“Just…move them to the side..,” you whispered in the cramped dressing room.
Zayne made an exasperated sound, but once you heard the lock click, a victorious smile split across your lips. “I thought I was only helping with the zipper…,” he groaned, his breath warm on the back of your neck. Oh, the dress, of course. The little black number that was tight as sin, cut above the knee, strapless—easily accessible.
The dress that no longer mattered after feeling the graze of Zayne’s finger tips down your bare back. He was only reaching for the zipper, really. Only trying to help. “You were, then you got handsy,” you retorted, pressed against the mirror. His nose swept across your shoulder, trailed up the length of your neck. Jasmine, vanilla, the natural scent of your skin. His olfactory senses were flooded, pants uncomfortably tight.
“If we get caught…,” he warned.
“We won’t, just cover my—mnph!”
Before another attitude-stained word could escape, Zayne cupped a hand over your mouth, just firm enough to make you whine behind it. “Shhh…now, isn’t this what you wanted?” His voice was deep, silky. Fingers from his free hand curled into the hem of the dress, slipping it over the curve of your ass. He palmed one cheek, humming with admiration, before reaching between your thighs. “Wet already, hm?”
Hazel eyes met your gaze in the mirror’s reflection, you nodded, trying to grind against his fingers. The hand around your mouth tightened a fraction, “mm-mm, behave.”
Zayne slowly rubbed over the ruined gusset, soaked with arousal. The friction was tortuous, yet intoxicating. “You know…I do appreciate how ready you get for me,” he praised, tugging your panties to the side. “At this rate, you’ll make a mess of my hand.”
A choked moan was muffled from behind his hand. He sank inside with such ease, not an ounce of resistance. “Don’t close your eyes, keep them on me,” he instructed, his emerald pools darkening.
“Such a naughty…naughty girl. Although I’m no better for indulging you,” Zayne’s voice was a blend of honey and ice. Warm in your ear, yet stern as his fingers curled inside you. “Want…more,” you murmured, your pleas still muffled behind his palm.
“Greedy…,” he groaned, pulling the hand on your mouth away, reaching for his belt. The metal clicked, leather hissed through each belt loop and landed on the floor with a thump. To keep the moan in your throat from escaping, you bit down on your inner cheek. His crown dragged through your folds, eliciting a groan from Zayne’s chest. “God, you’re so…mmh.”
Fog crawled across the mirror from your heated breath, each pant becoming deeper and impatient. “Please, need you.”
You shared a shuddered gasp as he pushed inside, “stay quiet.”
Nodding obediently, you hiked one leg on the bench in front of you. This gave Zayne better access, a fuller view of your heated connection. The mirror was cool against your warm skin, handprints smeared where you tried to grip for purchase.
“There’s something thrilling about stepping out of line, god the idea of getting caught is making you clench so tight,” he rasped. His hands curled around your waist, thrusts firm and even. The hum of the overhead music just barely obscured the wet sound of slapping skin.
“So full, baby, fuck…,” you whined, legs wobbly as you neared bliss.
Zayne’s fingers met your clit, puffy and aching for friction. The pads of his fingers worked in slow, devastating cirlcles, almost pulling a cry from your throat.
“Shhh, you’re almost there. I can feel it,” he soothed, planting soft kisses to the back of your neck. Words abandoned you now, but Zayne filled the empty spaces with praise.
“So good for me...”
“…Being quiet even while I fuck you like the bad girl you are…”
He caught your eyes in the mirror, dragged a thumb through the drool collecting on your lips. You always looked so pretty like this. Gaze glossed over, skin warm and flushed, mouth agape. He curled two fingers inside it, you sucked them on instinct, the action sent fluttering pulses through Zayne’s length.
“Just like that angel, cum for me.”
Your insides were coiled tight, begging to snap, a single bead of sweat rolled down the valley of your spine. The thrill this sent beneath your skin was like ecstasy, each nerve ending tingled with life.
When you finally came, Zayne’s hand made its way over your mouth once more, catching the muffled moans of his name before they would rattle the thin dressing room walls. You pulled him in deep, gasping as his cum filled you to the brim.
His weight slumped against your back, breath warm as it fanned over your shoulder. “Satisfied?,” he whispered.
“Mhm,” you hummed.
Zayne eased out of you gently, sliding your panties back in place to catch your combined fluids. They would be ruined by the time you made it back to the car.
“The dress is perfect, by the way. Stunning,” Zayne mused, eyes soft as he watched you redress.
A smile spread across your face, “thank you, I was on the fence about it but,” you giggled, grabbing the hanger off the hook. “Now I feel obligated to buy it, we’ve already broken it in.”
Zayne’s expression grew smug, that one millimeter tick of his lips that could only mean mischief. “Not exactly.”
Your brows knitted with confusion, “huh?”
“It won’t be broken in until it’s lying on the bedroom floor after tonight’s banquet.”
“Zayne—!”
But before you could scold him further, he was already walking to the check stand, dress hanging over his arm, card out and ready to pay.
I mean, he wasn’t exactly wrong, though.
*~*~*
a/n: these freaks lol
Thank you for reading! :) Likes, comments and reblogs are always welcome and appreciated. Please do not plagiarize, repost or feed into ai.
Hornybf!Caleb who delights in teasing you before penetration. Making you drag your wet pussy along his length, obsessed with the sight of your glistening, puffy lips spreading around his cock and your cute clit being pushed upwards every time you move back down.
Hornybf! Caleb who has an intense love for the taste of your cunt. He spends hours feasting between your legs, tonguing and spitting on your pussy until it's drenched in his saliva and your arousal. He enjoys the flavor of it so much that he slurps the frothy blend and spatters it back repeatedly.
Hornybf! Caleb who doesn't miss an opportunity to fuck you, even when he works from home. He positions you under his desk on your knees, manspreading so his cock aligns perfectly with your pussy. You are left to fuck yourself on his dick while he focuses on his work, sneaking glances at the sight of your tight hole being speared open on his lenght. Occasionally, he drags a finger along the milky ring at the base of his cock, sucking it into his mouth to taste.
Hornybf! Caleb who prefers the 69 position over you being on your knees to give him head. Wanting you to be comfortable while sucking his dick, aaaaand he gets to simultaneously eat your pussy and ass while you suffocate him with your soft thighs.
Hornybf! Caleb whose favorite pastime is dry humping, especially when you wear his favorite yellow panties adorned with that tiny apple print positioned perfectly over your clit. Boxers leaking pearly sticky cum when he moves your hips just right over his cock.
Hornybf! Caleb who turns feral by the sight of your tummy bulging when he fucks you hard and deep. Pressing on your belly to feel the outline of his cock moving inside you. This drives him to fuck you even harder, making you squirt and gush all over his abs and balls as you cum on his fat dick.
Hornybf! Caleb who eagerly complies when you ask him to show you how he used to masturbate before you started your relationship. In a surprising and arousing move, Caleb grabs the panties you were wearing and brings them to his nose, deeply inhaling. As he does so, he begins to stroke his length, the sweet smell of your panties triggering a flood of lustful memories and fantasies.
I have so many more of these but I got lazy. There will be a part 3 🥴🩷
I'll be working on HornyAcademicrival! Zayne Part 2. 🧠
♡ kinktober day 16: squirting
♡ rafayel x reader
♡ 18+
“Wait…no one’s ever made you cum?”
Rafayel genuinely tried not to bust out laughing when you told him. It wasn’t that the situation was funny, it was the conclusion that this fact led you to that he found comical.
“So lemme get this straight. No one else has made you cum before, and you think it’s because something is wrong with you?” He was genuinely perplexed that this was your takeaway from the series of events. You really did believe it too, at least until now—when he had your legs pinned back, his tongue circling your clit so slow that it was agonizing to watch.
“Please…” you whined, not even sure what you were begging for at this point. All you knew was that you needed more.
“Please what, angel? Don’t tell me you need to cum again already. Don’t you think you’re just being greedy now?” It was true, you’d cum so many times you’d lost count— on his fingers, on his cock, on his tongue twice already. Your brain was so foggy, only able to focus on how pretty Rafayel looked as his full lips brushed against your swollen clit, his face covered in your juices.
“Yes—fuck, please, make me cum again. I need it soooo bad.” He hummed in approval, the vibrations only making you squirm under his grasp.
“Make you cum? It’s not like it’s been taking much effort, baby. You’re almost a little too easy. I wish you’d give me a little more of a challenge. Try to make me work for this one, just a little bit, yeah, angel?” he whispered, eyes locked on yours as he stuck out his tongue, letting his saliva drip out of his mouth, literally drooling over your pussy. You almost came from the sight alone. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, little moans escaping your lips.
“Ohhh you really liked that, huh, baby? You’re so cute—I’m not even touching you and you’re already about to cum for me. You must like me a lot—is that it? Does it turn you on to see me taste you, angel? You wanna cum on my face again, hm?” You were barely listening any longer, trying your best to keep from cumming as the swiped the flat of his tongue across your slit, licking up his spit and your juices, slurping and sucking on your clit soooo good.
“Aw do you hear that baby? Listen to the sounds you make when I stick my tongue inside—fuckkk you taste so sweet. You want me to rub your clit? Yeah? Like this?” He was talking to himself at this point, just loving the way your moans got louder each time he spoke so close to your cunt. You were so desperate to cum—but something felt different this time. There was an urgency to the sensation.
“Wait wait wait—“ you reached your hand out, trying to push his head away for just a second. Your attempt was unsuccessful, as he simply pulled your hand away, entangling his finger with yours.
“You wanted to hold my hand—that’s so adorable. Letting me hold this pretty hand while I eat this pussy for you…you’re so precious,” he cooed, pressing soft kisses around your entrance before sticking his tongue inside again.
“Nooo no I feel like I’m gonna pee,” you protested. All he could do was giggle, knowing what this was all too well.
“You’re not gonna pee. Relax—you’re okay, baby.” His thumb rubbed your clit even faster now, the slickness of your cunt making it harder for him to keep the sensitive button under his touch.
“Rafayel, seriously I have to pee. I’m not joking—it’s gross. I don’t wanna—“
“I think you’re gonna squirt, angel. This little hole keeps trying to push my tongue out. It’s okay, let it go for me.” The pressure was becoming unbearable, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as the heat between your legs grew with every lick.
“Piss, squirt—Isn't it the same thing? I don’t think—“
“Okay, so what?” he asked, bringing his head up for a second, stilling his fingers. “I don’t care what it is. All I know is that it’s mine. So give it to me,” he wasn’t suggesting anymore. He was demanding. His fingers slid inside of you effortlessly, curling and thrusting and tapping against your g-spot rhythmically.
“Stop thinking about it. Just let go—I got you. I want it. Please give me your cum, baby. I wanna taste you again so bad. Fuckkkk—yes, you’re doing so good, baby. Just like that. Cum for me, pretty girl.” Just then, as his tongue came back down onto your clit, you felt it.
