arches.
gideon’s car was already idling by the gate, the exhaust coughing a pale plume of smoke into the crisp morning air. gideon, caleb's friend and the closest thing you both had to another brother, had come back from the city a few days earlier because of some vague corporate endeavor he refused to elaborate on. his early return was a stroke of luck; it meant you didn't have to brave the crowded public transportation to get to the drop-off terminal.
“look who finally crawled out of bed,” gideon teased as you yanked the backdoor open and threw yourself into the backseat. the leather was cool against the backs of your thighs, a sharp contrast to the mounting humidity outside.
“i've been up since five, actually,” you shot back, leaning forward so your chin was practically resting on the gap between the two front seats. “go, go, go. we're going to be late, gideon!”
“we have forty minutes, calm down,” gideon chuckled, throwing the car into reverse with practiced ease. his hand spun the steering wheel effortlessly as he backed out onto the main road.
the moment the car straightened out, you immediately started. you couldn't help it. the questions poured out of you in a breathless stream, all of them centered around the one person who hadn't been here. because gideon and caleb were in the same university for college, gideon was your only real window into caleb’s new life.
“is he still doing those crazy flight simulator hours? did he actually pass his survival training or did he cry? does he still sleep with three pillows? is he... does he look different, gideon? like, really different?”
gideon navigated the familiar potholes of the provincial highway, answering each query with a patient nod of his head. he was used to this. he had been the buffer between you and caleb ever since.
“he's fine. still a nerd about planes,” gideon said, glancing at you through the rearview mirror with a knowing smirk. “he passed the survival drills with top marks, obviously. you know how he is. he doesn't cry over dirt. and yeah, he's bigger. the academy makes them do a lot of physical training. he looks like a proper pilot now.”
you listened to every word, your head tilting slightly, your eyes fixed on the back of gideon's head. you were listening so attentively it almost hurt, your ears straining for something specific. a name, maybe. a habit. a detail that sounded wrong, or a hint of a girl, or a sign that he had completely outgrown the small-town girl who used to share his umbrella. you were waiting for a phrase that would confirm your deepest, unvoiced fear: that he had left you behind in the dust of the province.
but that piece of information didn't arrive. gideon just kept talking about credit hours, physical exams, and flight logistics.
“anyway,” gideon clears his throat, switching gears as he turned onto the long stretch of road leading to the junction. “enough about the golden boy. how's state uni treating you? your granny said you joined some theater production crew last month. you making friends?”
the spark in your chest caught a sudden, damp chill. your posture slumped just a fraction, the manic energy leaving your shoulders as quickly as it had arrived. the topic was no longer caleb.
“oh. yeah. it's fine,” you murmured, your voice dropping an octave. “the theater stuff was just for a midterm project. it's over now. and friends... yeah, they're okay. we go to the diner near the campus sometimes.” it sounded dull. it sounded incredibly small compared to aerospace academies and survival training and flying through clouds.
sensing your sudden shift in mood but choosing not to press it, gideon just hummed, turning up the radio slightly.
you leaned back against the seat, suddenly feeling the distance between your body and the front of the car. with a slow movement, you pressed the button on the door panel, letting the window roll down all the way.
you were going to see him in less than fifteen minutes. and for the first time in your life, you were terrified of what his smile might look like now.
with a restless groan, you shifted your weight, sliding down the leather until you were lying flat across the length of the backseat. you lifted your legs, balancing your heels against the rim of the lowered window frame, letting the rushing wind blow right over your bare toes. the bright summer sunlight hit your face in a sudden wash, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut as the shadows of roadside acacia trees flickered across your eyelids like a film strip.
gideon glanced back through the rearview mirror, his eyes crinkling at the corners as a quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. “what exactly is the strategy here? are we airing out your feet, or are you trying to slide out of the car entirely?”
“shh,” you muttered, not opening your eyes, just waving a hand dismissively in his general direction. “don't ruin the vibe, gideon. i'm getting into character. when we get there, i'm going to pretend to be asleep.”
“and why, pray tell, are we faking a coma?”
“because,” you mumbled, your voice dropping into a stubborn drone. “he's been gone for four years acting all professional and pilot-like. i'm not giving him the satisfaction of seeing me standing at the curb like an eager puppy. if i'm asleep, he has to wait for me to wake up.”
gideon let out an amused snort but didn't argue further, slowing the vehicle down as he navigated the chaotic entrance of the terminal. the air became a noisy symphony of sputtering engines, the loud barking of barkers calling out destinations, and the heavy hiss of bus brakes.
then, the car came to a full stop. the engine remained idling, its low vibration humming right through your spine as you lay flat on the seat.
you heard the tinny ring of gideon’s phone bridging the gap over the dashboard, followed by the click of the answer button. gideon didn't even put it to his ear; he just left it on speaker, the sound cutting through the air-conditioned cabin.
“yeah? where are you? i'm near the main exit, by the yellow bakery,”
”oop, i see the car,” a voice replied.
that was caleb!
your breath hitched, catching sharply in your throat. it was him. it was caleb. even through the cheap, compressed audio of a phone speaker, there was no mistaking that specific cadence—that easy, slightly raspy, slow-rolling tone that always sounded like he was hiding a joke behind his teeth. it was exactly the same.
“alright, hurry up. the traffic enforcer is already looking at me sideways,” gideon said, hanging up.
panic, sudden and entirely irrational, flared up under your ribs. you scrambled to pull your legs down from the window, tucking your knees slightly toward your chest, and threw your right arm over your eyes, effectively blocking out the blinding glare of the sun and the view of the front seats. you squeezed your eyelids shut until you saw spots, forcing your breathing to slow down.
just act natural. you're asleep. you've been sleeping the whole ride.
the crunch of boots on gravel outside the car door was your only warning. and then, the front passenger door clicked and swung open. “hey!”
your heart nearly leaped right out of your chest. the sheer force of it hammered against your ribs so violently you were terrified he would actually hear it over the sound of everything else. you closed your eyes even tighter, your arm pressing down hard against your brow line.
“man, you look like you survived a war,” gideon’s voice boomed, followed by the rustle of clothing as the two of them exchanged a brief half-hug across the console.
“more like two years of institutionalized sleep deprivation,” caleb replied, his voice much louder now, much closer, vibrating from the seat right in front of your head. the car door slammed shut with a heavy thud, sealing the three of you inside the quiet space.
there was a brief rustle of a duffel bag being shoved into the footwell, and then a sudden pause. you could feel the exact moment his attention shifted.
”is... she dead?” caleb asked, his tone dropping into that familiar, amused lilt.
“passed out about ten minutes ago,” gideon lied without a single hitch in his voice. god, you owed him a premium coffee for this. “she was buzzing around the house since five in the morning, then collapsed the second we hit the highway.”
a loaded silence descended upon the car as gideon shifted into drive and pulled away from the curb. you lay frozen, every muscle in your body stiff with the effort of remaining limp. you could feel caleb’s weight shifting in the front seat, the leather creaking slightly as he turned his upper body around to look back at you.
even with your arm covering your face, you could feel the weight of his stare burning through the fabric of your sleeve.
then, a low huff of a laugh escaped him.
“silly girl,” caleb murmured, the word dripping with an irritatingly affectionate playfulness. “still a sleepyhead. some things really don't change, do they?”
gideon steered the car back onto the main road, the smooth roll of the tires replacing the chaotic noise of the terminal. “i don't know about that. she’s grown up quite a bit while you were gone, caleb. she’s not the little girl who used to cry when you stole her slippers anymore. she's at state uni now. got her own thing going on.”
there was another pause, a tiny stretch of time where the only sound was the hum of the engine.
“yeah,” caleb said, his voice shifting into a tone that was harder to read, more contemplative. “i can see that. she looks different.”
“don't let the height fool you, though,” gideon chuckled, glancing at the rearview mirror. “she’s still a menace. but yeah, you probably can't carry her around with one arm like you used to.”
“please, i can absolutely still carry her with one arm.” a fleshy slap echoed through the front seat—the sound of caleb smacking his own bicep or forearm or whatever to prove a point. “these muscles aren't just for show, gid. i could lift her and her bags without breaking a sweat.”
god, the urge to open your eyes was so overwhelming it was almost a physical ache in your chest. you wanted to throw your arm off your face, look at him, and tell him to shut his stupid mouth just like old times. you wanted to see exactly how broad his shoulders had gotten, wanted to see if his hair was still cut short and neat, wanted to see if that annoying, arrogant little smirk was plastered across his face. but the weight of your own realization—the sudden consciousness of him not just as caleb, but as a man who could effortlessly lift you—kept you completely pinned to the leather.
“whatever you say, pilot boy.” gideon laughed, shaking his head as he accelerated down the open road.
the comfortable rhythm of their conversation was broken by the sharp click of gideon’s turn signal. the car slowed down, veering off the main highway and pulling up.
“alright, cay, this is me,” gideon unbuckles his seatbelt with a crisp click. “i need to drop by this studio for that project archive i told you about. you take the wheel from here. just park the car back at granny's house when you guys get back.”
“yeah, sure. no problem,”
wait, what?
gideon was leaving?
panic flared up again as you stayed perfectly still, listening intently to the rustle of clothes, the sound of gideon opening the passenger door, and the heavy thud of his boots hitting the gravel outside. there was a brief exchange of instructions—gideon reminding caleb about a loose wire near the stereo dashboard—and then the driver’s side door opened. the car dipped slightly under a new weight as caleb slid effortlessly into the driver's seat.
the door slammed shut. the heavy, reassuring presence of gideon was gone, replaced entirely by caleb’s proximity.
he adjusted the seat, sliding it back a few inches to accommodate his longer legs. then, the car smoothly pulled back onto the road. and god, the silence that followed was deafening. without gideon’s easygoing banter filling the cabin, the only sound was the low hum of the engine and the rush of the wind through your open window.
should you open your eyes now? if you wake up now, it'll look natural. just a casual yawn, and—
a subtle tug pulled at the crown of your head.
it wasn't painful. it was incredibly light. you felt a hand reaching over the center console, two fingers winding carefully around a single stray strand of your hair, giving it a teasing little pull.
your eyes flew open.
through the gap between the front seats, you finally saw him—caleb driving effortlessly with his right hand on the steering wheel, his left hand extended backward over the armrest with his thumb and index finger still lightly holding the end of your hair. he didn't even look back at you; his eyes remained fixed on the road ahead.
but his eyes flicked upward, locking onto yours through the rearview mirror.
the corners of his eyes crinkled instantly, breaking into that utterly familiar expression. that lazy, arrogant, beautiful smile spread across his lips.
“got a good sleep, pips? your gege's back now.”
the nickname—the one he used to demand you call him when you were kids just to annoy you—should have earned him an immediate eye-roll or a sharp kick to the back of his seat. but you couldn't even bring yourself to reply. your tongue felt thick, glued to the roof of your mouth.
you just stared, agape, taking him in for the first time in four whole years.
he looked like a man.
caleb's eyes flicked up to the mirror again, catching the exact moment your gaze drifted from his face down to his shoulders, and then back up. your wide-eyed, breathless silence was loud. too loud.
for a split second, the easy smirk on caleb’s face faltered. his prominent adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, a sudden patch of color rising along his neck. he cleared his throat, a slightly tense sound, and quickly looked back at the road, his fingers letting go of your hair as he pulled his hand back to the steering wheel.
“what's with the face?” he asked, trying hard to force that casual lilt back into his tone. “you look like you've seen a ghost.”
you quickly sat up, pulling your legs inward and smoothing down your shirt, desperately trying to find your footing. “you look different, that's all. the academy must be starving you if you've gone all that just to survive.”
“starving? please. they feed us like racehorses,” caleb scoffed, though the response felt a little rehearsed, a little too quick as he kept his eyes glued strictly on the asphalt ahead. “but thanks for noticing. glad to know my hard work isn't lost on a provincial girl like you.”
you leaned your cheek against your hand, looking out the side window to hide the heat rushing into your own face.
somehow, the conversation didn't go the way you had scripted it in your head over the last four years. you hadn't greeted each other like two people who had spent their entire lives attached at the hip, starved for each other's presence. there were no desperate questions, no breathy laughter, no clumsy, overwhelming hugs that left you smelling like his cologne.
instead, you were simply staring out the side window, watching the green expanse of the provincial rice fields blur into a smear of dusty emerald, and then he was simply driving.
“so, state u,” caleb started, “gran says you're keeping busy. how's the actual college life treating you?”
“it's fine,” you replied, your voice matching his even tone. you kept your eyes fixed on a passing billboard outside. “it's a lot of reading, but my blockmates are nice. i usually hang out with maya and javi after our afternoon lectures. we found this cheap diner near the campus that serves really good sizzling meat.”
“maya and javi,” caleb repeated, testing the names on his tongue as if trying to fit them into the map of your life. he nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the road. “that's good. it's good that you found your crowd.”
“mm. javi's in the theater crew too, so we usually walk home together when rehearsals run late.” you added, offering the detail up like a shield.
why did it end up like this? why did the air between you feel so thick, so cautious, as if a single wrong word would shatter a boundary neither of you had openly acknowledged yet?
“what about you?” you asked, trying to sound completely nonchalant, keeping your gaze trained on the side mirror. “must be nice up at the academy. you probably have a whole new circle of pilot friends.”
“yeah. the guys in my barracks are solid. we complain about the flight instructors together. it keeps us sane.”
and then, that's where it happened.
“any... girls?” the word slipped out of your mouth a little too smoothly, a little too practiced. “i mean, the uniform probably does half the work for you up there.”
the car went starkly silent.
caleb didn't answer right away. he shifted his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening just a fraction before he relaxed them. it took a long drawn-out pause for him to reply.
finally, a gentle smile spread across his face—but it wasn't his usual mischievous smirk.
“yeah,” caleb said quietly, his eyes softening as he looked out at the highway ahead. “actually, there is. i've got a pretty massive crush on someone from the nursing college nearby. i'm planning on courting her this coming semester.”
oh. okay.
you didn't say anything for a moment, letting the sound of his confession hang in the air between you like heavy smoke.
”that's nice. good luck with that.”
wanting nothing more than to disappear into the upholstery, you leaned further back against the leather of the seat. and you lifted your legs again, resting your ankles on the open window frame just like you had earlier. you stared straight into the blinding, white-hot summer sunlight, letting the glare sting your eyes until they watered, using the heat as an excuse for the burning sensation behind your eyelids.
college really is horrible. it really does change everything and everyone, doesn't it? it takes the boy who used to swear he'd never care about anyone more than you, sends him away for four years, and brings back a stranger who belongs to someone else.
you watched the provincial scenery go into a blurring motion as caleb pressed down on the accelerator, speed being his only response to the quiet.
suddenly, caleb cleared his throat, a nervous cough breaking the quiet. “what about you, pips? you mentioned that javi guy. do you... have a boyfriend now?”
you blinked, your eyes still stinging from the sunlight. you didn't even have to think about it. “no.”
within minutes, caleb steered the car smoothly up the gravel driveway of granny's home, pulling up right under the shade of the large mango tree. the engine died with a final, shuddering purr, leaving only the loud clicking of the cicadas in the backyard to fill the space.
you kept your ankles resting on the window frame, your eyes closed against the light.
then, you heard the rustle of caleb's heavy duffel bag being pulled from the footwell, and the solid thud of his boots hitting the gravel. but instead of walking straight to the house, the sound of his footsteps looped around to your side of the car.
a shadow suddenly fell over your face, blocking out the harsh heat of the sun.
you opened your eyes a fraction, only to see that caleb was leaning his arms against the window frame, his broad shoulders completely framing the opening. he looked down at you, a golden-boy smile playing on his lips.
“we're here, sleepyhead,” his voice still carried that warmth that used to make you feel so safe, but now it just felt like salt on an open wound. “aren't you coming out? granny’s probably already waiting at the door.”
you quickly averted your gaze, looking past his shoulder at the porch of the house, avoiding his eyes entirely.
“you go ahead.”
—
the heavy heat of mid-afternoon had dissolved by the time your eyes fluttered open, replaced by the long-shadowed stillness of late gold.
you groaned, a sharp ache radiating through your lower back and neck from the impossibly cramped angle you’d been knotted into across the backseat. four hours. you had actually managed to pass out for four hours in the belly of a dead car.
you pushed the heavy car door open, your thin slippers slapping against the gravel as you stepped out into the humid yard. stretching your arms over your head until your joints popped, you shook out your numb legs, half-hopping, half-limping your way up the porch steps and pulling the screen door open with a lazy rattle.
the house was strangely quiet.
“granny?” you called out, your voice still thick and raspy from sleep. no answer. you tilted your head, wandering past the dark living room where the old wooden rocking chair sat still, and followed a faint metallic clinking toward the kitchen.
when you stepped over the threshold, the words caught squarely in your throat.
caleb, completely shirtless, bent over the kitchen sink with his back turned to you. a chaotic battlefield of rusty wrenches, tattered rags, and rolls of teflon tape were scattered all over the tiled countertop beside him. he was clearly deep-cleaning the drain and trying to muscle a stubborn leaking pipe back into place, his skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat that caught the amber sunset filtering through the small window.
from this angle, the reality of how much he had changed hit you like a physical blow. but it was when he leaned further down into the cabinet under the sink that your eyes inevitably landed on the silver chain hanging from his neck, the metal dogtag swinging loosely against his collarbone.
you swallowed hard, forcing your gaze upward, and cleared your throat loudly to break the spell. “where's granny?”
the sudden interruption made caleb flinch violently, his entire torso jerking upward in surprise as the back of his head collided with the edge of the upper cabinet.
“ouch!”
”clumsy idiot.” you muttered.
caleb slowly turned around, still wincing, and looked up at you from his crouched position. you caught the distinct, deliberate way his gaze traveled down your frame—taking in your post-nap hair, your dumb shirt, and your bare legs—before flicking back up to settle on your face. the intensity of it lasted only a fraction of a second before his easy golden-boy mask slid right back into place.
“granny went down the road,” he casually leaned his hip against the counter, completely unbothered by his lack of a shirt. “visited mrs. alvarez or someone. said she’d be back before dinner.”
trying to appear completely casual, you walked past him, keeping a careful radius of distance between your shoulder and his bare chest, and opened the refrigerator door. the cool air hit your face as you grabbed the heavy glass pitcher of water.
“look who finally decided to join the land of the living,” caleb watched you pull a glass from the cupboard. “four hours, pipsqueak? i was about to check if you still had a pulse. you sleep like a log.”
you poured the water, keeping your back to him as you scoffed. “i had to make up for the four years of peace and quiet i'm about to lose now that you're back to annoy me.”
behind you, caleb let out a bright, boyish laugh—the kind of chesty sound that filled the entire room and made him look exactly like the sixteen-year-old boy you grew up with.
“yeah, yeah, keep talking...” chuckling, he wipes his sweaty brow with the back of his forearm. he leaned closer to the table, his eyes shining with a sudden eager spark. “hey, are you free tomorrow? they opened that new amusement park by the bypass road while i was gone. i was thinking we could go. just the two of us, like old times.”
you raised the glass to your lips, using the movement to buy yourself time as his words settled heavily in your stomach. like old times. but it wouldn't be like old times. not with him looking like this, and certainly not with a nursing student waiting for him up north.
you set the glass down on the counter with a soft click, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before looking at him. “can't tomorrow. i already have somewhere to go with a friend.”
“a friend?” his brow furrowed, a deep line cutting between his eyes as he stared at you. “since when did you choose a friend over me?”
the confusion on his face was almost comical, because it was a look you knew intimately—the look caleb gave whenever the universe didn't bend to his precise specifications. it was intensely ironic, a hypocritical double standard that made you want to scream. he could go off to the city, rebuild his entire life, and find a nursing student to court, but the second you had a life outside of this gravel driveway, the rules suddenly changed?
“just a friend from state u.” you said airily, turning on your heel and walking out of the kitchen. “you're not the only one who got a change of scenery, caleb. i’m all grown up now. i actually have a life and people outside of this house.”
you hear the heavy, silent thud of his bare feet following you, the sheer mass of him trailing you into the small living room like a shadow you couldn't shake. you threw yourself onto the worn-out fabric of the sofa, grabbing the dusty remote control to click the television on.
instead of sitting down on the opposite armchair, caleb came to a halt right at the edge of the sofa, looming over you. he crossed his arms over his bare chest, his shadow completely blocking out the remaining amber light of the sunlight.
“i'm serious,” he muttered, carrying that infuriatingly paternal tone he used whenever he wanted to control a situation. “don't go hanging out with people alone just that easily. you're too trusting. the city might be a mess, but the town isn't exactly a sanctuary either. shit is unpredictable, and people have motives.”
you let out an incredulous laugh, snapping your head up to look at him.
“you should know that if you’re a grown up as you claim to be.“ caleb added.
you raised a single eyebrow, your lips curling into a mocking smile. “what are you implying, then? that you still need to protect me? that i can't handle a simple afternoon coffee without my big, strong gege holding my hand?”
caleb’s eyes narrowed, a dark glint flickering in his irises. “should i not? just because we were apart for a couple of years doesn't mean you get to be careless. you've always been too stubborn for your own good.”
“yeah, well, you should not.” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you turned your attention back to the television screen, where a loud game show was playing to an empty audience. “i'm [age] years old, caleb. i am quite literally not a kid anymore. so stop acting like a hypocrite when you're the one who—”
“let’s test that theory.”
before the breath could even leave your lungs, the cushion beside you sank violently. caleb lunged forward with a terrifying fluidity that you had never seen from him before. your brain didn't even have time to process the movement before the heavy, solid weight of his knees dug brutally into the foam of the sofa, effectively pinning the fabric down on either side of your hips.
in a fraction of a second, you were completely trapped. he had closed the distance so aggressively that you were locked between his thighs, his massive shirtless chest looming inches from your face.
“wait—what the hell!” you gasped, your hands flying up in a knee-jerk reaction to push him back, but caleb's hands shot forward, his fingers wrapping around your wrists with an unyielding grip. he didn't squeeze enough to hurt, but the absolute finality of his hold made it clear you weren't going anywhere. a slow incredibly wicked smirk spread across his lips then.
“see?” caleb murmured, leaning down just an inch closer, his hot breath fanning across your cheeks, smelling faintly of the mint gum he'd been chewing. “you couldn't even move before i did this. you can't even defend yourself, you silly girl. that means you still need me to protect you.”
up close, the heat radiating off his bare skin was intoxicating, a musky warmth that seemed to fill your entire throat. you could see the tiny pulse point fluttering at the base of his neck, right above where his silver dogtags hung, dangling loosely and brushing against your collarbone.
“you're a cheater,” you hissed. “this is a cheap shot!”
“it's a reality check,” his grip on your wrists tightened just a fraction, a wordless challenge. “tell you what. if you manage to dislodge me—if you can actually get out from under me right now—then i'll let myself believe that you aren't a kid anymore. i'll let you go on your little date tomorrow without a single word.”
“it's not a date!” you yelled, the denial tearing out of you with a sudden heat. alright, if a game of strength was what he wanted to play to prove his stupid, masculine dominance, you were going to give it to him. you knew caleb. you knew how he moved, or at least, you thought you did.
”and fine. if that's what you want, you're going to get it.”
with a swift movement, you bucked your hips upward, twisting your wrists sharply against the grain of his thumbs—a self-defense trick he had ironically taught you himself when you were fifteen. the sudden, biting leverage worked; caleb's grip slipped, his hands sliding off your skin with a faint gasp of surprise.
“ha!” you celebrated, a triumphant grin breaking across your face as you immediately reached up, your palms slamming against his broad bare shoulders to shove him off the couch.
but you had vastly underestimated your gege.
before your arms could fully extend to deliver the push, caleb utilized your own momentum against you. leaning his entire weight forward, his chest slammed into yours, knocking the wind right out of your lungs as he drove your back deep into the cushions. in the same breath, his hands caught your forearms mid-air, pinning them flat against the back of the sofa.
a loud, frustrated groan escaped your throat as your knuckles hit the fabric.
“you're cheating!” you wheezed, your legs twisting beneath his thighs, trying to find some purchase, some leverage to kick him off, but his lower body was like an anchor. “caleb, let go! in a game like this, you obviously have the advantage, you giant idiot!”
“i told you,” caleb chuckled, his chest vibrating directly against yours. the sensation of his hard pectoral muscles pressing into your softness was a sudden jolt that made your entire body go completely rigid. “those flight drills aren't just for show. you're slow, pips. you're losing your touch.”
“i am not slow!” you argued as you thrashed beneath him. you tried to wrench your left arm free, but caleb simply slid his fingers down to lace tightly through yours, pinning your hand flat against the sofa pillow.
every time you writhed to escape him, your bodies rubbed together in a way that made your skin feel like it was on fire. the friction of his denim jeans against your bare legs, the heavy slide of his chest against yours, the tight, hot grip of his fingers tangled in yours—it was completely overwhelming. caleb had stopped laughing. his breath was coming in shorter, heavier gasps now, his chest rising and falling in a ragged rhythm that mirrored your own frantic respiration.
“let... me... go,” you panted, but he stayed hovering over you, his broad shoulders completely blocking out the rest of the living room, effectively reducing your entire universe to just him. his gaze dragged slowly down from your eyes, lingering on your parted lips, before rising back up to look into your pupils with a hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with a childhood bond.
“make me.”
his hips shifted just a fraction, a subtle pressure against yours that made your heart completely halt in your chest. “tell me you don't need me anymore. say it like you mean it, and maybe i'll think about letting you up.”
if you couldn't get him off of you with pure physical force, then you might as well use your words. you needed a distraction, something so inherently mundane and unsexy.
you swallowed hard.
“caleb,” you muttered, your voice hesitant. “i... i need to pee.”
caleb blinked.
for a second, he just stared at you, his chest still rising and falling raggedly against yours. then, slowly, he began to relax the iron grip on your wrists, gently pushing his torso back to give you some breathing room.
is it working? a tiny sigh of relief bubbled in your chest. that worked, didn't it?
“hold it in.”
your eyes widened instantly. the sigh of relief died in your throat. what the fuck?!
you gasped inaudibly, your body going completely rigid all over again. instead of getting off the couch like a normal person, caleb simply shifted his weight above you. he let go of your hands entirely, but he just slid his knees slightly to the side, repositioning himself so he was hovering over you at a slight angle.
”do you remember when we were younger? whenever you felt like peeing, what did i make you do?”
your face burned a furious, hot crimson. you knew exactly what he was talking about. back when you were a pre-teen, you had a lot of difficulty with that—a stubborn, painful urinary retention issue that made you miserable during long car rides or summer afternoons. caleb, being the overprotective problem-solving idiot he was, had researched it in some random medical forum and forced a habit on you: he made you press firmly on your lower abdomen, right above the bladder, hold it tightly for ten seconds to stimulate the muscles, and then rush to the bathroom to let it out. it always worked.
but that was when you were kids.
doing that right now, with a shirtless muscular caleb hovering right between your thighs, felt entirely indecent. the innocent childhood routine had suddenly been warped into something thick with a strange intimacy...
“what the fuck?” you cussed under your breath, your voice shaking as you glared at him. “let me up, caleb. i'm serious.”
caleb didn't react to the swearing. his expression remained entirely unbothered, his jaw ticking slightly as he stared down at your flushed face. he was completely serious.