“Oh my god, baby. Yessss just like that. Go ahead—push my fingers out with your cum. Do a good job for me, yeah?” The second Rafayel’s fingers slid back out, you exploded. The prettiest whines he’d ever heard escaped your lips as he held your thighs apart to keep you from clamping down around his hand.
“Gooood girl. That’s it—keep cumming for me. So fucking pretty like this.” He watched in awe, his palm rubbing your juices back onto your cunt, his wrist dripping with your wetness.
“Breathe… shhhh, you’re okay. See—I told you it wasn’t pee. You made such a big mess for me, huh, baby?” he whispered, amused, as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, watching in awe as you shook and twitched beneath him.
“Where the fuck did you learn to do that?” you asked, gasping between words as you tried to catch your breath.
“I told you, angel. You’re easy to make cum—nothing wrong with you at all. You’re perfect… so is this pussy.” You whined as he leaned back down to roll his tongue over your clit again. He could feel your thighs bucking against his face.
“Shhh… let me clean you up, baby. If you squirt on my face again—that’ll just be a bonus. Thank you for letting me make you feel good, baby. What a sweet girl—my angel who can’t stop cumming for me.”
♡ masterlist
♡ a/n: y'all are lucky i'm unemployed bc i have so much time on my hands to finish these LMAO. i kinda like being forced to write something different every day... i have gotten freakier and more creative over this time period. kissesss xx
[Quick drabble about lazy morning sex with Zayne because I woke up in a lustful, groggy haze, thinking of my Big Snowman.]
As always, 🔞MDNI🔞
This was a quick write, hardly edited. Sorry in advance.
~~~
In the soft twilight of the morning…before the sun rises you feel warm hands snake around the curve of your waist to press against the soft flesh of your belly. On the cusp of sleep and consciousness, you stir under Zayne’s soft touch, fingertips feather light as they graze against fluttering flesh. You sigh softly, hips shifting back toward his warmth, feeling safe in the protection of his arm’s embrace. Zayne doesn’t speak as you coo and murmur, soft sighs falling from pouty lips. He smiles, placing soft kisses on the nape of your neck, moving your hair to the side to scent you where your sweetness tickles his nose.
“Hmm, good morning,” Zayne, murmurs between lippy kisses, voice laced thickly with sleep and a lilt of something enticing. You whimper in response to his morning greeting, recognizing from the low timbre of his voice and the way his body moves closer to yours what he wants.
His hands move downward, making your tummy flutter. “Mm, does this tickle?” He asks, chuckling.
Air hitches in your throat when you feel his nimble fingers ghost over your pelvis where a small stylized snowflake is tattooed. You couldn’t count the hours Zayne had clocked kissing that little snowflake, his fascination with it endless. Slowly, his hand slip to your mound and then even lower—his thigh nudging between yours— as you acquiesce, lifting your knee in silent invitation. Slick seeps out, coating his digits as Zayne traces your slit—up and down strokes teasing—until sinking deeper between your folds seeking the hidden pearl beneath.
His name tumbles from your lips like a benediction, the curl of his lips you know to be present even though your back is pressed firmly against his chest. Zayne’s fingers bathe in your warm honey, the sticky sound of your arousal filling the silence of the morning hour.
You hear Zayne’s inhale—a deep draw of air into his lungs to imprint your sweet scent in his nose and on his tongue.
“Sweet in every way,” you hear Zayne whisper enticingly in your ear as his finger finds its way inside your dewy depth working in and out until a second slips in. Your quiet sighs and whimpers are the sweetest symphony, your head turning to capture his lips in a languid kiss that matches his fingers’ stokes in and out of you.
The ache for more grows with each passing second and Zayne can sense this. Can feel it in the way you arch your back against him, in the way you clinch around his exploring fingers. And when your hand covers his to urge him deeper, a low chuckle rumbles from deep within his chest.
Zayne pulls back from your eager mouth, your hand finding the dark strands of silken hair at the back of his head. He smiles down at you, eyes dark not only with desire, but filled with revelry. You nuzzle into his skin as he lifts your knee drawing it up toward your chest. In this position you’re completely open and vulnerable to him as you both lay on your sides.
For a moment all you hear are your breaths mingling between the thump of your hearts, as you guide his length inside of you. Time stops for a beat as Zayne slowly fills you up inch by inch, his lips finding yours again as you accept him into your warm sheath. The grip his hand has on the back of your thigh tightens as he bottoms out, his lip pulling away fractionally just to hone in on the feel of you as he begins slow and steady stokes of his dick into you.
“Hah, Zayne!” you cry out against his lips as his speed picks up, a low moan swallowed by yet another ardent kiss. Your hand replaces his to keep your knee up and his hand settles around the base of your throat as his thrusts deepen. Your beautiful breasts bob with every collide of his hips into your rear, your head lolling back onto his chest as he fucks up into your core so deeply his tip nudges the mouth of your cervix.
“Such a good girl for me. Always my good girl,” Zayne praises as you take him fully and deeply. You clinch up tight as the pressure builds in your lower belly and he feels that too. He could always read your body just as well as you could your own.
“Mm-hmm, come for me, petal.” Zayne holds your body in a firm grip, his arms completely encircling you as his hips buck forward, mercilessly. You release your leg, but keep it up, bent at the knee, so you could rub your clit in time to his persistent strokes.
“Hnngh, Zayne!” You cry out as you completely unravel around him. Zayne fucks you through your release, sending you into higher realms of euphoria—his body coiled tight as his hips piston even faster. His breaths shudder as he huffs from his exertions, beautiful moans tumbling from perfect lips.
“Can I?” He ask, never too far gone to pardon consent.
“Yes. Come inside me. Please…”
He rolls you onto your stomach, his body covering yours as his hips snap again, the sound of wet skin and the smell of sex filling the air. He glides effortlessly into you, hips rolling erotically as if he were made just to take you like this. One hand steadies his weight as the other takes your hip in a bruising grip before you feel jets of his warm seed coat your inner walls. And even then his hips don’t stop, shaft still hard after his release, his dick smoothly working in and out of your core as the mixed evidence of your completions glaze where your bodies are joined.
Zayne stays buried in you a moment longer where it’s soft and warm and safe, placing delicate kisses on your shoulders and between your shoulder blades. He carefully slips out of you before rolling you both back over on your sides and you immediately miss having him fill you so completely and perfectly.
“Mm, morning, Zaynie.” Zayne chuckles at the silly pet name you lovingly bestowed him.
“Good morning again, darling,” he responds, tone light and free of the tension often heard laced within it.
His phone buzzed then and he sighs , glancing down at the brown leather and gold wrist watch that ticks silently, each tiny analogue movement of the timepiece mocking the dwindling moments you have left together. A sigh escapes your lips as well as you move to pull away, but Zayne holds you fast in his embrace.
“No, stay. The world can wait,” he murmurs into your ear, kissing its shell softly. “Stay with me…just a while longer.”
And so you settle back in his arms, feeling his heart thud strong against your back. You lazily trace manicured fingertips over the ghost of scars riddling his forearms—scars you find beautiful despite their history.
A while longer was never long enough, but in the quietude of the moments after dawn breaks you both revel in each other’s arms, happy to let the world wait…just a little while longer.
I can’t get this idea out of my switchy little head where one night Sylus allows you to try something you’ve been wanting to do for a while. And because, in my mind, Sylus is a switch too, he allows you to rim him…
Saw a fan art and got i s p i r e d . I hope you enjoy the depravities of my mind. ♥️
Cred. to @bhaalbaaby on X for her incredible NSFW art. Please support her!
Midnight Delicacy
Rating: Explicit | Word Count: 1,661
It happens after long day—of you battling Wanderers and him leading Onychinus with concluding serval deals, heists…lives. But, he notices this look in your eyes as you watch him naked, with only a towel covering his waist snugly, after your shower together.
“I know that look, kitten. What’s going on in that head of yours?” Sylus’s voice is deep and languid has he dries his wet hair with another towel, small crystalline droplets falling from the spiked tips of silver-grey strands onto his shoulders and rolling down his body. You meet his gaze in the full length mirror as you approach him from behind, your own towel concealing the shapely contours of your body.
“How do you know me so well?” You smile, wrapping your arms around his slutty waist that truly takes up far too much of your headspace during the day.
“Hmm, I just do. Now, out with it, sweetie.” You smile fiendishly as your nimble fingers toy with the loose knot situated at the base of his navel.
“What if I told you I wanted to try something new?” Sylus smiles, patiently waiting for you to expound upon your thoughts. “Would you let me rim you?” Sylus’s brow quirks up, intrigued at your request, a rich chuckle rumbling from his wide chest.
“And exactly, how long has this been on your mind?” You worry your lip at his question, concerned you finally crossed that invisible line Sylus swore didn’t exist between the two of you. You shrug your shoulders, hand falling from the towel’s knot. But, he catches your wrist, bringing it back where it was, meeting your eyes again in the mirror. “I didn’t say no, kitten.”
“You didn’t say yes, either.” Sylus turns to face you, your head barely clearing the wide expanse of his chest and shoulders.
“Part of a kitten’s charm is their boundless curiosity,” Sylus speaks, gently encircling your wrist in his large hand has he walks backward toward his bed. “And who am I to deny any exploration my kitten seeks?” Your heart races as he lets the towel drop to the floor before sitting down on the edge of the bed. “My body is your playground to explore. All you need do is ask whenever you want to take a journey. Now, how do you want me, sweetie?”
Your heart races taking in Sylus in all his glory, and you thank every lucky star in the universe for leading him to you. Your own towel drops in a crumpled heap atop his on the dark carpeted floor, as you crawl onto black satin sheets, cool and smooth. Sylus’s garnet gaze roams freely over the peaks and valleys of your body, his dick already half hard just from drinking you in.
“Lay back on the pillows,” you say, voice small in your request. This was your idea, why be shy now? Sylus lifts his scarred knuckles to your chin, offering an encouraging smile.
“Yes, mistress,” he says simply, following your direction and lying back on the mountain of down-filled pillows propped against the black leather upholstered headboard. Your stomach dips at the sight of the mighty leader of Onychinus bending to your will. He settles back comfortably, an arm resting behind his head, one knee bent as he leaves the other outstretched on the bed.
“I like the sound of being called your mistress.” You let the title roll off your tongue—wicked—and drawing more confidence by the second. You consider for a moment binding Sylus’s wrists with the black silk ties hidden in the nightstand situated on the side of the bed, but ultimately decide against it. Baby steps, you think to yourself. Very rarely do people run before they even crawl. You clear your mind of everything but Sylus as you place gentle kisses all over his body, from the tips of his ears to the tops of his muscular thighs. A particularly ragged breath from his lips force your eyes to meet his again as you kiss up the base of his swollen length to his leaking crown.