“hold it in,” he repeated. “then press on it with your hand for ten seconds.” he paused, his eyes narrowing as he scanned your face. “unless... you don't have difficulty with it anymore? you can just do it without the routine now?”
to be honest, you still had that exact same problem. the childhood difficulty hadn't magically disappeared, and the trick caleb had drilled into you was a literal physical habit you had been doing ever since. it was a secret piece of your daily life that still belonged to him, even after four years apart.
but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. you remained completely speechless, your lips parted.
caleb studied your silence for a beat longer, the corner of his mouth twitching with a shadow of that knowing smirk.
“nevermind.”
he suddenly slid his legs off the sofa and stood back up to his full height. the sudden rush of cool air where his body had just been made you feel instantly cold, exposed. caleb reached down, casually ruffling your messy hair with a quick hand, before turning on his heel.
“i should go back to fixing the sink back there before granny gets home,” he walked beyond the living room threshold, his bare feet padding softly against the wood. “go pee, pips,” he called out over his shoulder before his voice faded into the kitchen.
now you were left lying there on the cushions, entirely silent.
—
the next morning brought no relief from the heat; if anything, the humidity had thickened overnight, settling over the house like a damp woolen blanket by eight o’clock. you woke up with your skin already tacky, your hair plastered to the nape of your neck, and your mind instantly pivoting to the afternoon ahead. today was the day you were supposed to meet your friend from state u at the town plaza, and the mere thought of sitting in a crowded bus while looking unwashed was enough to make you drag your feet out of bed with a sense of urgency.
grabbing your clean clothes and a towel, you padded barefoot into the indoor bathroom, ready to submerge yourself in the shock of cold water. you twisted the plastic knob of the shower faucet.
nothing.
not even a rusty trickle.
you frowned, turning it all the way until the plastic creaked, but the pipes only answered with a mocking hiss.
ugh, caleb.
he had been elbow-deep in the plumbing just yesterday evening, claiming he was deep-cleaning and repairing the lines, and now the entire bathroom was bone-dry. he had probably shut off the main valve or misaligned the pressure tubes with his supposed logistical training.
with a frustrated huff, you realized your choices were entirely limited. you couldn't wait for granny to get back from the market to fix it, and you certainly weren't going to knock on caleb’s bedroom door to ask him for a favor after the suffocating display on the living room sofa.
there was only one alternative.
you shed your clothes and reached for a thin cotton sarong with a batik pattern that had grown incredibly soft from years of granny running it through the wash. you wrapped the fabric tight around your chest, tucking the edge securely over your breasts, and gathered your shampoo, soap, and a plastic basin.
if the modern plumbing was compromised, you’d have to do it the old-fashioned way.
the backyard was a secluded narrow strip of land shielded from the neighbors by a dense, unruly wall of trees and overgrown leaves. tucked into the furthest corner, sitting on a moss-slick concrete slab, was the old manual pump-well. the heavy iron looked ancient, its dark blue paint peeling away to reveal patches of orange rust, a relic from your childhood that hadn't been fully utilized since granny got the indoor electric pump installed years ago.
you set your basin down on the concrete and approached the pump, wrapping your fingers around the long iron handle.
you pushed down, and the lever didn't even budge.
“hnggggh!” you tried again, putting your entire weight into it, your slippers sliding slightly on the mossy concrete as you forced the iron arm upward to prime the cylinder. a screeching groan echoed from the metal throat of the pump, a sound so loud it felt like it was tearing through the quiet morning. your breath caught, your chest heaving against the tight tuck of the sarong as you pumped frantically, trying to coax the groundwater up through the dry valves. a bead of sweat rolled down from your temple, tracing a hot line down your neck as you struggled, your face flushing with a mix of physical exertion and mounting frustration.
“you're going to break your back doing it like that.”
your hands froze on the lever as you whipped your head around, your heart doing a sudden flip against your ribs that had absolutely nothing to do with the heavy lifting.
woah.
caleb looked like he had just walked straight out of a sports commercial—wearing a gray athletic tank top that clung to the damp contours of his chest and black gym shorts that showed off the lean, powerful definition of his thighs. his skin was flushed a warm pink, covered in a fine glistening sheen of sweat with a white towel slung carelessly around his neck.
he took a slow step into your space, his eyes tracking the frantic rise and fall of your chest beneath the thin cotton fabric of the sarong. his gaze flicked from your flushed cheeks, down to your strained shoulders, and finally settled on the rusted handle of the pump-well.
“just got back from a five-kilometer loop around the bypass road,” he tilted his head, a small smirk beginning to tug at the corner of his lips as he took in your disheveled state. “and i come back to find my pipsqueak fighting a piece of old iron. let me guess—the bathroom pipes aren't cooperating?”
“yeah, because of you.”
you pointed an accusing finger at his chest. “you were the one messing with the plumbing yesterday, caleb. i don't know what kind of aerospace engineering logic you applied to granny’s bathroom, but it's completely dry. so yes, the pipes aren't cooperating because you broke them.”
caleb didn't even have the decency to look guilty.
he just stood there, the corner of his mouth twitching upward into an intensely sarcastic smile that made you want to kick his shins. he listened to your scolding with an amused quiet indulgence, like he was watching a small kitten hiss at him through a window.
how annoying.
he didn't even offer an excuse. instead, he took a sudden step forward into your space. “calm down, let me help you.”
instinctively, your heels slid back against the mossy concrete, your arms crossing tightly over the knot of your sarong to keep it secure against your chest. but caleb wasn't looking at you—not yet. his eyes were on the rusted blue lever. he brushed past you, his sun-warmed shoulder cutting through your personal bubble, and wrapped his large hand around the iron handle right where yours had been just seconds ago.
and within two pumps, a thick gushing stream of crystal-clear groundwater burst from the spout, splashing loudly into the plastic basin below.
it was going alright now, thankfully.
you stood a step back, your tongue tucked behind your teeth as you tried to look anywhere but at him. but you couldn't help it. your eyes inevitably traced the flexion of his bicep every time he pulled the lever.
and then—splat!
caleb pushed the lever down too fast, and a full burst of water caught the edge of the basin, ricocheting straight up and hitting you square in the face.
“hey!” the freezing groundwater immediately drenched your forehead, eyelashes, and cheeks, running down the front of your neck and soaking the top line of your cotton sarong.
caleb froze instantly. the sarcastic smirk vanished from his face, replaced by a sudden wide-eyed look of genuine panic. “oh—oops, i'm sorry,” he frantically dropped the iron handle and reached out with both hands, his white gym towel already bunching in his fingers. “i didn't mean to torque it that hard. are you okay? did it get in your nose?”
as a payback, you didn't even give him the chance to wipe your face. before he could step closer with the towel, you lunged downward, scooping a palmful of the freezing water straight out of the filled basin and throwing it upward with a vindictive flick of your wrist.
splat!
the water slapped caleb right across the jaw and eyes, head snapping back in surprise before he shook it aggressively from side to side—exactly like a wet golden retriever trying to shake off a bath—sending a spray of droplets flying from the wet strands of his hair.
he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, a boyish grin breaking through his wet features.
“serves you right.”
“alright, fair enough,” he chuckled, his voice dropping back into that rumbling cadence as he looked down at you.
then, his eyes flicked past your shoulder, landing on the small plastic tray sitting on the concrete slab—the bottle of shampoo, the bar of soap, and the clean towel you had neatly laid out.
“so,” caleb leaned one hand against the cool iron body of the pump, his gaze tracking a slow line from the soap back up to your wet face. “are you getting all washed up and pretty for that day out with your friend?”
you lifted your chin, “yup, i am.”
caleb’s grin hardened, freezing into a rigid imitation of a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
the silence of the backyard rushed back in, thick and suffocating, punctuated only by the rhythmic drip... drip... drip of the water from the spout into the overflowing basin.
“right,” his eyes tracked a slow path down to the wet fabric of your sarong. the thin cotton had absorbed the splash, turning translucent where it clung tightly to the curve of your chest and the dip of your waist. “the friend from state u. the one you walk home with?”
“javi,” you reached up, squeezing the excess water out of your hair strands, letting the drops splash onto the concrete between your feet. “we're going to the plaza. he wants to check out this old second-hand bookstore, and then we're getting dinner.”
“dinner?” caleb repeated, the word sounding flat, heavy, like a stone dropped into mud. “sounds like a lot of effort for a casual classmate.”
“he's not just a classmate, caleb. he's my best friend at university,” you stepped forward, intending to pick up your shampoo bottle, but caleb didn't move an inch. his broad shoulder remained firmly in your line of sight. “now, if you're done breaking things and splashing me, can you continue pumping the water so i can actually wash my hair? i'm going to be late.”
caleb looked at you for a long unreadable beat. then, a familiar smirk began to pull at the corner of his lips—but it was different this time. it was the calculating version of his smile, the one he wore right before he flipped a chessboard.
“sure, anything for my pipsqueak.”
he reached down, wrapping his fingers around the iron handle again, and began to pump. but he didn't do it quickly. he did it with a slow, agonizingly steady rhythm.
“you know, it's just a bit funny. four years away, and the first thing you do when i get back is run off to the city with some guy i’ve never met. makes a guy feel a little replaced.”
“you weren't replaced,” you muttered, leaning over the basin to scoop up some water to wet your hair, the movement causing your sarong to stretch tight across your back. “you left. there's a difference. you went to the academy, you got your own life, your own barracks... your own nursing student.”
the words slipped out before you could stop them, bitter and sharp.
“what did you say?”
“i said you have your own life,” you repeated stubbornly, forcing yourself to straighten up and look him in the eye. “so don't act like i'm the one breaking rules here. go save your overprotective routine for the girl from the nursing college. she's... the one you're planning to court, right?”
the iron handle came to a sudden dead stop.
the water ceased its gushing, reducing to a trickling stream that dripped lazily into the basin.
instead of shooting back with a witty remark, caleb simply averted his gaze. his long eyelashes fluttered as he blinked rapidly, his eyes tracking a random crack on the wet concrete slab. for the first time since he stepped out of that terminal, he looked... guilty.
almost... shameful?
“what, lost your tongue?” you straightened up from the basin, squeezing the wet fabric of your sarong tighter over your chest.
“you stand here lecturing me about hanging out with a friend, acting like you’re still my overprotective—ugh, i don't even know, when you’re literally planning to bring a new girl home next semester.” you purse your lips together, but it's too late to stop now. “you're such a hypocrite, caleb. go save your little 'hold it in' routines and your grand muscle displays for your precious nursing student. see if she actually tolerates your stupid, suffocating mind games, because frankly, i am so sick of hearing about how much you're moving on while i'm just supposed to sit here and—”
you cut yourself off, the words freezing in your throat. your heart did a violent terrifying drop into your stomach.
fuck.
you had just said entirely too much. the stinging venom in your voice hadn't sounded like a childhood best friend being annoyed; it had sounded like a deeply bitter jealous girl who was bleeding all over the concrete.
caleb's head snapped back up. the guilt in his eyes vanished, replaced by a sudden wide-eyed look of absolute shock. he swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing sharply as he stared at your face.
“there... is no nursing student,”
you paused. “huh?”
“i-i made her up,” caleb admitted.
”i invented her the exact second i got into the car yesterday. because you were looking at me like i was just a distant cousin.” he takes a deep breath, eyes wandering away while he furrowed his eyebrows. “you were so casual, so polite, talking about your university and your blockmates like my four years away didn't even matter to you. i got... i got terrified. i thought you completely outgrew me.”
and then, his eyes went back to yours. ”i've never even had the thought to get a girlfriend. i haven't looked at another girl that way since the day i left this hometown.”
you stood frozen in utter surprise, your mind completely blanking out. what the hell? your hands numbed against the cotton of your sarong, your mouth opening slightly but no sound coming out. how were you even supposed to react to that? the chess piece you thought he was playing to move on from you was nothing but a sick desperate lie to get a reaction out of you...
caleb let out a ragged sigh, a bitter self-deprecating chuckle rumbled deep in his bare chest. he looked down at his own wet gym shoes, shaking his head. “i'm such an idiot. i spent four actual years up at that academy staring at flight panels, thinking about nothing else other than coming back home to this house, to you... and just holding you in my arms all over again. but gideon's right. college really did a number on us. you have your own world now.”
he looked you straight in the eye then, his irises dark, intense, and swimming with a vulnerability that completely stripped him bare. “and i just... i missed—”
he stopped himself mid-sentence.
his jaw tensed, eyelids blinking rapidly as a sudden crimson blush bloomed furiously across his cheeks and spread down to his neck. he bit his lower lip, tearing his gaze away from your face and looking out toward the dense wall of trees.
your heart was now hammering so violently against your ribs you were certain he could see it lifting the thin fabric of your sarong.
“i was scared too,” you whispered, breaking the quiet before you could lose your nerve.
caleb’s head snapped back toward you, his eyes wide.
and you clenched your own fists against your thighs, keeping your eyes trained firmly on the concrete between your feet, too shy to meet his gaze. “the only reason i was acting like that in the car... was because i thought you came back as a stranger. you got so big, and you looked so different, and then you started talking about that girl... and i just thought you didn't need me anymore.” you swallowed the lump in your throat.
”all this time, caleb... i missed you. so much.”
there it was, laid out in the open.
caleb’s eyes widened in absolute awe, his breath catching so loudly in his throat it sounded like a gasp. he could do nothing else but to stare down at you, his chest heaving silently beneath his gray tank top.
but then—shreek!
the metal screech of the front gates swinging open suddenly cut through the heavy quiet, the sharp sound making the both of you flinch and snap your heads toward the driveway at the exact same time.
that must be granny.
just like that, your confession was left hanging in the damp morning air, completely cut off as you both went inside the house with granny's slow footsteps shuffling into view. she was carrying two heavy plastic bags filled with mangoes and avocadoes from the early market, her small frame leaning slightly to the side from the weight.