“How could I forget? Kittens also like to toy with their prey, mine especially—“ Sylus’s strained words are interrupted by a guttural groan as you take him between your soft lips, mouth bobbing up and down steadily until his toes curl and fist grips the sheets tightly. “Mistress…” he grits a warning, breathless and completely decadent.
You take mercy on Sylus, releasing his throbbing dick from your greedy mouth with a lewd pop and it slaps wetly against his lower abdomen, heavy with blood flow and leaking pre. You shift comfortably down between his legs, lying on your belly to align your mouth with his sack and perineum, smooth and perfect. He makes room for you, opening his legs, the scent of luxury body wash and his skin infiltrating your nostrils, making your mouth absolutely water.
“Lift your knees and hold them with your hands for me,” you command, with a lilt to your voice that is affirmative, but gently unyielding. And Sylus acquiesces without reservation, seemingly as excited as you are about what’s to come if the pool of slick collecting on his lower abdomen is any indicator. And when his knees are to his chest, your eyes are bless with a sight so pretty, so intimate and vulnerable, your heart stutters. A perfectly pristine ring of dusky rose skin greets you, a sigh leaving Sylus’s lips when your breath ghosts against his puckered hole. You place soft kisses on the undersides of his thighs, peeking around until your eyes meet again.
“Promise you’ll say if you want me to stop, ok?” A lopsided grin forms on Sylus’s perfect lips, his eyes warm with endearment.
“I will, but I think I’ll manage…mistress.”
That’s all the consent you need as you part the globes of his ass to reveal more of his sensitive area. Slowly, you take your first tastes of him, a kiss preceding your tongue that licks tentatively. You are oddly aware of your surroundings—the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall, the soft neoclassical piano that constantly plays lowly in the background, how the back of Sylus’s head crashes against his pillows as the tip of your tongue makes contact with this virgin part of his body for the first time. His skin is fresh and heady and you want more…
You lick a fat stripe over his opening, testing how the texture of his skin feels against your tongue. You hear Sylus’s breaths, once steady, begin to elevate with each passing moment, and when you swirl your tongue in spirals around his center you hear a low groan tumble from his lips. You pull your mouth away to blow cool air on the moistened skin and you witness, first hand, Sylus clenching around nothing.
“Don’t stop, Mistress Kitten. Feels…good.” You peek between his legs up at the glorious sight Sylus makes; legs open for you, dick straining and wet, head thrown back as his mouth falls open to release throaty moans. You resume your midnight delicacy, flicking and circling your tongue around his asshole before breaching that tight little ring. “Mmm, fuck…you’re going to end me.”
Reaching up, you cup the supple skin of his sack before working your palm over the thick base. You stroke Sylus in time with the messy laps of your tongue, his skin slick with your saliva. You let a pearly glob of spit slip from your lips, eyes watching as it trails down, fascinated by its journey. Before the fluid reaches the sheets you guide it back to Sylus’s hole with your tongue where you suck and lick at the skin with fervor.
You feel Sylus’s muscles tense as your strokes increase, targeting just the fat tip of his dick, beautifully bruised and slick with his precum, and you know he’s moments away from release. Low growls bubble from his chest as Sylus’s taunt body twitches from your relentless mouth and hand; his breaths punching out with each exhale.
“I can’t hold back. Let me come, mistress…please.” Your own pussy aches, slick wetting your thighs and the sheets at how aroused you are at the sight of Sylus coming apart. There would be time to take care of your own needs later, now was about Sylus.
“Mmm, yes come for me, Sylus,” you breathed between the plush valley of his ass cheeks as your hand pumps his dick, tongue fucking his asshole like there is no tomorrow. And then you hear an almost whiny moan—higher in pitch, breathy and overall uncharacteristic of the man under you—before hot, pearly ribbons of cum shoot onto Sylus chin, chest and belly before pooling into cooled globs around your closed fist still gripping the head, milking.
After a moment Sylus lowers his legs down onto the mattress. Limbs long and heavy flank your body as he swipes at the splatters of white that landed impressively under his bottom lip, chest heaving with each breath. He stares at the evidence of his release coating his fingertips before targeting his sights down his body on you.
“Come here, kitten.” And you do without hesitation, cleaning his soiled fingers before seeking his mouth for a deep kiss—slow and passionate. You moan against him, your own body screaming for its own release—and Sylus senses this—by the needy press of your breasts against his chest, the way your core drags across his muscular thighs.
“Worked yourself into a frenzy, sweetie?” Sylus teases as you smile sheepishly up at the man who holds all of your heart.
“Maybe,” you smiled, “But did you like the… um…?” Sylus chuckles at your timid questioning, the deep timbre of his voice resonating in your own chest. His eyes glance down at the mess stuck between both your torsos.
“I think we both know the answer to your question, Mistress Kitten.”
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary: Zayne finally has the opportunity to spend a Halloween passing out candy for treat or treat with MC, but when she surprises him with matching costumes one thing leads to another.
Word count: 4,729
Rating: Explict 🔞 mdni
Zayne was a patient man, always had been. So, when you invited him to hand out Halloween candy to the kids in your apartment complex, he acquiesced, part of him curious as to how the process worked in real life. Sure, he’d assisted in handing out candy to patients in Akso’s Children’s ward during the holiday, but never in this capacity. It would be refreshing to witness kids bounding down the halls, going door to door collecting treats their parents would later sneak rations off of after bedtime.
A knock on your door made your heart skip a beat as you placed a carrot orange beak over your nose and waddled to the door. Upon opening it Zayne froze, his eyes couldn’t help but run an amused sweep over the oversized black and white penguin costume you wore. He coughed down suppressed laughter as he took in your ridiculously cute costume choice.
“Don’t you like?” You asked giving a little spin, making sure to throw in more waddling for good measure.
“Hmm,” Zayne’s hummed, knuckles curled under his chin as he assessed your appearance as if it were a complex medical case.
“I must say it is a cute, albeit very unique, choice of costume. I do like it, however. Very much.”
You beamed, smile spreading beneath the beak that took up half your face as you stepped aside to allow Zayne to enter your apartment.
“Good, because the costume came as a matched set.” He turned back and handed you a shopping bag filled with spices apple cider and candied pears. His eyebrow arched again, the expression subtle but definitely not gone unnoticed by you.
“It came as a…matched set?” Zayne repeated with a sigh as his thumb and forefinger pinched the bridge of his nose to sooth the growing tension that suddenly manifested as you held up a slightly larger version of the same costume you’d donned. Everything from the oversized pear shape frame of the penguin regalia down to the orange beak and flippers were absolutely offensive to the doctor’s eyes. And dignity.
But Zayne was a patient man, always had been…right?
“It’s cute, yes?”
“It’s…not ugly…?” was his response without missing a beat.
And when you poked your lip out adorably, batting your lashes and wagged that damn penguin get up before his eyes as if it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing for a world renowned surgeon—a grown man—to be wearing, he knew he was doomed.
Zayne changed in your bedroom as you prepared a huge plastic cauldron filled to the brim with various candies and trinkets for kids to pick from, the sheer thought of seeing smiles on their small faces as they filled their bags brought extreme joy to your heart, even more so because you’d be sharing the evening with Zayne.
Your bedroom door’s hinges creaked softly as Zayne emerged from the space, chin held high, scowl in place. You couldn’t stop the chuckle that snuck by your lips if your last breath depended on it.
“Why, Dr. Zayne—“
“Don’t patronize me,” but there was a hint of a curl at the corners of his mouth as he saw the mirth that shone in your eyes.
“I’d never do such a thing! Here’s a peace offering for being such a sport?” You unwrapped a piece of chocolate, brung it to his lips. He gladly accepted your sweet offering, his verdant gaze never leaving yours as milk chocolate exploded over his taste buds.
“Adequate compensation for your troubles, doctor?” You asked, your heart thudding as the tip of his tongue inadvertently licked remnants of chocolate from your fingertips.
“Mmhm, indeed it is. For now.”
The entire complex hummed with vibrant energy as children raced the halls, stairwells and elevators in search of spooky treats. Honestly, you never knew so many children lived in the area until repeatedly “trick or treat” reverberated throughout the halls as doorbells chimed one visitor after another.
At one point you simply left the door propped open with the huge cauldron of candy, the cool autumn breeze flowing in from the balcony refreshing as it mingled with the scent of pumpkin spice as it flowed throughout your space.
“Trick or—Dr. Zayne?”
Zayne stopped in his tracks as he met a pair of familiar eyes. Greyson’s eyes to be exact. You joined Zayne’s side and Greyson’s gaze flitted between yours and Dr. Zayne’s, realization sparking behind his wire rimmed glasses.
“Hey Greyson! Who’s this cute little shark?” You asked dropping candy into the little boy’s pumpkin pail. He couldn’t have been older than five or six and bore a striking resemblance to the physician.
“This is my nephew. Doing my sister a favor and taking him out tonight. I, uh, Didn’t expect to run into you, Dr. Zayne.”
“Likewise,” Zayne responded flatly, arms crossed over the material of his costume.
“C’mon, Uncle Greyson, or we’ll miss all the good candy!” The boy pleaded, tugging at the fake plastic sword strapped to Greyson’s pirate costume.
Greyson nodded, bidding the two of you farewell, vowing the encounter would stay between the three of you. Zayne’s lips formed a flat line. He didn’t trust that statement as far as he could throw his first attending physician.
As the night went on the hallways cleared, doors shutting as the silence of the night filled with silver moonlight replaced the chaotic excitement of trick or treaters. Zayne had since removed his costume, claiming the beak made his skin sweat and smelled weird. You smiled doing the same, settling into his arms as you watched the moon rise high in the night sky.
“Penguins,” Zayne said absently as his thumb traced circles over the back of your hand while you sat snuggled on the love seat, a black and white horror classic serving as background noise. You turned from the screen then, catching the sharp features of his profile as the blue-gray glow of the television reflected in his hazel eyes.
“You could have chosen any costume. Why penguins?” He asked softly, turning to face you fully, and even in the dim lighting, the man before you stole the breath from your lungs. You wanted to be cheeky, to craft some comical remark about there being a sale. But, as his gaze held yours, as ridiculous as the costumes were, you’d chosen them for a reason: the cold weather bird reminded you through and through of Zayne.
“Because,” you say, cheeks heating, your bottom lip caught between even teeth. Zayne’s eyes didn’t miss the telltale sign of your reservation to answer, the bent knuckle of his index finger lifted your chin so that your gaze met his as his thumb soothed over your jaw.
“Because?” He murmured, voice soft as velvet, effectively making a thousand butterfly wings flutter in your belly at once.