“oh, you're both awake,” granny mumbled, her voice carrying its usual sleepy cadence.
without a word, caleb fell back into his dutiful grandson role, though his face was still flushed a light pink.
he stepped away from you, his large frame moving quickly to take the heavy bags from her hands. you swallowed the lump in your throat and followed him into the kitchen, desperately trying to smooth down the edges of your cotton sarong so you didn't look as completely disheveled as you felt.
the two of you stood by the kitchen counter, casually helping her arrange the fruits into the wicker basket. every time your fingers accidentally brushed against his while reaching for a mango, an awkward jolt went straight up your arm.
granny paused, placing a hand on her hip as she looked at you funnily. “why do you have a sarong on this early? and your hair is wet.”
“the bathroom pipes aren't working, granny,” you explained quickly, your voice a little too high. “i was trying to use the pump-well outside.”
“ah, that old thing,” granny sighed, shaking her head and failing to notice the suffocating tension between you and caleb. “caleb, i told you to fix that last night. look what you did to your sister.”
caleb didn't say anything, just let out a small hum, his throat bobbing as he placed the last avocado in the basket.
“well, i'm quite tired from the walk,” granny rubs her lower back as she turned toward the stairs. “i'm going to take a short nap. caleb, come upstairs for a bit and help me find my maintenance meds in the cabinet. my eyes are too blurry today.”
“yes, gran. i'll be right up,” caleb replied without a single second of hesitation.
he finally turned his head to look at you as granny started her slow climb up the wooden steps. his eyes were still heavy with everything you both had just admitted out by the well, but he couldn't stay. he gave you one unreadable look before turning on his heel, his broad back disappearing up the staircase behind her.
and then, you were just standing there alone in the quiet kitchen.
in a wet sarong. without a proper bath.
fuck's sake.
you let out a long breath, your shoulders slumping as the reality of the situation hit you. your skin felt sticky from the groundwater, your hair was damp and tangled, and you were supposed to meet javi at the plaza later. with the bathroom completely dry and caleb occupied upstairs, a real shower was out of the question now.
muttering a curse under your breath, you walked back to your room, peeling the damp translucent cotton off your skin. you were forced to just wipe yourself down with a dry towel and change back into your casual home clothes.
knock. knock.
“you in there?“
caleb’s voice bled through the thin wood of the door, the sudden wrap of knuckles against your bedroom making you jump half a foot in the air. you quickly smoothed down the front of your fresh t-shirt, took a shaky breath to steady the frantic drumming in your chest, and pulled the door open.
caleb had finally put on a new shirt—a slightly faded black tee that somehow made his broad shoulders look even more intimidating in the cramped hallway—but he was standing there completely awkwardly. his hands were shoved deep into his gym shorts pockets, his elbows jutting out slightly, and he was deliberately looking at a framed vintage cross-stitch on the wall instead of looking at you. a faint, lingering trace of that dark crimson blush was still dusting the tips of his ears.
“uh, yeah?“
caleb cleared his throat, his adam's apple bobbing before he finally shifted his gaze down to meet your eyes.
“granny... uh, gran told me to get the bathroom pipes sorted before she wakes up from her nap,” caleb muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “she said since i was the one who messed them up, i have to fix them right now. but i... i need an extra pair of hands to hold the wrench from the other side of the basin valve.”
he paused, his eyes searching yours with a quiet hesitant look.
“come help me, please?”
—
the bathroom felt smaller than it ever had before.
you stood right over him, bare feet pressed against the cool porcelain of the floorboards, holding a heavy roll of teflon tape and a pair of rusted pliers in your hands. caleb was sitting flat on the floor, his long legs bent awkwardly in the tight space between the toilet bowl and the lower basin cabinetry.
neither of you spoke.
every rustle of his clothing, every heavy breath he exhaled, and every metallic click of his wrench against the pipe joint sounded like a damn gunshot in the cramped room.
your thumb kept sliding over the screen of your phone, lighting up the lock screen to check the digital clock. it was getting closer to the afternoon.
caleb noticed. even though his head was tucked beneath the porcelain basin, his shoulders went completely rigid the third time your phone screen illuminated the dim corner of the room.
then, the scraping sound of the wrench died out. caleb remained perfectly still for a long beat, his forehead resting lightly against the cold underside of the sink as if he were gathering a desperate amount of courage. slowly, he pulled himself back, his broad shoulders clearing the cabinet door as he looked up at you.
“are you...” caleb's voice cracked slightly before he cleared his throat, forcing the gravelly pitch down. “are you still going to the city with your friend?” he reached for the valve handle, his long fingers wrapping around the plastic knob with a hesitation that was entirely uncharacteristic of him.
the question was asked way too softly, way too hesitantly. he sounded small.
you froze, the roll of teflon tape slipping a fraction of an inch between your fingers. the truth was, the second those words had left your mouth by the backyard well—the second you had admitted that you spent four years missing him in the quiet of your bedroom—you had already resolved to cancel the day out. you didn't want to go to the plaza. you didn't want to browse second-hand books or eat dinner across from javi while your skin was still burning from caleb's touch.
but as you looked down at caleb’s upturned face, at the raw vulnerable waiting in his eyes...
“yes, i'm still going.”
why did you say it? you didn't even know. maybe it was a reflex, a desperate attempt to rebuild the walls he had so easily torn down out by the well. maybe you were terrified of what would happen if you stayed here alone with him while granny slept outside.
caleb didn't flare up. he didn't snap or offer a sarcastic remark. he just let out a low quiet hum, nodding his head twice as his eyes dropped back down to the plastic valve.
his reaction wasn't what you expected, and it made the hollow ache in your chest widen into something unbearable. what was supposed to happen now? were you both really going to sit here in the bathroom and pretend like you hadn't just shattered the childhood boundary? were you going to act like you hadn't confessed to missing him until it hurt?
“pips,” caleb said, his tone entirely too polite while he reached his hand upward without looking. “hand me the pliers. and... crawl down here for a second. i need you to hold the main pipe line steady while i tighten this last bolt, or the pressure's going to crack the plastic again.”
“okay,” you murmured instantly, doing exactly as you were told. you dropped the teflon tape onto the lid of the toilet and crouched down beside him.
the space was incredibly cramped.
caleb's position lied flat on his back on the bathroom floor. his head and shoulders are pushed completely inside the dark open cabinet space beneath the sink basin so he can reach the pipes. and because his legs are so long, the lower half of his body is sticking out.
“alright, look,” caleb muttered, his voice echoing hollowly against the underside of the sink. he pointed a long finger at the heavy gray intake pipe. “when i start turning the wrench on this coupling bolt, the whole pipe is gonna want to twist with it. if it twists too much, it’ll snap the plastic threads inside the wall. i need you to take the pliers, clamp them onto the upper collar, and hold it perfectly still. think you can do that?”
and because you have to help him by holding a pipe that is also inside that dark cabinet, you'd have to lean your entire upper body over his chest while you crouched beside his hips and thighs.
“i'm not completely useless, caleb.” you whispered back.
“never said you were,” he murmured, his eyes flickering up to meet yours beneath the sink. for a second, his gaze lingered on your lips, before he blinked and forced his attention back to the metal wrench in his hand. “alright. on three. one... two... three.”
you clamped the pliers onto the collar and squeezed with all your might. you could hear caleb grunting below you, biceps bunching as he threw his strength into turning the stubborn rusted bolt. but the second the wrench caught, your hand slipped on the grease-slicked metal. the pliers clattered loudly against the tiles, and the gray pipe twisted with a nasty screech.
“wait, wait! stop!” you gasped, your fingers scrambling to grab the tool again.
“you're letting it turn!” caleb yelled, though it was more of a breathless panicked laugh than an actual scold. he had to throw his arm over your shoulder, his large hand coming down over yours to help you steady the pliers. “there, hold it tight like that and squeeze!”
“i am squeezing! your hands are too big, you're blocking my grip!”
“okay, okay, teamwork, remember?” caleb chuckled, his breath fanning across your neck. “let me reposition. you hold the handle with both hands, and i’ll just use raw force on the wrench. ready? go."
this time, you locked your fingers around the pliers, planting your heels firmly against the tiled floor and leaning your entire body weight into the tool to keep the line steady. caleb grunted again, a low sound deep in his throat, and with one shove of his arm, the rusted coupling bolt finally gave way, sliding smoothly into place with a satisfying click!
“is that it?” you panted, your knuckles white from gripping the pliers.
“uh, turn the valve. let's see.”
still hovering over him, you reached out and twisted the small plastic knob all the way to the left. for a second, there was a breathless silence—and then, the hollow hiss in the walls was replaced by the rushing water. you both waited, eyes wide, staring at the joint.
not a single drop leaked out. it was perfectly, completely dry.
a breathless laugh then tore out of your chest before you could stop it. “we actually did it!”
“good job, pips.” caleb smiled, his hands coming up to clap against his thighs as he slid himself out from under the sink. ”this is exactly like that summer when we tried to build that stupid treehouse behind the old chapel. remember? you dropped the entire box of nails into the mud and blamed it on a stray dog.“ a nostalgic smile broke across his face as he sat back on his heels.
you wiped the stray pools of water from the floor with an old rag, while caleb casually tossed the teflon tape and pliers back into his plastic toolbox. “because it was a stray dog! it barked at me and i got scared, and need i remind you who tried to use a literal rock because he forgot to bring a hammer?”
“hey, the rock worked for at least three planks,” caleb defended himself, catching the rag you threw at him with a grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that specific, beautiful way they always did when he was genuinely happy. “besides, i was twelve. cut me some slack. at least i didn't cry when the roof fell through.”
“i did not cry because the roof fell, caleb, i cried because a caterpillar fell on my shoulder!”
“same thing, baby. you were a total baby.”
“says the guy who still can't sleep without a fan on because he thinks the darkness makes the room smaller,” you shot back, leaning your shoulder against the bathroom wall.
caleb paused, his grin softening into something incredibly tender, leaving behind the golden-boy warmth you had starved for over the last four years.
“i missed this.” he casually reached out, his long fingers gently tugging at a loose strand of your hair that had dried in a messy curl against your cheek. “i missed you making fun of me. the guys at the academy are too polite. it’s boring.“
“yeah?” your heart did that erratic skip against your ribs again as his thumb lightly brushed against the edge of your jawline. “well... someone has to keep your ego in check.”
“exactly, can't have me flying planes with an oversized head, right?”
you finally stood up, your knees cracking slightly as you broke the spell of the small space.
“i'm gonna... i should probably check the kitchen. granny bought some fish earlier, so i'll start cooking lunch before she wakes up.” you murmured, keeping your voice light as you took a step toward the exit, your hand already reaching for the brass doorknob.
you didn't even get to wrap your fingers around the metal when—
thud.
a large palm slammed flat against the wood of the door right in front of your face, the sudden vibration rattling through the frame. you jumped in surprise, your breath catching sharply in your throat as you instinctively whirled around.
“don't.”
caleb was looming directly over you, but it was the look on his face that made your heart stop. the boyish smile from seconds ago was entirely gone. instead, his features were twisted into a deeply troubled, desperate grimace.
“don't go.”
you frowned. “what do you mean? i'm just going to the kitchen—”
“don't go to the city today,” he interrupted, his tone shifting into something bolder as he stepped even closer, effectively trapping your smaller frame beneath his. “i only have two months here. that's it. sixty days before they drag me back to the barracks and put me back in a cockpit. so...”
caleb hesitates, but he takes a deep breath.
“can you just stay here? can you... spend every single day with me before i have to leave again?"
you stared up at him, your mouth parting slightly. fuck, you were blushing now. it must be so visible.
caleb’s hand—the one planted firmly beside your head—slowly curled into a tight fist against the wood of the door. “it feels like i missed you a hell of a lot more than you missed me.” his voice dropped an octave, turning into a vulnerable murmur. “you have no idea how many nights i spent staring at the ceiling of that concrete bunk, just waiting to see your face this close again.”
speechless, you could only look up at him, your mind completely short-circuiting under his honesty.
desperate to find some sort of anchor, desperate to make sense of the dizzying reality that caleb—your childhood friend that you should see as a brother—was practically begging for your attention, you swallowed hard and blurted out the first defensive defense your brain could manufacture.
“why didn't you get a girlfriend there?” you try, blinking rapidly as you struggled to maintain his gaze. “i mean it, caleb. you're... you're handsome, and you're well-built. it’s completely impossible that you didn't at least have girls trying to talk to you or court you up there.“
“why didn't i get one?” a slow smile broke through his troubled expression, his eyes glittering with a sudden amusement. he tilted his head down, his gaze dropping briefly to your small hands, before snapping back up to lock directly into your eyes.
“because... i prayed every single day. i closed my eyes at night and prayed that you wouldn't have a boyfriend by the time i got back.” you press your head further against the wood of the door, just when caleb nears his face close enough. “the thought of another man touching what belongs to this house... what belongs to me... would really, deeply upset me."
he leaned down a fraction of an inch further, but then he suddenly breaks the proximity by pulling back.
“and... did you just say i'm handsome?” caleb smiled wider, his thumb trailing down the doorframe to lightly graze the very edge of your wet shoulder. “so... is that an admission? am i attractive to you?”
am i attractive to you?
your lips parted, but no sound came out.
the sheer audacity of him—shifting from a desperate aching boy to this dangerously confident creature in the span of a single breath—was enough to make your throat go dry. you wanted to push him away, wanted to snap at him for using that rumbling tone on you, but you couldn't.
“you're an idiot, caleb.”
“that's not an answer, pips.”
he moved his hand from the doorframe, his fingers sliding slowly down the side of your neck. his palm was warm, a stark contrast to the chilled skin of your collarbone where the groundwater had soaked you earlier. his thumb found the frantic pulse point fluttering at the base of your throat, pressing just firmly enough to let you know he could feel exactly how much power he held over you in this room.
just outside, through the wooden slats of these walls, granny was sleeping. the knowledge that she was just at the other side of the room—that a single loud noise, a dropped tool, or a sharp gasp would shatter the quiet of the house...