“They reminded me of the penguins we saw in the Arctic for your birthday. They reminded me of our time together and how I never wanted it to end. They reminded me of…you.”
For a moment something soft flashed across Zayne’s eyes, something almost reverent.
“I see.” His eyes dropped to the candy bowl that sat on your laps as you’d watched the movie, now long forgotten. The crinkle of cellophane crackled over the movie’s hushed dialogue as Zayne dug around the bowl until he found the perfect piece of confection. His choice was meticulous, as if only the perfect piece of fruit flavored rock candy would do.
“You know, penguins search far and wide for the perfect stone to present to their intended mates,” Zayne’s voice was nearly a whisper, his body impossibly close to yours now, eyes fixated on the perfectly round piece of candy wrapped in clear plastic. The one he’d chosen was your favorite flavor, and he knew it, as he carefully unwrapped the translucent treat, bringing it to your lips.
You released your lip from your teeth as smooth stickiness traced your lips, the fruity taste tangy on your skin. You didn’t hesitate to hold Zayne’s wrist steady as the tip of your tongue lapped across the candy, across his nimble fingertips.
Whether it was the darkness of the room or your breath fanning across his hand that caused the green of his eyes to become eclipsed in black you can’t quite be sure of, but you had a feeling it was more of the latter.
You took the candy completely into your mouth then, as you licked sticky sweetness from fingertips that had saved countless lives. Something broke in Zayne then, something timeless and age old as his lips covered yours, his large hands framing your cheeks as he placed slow, wet kisses upon your lips. Your tongue slid across the seam of his mouth and he opened up to you, your candy flavored tongue causing a low hum to rumble in his chest.
Breathless, he pulled back, chest heaving as his thumb caressed your mouth. Zayne’s eyes held yours for a moment before lifting your open palm to pepper longing kisses there.
“Sweeter than any candy in this world.” His breath warm, you felt delicate kisses one after the other, his lips traveling now: your jaw, on the slope of your neck where is teeth grazed the ticking pulse point with the faintest of needy growls before closing his lips around your skin there, too. You couldn’t help the way your body arched against his, the way your hands formed little claws around his shoulders and biceps as his mouth dared to travel between the valley of your supple breasts over your thin sweater.
And when he heard the pleading whine of his name as it fell beautifully from your lips it was all the permission he needed to pick you up from the loveseat, hands securely palming the meat of your thighs and carry you off to bed.
Zayne was a man of many talents.
His mind, brilliant—his hands, blessed by Asclepius himself. So, who could you thank for the way his mouth ravaged yours? Your hands carded through thick, silkened dark strands that rivaled the voids of space, another soft growl bubbling from the doctor’s chest at a particular insistent tug at his roots.
He could have dropped you on the bed, could have watched how your beautiful body double bounced off the mattress, you wouldn’t have minded, but that wasn’t Zayne’s style. Gently, he placed you down, mouth hungrily working over yours as he followed you down to the bed, your hands greedily finding a path to his hot skin beneath the thin barrier of his button up shirt.
He watched your hands work each button through its hole, watched as black lacquered nails worked the smooth fabric from his shoulders and off his body completely, watched as those greedy little fingers meandered over his pecs and down the ripples of his abdomen, and even lower before he caught your wrists in one hand, holding them fast above your head.
“Adventurous little things, these hands, aren’t they?” If Zayne was anything, he was also a man of restraint. But whether that restraint was meant for you or for him this night was yet to be determine. You whined again, the sound desperate and foreign even in your ears.
His body leaned over yours, firm hand held your wrists in a bind as he caged you between him and the mattress. His mouth kissed the hypersensitive path of skin behind your ear down to your collarbone and you couldn’t help the way your body responded. Your hips lifted, seeking friction that bulge in the center of Zayne’s trousers could generously offer.
“Use your words. Always use your words with me.” Gods, his voice was like molten hot magma—smooth, yet laced with so much heat it made you ache as it filled you with barely restrained desire. Zayne didn’t often make demands, but when he did they always made you wet with need.
“Touch me, please.”
Zayne wasn’t a god, but he’d gladly grant each and every one of your supplications if it meant you blessing his ears with your soft, breathy pleas.
“Mmm, as you wish,” he said, as he sat up on his knees, eyes roaming over you unabashedly. “Now, be a good girl and lie still for me?”
You nodded, your lip caught between your teeth again, body aflame from the doctor’s order. Zayne released his hold on your wrists—tenderly, reverently, undressing you, piece by piece. From your black sweater to your soaked lace panties, he unwrapped you like his very own special piece of candy before doing away with his own clothing.
Maybe Zayne was a god. Because the way his body looked as he kneeled between your legs was divine. Broad shoulders chiseled down into a tapered waist that begged for legs to be wrapped around, shifted down closing the space between your bodies again. The faint scars of his muscular forearms and hands flexed, tendons maneuvering under his skin, the marred surface attractive in your eyes, heightening your need to have him even closer.
“Open.” The command was simple, yet so profound. It wasn’t harsh, it wasn’t demanding, but designed to have you gladly bloom like the good little jasmine you were for him. And your petals were so pretty and dewy and filled the air with the sweetest fragrance, enough to make Zayne intoxicated from it all. His eyes darkened, sharp but hazy at the same time, focused on your center that called out to him.
“Zayne. Need you.” You tried to be good. Tried to keep your hands to yourself, but you couldn’t help tracing the fine dusky trail that led from this navel to the thick, veiny base of his dick. The hiss that fell from his lips made you draw your hand back, fisting the sheets at your sides.
“You’re greedy. And impatient,” Zayne bit out as he hooked his hands firmly on your inner thighs working them open and jerking your body toward his. “But it would seem…” he began, voice softening back to silk as he lowered his mouth between your spread thighs, soaked with your own arousal, “…that my own greed is just as great as yours, if not more so.”
He kissed a path of fire up your inner thighs, the sounds of his lips against your skin ascending you into the stratosphere until your head felt dizzy. And when his nose nudge your apex as he deeply inhaled it took everything in you not to snap your legs shut around his head. His dark forestry gaze bore into yours, a silent dare for you to keep those pretty legs open for his mouth to ravage you. Zayne’s long lashes, a mysterious veil, fluttered closed as he tasted you then, hot, shuddering breaths fanning over your folds as he settled into devouring you slowly and completely. Your hands fisted the sheets again, teeth sinking into the skin of your lower lip, eyes wide but seeing nothing at all.
Zayne’s soft purr into your pussy sent shockwave from the base of your spine to the tip of your clit. Your back arched off the sheets as his lips wrapped around your bud, sucking it gently, his hot palm fanned out over your pelvis to keep your hips at bay.
He pulled back, eye drinking in your swollen sex, a mixture of fluids coalesced together flowing like a sacred river wetting your sheet.
“The sweetest flavors come from the ripest of fruits. And you, my darling, are more than ready, yes?”
“Yes,” you sighed remembering to use your voice this time, handsomely rewarded for being such a quick study.
“Mmhm, that’s my good girl.”
The title shouldn’t have made your body respond as obscenely as it did. Your greedy opening grasped at nothing and Zayne’s eyes caught the tiny flutter. The lopsided smirk he donned on his lips was smug and it had every right to be as he sat up again, two finger making a slow trek up your pussy to collect slick. Zayne palmed his own dick then, using your combined essence to work his palm smoothly over his length.
“The way you’re looking at me, darling, I won’t last long if you keep it up.”
His grip loosened around his dick, as the other hands pulled your hips closer to the muscle that stood proudly erect and leaking precum.
And then you felt him, hot and persistent between your folds, the blunt crown of his length so proud and rigid as it slid against your bud. And there were those eyes again, like a forest cast in shadows and secret, dark and all consuming. His verdant gaze didn’t miss one detail of how your face contorted in pleasure just from the simple friction—how your mouth fell open to release those pretty little sighs and whimpers. Zayne captured your lips again, swallowing your sounds as his tip hitched onto the cleft of your entrance, hand smoothing up your outer thigh, lifting your leg to rest the bend of your knee on his shoulder.
“Stay with me,” he commanded gently, face so close to your own. His voice carried a hint of a shudder with the double meaning of his statement, successfully keeping you tethered to this side of existence.
“So beautiful,” Zayne professed as he gazed down the expanse of your smooth skin to watch himself sink in—at the way the soft, round globes of your breast were perfect just for his hands, and the way he could already feel your thighs cradling his body as your liquid heat engulfed him.
Zayne. Was. A. Patient. Man.
But, damn it, the way your body wrapped so tightly around his shaft was maddening. Your walls were like a welcoming hug after years at war. Measured breaths passed from his nose as he gave his attention more to you than his own carnal need. He clocked the slight furrow of your brow from him stretching you out, the way your jaw fell slack, wordlessly—the way you pulsed around him in time to the beat of your heart when he was fully buried inside of you.
“So, good for me,” and his hips began a slow back and forth shift, his weight held up by outstretched palms. And just for the briefest of moments, Zayne gave into sensation, his thrusts quickening, the sticky slap of his balls against your skin resonating, the “mmm, fuck,” that shuddered from his lips so faint you didn’t know if you’d conjured the phrase in your mind or not.
Your hand lifted to caress his cheek, and it reeled him back in as he slowed his pace. He lifted a hand to cover yours, tenderly kissed the inside of your wrist, before sinking his teeth into the fleshiest part of your palm. Your heart fluttered at the two sides of Zayne who were at war with one another. And it didn’t matter which version of the doctor you received, because they were all facets of the same beautiful man. You did, however, need him not to stop his drive between your thighs.
“Nghh, Zayne..” your plea made his brow furrow, the perplexity of how you were so fucking perfect shadowing his features for a moment. And when you added “please?” to the end of the statement, he was lost to his and your desires. He handed you a pillow to place between you and the headboard, your safety and comfort always paramount.
The doctor shifted his angle, all too aware of the mechanics of anatomy and physiology and how the adjustment would have you both seeing stars. Lowering your leg, he latched onto your thighs again as he straightened his spine and widened his own knees for better leverage. You were at Zayne’s mercy as he gripped your hips enough that you knew the evidence of your acts would be panted proudly on your skin for days to come.
His next thrust forward was long and without pause or hesitation, his eyes glinting in the darkness, sharp as daggers as his hips rolled smoothly. He withdrew, enough for his glistening tip to peek out, before he drove back inside. Pace quickening again once he was convinced you could take him the way he desired to ravage you. And you took him fully like the queen you were. His hands gripped you like a vice, lifting your hips slightly from the bed until he was able to drive repeatedly into your core without any resistance.
Zayne huffed with each thrust forward, muscles beautifully flexed from his effort, eyes trained back on the beautiful canvas that was your body as the bed percussed with very move of your bodies. He loved the flush of your skin, and how it glistened with your exertions. The delicious way your breasts bounced up and down and how your thighs jiggled when his body connected with yours nearly made him lose all his senses. Above all, he loved how you beared down on his dick taking every inch of his hardness like the good girl you truly were for him.
Sweat soaked strands plastered to Zayne’s forehead and brow, making him look absolutely sinister. He slowed his stride to slink his hand between your legs to tease the wet pearl between your folds with his thumb, his gaze shifting up to yours to track your reaction. There was that wolffish smirk again—the look of a man who knew how good he made you feel—but without being boastful or obnoxious about it. Your hips jerked, your hands twisting in the sheets.
“Mmhm, like that. Come for me.” He gritted, and you babbled nonsense, your hips taking a life of their own, greedy to devour every inch of dick that Zayne fed you with deep thrusts and those tight little revolutions around your clit. Zayne knew you were on the brink of orgasm, his body covering yours again as his hips snapped forward like pistons, the head of his length rubbing intimately against the mouth of your cervix.
“Where do you want me, my darling?” Zayne’s voice was steel swathed in velvet as he breathed in the slope of your neck, nose nuzzling before placing soft kisses there.
“Inside,” you answered breathlessly. Zayne acquiesced, cradling the back of your head in the bend of his elbow effectively getting even closer to you if that was possible. Every inch of your bodies were connected—one in every sense of the word. Zayne wasn’t a man of theatrics or fan fair, and so when his breathy moans escalated to low growls against your jugular you fell apart. Your hips stuttered, legs clamped around his body as they seized with your release.
And Zayne didn’t stop his assault either. No, he fucked you through each and every one of those glorious spasms. Even when your body threatened to push him out he doubled down making sure his own release landed where intended.
“M’fuck. Good fuckin’ girl.” Zayne huffed obscenities low in your hair as his hips kicked as he chased his own release. He shifted again, locking your bodies tighter so that not even a breath of air could slip between you. His dick thickened more, balls filled with his seed ready to claim you.
Zayne didn’t often loose himself, except when it came to you.
The world shifted as Zayne lifted you from the mattress, held tightly in his embrace as your thighs straddled him. His hip snapped against gravity as he held a firm hand to your nape with one hand, the other gripped your ass to drive you forward with the momentum of his body. Your arms snaked around his body if only to keep from being catapulted off him from the way he fucked you with abandon. Your pussy was drenched—your previous release making the slide of you and Zayne’s skin sound absolutely pornographic between your moans and the doctor’s gruff pants.
You felt gentle fingertips sweep your hair to the side, placing kisses just below your ear as his grip on your nape and ass tightened with his onslaught of his release.
“Mm, mine,” he growled against the wet skin of your neck with each pearly stripe that coated your inner walls and beyond. His cum filled you up, hot and unrelenting as you felt his dick jerk with each shot of his release. Zayne’s lips sought yours again as if they were the answer to every prayer he’d ever uttered, taking deep draws from your mouth greedily. You felt his pulse deep inside and couldn’t begin to discern where he ended and you began. You both stayed like that for a while, finding solace in the warmth of each other’s embrace…
…until a cool breeze flowed in making you shiver.
When Zayne did pull out, he did so with so much care it made your heart quiver. Smooth lips sprinkled kisses on your damp forehead before being tucked into his side beneath crumple bedsheets, the comforter having long been casted to the floor in your passionate pursuits. The rhythmic beating of Zayne’s heart made you warm and drowsy.
“Sleep, little penguin,” he chuckled gently into your soft hair. You hadn’t even realized you’d passed out until you woke up the twilight hours of the morning, comforter back in place with a pair of strong arms wrapped around the curve of your waist. You quietly traced the scars of the hand that settled over your navel—the hand that transfixed you, where you’d found beauty in a pain you prayed Zayne no longer had to endure.
“Somebody’s awake.” You smiled at the sound of Zayne’s morning voice, deeper than his normal timbre, husky from sleep.
You twisted your neck around immediately seeking out his lips to greet yours. And he kissed you once, twice, three times, your hand carding through thick strands at the back of his head to keep his mouth on yours. He only pulled back when he warned that neither of you would leaved the bed if your lips and hands kept misbehaving.
And to be completely honest you were more than okay with that plan. However, you untangled yourself from around his body, stretching out like a kitten fresh from her nap. His eyes surveyed your movements—actually calculating the pros and cons of calling into work in favor of staying in your arms for the next twenty-four hours.
“I have surgeries today.” You hadn’t asked, but you had a feeling he’d voiced a response to the internal war that raged inside his mind. Because, if literal lives weren’t depending on the Chief of Surgery showing up for work Zayne would gladly never leave your bed for the rest of eternity.
“I think,” you began, sitting up so Zayne could shuffle out of bed, “that you should wear the penguin costume to the children’s ward after your shift tonight. The kiddos would love it.”
Zayne exhaled a chucked breath. He couldn’t imagine the absurdity of how he must have looked in Greyson’s eyes. However, none of that mattered. Seeing the smile on your face made the teasing he’d receive from his staff for the next year worthwhile.
But, Zayne did have his limits.
“I’ll have to politely decline,” he smiled as he began dressing himself. “It’s bad enough Greyson is probably embellishing the entire account to our nursing staff. I won’t hear the end of this until next Halloween.’’ Zayne stopped once he’d finished buttoning his shirt, leaving the hem untucked.
“Also, drink your electrolyte water. You fell asleep before rehydrating last night.” Your cheeks heated and you had the fucking audacity to twirl your hair around your finger as you shifted toward your nightstand to sip from the cool glass.
“All of it. Don’t leave a single drop, darling. Doctor’s orders.” Zayne said, slipping back into black leather Chelsea boots, sleeves rolled up his elbows. “I’ll make coffee before heading out. Now rest, it’s still very early.” He leaned over placing the sweetest kiss on your forehead, a gesture far too chaste compared to last night’s occupations, but meant strictly to keep his need for you in check.
Zayne was a man of many facets, above all, a man who deeply, deeply cared for you in any version of himself. That fact irrevocable and steadfast.
So, I’ve had tumblr for awhile (made originally for 875, iykyk) but revamping as another platform to post my LADS content now. I’ll upload my ao3 stuff here and shamelessly reblog Love and Deepspace brain rot, yay!! @syliezay (ZayBae) on discord.
Some amazing mutuals of mine created something for me I did not expect. A song about Sylus! I was in tears upon receiving this gift. Not because this is a sad song. No, it’s Sylus. It’s a song to fuck to hehehe and maybe a potential bgm for a future Sylus audio 😏 ahem. Anyways, I cried because I’ve never been the object to anyone else’s inspiration before and it’s just. Overwhelming. (And I guess I’m just a shy cry baby that can’t handle affection. Lmao)
Anywayyysss because it is meeee. I did add a Sylus Voice line and ugghhhhh. Why’s he just so hot??!!
[smut/ fem reader/DAA pilot & mechanic Caleb/ fluff/ slow burn] MDNI 🔞
He was always working on something in that garage. An old beat up car, a motorcycle, even tiny pieces of a model plane. He would give you an eye crinkling smile, maybe a wave or wink when you passed by after a morning jog—but today he actually spoke. “Hey you, how was your run?,” he asked, sweaty, skin smudged with motor oil—or maybe coolant? You weren’t sure. You barely caught his voice through your headphones as you slowed to a walk. “Are you…talking to me?,” you asked, flushed and out of breath. The brunette man chuckled, crossing his muscular arms and tilting his head, I mean, there’s no one else around, Pipsqueak.” His voice carried a teasing lilt, like he always talked to you that way, as if he wasn’t a stranger. “I—um, it was good. Beat my time from last week,” you stuttered.
“Is your…car okay?,” you gestured to the vehicle in organized pieces. A coy grin spread across his lips, “oh, this old thing? It’s comin’ along. Givin’ me hell too, buuut I like a challenge.” You nodded, trying to keep your eyes from wandering, which was nearly impossible. He was handsome, sharp features, violet eyes, his body was carved to perfection and his voice had a flirtatious tone. Sweet like honey and smooth like slate. “Have you been doing this long? Seems like you always have a project.” He looked back at the scattered piles of car parts, “well, normally I’m workin’ on planes, but cars aren’t much different.” That’s when it caught your eye, the silver dog tags catching the morning sunlight resting against his tank top. Then you realized you couldn’t stop staring at his chest. “What’s your name, darlin’ ?,” he asked, drawing your attention back to his face. You said it like it was a question itself, still trying to grasp that this conversation was really happening.
“Pretty,” he hummed. Your heart fluttered behind your ribs. “Thanks, I’m sorry I didn’t ask you—,” “Caleb. But you can call me whatever you want,” god, he was quick. A little too quick, like he talked to every woman this way. Although, you never saw anyone else come and go. Just him with a new project, donning a pilot jumpsuit. You wondered if he was lonely or if he chose solitude, maybe this brief window of small talk would let you in.
“So you’re a deepspace hunter, yeah?,” Caleb inquired, the upper half of his body slumped inside the car’s hood. Little did you know, he’d taken notice of you the moment you moved in 8 months ago. At first it was just a simple glance, new girl, gorgeous—no boyfriend, no husband. Caleb soon became fascinated by you, your routines, how you kept to yourself—just like he did. The smooth talk, charismatic charm and looks saved him from the fact that this small interaction made butterflies dance in his stomach. “Mhm, I recently got relocated to Sky Haven. And you must be some kind of pilot?” Caleb looked up from the hood, “DAA, Farspace Fleet has been houndin’ me to join them for a while though. Hand me that socket wrench?” You quirked an eyebrow, did this guy really just put you to work? His hand grazed yours as you passed the tool off, sending a small jolt of lighting under your skin. “Well, it was nice meeting you, but I gotta get going.” “Duty calls, huh? Wanderers won’t defeat themselves, I guess.” Caleb stood a little closer, giving you the chance to see the flecks of orange in his amethyst eyes. “Nice, meetin’ you too.” He held out his hand and when you shook it, both your grasps seemed to linger.
You thought about that handshake all day, His callouses were rough, yet he gently held you, fingertips gliding over your skin when you drew back. Even though he was covered in grime and sweat, he smelled good—like leather and a hint of cologne. When you returned from your shift, he was still buried head first in that old car, occasionally wiping his brow with a forearm or towel that used to be white. He looked good, really good. Dirty and grimy, hair damp with sweat, skin tanned and somehow smooth given his rugged exterior. You didn’t realize your bottom lip was caught in your teeth until he waved at you again, flashing that smug grin. You returned the gesture before heading inside, internally screaming at the thought he might of caught you gawking. It wasn’t until night time that you heard the hum of his garage close from across the street.