“caleb, stop,“ you breathed, the protest losing all its teeth as your fingers instinctively curled into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him slightly closer instead of pushing him back. “granny will...”
“i'm being quiet,” he whispered back, tilting his head until his lips were brushing the sensitive shell of your ear. “but you're driving me crazy.”
a soft whimper caught in your throat, and caleb immediately swallowed it.
“hmgh—!”
you felt his hand sliding from your neck up to your jaw, tilting your face up as his lips came down to meet yours.
it wasn't the sweet, tentative kiss of childhood friends.
it was rather heavy, desperate, and laced with an aching hunger that had been rotting inside his chest for several months.
his lips pressed firm and unyielding against yours, demanding a response you had been starving to give. you let out a muffled gasp against his mouth, and caleb took total advantage of it—his tongue slid past your teeth with a stroke that made your knees buckle.
you would have almost slid straight down the door if caleb’s other arm hadn't instantly locked around your waist.
he hoisted you up, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips through your thin shorts, dragging your lower body flush against his. the solid weight of him was overwhelming; you could feel the hard contours of his thighs and the frantic rising and falling of his chest.
you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, your fingers tangling into the short, damp strands of his hair, pulling him down further. you kissed him back with the same bitterness you’d been hoarding since he left—punishing him for the distance, for the nursing student lie, for the suffocating way he made you feel like you belonged to him even when he was hundreds of miles away.
your hands, tangled in the soft fabric of his black t-shirt, moved themselves to his shoulders, pushing against the stubborn muscle until he was forced to take a blind step backward. his heel caught against the base of the toilet, and with a muffled grunt, caleb sank down.
the plastic lid was securely closed, providing a seat that placed him directly beneath you, his knees spread wide to accommodate the sudden change in height.
you froze for a second, your breath hitching as you stood between his thighs. the sudden drop in his posture left you looking down at him, your hands still resting on his broad shoulders while he looked up at you through his eyelashes. you hesitated, your lower lip stinging from the friction of his mouth, and despite of it all, your mind kept on screaming that you were crossing a line you could never uncross.
but caleb didn't give you the chance to overthink it.
his hands reached up, palms slick with a light sheen of sweat as they wrapped firmly around the sides of your waist. with one heavy pull, he guided your hips forward. and then, your knees slid effortlessly over his thick, denim-clad thighs until you were completely straddling his lap.
“ah—”
shit, this is such an intimate position!
the impact of your lower body hitting his thighs made a gasp slip from your throat, but caleb caught it instantly again. he surged upward, his mouth slamming back over yours to smother the sound before it could echo past the wooden door.
the kiss turned frantic, fueled by the weight of your body resting completely on his. it wasn't gentle anymore. caleb’s tongue pushed deep, demanding and possessive, while his teeth lightly caught the flesh of your bottom lip, biting down just enough to make you whine into his mouth. you bit him back in retaliation, an instinctive nip that made a guttural vibration rumble deep in his chest. his hands moved from your waist, one sliding up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling roughly into your damp hair to hold your face exactly where he wanted it, while the other pressed flat against your lower back.
and then, without warning, your mind went entirely, terrifyingly blank.
a sudden rolling pressure moved beneath the thin fabric of your shorts. caleb arched his back just to grind his hips upward in a slow tilt that pressed the hard length of his arousal directly against your center.
then, a sharp jolt of pure heat shot straight up your spine, making your eyes flutter shut as your fingers clawed into the fabric of his shirt.
“caleb—” you gasped against his lips, trying to pull back just an inch to breathe.
“shh,” he breathed, his mouth instantly chasing yours, his lips brushing against your cheek, your jawline, before burying his face in the crook of your neck. his breathing was completely ragged, a suffocating thing against your collarbone. he didn't stop. his hand on your lower back moved down, a heavy palm pressing firmly against the base of your spine, and he ground his hips upward again, harder this time, forcing you to feel every single inch of how aroused he's just getting.
“please,” caleb whispered into your skin, his voice cracking. ”don't move away. please... just let me feel you like this. i’m so tired of imagining it.”
“granny will...” you whimpered, your head tilting back as his teeth lightly grazed the sensitive skin right beneath your ear. your hands were shaking against his shoulders, your lower body instinctively tilting into his next roll, a shameless surrender that made him let out a broken sigh. “caleb, if she... if she hears us...”
“she won't,” he muttered against your skin, his thumb digging firmly into your hip bone, locking you flush against him so there wasn't a single millimeter of space left between your bodies. he took a deep breath, his chest expanding hard against yours as he forced his movements to become agonizingly slow. “i’ll be quiet. just stay. please... you’re right here, you’re finally right here...”
“i'm here,” you whispered breathlessly into his ear. “i'm right here.”
your skin was beginning to sting where it pressed against his. the agonizingly slow tilts of his hips couldn't stay slow for long.
without either of you consciously deciding it, the grinding turned into a drag of weight against weight—a quiet breathless dryhumping that sent waves of heat pooling directly between your thighs.
the fabric of your loose shorts and his heavy denim rubbed together with a soft, repetitive whisper—it was the only continuous sound in the small space besides the ragged, broken cadence of your breaths. caleb’s hands were no longer just holding you; they were practically anchoring you to him. his long fingers buried into the flesh of your bum, pulling your pelvis down hard against his with every upward surge of his thighs.
“caleb—”
the name was clipped neatly from your tongue as he hitched his hips higher, a muffled whimper escaping your throat. you slapped a hand over your own mouth, your eyes widening in sheer panic as you stared at the bathroom door. the reminder of granny sleeping just down the hall felt like a wire wrapped tight around your throat.
caleb caught your wrist, gently pulling your hand away from your lips only to replace it with his own shoulder. “bite me,” he choked out a whisper. “bite the shirt. don't... don't make a sound.”
you didn't hesitate. you buried your face into the soft black cotton of his shoulder, your teeth sinking into the fabric as caleb let out a shuddering gasp.
he was a complete mess.
nothing more than a boy who looked thoroughly undone by your weight in his lap. a dark crimson blush had crawled all the way up his neck, blooming across his sharp cheekbones and turning the tips of his ears a burning pink. his long eyelashes were damp, fluttering rapidly as he kept his eyes squeezed shut.
every time your weight humped against his hard bulge, a whine would catch in his throat, a sound he desperately swallowed by burying his face into your hair.
you began to move with him, your hips rolling in a frantic rhythm that matched his pace, chasing the tight, coil of pleasure that was tightening in your stomach. this makes his fingers dig brutally into your hip bones.
“wait—hey, wait,” he wheezed, his hips stuttering against yours as he tried to find his bearings. he was trembling beneath you, the muscles in his thighs and arms locked so tight they were vibrating. he opened his eyes, irises completely blown out, to look up at you. “you're... if you move like that... i won't be able to stay quiet.”
“then don't move,” you breathed against his neck, unable to stop humping him like a starving bunny.
“i can't,” he whispered back, a tear of sheer overstimulation tracing down his flushed temple. a soft, helpless whimper broke from his chest as his hips instinctively arched upward again, completely disregarding his own warning. he ground his lower body against yours in three quick, desperate, and torturously deep strokes, his head falling back against the porcelain tank as he fought a losing battle to keep his ragged groans silent inside.
“how about...” you panted, “how about we do this standing up? would that... would that make less noise?“
caleb's movements immediately stopped, his breath hitching sharply in his throat at the suggestion. he didn't answer with words; his large hands just tightened around your waist, and with a low grunt of exertion, he stood up, lifting you effortlessly off his lap before setting your feet firmly back onto the cool tile floor.
before your knees could buckle from the sudden rush of cold air, caleb's heavy palms guided you forward. you found yourself bending over the bathroom sink, your upper body lowering until your forearms were pressed flat against the cool, smooth porcelain basin...
right in front of the wide mirror.
seconds later, the towering weight of caleb’s chest loomed against your back. he adjusted his stance, his long legs spreading slightly to frame yours, and then he crowded back into you. the thick ridge of his arousal aligned perfectly with your ass from behind, pressing hard against your thin cotton shorts.
he started moving again, but this angle... this angle was entirely different.
it was so much more exposing, so much more intense, because when you look up, your blurred vision collided directly with your reflection in the mirror.
you could see everything. you could see your own flushed breathless face, your lips swollen and wet from his kisses. and right behind you, caleb was a mess. his dark hair was thoroughly mussed, cheeks and neck burning with a furious blush.
with every thrust from him, the force of his hips sent a jolt of heat straight to your throbbing thing, making your hands slick against the porcelain as you gripped the edges of the sink for dear life.
“hngh...! caleb—”
“shh—you have to keep quiet,” caleb scrambled to scold you, but he sounded completely panicked, his breathing so loud and ragged it was a miracle granny couldn't hear it from outside. “gran's room is... it's literally right beside this. if you make a sound, i'm gonna—we're gonna get caught.”
even while trying to play the protective guide, his eyes shifted downward in the reflection. staring at your bent-down position, watching the way your body curved beneath his and how perfectly you took every push of his thighs, was enough to send caleb entirely over the edge. he went visibly harder against you, his long fingers trembling violently where they were clamped over your hip bones.
“god, shit—” caleb choked out, his forehead dropping heavily against your shoulder blade, his chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon. his rhythm turned a little clumsy, a little too eager, his hips grinding up against you with an uncoordinated, desperate hunger that made your mind spin. “i... i don't even know what i'm doing. i almost... i can't believe this is real. you're actually here. you're really letting me do this.”
“caleb, you're moving too fast,” you whimpered, your fingers slipping on the wet porcelain as he gave another firm, deep roll of his pelvis that made your thighs shake.
“i'm sorry, i'm sorry,” pressing a line of apologetic kisses along your shoulder blade, he consciously tried to slow himself down, his large hands squeezing your hips to steady the rhythm, though the intense blush on his face only deepened until his ears were practically purple. “is this better? like this?”
“yeah... yeah..”
suddenly, caleb’s hands moved from your hips, his long fingers sliding beneath the hem of your shorts.
“hey,” he choked out. “i can't... i'm not staying behind these clothes anymore. i need to feel you.”
with a frantic uncoordinated rush of movement that was entirely fueled by a lack of control, he pulled your shorts and underwear down to your knees, managing to free himself from his gym shorts at the exact same time.
the sudden sensation of his bare, burning skin pressing against your uncovered backside made you gasp. “w-wait, caleb, what are y—”
he didn't wait. caleb guided the tip of his manhood to your entrance and pushed forward. with a slow, agonizingly thick surge, he slid completely inside of you.
the size of him filled you so entirely it took your breath away. your fingers clawed at the slick porcelain of the sink, your head dropping as a high broken whimper left your lips. caleb let out a long trembling groan against your shoulder, his chest heaving violently as he buried himself to the hilt.
“fuck, fuck!”
”be quiet, caleb...”
“s-sorry, fuck.” a lazy smirk tugged at his lips in the reflection, his hands tightening on your waist. “see? i told you nobody else could fit you like this. you're shaking.”
he buries his head into your hole much, much deeper. “did you miss me this much?”
the teasing sting of his words, even now, made a surge of stubborn retaliation flare up in your chest. you didn't want him to see how completely undone you were. pulling your hands off the sink, you tried to straighten your spine and pull yourself forward, attempting to slide off his dick to break his rhythm.
it was the wrong move.
the sudden threat of losing you made caleb snap completely. his large hands locked around your hips like iron cuffs, yanked you violently backward, and thrusted into you with a force that was so deep and heavy it made your vision go entirely white.
“don't run from me,” caleb gave another hard, bruising thrust that almost hit your womb, pinning you ruthlessly against the porcelain. his upper body slammed against your back, his face completely flushed a dark, furious crimson as he forced your head up. “look at yourself in the mirror. look at what you're doing to me. look at how much of me is inside you right now.”
you couldn't even form words to respond. you were completely paralyzed by how big, how thick, and how utterly unrelenting he felt stretching you open from the inside. all you could do was grip the edges of the sink for dear life, your knuckles turning white as your body struggled to take his bare thighs slapping against yours.
yet, for all his dominant holding, caleb was a complete, crying mess.
every single time he shoved his hips forward, a pathetic little moan escaped his throat—sounds he tried so desperately to bite back, burying his face in your wet hair or chewing on his own bottom lip until it bled, utterly terrified of waking granny up outside.
“fuck, please,” caleb whimpered against your neck, penetrating you over and over again with each stroke making you cry out into your hand. he was trembling so hard the vibration traveled straight into your body. “can we... can we do this every day? just until i leave again? please. tell me you'll let me do this to you every single day?”
you couldn't even answer him. you were too occupied, and quite literally occupied, by the way he's pounding against your ass.
he was driving into you, his pelvis slamming against your backside with a wet and heavy sound. it was too much. the fullness of him stretching you open was overwhelming, and as he bottomed out completely inside you for the third time in a row, the careful restraint in your throat shattered.
“aaangh~!”
before the sound could even fade, caleb's palm snapped upward to clamp firmly over your mouth. his long fingers wrapped tightly around your jaw, crushing your lips against your teeth and effectively smothering your next desperate gasp into a muffled whimper against his skin.
“i told you to stay quiet,” but even as he scolded you, his lower body didn't slow down for a single second. if anything, your loud reaction only drove him deeper into the edge, his hips pumping into you even faster. “you're gonna wake her up. do you want gran to walk in here and see you like this? see what a bad girl you're being f'me?”
you were completely pathetic beneath him now. you couldn't breathe properly, you couldn't scream, and you couldn't pull away. all you could do was let out small broken whines against his palms, your tears wetting his fingers as your hips shook uncontrollably under the force of his penetration. you were nothing but a trembling, weeping toy for him to use.
“shit... oh god, shit, look at you,”
followed by a groan, his entire body went rigid as he reached his breaking point. needing to get even deeper, to consume every remaining inch of you before he spilled, he reached down with his other hand and hooked it beneath your thigh. with one effortless pull, he lifted your leg up to force you to balance precariously on one foot while your knee was pinned up against his waist. “fuck, i'm so close,”
the new, devastatingly wide angle opened you up completely. it only allowed him to bury his entire length into you with a series of shoving that made your head snap back.