Caleb stared at his hand. His hand that actually touched yours, still feeling the warmth, how smooth your skin was. He wondered if the rest of you was just as soft, how you looked naked—what you’d look like beneath him. Would his name sound just as good moaned as it did when you said it casually? How did you taste? Probably sweet, like sugar couldn’t compete. As he washed away the greasy film off his body, he fantasized about how you’d feel wrapped around him, panting, eyes hazy. Arousal crawled over him as he palmed himself, stroking slow, imagining it was you. Your name rolled off his tongue like a prayer as his release spilled over his fingers. He wondered if you were thinking of him, too.
Your thoughts were far from decent. While lying in bed, your mind and hands wandered. Grazing your breasts and thighs before diving between them, feeling embarrassingly soaked. “Mmh, fuck…Caleb…” It was so easy, losing yourself by his image, his voice, how his hands might feel in place of your own. You wanted to know how his lips felt pressed against yours, if his tongue was just as skilled grazing your flesh as it was forming sentences. His name fell from you again and again. You hoped he couldn’t hear how your voice carried as it filled the evening air.
The next week his garage wasn’t open, though. He didn’t come home around dinner time with his flight helmet tucked under his arm or a new project to tinker with. You were kept busy enough with several assignments from work, but your morning runs didn’t feel the same without Caleb’s cheeky greetings. It’s not like you could call or text him either, because he was probably flying somewhere in deep space…and you didn’t have his number. There was this growing urge to check in on him, to make sure he was okay. Eventually, he returned home, but his normally playful demeanor seemed dull. You watched him walk to his front door from your mailbox. His pace was sluggish, shoulders slumped, yet when he turned and saw you, he forced a weak smile. There was something behind his eyes that looked sad, pulling him somewhere in the past perhaps and it tugged at your heart.
If there was anything that made you feel better, it was baked goods. Maybe something sweet and homemade would lift his spirits, too. The scent of cinnamon filled your entire house as the apple pie you made cooled on the kitchen counter. He was back in his garage again, tucked under the same old car—the faint murmur of a radio playing an alternative rock station. “Hey, Caleb,” you said. He slowly wheeled out, meeting your eyes as he sat forward. “Whatcha got there?,” his voice was as warm as the pie in your hands. “A peace offering, you looked a bit melancholy the other day and I thought…,” you trailed off as Caleb stood, he already looked a little happier. “How’d ya know apple is my favorite?” His cologne filled your senses again, “uh, lucky guess,” you choked. He chuckled, taking the pie off your hands, “wanna come in for a slice?”
His place was put together nicely, the choice of interior design was certainly a surprise. Masculine, but not cold, not grey or overdone. You sat at one of the tall bar stools by the edge of a large island, watching his face light up as he plated himself a generous serving. “I really needed this, thank you.” Caleb’s eyes fluttered shut when took a bite, a quiet hum fell from his lips. It had been a long time since he’d eaten something that tasted like nostalgia on his tongue and he could tell it was made with care, every ingredient dancing over his tastebuds. “Sorry, I didn’t ask if you wanted any,” he said mid chew. “No, really, please finish it. I can make another one.” Your eyes stayed on each other for a moment, “can I ask why you were gone?” Caleb’s body went rigid as he placed the empty plate in the sink, his expression distant as he found his voice again. “Once a month…I fly out to look for a friend I lost during a mission years ago.” He leaned against the counter, head hung between his shoulders. “I pressured him into goin’ with me, I regret it every day. But there’s a part of me that knows he’s out there…waiting to punch my arm and cuss me out,” he forced a breathy laugh, meeting your gaze again. Something told you to reach out, placing a hand over his, “I’m so sorry. You’re a good friend for looking for him.” Caleb flinched from your touch, knuckles so tight they were pale. “What’s his name?” He paused for a beat, like he owed him a moment of silence to soften the guilt. “Gideon. Best pilot I know—besides me, heh.” “He’s like a brother to me, ya know?” You nodded and gave him a reassuring smile, “he’ll come back soon.” “He better, guy still owes me for gettin’ that dent out his bumper.”
~*~*~*~
The daily routines you both followed returned to normal. Seeing his face smudged with grease after your morning runs was something you looked forward to, now. Occasionally he’d invite you in for coffee or breakfast. His cooking was amazing, just another thing that made him irresistible. You’d bring him a new baked good every now and then—he’d jokingly complain if you kept it up, he’d have to starting jogging, too. “I wouldn’t mind seeing more of you, actually,” you admitted. He cleared his throat and wore a faux look of confidence, “that can be arranged, darlin’.” You giggled at his rosy cheeks, “dinner at my place, then?”
“It’s a date.”
After rummaging through your old box of recipe cards, you landed on the one for a traditional pot roast, suitable for a pilot/ mechanic. It was also something you could leave in the crockpot while you were at work, two birds–one stone. You probably cleaned your place three times in preparation, as if this was your first time having guests. Occasionally, you had friends over or a random visit from your parents—but tonight was completely different. It had been years since you had a boyfriend, let alone dated. Caleb was just as single. Actually, he’d never been with anybody. He had the attention of every girl in college, but stayed focused on his studies. Then, once he joined the aerospace academy, it consumed his life entirely. It wasn’t until you suddenly came along that he wanted someone so strongly. His hands trembled as he got ready, tousling his hair around—almost nicking his neck while shaving. It was just dinner with a neighbor, he thought. No, it wasn’t that simple, not with the way you lived in his head.
You stared at yourself in the mirror for far too long, adjusting your top and skirt several times, unsure to wear your hair up or down. With a deep sigh, you finally had enough of your reflection, right on time for the doorbell’s ringing to fill your ears. Caleb’s broad frame filled the doorway, his cologne wafted over you again, smelling a little stronger this time. You smiled at his attempt to clean up, wearing a loose button up shirt over jeans—that just happened to hug his quads perfectly. His throat bobbed at the sight of you. Your clothes bared just enough skin, coiled tendrils of hair framed your face and he’d never seen you with make up on. “Damn—,” he blurted, hand immediately shooting over his mouth. A breathy laugh escaped you, “you clean up nice yourself, Mr. Xia.”
“Come in.”
Caleb leaned against the counter, watching you grab bowls and silverware, entertained by the way you flowed through the comfort of your own space. “I hope you’re hungry, I made enough to feed an army,” you joked. “Don’t you worry, ma’am. I brought an appetite suitable for an army, plus some.” Caleb rubbed his stomach like a hungry cartoon bear, you giggled. “Perfect, do you drink? I have wine but it’s fine if you don’t want to—,” he came behind you as you tried reaching for two glasses, fingers just barely touching the stems. His warmth was palpable against your back, “I got it.” Your pulse flickered at the closeness, taking the glasses and setting them aside, not realizing how tall Caleb was until now. “T-thank you.” “Pleasure’s mine…” Your gazes lingered, there was something different about the way he looked at you, it was longing, almost reverent. His body slightly caged you in , making your breath shallow. “Um, let’s eat! I didn’t make all this for nothing,” you stuttered. Caleb’s fingers curled in tightly, attempting to keep his restraint. That moment felt like eternity, enough time to lean in, to finally kiss you like he’s wanted for weeks. Instead, he popped the cork and poured wine for the two of you—heart pounding and thoughts swimming.
“So you bake, cook, keep cities safe, what can’t you do?” You smiled at Caleb’s praise, finishing off a second glass. The Cabernet burned as it traveled down your throat, leaving your lips stained and cheeks dusted with color. “You have such a way with words. Must say it to everyone, huh?,” you slurred, running a finger over his forearm. A nervous sound slipped out as his eyes watched your hand rest in place on his skin, “no, not at all—do I come off as some kinda playboy?” “Oh, no of course not, I’m just giving you a hard time,” you replied, “maybe I’ve had enough wine.” Caleb just smirked and took your dishes to the sink, “you’re fine, I kinda like you this way…it’s cute.” You watched as he washed everything, wiped down the counters, if you didn’t interrupt he probably would have swept the floors too. He shrugged it off, saying it was the least he could do for dinner and your company. The more time he spent around you, the more his presence felt natural and you weren’t ready for him to leave.
“If you’re not in a hurry, would you wanna stay and watch something?,” you hoped your voice didn’t sound too desperate. Caleb didn’t want the night end either. With an offer to stay and be close to you, though, he’d never pass that up. You sank into the couch and patted the cushion beside you, “c’mon, I won’t bite.” He moved at a calm pace, but his heart was thrumming in his ears. Flipping through an endless array of tv shows and movies, you didn’t notice the space Caleb put between your bodies. “I know you’re trying to be polite, but you can sit closer—I want you to.”
“Alright…” his weight shifted, making the couch dip a bit more. After agreeing on something to watch, you settled into the pillows, throwing a blanket over your legs. The room was only lit by some ambient lights and the flickering of the tv. Caleb’s body hadn’t quite relaxed as he sat beside you, still maintaining a soldier’s posture. The movie playing was entertaining enough that you didn’t notice yourself leaning against him, nuzzling under his arm. He forgot how to breathe as his hand rested on your shoulder. You were warm, soft, the remnants of your perfume taunted his senses. Little by little your eyes began to droop and eventually you fell asleep with your head in Caleb’s lap. Instinctively, he pet your hair, tucking any fallen tendrils behind your ear. “Still pretty when you’re sleepin’, huh?,” he murmured to himself, standing with you firmly in his arms. Once he found your bedroom, Caleb laid you snugly in bed. He looked at you one last time before he turned to leave, wishing he could crawl in behind you.
Beams of sunlight bled through the blinds, stirring you awake. There was a glass of water, two aspirin and a handwritten note on the nightstand. Definitely hungover, your head was pounding and you downed it all in one go. After rubbing your eyes, you reached for the note:
“Thanks for such a great night. Two glasses of wine might be your limit, had you out like a busted taillight. Don’t worry, the movie was good, come by the garage and I’ll give you a detailed recap. Take it easy, darlin’.”
-Caleb
A part of you wished he’d slept over, looking at the empty space on the bed. The pillow was still smooth, no dent in the mattress where his weight could have been. No strong arms wrapped about you or chest to lay against, just the same outfit you wore the night before and make up smudged beneath your waterline. You decided on a walk instead of your normal morning run, anything to avoid your stomach from churning. Caleb’s garage door whirred as it opened. He was wearing a new tank top, the sleeves of his pilot jumpsuit tied around his narrow waist. By the time you’d get back, both would probably have fresh sweat and oil stains. You stretched and tightened your shoe laces, watching him lay out his tools—there were fewer piles of car parts strewn around the cement floor. He caught your gaze, giving his usual wink and waved you over.
“Mornin’. How’s your head?,” he teased, throwing a rag over his shoulder. “Not pounding anymore, thanks to you. That water and aspirin were life savers.” Caleb shrugged as if taking care of you was second nature. Little did you know, he’d do it a thousand times. “I spent countless nights taking care of my drunk buddies at the flight academy. They didn’t call me ‘Nurse Caleb’ for nothing.” You chuckled, “I’m sure they appreciated it.”
“Maybe. Don’t let me keep you, I’ll be here when you get back.”
“Head buried in the hood?”
“You already know it.”
And there he was, waiting on you like clockwork, bangs plastered to his forehead, adams apple bobbing as he downed a glass of water. That prickling sensation crawled across your skin again. Seeing him dressed up was nice—but when he was sprawled out under that car, he looked even better. Your lip was tucked in your teeth, eyes wandering too long, too obvious. “You enjoying the view?,” Caleb quipped, wiping his brow, smugly grinning from ear to ear. “And what if I am?,” you stepped just a pace closer, head cocked and hands on your hips. He was trapped now, mouth always moving faster than his mind. You were the only one that made his thoughts scramble and watching the bead of sweat roll between your cleavage—sinking into your sports bra, wasn’t helping. Caleb cleared his throat, “I-uh never recapped that movie from last night. Maybe over dinner, my place this time?” His gaze was hopeful, the flecks of orange standing out from the sun’s light. “I’d like that.”
You fiddled with the hem of your shirt as you stood outside his front door. For some reason being at Caleb’s place at night seemed a lot more intimate than your brief coffee and breakfast visits. He wore a warm smile when he answered the door, cologne wafting over you like it always did. Whatever he had cooking inside smelled just as appetizing. A full spread was laid out on the kitchen island, charcuterie, wine and from the looks of it, steak sizzling in a cast iron pan. “Wow, Caleb this is…,” “too much?” “No, not at all! I just feel a bit spoiled.” His shoulders rose and fell with that carefree shrug he always did. Brushing off hours of prep and cooking, saying it was just something special for his favorite neighbor. As usual, everything tasted Michelin Star levels of delicious, you considered getting thirds. The look on Caleb’s face could only be described as endearing as he watched you. Cheeks full, eyelashes fluttering with each bite—that adorable hum you’d make was the cherry on top. He couldn’t get enough of you. “Let me help with the dishes this time, seriously. You outdid yourself,” you insisted, following him to the sink. “Alright, alright. If you insist.” Even though he allowed your help, Caleb still took most of the work, leaving you only to dry each dish. He lived up to his word, recapping the entire movie from the night before. “And I fell asleep through all that? Unbelievable,” you snorted. “Yup. Gave sleeping beauty a run for her money. In both beauty and sleep departments.” You nudged his side with your elbow, “oh please—,” “no, really. I mean it…,” suddenly that warmth crawled over you again.
He moved in, caging you against the kitchen counter. “Has anyone ever told you that?,” he asked, playing with your fallen shirt strap, “how beautiful you are?” The feeling of his fingers against your skin ignited something in you that was growing difficult to resist—boiling and bubbling over. Caleb’s gaze was fixed on you, occasionally flickering to your lips. “I–dunno, but…,” you ran a hand down his chest, meeting his eyes with matched hunger, “I really like when you tell me.” His voice became lower, huskier, admitting a truth that felt ancient, “I’ve thought you were since the moment I saw you,” his thumb caressed your jaw, fingers curling around the back of your neck. “I want to be selfish. Keep you here until my head stops spinnin’.” Molten heat radiated from his skin, he was so close, yet not close enough. Your hand curled into his T-shirt, you felt how firm his chest was beneath the fabric—it was enough to make your breath catch. “Caleb…,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed for a beat before meeting his. They glowed like fire, orange bleeding into violet. His lips feathered against yours, “yes…?,”
“Touch me…before I get too dizzy…”
A gasp escaped you as he lifted you by the waist, setting you firmly on the counter. You tangled your legs around him, pulling him in as close as your bodies allowed. His lips were rough against yours, sweeping with need, spilling out desperate whimpers and groans. Frantic kisses traveled down your neck, lingering on your collar bone—his teeth grazed skin and it pulled a moan from your throat. He liked that, he liked it a lot. If there was a way to keep you making those noises, Caleb would stay up all night in that pursuit. “I want to give you more…,” he rasped, hands splayed over your thighs, breath ragged and hot. You needed him, all of him—again and again, until you were laid beneath him spent and sated, surrounded by his body and scent. There was an ache between your legs and a buzzing in your ears, the hair on your arms stood—nipples stiff underneath layers of nauseating clothing. “Please—,” you finally answered before being scooped into Caleb’s arms.
He carried you so effortlessly, floating through the kitchen and living room, lips finding his in the dark hallway to the bedroom. His breath tasted like sin and your core clenched when he slid his tongue in your mouth. Your back hit the mattress with a soft thump. Caleb pulled his shirt over his head with one hand and your mouth fell open at his physique. Fuck, he looked so unreal, it was rather annoying, actually. Veins ran down his body like thick cords beneath his skin. Your eyes were particularly drawn to the ones peaking from the waistline of his jeans. “Like what you see, darlin?,” he quipped, popping the button open, dragging down his zipper. “I’d like it more if you were naked.” Caleb chuckled, kneeling over you, hand slithering under your shirt’s hem, “likewise.”
He pushed the thin fabric up your stomach, savoring the softness of your skin and the shudder of your breath. His fingers found the front clasp of your bra, fumbling a bit before it finally opened. The garments were tossed to the floor, leaving you bare from the waist up. Caleb brought his lips to your chest, dotting slow, open mouth kisses against it. Inching closer and closer until taking a nipple into his mouth, making your eyes rolled back. “Fuck…Caleb..,” you whined, arching into him. He groaned, deep and gravelly, vibrating your whole frame. His hand made the descent to your panties, thin and lace and soaked through with arousal. “Jesus…you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growled, fingers pressed into your clothed folds. He wound tight, slow circles against you, drinking in every gasp and moan he earned from his ministrations. You didn’t know it was his first time touching someone like this, because everything about his hands felt experienced and precise. “M-more Caleb...,” you begged, hips writhing, grip curled around his large arms.
Cool air bit at your wet skin as he slid your panties down your legs. His breath hitched at the sight of you, sticky, pink, clenching around nothing. “Holy shit—,” he murmured, lowering his head between your thighs. Caleb spread you open with his fingers, leaned in slowly and dragged a languid stripe over your entrance. Your hands fisted the sheets from the contact of tongue to flesh. The sounds coming from him were deep, hungry, feral. “You taste…so fuckin’ good,” he panted, burying his face deeper. And he devoured you endlessly, like he wanted to live there, like your fluids were the only thing keeping him alive. Every suck, lick and hum rattled through your bones and brought you closer to the edge. Your eyes met as he ate you messily, his pupils were blown to the edges, rimmed with a hint of violet. Sweat clung to his bangs, and the lower half of his face glistened with your slick. Your hand cradled his face, “Caleb….need you inside me, I can’t wait anymore—.” He swallowed hard and his cock throbbed behind the confines of his pants. They couldn’t come off fast enough as he pushed them down his thighs and tossed them to the ground. His hands framed either side of your face, sinking into the mattress. For a moment he just wanted to look at you, to make sure this was real. Your body pliant, laid beneath him, skin beginning to glow with sweat. He watched the rise and fall of your breasts, how you licked your parted lips—lost and completely entranced. “Caleb?,” you called to him quietly. He squeezed his eyes shut, giving his head a gentle shake, “s-sorry, it’s just…I can’t believe you’re here, like this…with me.” You gave a breathy laugh, “this is where I wanna be.”
Your legs wrapped around him again, pulling his hips to yours, “now, show me why I should stay…”
Caleb held himself at the base, gliding his length through your folds before teasing you with a few taps. “Haah—please…,” your hips bucked, chasing friction, begging to be filled. And god, were you full as he sank every last inch inside, cursing under his breath, palms digging into your hips. “You feel so good. God, how are you real?,” he rasped. Then he began to move, just enough for you to adjust to his size. He was so…big. Not just his height, his build. The stretch from his cock stung deliciously and with each thrust you only swallowed him deeper.
Caleb pulled back slowly watching himself disappear when he pushed back in, “fuuuck, look at that. Pussy is so greedy, baby.” His lewd words made heat coil in your belly, walls clamping down—claiming him as yours. “Mmh, don’t stop…,” you whimpered, “harder…”
God, he loved it when you begged, he wanted to watch you fall apart, to ruin you, feel your entire body tremble. His hips rocked into you faster, the wet slapping of skin blended with your moans and cries of Caleb’s name. His pace was intense, unrelenting—he had your knees shoved to your chest and his face buried against your neck. “Stay the night….fuck, stay with me please—.” Your mouth hung open in a silent scream, absorbing every thrust he gave you, voice raw and strained. “Let me make you cum, I need it–I need you.” There wasn’t much left for you to hold on to, and his pleading only drove you further to bliss. You held him tighter, bodies melded together, nails dragging down the planes of his back. “Yeah, just like that. Mark me the fuck up,” Caleb growled before sinking a bite into your throat. The sting from his teeth shattered you, ripping a raspy moan from your lips. “Ca–leb! I-I’m…”
“Give it to me, give me what’s mine…”
“Mine-,” thrust “mine–,” thrust “mine!”
You milked him dry as you came undone, drained him of everything he had as he spilled into you—gasping for breath while your walls gripped him like a vice. Caleb’s lips found yours, moving slowly, reverently, tasting your sweet breath as it left in short gasps. His weight felt grounding on top of you. Smoothing your fingertips over every inch of skin, you wanted to memorize every curve of muscle, every vein and strand of hair. He was still trembling, cock buried deep, twitching at any slight movement. “I wanna stay like this for a while,” you whispered against his neck, pressing a kiss where his pulse flickered. He hummed softly, rolling your tangled bodies on their side, “as long as you stay…”
Sleep blanketed itself over your melded forms, you didn’t even remember when your eyes finally closed. All that mattered was Caleb being there when you woke up. And he was, wrapped around you, arm across your middle—hand splayed over your tummy. You still felt him, claiming you from the inside, still full. The sun had just started to stream through the blinds, warm against your skin. The man behind you stirred, letting out a lazy groan, his embrace tightening. “Hey…,” Caleb murmured, planting a kiss to your temple, then your neck and shoulder. “Mm, hi.” He had the faintest smile pulling at his lips, eyes a softer shade of lilac from the rising sun. “There’s an extra towel in the bathroom if you wanna shower. I’ll get breakfast goin’.”
Remnants of the night before rinsed away from your body, down the drain but not lost. You still felt every touch, lick, bite. You still heard every groan, gasp and word of praise. And you wanted it again, you wanted Caleb.
Stepping into his empty room, wrapped tightly in a towel, you collected your clothes thrown around the floor. Warm, buttery, syrupy scents filled your nostrils, he wasn’t kidding when he said breakfast was on. Your slightly wrinkled outfit now hung off you a little more loose, but when he saw you walk into the kitchen, he’d never seen anyone more beautiful.