“don't make a sound,” caleb choked out, his voice cracking into a crying whisper while he began to hammer into you with his hand pressing harder against your mouth. “keep it in. take all of me right now. just take it.”
the final push of his hips sent your mind spiraling into absolute oblivion, your body tightening around his thickness in a series of violent, helpless spasms that milked him completely. caleb let out a sharp gasp against the crown of your head, his entire muscular frame going stiff as iron against your back. he knew he was at the absolute point of no return. even through the blinding fog of his climax, that ingrained discipline and the terrifying reality of the consequences cut through his thoughts.
with a sudden, desperate grunt of exertion, caleb grabbed your hip bone with bruising force and violently pulled himself out of you.
the abrupt sensation of emptiness made a choked sob rise in your throat, but before you could even register the loss, caleb’s release hit you. he came in heavy thick spurts across your backside and the small of your lower back.
“oh, god—oh fuck, i'm coming, i'm coming,” caleb cried out, his voice completely fracturing into a loud mess. he couldn't even keep himself quiet anymore. “fuck, i love you, i love you so much. look at what you did to your caleb.”
a crying whimper escaped his lips as the final waves of his orgasm racked his large body. his hand finally slid off your face, fingers trembling as he let go of your jaw, leaving your lips swollen and burning. instead, he dropped both of his heavy palms onto the curves of your hips. “look at this fucking mess...”
meanwhile, your upper body remained slumped over the cool porcelain of the sink. your fingers were weakly splayed against the slick basin, completely devoid of any remaining strength. your knees were wobbling so much beneath your weight that the only thing keeping you from collapsing onto the tiled floor was the unyielding grip of caleb's hands on your waist.
slowly, caleb’s heavy breathing began to level out, turning into shallow, ragged pants against the nape of your neck. he opened his eyes, staring down at the reflection in the wide glass mirror.
he could only stare at the mess in absolute awe. the sight of you bent over the sink, your shorts pushed down to your knees, your skin flushed a beautiful crimson and glistening with his thick, white fluids, looked like something straight out of the sinful dreams he had hoarded in his concrete barracks. it didn't feel real. the fact that he had actually touched you, filled you, and marked you like this inside his grandmother’s house made his heart thump.
with a sigh, caleb leaned his entire weight forward, completely hugging you from behind. his broad chest pressed firmly against your back while his large arms wrapped securely around your waist to support your sagging frame. he buried his face into the side of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply as if he were trying to memorize it all over again.
“pipsqueak,” he whispered, his voice incredibly rough, gravelly. ”hey... look at me. are you okay? did i hurt you?”
you let out a small whimper, your head shifting weakly against his shoulder as you managed to nod. “yes... i'm okay.”
caleb let out a breathy chuckle, and he tilted his head to press a soft kiss against your burning cheek. “do you think we woke gran up?”
you swallowed the dryness in your throat as you stared blankly at the porcelain basin. “i... i don't know, caleb. you were really loud at the end.”
caleb hummed, a lazy, satisfied sound as his thumbs lightly stroked the sensitive skin of your hip bones, soothing the small red marks his fingers had left behind.
“well... if she's awake, she's probably just gonna think i'm clumsy and dropped the wrench again,” he murmured into your hair, his grip tightening just a fraction, pulling you closer into his warmth. “come on. let's get you cleaned up. i'll wash you down, and then... i'll cook you that braised pork you love right now. the one with the sweet soy sauce and the star anise. how would that sound, pips?”
“that sounds great, gege.”
caleb gulped at the nickname. “it's been a while since you used that on me,” his face breaks into a smile, and then he leans down to look at you in the eye instead of through the mirror. “what if you use that while we do it again tonight?”
content warning: kidnapping, held captive against your will, caleb is a decietful liar and manipulator with a complex, you don’t know how to feel about it all, smut + i'm not sure if this can be considered dubcon but i'm still going to list it just in case so please proceed with caution. you are responsible for the media you consume! + i did proofread but not to the fullest extent sooo...
kidnapper!caleb who took you without remorse. he was patient in his execution, taking advantage of his well-earned title as your best friend to inhabit your home over the last few days with the poor excuse of “missing his favorite person” in tow when you’d undoubtedly question his unusual sudden boost in clinginess.
and his plan to take you wasn’t something spontaneous, rather a long and detailed plan that had several contingencies in place if needed and one happy ending that he intended to reach. despite his eagerness, he had to be careful. he only had one chance at carrying everything out successfully, and he’d be damned if he wasted it.
so while it hurt him to watch the understandable terror and tinge of betrayal that flashed briefly in your eyes when they locked with his as he placed that cloth over your mouth and nose on what you believed to be his final night over, he was certain that the plans he had in store for your future together would outweigh everything you may think when you see him again.
kidnapper!caleb didn’t have a special or an unearthly reason for why he decided to take you for himself. truly he didn’t. honestly, it was a rather simple and levelheaded conclusion if anyone were to ask him.
it was because he could, because he wanted to. and because he knew that he deserved to have you.
he didn’t want to share you with the world anymore—with your friends, your family, or even your coworkers who’d seem to have access to you more than he did at times. in fact, he had grown quite fucking sick of doing so and was proud of himself for remaining as disciplined as he’d been underneath all the frustration.
being forced to experience being put on the back burner as you tried your hardest to split your time amongst all the people who seemingly love you and seeing you make space for their selfish needs wasn’t fair.
how could they ever be more important to you than him? because he loved you the most out of all, why couldn't you see that? if you did, why was he the one given the scraps? he’d rather be a dead man than ever consider anyone loving you more than he does.
no longer would he allow you to brush off his words like you’d always do when he told you that he wished he could take you away from it all. he’d never let you downplay or dismiss his true feelings anymore with your condescending ‘awww’s and distracting pet names. instead, he’d make you see.
kidnapper!caleb never wants to make you feel like a prisoner when he brings you to what he’s created for your semi-permanent stay.
yes, it’s true that he wouldn’t let you leave the space he single-handedly created for the two of you with meticulous intent. and yes, he’d be the only one giving you all your wants and necessities without any contact from the outside world. in time, he'd be open to discussions for that to change.
but despite being the one with all the power, he was under your control.
he made that clear the moment you opened your pretty eyes and registered your new reality. seeing how you cursed at him as you thrashed on the bed against your restraints and how you brazenly demanded answers behind barely shed tears was enough to make his dick twitch in his pants. right then he wanted you to have him, to jump up and do whatever you wanted to do if it made you feel good.
“i’ve waited… so long… to have you like this,” he whispered with a disturbing tone that was still laced with twisted love and awe. your jaw and body tensed as he used his fingers to carefully trace your cheekbone and the outline of the defiant pout on your lips. he didn’t like that, but he understood. love always had its ups and downs. “you’re not scared of me, right pipsqueak? 'cause you shouldn’t be. i did this for us. i promised i would, don’t you remember?”
his smile barely reached his eyes as he watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest. while you lay helplessly on an unfamiliar bed that you couldn’t deny the comfort of with hazy confusion, all caleb wanted to do was suckle on your nipples and bury himself inside you until there was no more space in between.
soon. he knew you’d let him soon.
you never let your gaze deter from his movements as he reached for the thick chains around your wrists and ankles keeping you shackled to the bed, unlocking and unraveling them and leaning down until the tips of your noses barely touch. it was bold of him, to remain so close with you being freed. perhaps it was that sickening confidence.
“we have to trust each other, right? it’s a two-way street.” how could this still be your caleb? the one who vowed to protect you. the one who swore he’d do anything to make you happy. “but don’t forget who i am or what i’m capable of, pips. you of all people should know that i work hard to get what i want and i’ll go even harder to keep it.”
kidnapper!caleb is an excellent liar and an even better actor. while he keeps you on lockdown in a discreet location that's miles upon miles away and is something only he knows of and has access to, he’s out there with the people in your life who are desperately searching for you while convincing them that he’s just as distraught and at a loss.
he had the perfect alibis in place despite being the only person to have seen you last and even knew how to make his voice hoarse and crack at just the right times when he was brought in for questioning. with fake smiles and words of encouragement, he’d console your parents and delirious friends as he falsely promised to do everything he could to bring you home to them.
there was never a day that he missed as he aided in their useless search. he was there when everyone got together for an orchestrated community search, hating to leave you alone at night to attend but couldn’t help but to test the daring waters over and over again.
the fake tears and blatant lying were almost addicting. orchestrating it all while being the cause was a high he’d ride until they finally let you go. they had no choice but to.
kidnapper!caleb loved getting to watch you drop your guard and succumb to him in real time. it wasn’t just because it’s always been what he’s wanted, but because it was all being done by your somewhat free will, although you continuously swore you’d never be what he wanted.
but he knew you, better than you knew yourself. you may be the one capable of moving the chess pieces, but it was still and would always be his game.
days turned to weeks and weeks trickled slowly into months before you began to mindlessly initiate conversations as if under normal circumstances, before you’d ask him for things on your own accord or to stay with you and watch movies instead of sitting and watching you do your own thing from afar.
what was once fear and anger became comfort, familiarity, and an odd sense of longing.
perhaps it began when you would notice how he’d restrain from touching you the way he so clearly wanted to and used his eyes to do what he didn’t let his hands.
maybe it was from all the nights where he’d curl up in that big bed beside you despite your protests and hold you close with his cock nestled against your ass through thin articles of clothing. or when he’d take your dirty clothes and shamelessly sniff your panties in front of you before tucking one into his pocket and washing the rest.
regardless of what it is, you couldn’t explain why you never fought back. or why your panties we’re always left damp whenever he’d do things like lightly caressing your inner thigh the way he was now as he sat beside you and watched the news.
or why you don’t stop him when he let his hands go further than usual until his fingers find their way inside your shorts.
kidnapper!caleb knows that he won’t be able to savor you like he thought he would the first time he got to feel you. he figured he’d slowly rub your clit until your world shattered and you came on his fingers as he slipped one or two inside you to see what it felt like when your cunt got greedy.
he thought maybe he’d be okay with just playing with your pussy and feeling your slick make a mess on the hand of the man you vowed to hate for the rest of your life since your first day in your new normal.
but then you reached over, almost as if in a trance fueled by uncontrollable lust, and palmed his cock through his sweats with bated breath and sorrowful eyes that seemingly begged for him to stop you before it went too far.
if caleb were a selfless man, you wouldn’t be here.
instead, he guided you to stand in front of him on trembling legs and looked up at you with violet pools brimming with pride. he pressed a kiss to your stomach and brought you closer with his palms engrossing themselves in the plush softness of your outer thighs.
“take them off,” he said lowly in a way both demanding and pleading, tugging on the bottom end of your shorts. naturally, you hesitated, your features telling him every single emotion that takes over your mind where your mouth is incapable. “don’t act like you don’t want it. i’ve let you get away with lyin’ to me for all this time. i think i’ve more than earned this, wouldn’t you say?”
kidnapper!caleb makes you take the lead when you finally settle yourself in his lap. from releasing his dick from its confines, positioning him at your embarrassingly soaked hole, and burying your face in his neck as your pussy swallowed each girthy inch, immediately you knew that you’d made a terrible mistake.
but you just couldn’t stop yourself. it's like you could feel him in your guts, could feel every pulsing vein kissing your tightening walls. the sensation of being so full of your once best friend turned captor was sickeningly intense and yet, you couldn’t—no, you didn’t want it to be taken away.
you couldn’t look him in the eyes as you used his body like he told you to do in between shaky mewls, tears spilling from both inebriating pleasure and unbridled anger at yourself for the uncontrolled moans that spilled when he guided your sloppy movements by your hips from being so emotional and conflicted.
“you feel how well we fit?” he coos in your ear as you rock your hips to feel him reach even deeper. he slides in and out of you with so much ease that it makes your stomach flip and your body ache for so much more. it makes you disappointed in yourself for being so willing. “i would—hah, fuck—say sorry, for letting it go this far, pips… but ‘m not. and i’ll never be. i just hope you’ll learn to love me the same way i love you. i’ll still love you… even if you don’t.”
“i h-hate you,” you mumble through your uncontainable moans, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck to hold him closer as the burning in your thighs drive you to chase your high even faster. “you took everyone—everything, away f-from me… you ruined my life, caleb… i hate you s-so much…”
“if you weren’t such a liar…” he nips and licks beneath your ear, never interrupting the fluidity of his thrusts that force a sensational tingle down your spine. “that would’ve reaaally hurt me.”
you refused to acknowledge the somewhat truth in his statement. absolutely refused.
the rush of his cum suddenly spilling into you and your orgasm knocking the breath from your lungs claims your attention instead. caleb pumps it all inside of you, leaving a sticky mess that leaks from being overfilled and clings filthily to where you remain connected.
“… search still ongoing for the sudden disappearance of a local woman. if you have any information, please contact your local law enforcement or the hotline displayed on your screen. for more details….”
“oh look,” caleb hums, sitting you up and grabbing you gently by the underside of your jaw to make you face the tv. “that’s the picture i told your mom to use. pretty, isn’t it? ‘s one of my favorites.”
you really were stuck with him. and you hated yourself for not knowing if you despised the idea as much as you know you should.
a/n: if you hate this or think it's utter ass like i do, LITERALLYYYY DON'T TELL ME!!!!!
! synopsis: in an interrogation, the colonel’s arrogance pissed you off more than anything else. to mock him at least, you decide to give his gun a blowjob...
! tags: nsfw, mdni, colonel!caleb, bratty!reader, powerplay, dubcon themes, dead dove themes, gunplay, use of a baton, oral (m!receiving), manhandling, creampie, swallowing, a closeted perv!caleb
! wc: 3.4k
you sat alone, wrists bound with sleek magnetic cuffs that glinted under the light of an unfamiliar chamber. your hair had fallen loose from the standard tie, clinging to your cheek. dust smeared along the sleeve of your clothes, a remnant of the chase that led you here.
then, the colonel entered.
tall, meticulous, draped in regulation black. silver insignias gleamed on his collarbone, catching the sterile light. he simply shuts the door behind him and leaned against it for a moment, watching you. “you're not listed in any fleet registry, so either someone went through a lot of trouble to scrub you clean—” he reached into the inner lining of his uniform and retrieved a slim baton. “or you were never meant to be here in the first place.”
your breath hitched, but your face didn’t change. he twirled the baton in his fingers - slowly, like a man spinning thought between his hands - before he drifted behind you. “your infiltration logs were brilliant, i’ll give you that,” you felt the baton before you saw it, its cool metal brushing lightly against the curve of your neck. it was just there, ghosting over your pulse.
“who are you?” his voice was close now, just right behind you, coaxing—as if he already knew, and was waiting for you to admit it.
you tilted your chin to say, “you first.”
he then gave a low hum, a smirk with an imperceptible huff. the baton dragged lightly down the side of your throat, trailing warmth in its absence.
“watch your mouth.”
arrogant bitch.
you cursed inside your head. the baton slid lower a breath along your collarbone, light enough to be mistaken for air. “you stole a signal that doesn’t exist on official channels,” he whispered, a lulling edge to the end. “you replied to something that no one should’ve been able to hear.”
the baton stilled, resting just at the base of your throat. you could feel its weight, you could feel his weight and the full press of his attention, sharp and absolute. then he leaned down that you could feel the surface of his lips ghostly brushing against below your ear. it made you want to shiver. “who sent you?”
you let the silence stretch, let it fester. his question lingered in the air between you, still clinging to the metal baton resting against your skin. then, you snickered. a sharp, cruel thing. like a blade dragged across velvet.
”you talk too much,” you turned your head as much as the restraints would let you, and your eyes met his over your shoulder, unapologetic “you wear all that black like it’s meant to scare me, but i’ve seen even more prettier things rot.”
you smiled faintly, before moving just a sudden shift, a sharp buck of your knees and a jerk of your shoulder - but enough to make the chair scrape against the floor, to make him step back out of instinct. you twisted hard, trying to unbalance yourself, maybe break the armrest, maybe dislodge something sharp.
but before you could even move again, his hand was on your shoulder. ”you're not being clever.” he leaned down. the baton tapped once, gently, against your temple. “you don't need to bury your fear under your sleeve, i've broken better masks than yours.”
and then, slowly, he stepped around you, back into view. and from his hip he drew the gun. polished, regulation-issue sidearm, matte black and loaded. he didn’t point it at you, nor did he try to threaten. he simply turned it over in his hands, admiring it and kneeling down, until you were face to face.
he lifted the gun, deliberately, and tilted the barrel so it rested beneath your chin. the touch was featherlight. “do you know what makes me dangerous? it’s not this.” then came a gentle tap against your jaw with the muzzle. “it’s that i never need to use it.” he tilted his head, eyes dragging across your face like he was dissecting it.
“because i know someone like you folds easily.”
there's a pause, long enough to stretch. long enough for you to feel the weight of it all, his breath, the barrel, the words that still clung to the air like smoke. but you refused to flinch. instead, with the slow calculated tension of someone who’s been waiting, you twist your wrists. the cuffs groan in response, before...
a snap!
metal splits with a screeching crack, and before the sound even finishes ringing out, you instantly moved. only your hands can though, as your ankles are also trapped. your fingers wrap around his wrist and wrench the gun from his hand, trained.
he lets you, strangely. he lets you drag the muzzle up, up, up - until it’s basically pressing into your own lips, eyes locked with his like a dare. “you could put this in and pull the trigger, but i still won't talk.”
colonel caleb smirks, standing up without breaking eye contact. after a slight pause, he twists your wrist in an abrupt flicker to take the gun back between his fingers, and then, “sure, i will.” he says, right before forcing the gun into your mouth.
this catches you off guard, making you squirm on your seat and grip on the armrests. you could feel how the barrel of his gun is pushing your mouth lpen just to adjust to its size. though it wasn’t fairly big, the absurdity of the gesture only seemed to humiliate you.
you watch him stare down at you. why wasn't he saying anything? you watch how his eyes were slowly turning lazy, a ghost of an uncharacteristic smirk forming between his lips.
the cold metal of the barrel stretched your lips wide, a blunt and intrusive presence that tasted of oil and gunpowder. you let out a muffled, indignant sound, your throat working as you tried to accommodate the intrusion. your hands gripped the armrests so hard your knuckles turned white, eyes wide and flashing with a mixture of shock and mounting fury. you expected the sting of a slap or the bite of a blade, but whatever this shit is far more humiliating.
is this typically how the colonel treats problems?
caleb didn’t pull back. he stayed close between your thighs, gaze heavy and unblinking as he watched you struggle. he looked less like an interrogator and more like a man watching a beautiful, trapped bird flutter its wings in vain. “what happened to all that fire?” he asked, “you were so ready to bite, weren’t you?”
he leaned forward, his weight shifting as he used his free hand to tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. with a slow movement, he pushed the muzzle deeper. it wasn’t a violent shove, but a commanding pressure that forced your jaw to unhinge just a fraction more. the metal slid past your teeth, only pressing against the sensitive flesh of your tongue.
“there she is,” he murmured, a ghost of a laugh catching in his throat as he saw the way your eyes narrowed into a fierce glare from beneath the heavy lid of your lashes. “the little rebel. you look so much more... compliant... when you can't find the words to insult me.”
you tried to snarl, to let out a defiant sound, but it only came out as a choked hum against the steel.
“hmmgh!” you glared at him from below, eyes burning with a silent promise of retribution, but the effect was lost on him. instead of intimidation, your fury seemed to feed his amusement. he watched the way your lips strained around the gun, the way your breath came in shallow, ragged puffs.
“don’t look at me like that,” caleb teased, the thumb of his free hand tracing the curve of your lower lip, just where the gun met your skin. “unless you want me to see just how much of this you can take before you start begging.” he gave the gun another slight, teasing nudge, testing the limits of your endurance. “yeah? you’d hate that, won’t you?”
absolutely.
you had reached your limit. the humiliation was a bitter taste, second only to the oil on the barrel, and your patience snapped like a frayed wire. in a sudden burst of movement, you lunged forward, hands flying up to grasp his wrist. you intended to shove him back, to reclaim the space he was so brazenly invading, but the colonel was obviously a man of iron and discipline. his grip on the sidearm only tightened, the metal clicking as his fingers braced against the frame. his brow furrowed, a stern frown settling over his handsome features.
”enough,” he warned, voice dropping into a low register that signaled the end of his patience. “stop this theater, or i’ll stop being gentle. don’t complain when i decide to pull the trigger right now."
the threat should have made you recoil. it should have sent a tremor of terror through your limbs. but as you stared up at him, the sharp edges of your glare began to melt. you didn’t see a killer; you saw a man. a man who was far too comfortable in his dominance, a man who relied on the fear of his shadow to keep people in line.
if he wants to play the colonel, then you might as well play the siren.
your hands, which had been trying to push him, suddenly softened, as your fingers curled around the solid shaft of the gun. you leaned into the metal, eyes losing fury and replacing it with a hooded liddedness. then, with a deliberate grace, you began to suck on the barrel.
you bobbed your head in a rhythmic, mesmerizing motion, lips sliding over the steel as you looked up at him through your lashes, your gaze a sultry challenge.
caleb, the man who had been so dominant, so utterly in control, froze. his eyes widened, the pupils dilating until the dark iris was nearly swallowed by black. his breath hitched, an audible intake of air that betrayed the sudden jolt to his system. he was speechless to say the least.
who’s in control now?
while you maintained the facade of the seductive captive, your mind was working a different kind of magic. beneath you, hidden by the shadows and the intensity of the moment, your ankles were in constant motion. you worked the metal of the locks, twisting your feet, feeling for the mechanism, trying to find the slight give in the heavy restraints.
and you kept the rhythm steady, your eyes never leaving his, watching the way his composure began to fray at the edges. caleb was fighting a losing battle; you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his throat worked as he swallowed hard, trying to suppress the pained expression that was threatening to break through his mask of authority. the stoic colonel was drowning in the image of your lips on his weapon, and the hunger in his eyes was no longer just about information.
but then...
“so...” he finally spoke, his voice a gravelly, strained shadow of its former self. “this is the real game you’re playing? you aren’t here for the signal... you’re here for this?” he challenged, his gaze burning into yours “are you so desperate for a taste of something real that you'd settle for my gun?”
abruptly, he pulled the gun free from your mouth. the sudden absence of the metal left your lips feeling cold and strangely empty. you watched, mesmerized, as a glistening thread of saliva stretched between your bottom lip and the muzzle, a silver line that shimmered in the dim light before finally snapping. he didn’t look at you as he set the sidearm aside on the table with a thud.
“if you are so eager to satisfy that hunger,” caleb murmured and reached for the waist of his trousers, “then use the real thing, hm?” his fingers caught the tab of his lower zipper, and the sharp zzzzzzt of the metal teeth parting sounded like, to you, a threat.
the sheer audacity of the gesture hit you like a physical blow. your composure, the carefully constructed mask of the seductive prisoner, shattered instantly. a soft, broken gasp escaped your lips, but no words followed.
what the hell? you had expected him to fall for it, but not like this.
you wanted to look away, to reclaim your dignity, but you were like a moth drawn to a terrifying flame.
caleb let his buttons part, and with a triumphant smirk, he revealed himself. your breath immediately hitched, caught in the back of your throat as you stared.
he was massive, an angry, twitching red, incredibly hard and straining with a life of its own, the veins standing out in sharp relief against his skin. there was already a bit of pre-cum leaking out the tip. says a lot about how long he’s been rock hard for you. the sight was overwhelming, making you feel small, vulnerable, and achingly aroused despite yourself.
“go on,” caleb commanded, “suck it. that's an order.”
you swallowed hard, the dryness in your throat making the movement feel clumsy. for a moment, the old defiance flared up again, a desperate attempt to reclaim the high ground. you tilted your head back, eyes narrowing into that sharp glare again as you looked up at him. “is this what a colonel does? is this how you conduct an interrogation?”
caleb takes a heavy step forward, closing the distance until he was looming over you. he reached down to catch your chin in a rough, uncompromising grip that forced your face upward.
“show some respect.”
“i’m not... i’m not going to suck that.” you tried to pull your chin away, to turn your face in a final act of rebellion, but he was too fast.
“that’s okay,” a slow smile spread across his lips as he swiftly pulled your jaw back to his gaze again. “because i’m going to make you.”
you opened your mouth to launch a scathing rebuttal, to tell him exactly where he could shove his arrogance, but the words never made it past your lips. because with a powerful lunge, caleb suddenly guided himself forward, sliding his thick, pulsing cock straight into your mouth! the sheer size of him was overwhelming, stretching your lips to their absolute limit and forcing your jaw to unhinge as he buried himself deep. “hmmph!” an involuntary moan escaped you, muffled by the heavy weight of him.
caleb let out a ragged sigh of relief, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief second as he savored the tight, wet heat of your mouth. he didn’t move to pull out; instead he stayed there, his free hand reaching out to give your cheek a playful caress. “be a good girl,” he whispered, eyes narrowing. “and take it well.”
and then, just like that, the colonel started to thrust, thrust, and thrust—his hips moving in a cadence that drove him deep into your throat! his other hand braced against the back of your chair, knuckles white as he tried to anchor himself, using the furniture to leverage the force of his movements. while you were forced to bob your head in time with him, eyes watering as you struggled to accommodate the relentless pounding of his manhood.
meanwhile, caleb was a moaning mess above you, his voice a breathless thing. “that’s it... j-just like that.” he grunted, words stumbling over one another as he forced you to keep up with his punishing pace. “suck it dry... don’t you dare stop...” he was trying to command you even now, but the cracks in his countenance were widening with every thrust.
so this is the great colonel. all that black leather and discipline, and all it takes is a little bit of heat to turn him into a mess. if he wanted to lose control, you were more than happy to facilitate it.
instead of just taking him, you decided to take him apart. you squeezed your lips tightly around the length and began to twirl your tongue around the rim in a slow, agonizingly deliberate circle. you immediately felt the way his entire body jolted at that.
“ngh...!” caleb let out a loud, guttural grunt, his hips slamming into your mouth now with a desperate, uncoordinated force. he leaned into you so heavily that you had to tilt your head back at a sharp angle just to keep from being crushed, your neck straining under the weight of his need.
he was so damn loud—the man who prided himself on silence and discipline was now making sounds that were almost animalistic.
“god... you’re such a... a good girl.” he gasped, the compliment sounding more like a plea than a praise. ”so good... keep doing that... please...”
his hand, which had been caressing your cheek, suddenly migrated upward to tangle his fingers deep into your hair. he formed a tight fist, his knuckles grazing your scalp as he anchored your head in place, forcing you to stay exactly where he wanted you. his eyes were squeezed shut so tightly that wrinkles formed at the corners.
he felt so good from your blowjob that he had to bite his lower lip hard, teeth sinking into the flesh while a series of rough groans tore from his throat.
seeing him so close to the edge, feeling the way his fingers trembled in your hair, you decided to drive the final nail into the coffin of his composure. as you continued to work your mouth over him, you reached up, hands sliding around the base of his thick shaft. you began to stroke him, palms slick with your own saliva.
and because of that, caleb fucking chokes on his own cries, loud enough to echo in the chamber. he was panting heavily now, chest heaving as he looked down at you with eyes that were glazed and unfocused. “you... you’re a little devil,” he trembled, leaning down further. “a natural... a goddamn natural at this...”
then, the dam finally broke.
with a shuddering jolt that racked his entire frame, caleb erupted.
he surged forward, his hips slamming against your face as he spilled himself into your mouth in thick, hot, unending bursts. the sheer volume of it caught you completely off guard! instinctively, your body recoiled, head jerking back to escape the overwhelming sensation, but he was still coming, still squirting and shooting toward you.
you felt the hot liquid splashing against your cheeks, coating your lips, and even spraying across your chest. there were too much!
caleb slumped forward, his hands slamming onto the back of your chair to steady himself. he was gasping for air, his head hanging low as he fought to reclaim his breath.
you slowly looked up at him, eyes wide and blinking through the stray droplets on your lashes. you didn’t want him to know that your mouth was full because of the heavy, salty taste of him coating your tongue. but you wanted to say something to mock him, to reclaim your victory—you couldn’t you were too busy trying to manage the sheer amount of him currently occupying your mouth, cheeks bulging slightly, hesitant to let it go.
you watch caleb finally lifting his head, clearing his eyes to regain even a sliver of balance as he stared at you.