“How ya feelin’?,” he asked, flipping a final hotcake on a plate. You inhaled deeply, waking up even more when you smelled the coffee he’d been brewing. “Perfect. Starving though.”
“Weeeell, lucky for you, Caleb’s bed n’ breakfast is open for business,” he chided, gesturing to the counter decorated with multiple entrees. And everything was delicious, of course it was. You almost went for a third plate—again. Caleb found himself staring, sat back in his chair watching you eat. He found everything about you so endearing. The way you chewed, your messy hair, the marks left on your face from heavy sleep.
With a final swig of orange juice, you washed down the last of your meal, content, belly full—ready to nap already. The digital chime of your Hunter watch pinged with a reminder as it lit up your wrist with a blue-white light. “Agh, that’s right…,” you groaned. “Everything good?,” Caleb asked, clearing away the dishes. “Oh-yeah, just forgot I volunteered to host an introductory combat course to our new onboards.”
“Duty calls, Miss Hunter.” He held two fingers to his forehead in salute.
“It does, thanks again…for last night. For breakfast,” you murmured.
“I should be thankin’ you,” he gave a breathy laugh, “you were…amazing…”
Your cheeks felt hot, his voice sounded so tender when he spoke about you now. Even before the sex, something had changed, and you didn’t mind it at all. You stood and gathered your things—only shoes and your purse but you lingered a bit, not really wanting to leave. “Will I see you in the garage when I get back?,” you asked, hopeful, voice soft. “I live in that damn garage, darlin’, I’ll wait for you.”
That made your heart flicker. He always seemed to be there, waiting, wanting. Had it taken you this long to notice? As you stood in the doorway, saying your goodbyes, you wanted nothing more than a kiss to send you off. Caleb must have read your mind, leaning down and melting his lips with yours.
It made your fingers travel up his back and tangle into the chestnut strands at his nape. His grip was tight on your waist, breaths shallow like he could take you again on the living room floor. But he pulled away, reluctantly, pushing out an exasperated sigh.
“Go on, now. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
The work day dragged and so did the soles of your boots up the paved walkway to your front door. One of these days you’d finally cave and use that gift certificate for a massage that collected dust in your pile of mail. Speaking of mail, you sighed at the uninteresting letters waiting in the mailbox, mostly bills and credit card offers. You glanced to see if Caleb was there, only to meet those sunset eyes like he’d been waiting like wiggly puppy. Even with the heavy weight of exhaustion on your shoulders, your feet moved until you were in front of him.
“Long day?,” he asked, sliding off his work gloves. “That doesn’t even cover it.” You still managed a smile, “how are you?” Caleb tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “better now.” You scoffed, yet your head seemed to rest in his hand, eyes falling shut. “Hey, do you wanna go for a ride?,” his question made your ears perk up. “Really? Right now?” He gave the hood a few pats, “yeah, right now, silly. I finally got’er running.” His eyes searched yours, that boyish grin lifting the corners of his mouth. How could you resist?
“Fuck it, let’s go.”
After opening your door, Caleb practically scurried to the driver’s side, turning the key and laughing triumphantly when the engine bagan to purr. “So, where are we going, captain?,” you teased. “Oh, you’ll see.”
He drove for a while, some moments in silence, others filled with conversation or the hum of the radio. Eventually you came upon a winding road that seemed to reach the sky. And when you finally rolled to a stop, the journey was more than worth what appeared in front of your eyes. “Here we are, top of the world,” Caleb said softly, almost in awe himself.
Puffy, clouds filled your vision, painted in hues of orange and pink. The sunlight beamed through the cracks and for the first time you thought maybe heaven existed. There was no noise pollution from the city, no tall buildings to obscure the beauty before you. Only bliss. Only you and him. “Caleb…how did you find this place?,” you rasped. “During a flight I happened to fly over this spot, took a mental note of the coordinates and mapped out the location via gps. It took a few long drives, but I mean, look at it.” He gestured outward, proud of his discovery.
“Thank you.”
“What for, darlin’?”
You looked at him, smiling at the smudge of grease on his cheek he was too excited to wipe away and the cowlick on the top of his head. There was nowhere else you would rather be than in this old car.
“For bringing me here. You could have kept this view to yourself, but you shared it with me.”
Those butterflies stirred in his stomach, again. He had already seen so much of you in such a short time, but in this moment it all seemed to settle in.
“I wouldn’t want to with anyone else. I…like havin’ you around,” Caleb nervously rubbed the back of his head, eyes pointed toward the floor. “I like being with you,” you murmured, cheeks warm and flushed with color, “a lot, actually.”
He leaned across the center console, closing the distance between your lips, “will you stay around for a while, then?”
His hand slipped into your hair, fingers cradling the back of your neck. You could taste his breath as he spoke and you wanted more, right there in the front seat.
“Caleb…,” you sighed.
“Mhm?,” he groaned back, inching closer, torturing you with distance.
Taking matters into your own hands, you crawled into his lap, thighs framing his waist, breath heavy. Caleb’s hands anchored to your hips, firm and desperate. His fingers dove beneath the hem of your shirt, leaving trails up either side of your spine. You shivered, arching into him, arms wrapping around his neck. When he finally kissed you, it was electric, sending chills through your body and heat between your thighs.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he moaned, pushing his way into your mouth with his tongue. A whimper escaped you, sucking the pink muscle before letting slide between your teeth. “Then take me…” Caleb throbbed at that, straining against his jeans, already leaking from the little sounds that fell from your lips. “Get this off…,” he growled, pulling the garment over your head in one swift motion. Your hands wandered down his chest and abdomen, landing on the button of his jeans. Wet lips pursed against the soft skin of your chest, eliciting quiet sighs.
“Touch me, more…please..,” you whispered, fumbling with Caleb’s zipper. The clasp of your bra snapped open, leaving you even more bare, a sight he could never grow tired of. Taking a nipple into his mouth, he rolled, sucked and bit at the peak—whining simply from the taste of your skin. Your hips moved forward and back, chasing friction, hands still working to free Caleb from the confines of his pants. “Mmh–lemme help,” he grunted, lifting himself off the seat and tugging his jeans down. His fingers circled around your wrist, guiding your hand to where he ached, “y’feel that? This is what you do to me. Your name, your scent, the sounds you make…fuck…”
His cock was scorching against your palm, begging to be touched, weeping precum down the length. You bit your bit lip, starting with slow, agonizing strokes. Your eyes never left Caleb’s, watching his pupils dilate, flooding violet with black. His brows were bowed, lips pouty as he fucked into your palm desperately—the sight making your mouth water. “Please—sit on me. I need her again, I miss her warmth,” he begged, gripping your thighs hard enough to bruise.
You lifted off his lap, torso flush to his face, where he nuzzled and kissed before a gasp ripped through his lips. Caleb felt the heat of your sex hovering above him, making the slow decent. You hissed as his crown made its intrusion, the stretch familiar but still just as intoxicating.
“Mmn—keep going, sugar,” he groaned, pulling you close.
You sank all the way down, feeling impossibly full, savoring the claim he had inside you. “Fuck…Caleb…,” his name poured off your tongue as you started to grind your hips in greedy circles. He responded with his own sounds and words of praise, forehead pressed to yours, warm breath fanning across your neck.
“Take whatever you need, god take it all. I don’t care, just don’t stop squeezing me like that,” he rambled aiding your rolling hips with his hands. You moaned at the sound of his voice, it was frayed and rough, making your pussy drool down the length of him.
“Harder…god, I need it harder, please—,” you begged, bouncing in his lap vigorously.
Caleb’s hands slid under your ass, lifting you into his frame, every thrust hitting deep in your stomach. You clawed at his shoulders, nails biting the skin. It only drew out a more feral side of him, he wanted your marks, he needed your possession. Sweat rolled down his throat and you lapped at each bead, leaving the salt to linger on your tongue.
Caleb began to pant heavily, his pace stuttering as your walls fluttered around him. “Where do you want me?,” he rasped. You weren’t far behind, the coil inside you ready to snap with just the right amount of force. “Inside…fuck, inside me…”
He held your waist, grip like iron, driving into you again and again until you cried out—making a mess of his lap and leather seat. The warmth of his release spilled inside you, the sensation making you both whimper. Your bodies collapsed, the sky a shade of deep blue and the only sounds were chirping insects and labored breaths.
“We missed the sunset…,” you murmured. A breathy laugh left Caleb’s lips, “yeah, got a little distracted.” He shifted you in his lap, your gaze set on the sky littered with bright stars, his on you. “I’ve seen the sun set here a million times, from the ground and inside a cockpit—doesn’t compare you who’s in front of me right now.” Your lips met with languid sweeps, barely finding each other’s eyes in the dark. You climbed back to the passenger seat after finding your clothes thrown in every direction.
“Let’s get’cha back home,” Caleb hummed.
Sleep hung heavily on your eyes during the drive home and when you woke up again, you were in your bed, just like that night before. But when you rolled over, Caleb was asleep in that normally empty space.
He seemed to fill a lot of your empty spaces, whether purposeful or not, he was like glue that kept you held together.
~*~*~*~
Then he was gone again. Another flight mission, hoping to finally find who he scorned himself for losing. Eventually, Gideon’s aircraft was found, damaged beyond repair, that man inside gaunt—surviving on what rations he lad left. But he was found. He would be brought home. And the weight of dread on Caleb’s shoulders dissolved, left behind in deep space where he’d leave it to fade.
“I want you to meet him,” Caleb mused as you sat on the floor of his garage, piecing together a small model plane. The summer sun beat against your skin, you sipped lemonade and winced whenever you realized you grabbed Caleb’s glass—always extra sour.
Gideon would finally be released from his rehabilitation after being recovered from the crash sight. Caleb thought it would only be right to welcome him home properly with dinner. During those long months of waiting, he confessed to wanting something more serious. The word “yes” never shot of your mouth more quickly when he asked if you’d be his.
“He’s gonna flip when I tell him we’re dating.”
You smiled, handing him the last piece to the plane, “you think?”
“Definitely, he’s been trying to set me up with someone since college.”
“And with no luck?”
He scoffed, “more like no interest. Didn’t have the time for all that back then.”
Caleb looked at you, his gaze soft, like he wasn’t sure this was real. You by his side, his best friend being alive–a cruel voice gnawed at him like he didn’t deserve either.
“But now…I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t moved in across the street.”
An ache in your heart had you clutching at your chest. You thought similarly, what if you never stopped after your morning run? Let his words go in one ear and out the other?
But as you held his hand, tasting the sour lemonade off his lips, those ruminations were left abandoned with only room for what was to come.
*~*~*~
a/n: ahh, thank you for reading! :) this turned into a much longer project than anticipated. But if you enjoyed, please like, reblog and comment.