“swallow it.”
instantly, you shook your head. you weren’t going to make it that easy for him, especially not after he’d just made such a spectacle of himself.
caleb’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint returning to his gaze. he leaned down, his presence once again overwhelming. “pick a struggle. either you swallow it right now, or i’m going to make you turn around.”
you didn’t have time to process the sheer audacity of his command before the instinct to obey or perhaps the instinct to avoid the even more humiliating alternative took over. you tilted your head back and swallowed, the thick, warm liquid sliding down your throat in one heavy gulp.
ugh.
you nearly coughed, eyes watering as you fought to keep the rest of him down.
“satisfied now?” you glared at him once more.
and the colonel could only give you a dog-like smile, zipping his pants back into place while he turned his broad back on you.
“more than satisfied.”
he retrieves the gun from where he’d place it down earlier, facing you again.
18+ MDNI, aged up!megumi, perv!megumi, established relationship, solo masturbation, panty kink.
abstract, fushiguro megumi was doing a perfectly fine job at being your boyfriend. normal, respectful, composed. unfortunately, his dreams, his shikigami, and one very cute missing pair had other plans.
꣑ৎ MEGUMI HAD ALWAYS THOUGHT HE WAS A DECENT PERSON :)
quiet, maybe. emotionally constipated, according to nobara, which felt rude but not entirely false. he was blunt when embarrassed, painfully calm when he didn’t know what to do with his feelings, and weirdly committed to pretending he didn’t care whenever you stole his hoodies, even though he kept leaving them in places you could easily find.
then he started dating you.
and apparently, dating you had reduced him to some sort of victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time.
three months into the relationship, and megumi still acted like your touch needed a warning label. you could kiss his cheek outside the campus library and he would look away like he had just been caught committing tax fraud. you could lean against his side during movie night, warm and sleepy, and his whole body would go still for half a second before he remembered that boyfriends were, in fact, allowed to be held.
you thought it was cute.
megumi thought he needed professional help.
because it wasn’t just the soft things anymore. it was the way your shirt slipped off your shoulder when you stretched. the way your thighs pressed together when you sat on his bed. the way you looked after training, skin warm from the sun, hair messy, laughing with your water bottle pressed to your lips like you weren’t personally dragging his self-control behind a building.
he wanted to be normal about you. really, he did. you were his girlfriend, not some divine punishment sent to test whether his dignity could survive physical affection. you deserved a boyfriend who was calm, respectful, and not quietly combusting every time you hugged him a little too close.
megumi tried very hard to be that boyfriend.
unfortunately, wanting you had started eating through his self-control like a curse with expensive taste.
the dreams came first. vivid, feverish, humiliating things that left him waking up with a harsh gasp, his hips jerking up into the mattress to chase a ghost. your voice would linger near his ear. your skin would press flush against his. your mouth would be somewhere it shouldn’t be yet, sweet and needy and completely unfair. the details always blurred as reality crashed in, but the physical aftermath was painfully clear. he’d snap awake aching and rock hard, his chest heaving in the quiet dark, the front of his sleep pants ruined and uncomfortably sticky. he would just lie there, face burning into his pillow, before dragging himself out of bed to wash the evidence away, feeling like an absolute criminal by morning.
every time, it was you.
of course it was you.
you were his first serious girlfriend. the first person he actually wanted to be good for. the first person who made him think about things he immediately wanted to bury under concrete and never speak of again. maybe, hopefully, someday you would be his first in other ways too.
the thought alone made him shove his face into his pillow and silently consider becoming religious.
oh, he was so cooked.
the worst part started after evening training.
the campus field was still warm from the afternoon sun, grass damp beneath everyone’s shoes, the air filled with the sound of yuji complaining that nobara kept aiming for his head. you had dropped your gym bag near megumi’s by the benches, half-zipped because you never really closed anything properly, then wandered off to refill your water bottle.
megumi had summoned rabbit escape for control practice. nothing serious, just a few white rabbits scattering through the grass while yuji tried not to step on them and nobara accused him of weaponizing cuteness. one of the rabbits, smaller than the rest and apparently born with no morals, hopped toward your open bag.
megumi saw the flash of pink before anyone else did.
his body went very still.
the rabbit tugged something soft from the side pocket and sat there proudly, your panties caught between its little teeth like it had just won a prize.
megumi moved so fast he almost tripped.
he scooped the rabbit up, turned his back to the field, and pulled the fabric away before yuji could glance over. his heart was beating too hard for something that was, technically, laundry. just laundry. normal laundry. laundry that absolutely should have gone straight back into your bag like a normal boyfriend with a normal brain would do.
“don’t,” he whispered to the rabbit.
the rabbit blinked.
you called his name from across the field, smiling as you lifted your water bottle. “gumi, you okay?”
megumi panicked.
he shoved the fabric into the pocket of his track jacket.
“yeah,” he called back, voice flat enough to pass as normal if nobody looked too closely. “fine.”
just for now, he told himself. he would put it back later. when nobody was looking. when his pulse stopped acting like he had robbed a bank.
꣑ৎ DECENT PERSON, MY ASS.
that night the dorm room was too quiet. megumi sat on the edge of his bed with the lights off, only the faint glow from the campus path outside slipping through the blinds. the pink panties were still in his pocket. he hadn’t even taken his jacket off yet. his fingers brushed the soft fabric when he finally reached in, and the second he pulled them out his stomach flipped.
he should throw them back in the drawer. he should wash them. he should do anything except what he was about to do.
instead he leaned back against the pillows, breath already shaky, and unfolded the delicate pink material. the little bow caught on his thumb. the scent of you—warm skin, faint floral detergent, the ghost of your body—hit him so hard his cock twitched instantly in his sweats.
“fuck… i’m sorry,” he muttered, like you could hear him. like apologizing to the empty room would make this less pathetic.
he shoved his sweats and boxers down just enough, his cock springing free, already flushed and leaking. he wrapped the panties around his length slowly, the silky fabric cool against hot skin, and the first stroke pulled a quiet, broken sound from his throat. the little bow dragged under the head and his hips jerked up without permission.
megumi closed his eyes and let the thoughts flood in.
he imagined you in his lap, thighs spread over his, wearing nothing but that exact pair. the way you’d smile at him all teasing and fond when you felt how hard he was. the way you’d rock against him, grinding the soft fabric right against his cock while you kissed that spot under his jaw that always made him weak. your voice in his ear, low and sweet, calling him “gumi” like you knew exactly what you did to him.
his hand moved faster, twisting a little at the head, the soaked panties sliding obscenely over his shaft. pre-cum darkened the pink almost immediately. he pictured pushing the fabric aside, sliding his fingers through your slick folds instead, hearing that tiny gasp you made whenever he touched you somewhere new. he wanted to bury his face between your thighs and stay there until you were shaking. wanted to hear you moan his name while he finally pushed inside you, slow and careful and so fucking deep.
“shit— you’d feel so so hng g-good,” he whispered, voice hoarse. his strokes turned messy, desperate. the wet sound of fabric and skin filled the room and it only made him harder. “so warm… so tight… f-fuck, i want you so bad—”
the guilt twisted sharp in his chest, but it only made the heat worse. he was disgusting. he was a terrible boyfriend. and still, he couldn’t stop. he pressed the panties tighter in his fist, close enough to feel the soft fabric against his palm, imagining your hand instead, your mouth, the way you’d look up at him with that bright, wicked little smile while you took him apart.
his thighs tensed. his free hand fisted the sheets. when he felt himself getting close, some ridiculous, half-functioning part of his brain still had the nerve to panic.
not on them.
megumi jerked the fabric away at the last second like it was something precious, something he had no right to ruin, and buried his face into his forearm as the feeling hit him hard and sudden. his hips stuttered, breath breaking into a choked sound he barely managed to swallow, body trembling through every shaky wave until the room went quiet again.
for a long moment, he just lay there, chest heaving, staring at the ceiling like it might offer judgment. it didn’t, duh.
which was rude, honestly.
the pink panties were still clutched safely in his hand, untouched and soft, still carrying that faint trace of your perfume, your laundry soap, you. megumi looked at them through half-lidded eyes, flushed and ruined and still careful enough to fold them against his chest like that somehow made any of this less insane.
megumi, once again, told himself he would return it before this got any worse.
꣑ৎ JOKE’S ON YOU.
by the next afternoon, it had gotten worse.
not because of the drills, though they were annoying. not because yuji kept trying to turn sparring into a competition no one had agreed to. worse because you were sitting beside megumi on the bench, digging through your gym bag with a frown while he wrapped tape around his wrist and pretended the top drawer in his dorm didn’t exist.
“this is actually so annoying,” you said.
megumi kept his eyes on the tape. “what is?”
“my new pink pair is gone.” you pushed aside your towel, lip gloss, and spare shirt with growing offense. “i swear i put it in here after changing yesterday. it had a little bow and everything. very cute. now it’s missing.”
megumi’s fingers paused for one single heartbeat.
“maybe you left it in your room.”
“i checked.” you sighed like you had suffered a real tragedy. “twice. i think the campus laundry ghosts have chosen me.”
“sorry for your loss.”
“thank you. i’ll need snack compensation.”
“for underwear?”
“for emotional damage.”
he looked at you then, and you looked so genuinely annoyed that guilt twisted through him, sharp and hot. you weren’t suspicious. you weren’t accusing him. you were just talking to him the way you always did, dragging him into your little complaints because he was your boyfriend and that was supposed to mean something simple and safe.
megumi swallowed.
he would return it tonight.
probably.
training picked up again after that, saving him from having to speak. the two of you sparred under the sun until sweat slid down the side of his face and his black shirt stuck lightly to his back. you were quick today, playful, laughing whenever he dodged too easily and calling him a show-off when he pinned your wrist for half a second longer than necessary.
by the time you both stopped, megumi was warm, tired, and dangerously close to forgetting how to act normal.
he turned away and lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.
the movement exposed his stomach.
you went quiet.
megumi lowered the fabric just enough to see you staring, eyes fixed on the lean lines of muscle along his abdomen and the sharp dip disappearing beneath the waistband of his sweats. your expression changed slowly, surprise melting into something bright and wicked.
“wow, ’gumi,” you said, stepping closer. “i didn’t know you had nice abs.”
his whole body locked. “don’t say it like that.”
“like what?”
“like you’re enjoying this.”
“i am enjoying this.”
that should not have affected him as much as it did.
you reached for him before he could escape, fingertips brushing the exposed skin near his ribs. megumi’s breath hitched so quietly he prayed you didn’t hear it. your touch slid lower, still teasing, still light, tracing the firm plane of his stomach until your fingers grazed the line near his hip.
his body betrayed him immediately.
megumi caught your wrist, quick but gentle, and shifted his hips back just enough to save what remained of his dignity. you blinked up at him, then smiled like you had just discovered something valuable and planned to become a menace about it.
“sensitive?” you asked.
“annoying,” he said, voice too low.
“you’re blushing.”
“it’s hot outside.”
“mhm.” your eyes flicked down for half a second. “sure.”
he was going to die on this field.
then yuji’s voice cut through the air like divine punishment. “are you two flirting or are we training?”
megumi let go of your wrist so fast it was embarrassing.
you only laughed, bright and shameless, before stepping back like you hadn’t just put him through five stages of grief in public. nobara, of course, saw enough to make her grin sharp.
“they’re flirting,” she said. “badly, but still.”
“we’re training,” megumi muttered.
“sure,” you said, attempting to tease him. “whatever helps you sleep at night.”
it did not help him sleep at night.
꣑ৎ SPICE UP UR LIFE, COME GET A FREAK LIKE ME(GUMI)...
later that day, after practice ended, megumi returned to his dorm alone and opened the top drawer. he stared at the folded pink fabric tucked beneath one of his shirts. outside his window, campus lights glowed soft and yellow. on his desk, his phone buzzed.
y/n: still mourning the pink pair </3
y/n: she was cute, she was soft, she was taken too soon ☹
y/n: snack compensation tomorrow? ✌︎㋡
megumi stared at the message until the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.
then he looked at the drawer again. “i’m a terrible person,” he muttered.
from the corner of the room, one of the rabbits twitched its nose like it agreed.
he should have shut the drawer. he really should have.
instead, megumi opened it again, slow enough that the wood barely made a sound. the pink fabric sat folded beneath one of his shirts, soft and damning, carrying the faintest trace of your scent. his fingers curled around it before he could talk himself out of it, and for one shameful second, he pressed the fabric directly over his nose and mouth. his eyes fell shut as he dragged in a long desperate breath.
your scent—warm, sweet, and intoxicatingly familiar—flooded his lungs, pulling a low, ragged groan from the back of his throat. his knuckles turned white as his grip tightened.
oh, he was disgusting.
worse than that, he was hopeless.
because for all his restraint, all his discipline, all his quiet little attempts to be the perfect boyfriend you deserved, fushiguro megumi had one serious problem.
