୨୧ ― Caleb has spent his entire adolescence and young adulthood rejecting every admirer who threw themselves at him- returning their homemade lunches, turning down their confessions, never once letting anyone get close enough to touch him like that.
He was too focused. Too loyal. Too busy dreaming about the girl who'd grown up beside him, the one whose birthday made up half of his passwords.
His girl.
And now, finally, after all this time, he has you exactly where he's dreamed of you for almost a decade- beneath him, looking up at him with those wide, trusting eyes.
God, she's really here. She's really letting me-
His internal thought cuts off when he hears your sweet voice.
"C-Caleb-," you whine pitifully, fat tears beginning to bead along your lower lashes as you squirm beneath him in his apartment you've slowly been turning into a home... "I- I don't think-"
"What's wrong?" He sounds almost boyish in his confusion, purple eyes soft with concern as he brushes sweaty hair from your forehead, "Did I do something-"
"S'too big."
He blinks, tilting his head like the adorable idiot he is, "I'm... no, I'm sure I'm average? I mean, I haven't really compared, but…" his words trail off…
Caleb can do nothing but stare...
How your poor little cunt is struggling, quivering, lips stretched obscenely trying to swallow the first few inches of him...
His length is ridiculous- he realizes that now with sudden, dawning clarity, watching nearly half of his shaft still jutting out from where your bodies meet.
Despite how wet he's gotten you with his fingers and tongue and desperate grinding- despite the slick mess coating your inner thighs, the way you'd gushed around two of his knuckles, the way you'd soaked his chin when he'd eaten you out… you're still barely able to take him.
He'd always assumed those whispered comments from classmates back in high school were idle gossip. Locker room flattery he was too humble to believe -even now during showers on the fleet-. Girls giggling behind cupped hands, guys clapping his shoulder with that knowing look...
But now-
Fuck.
Now he understands as he watches you try to adjust.
Watching how your belly flutters with each shallow breath, watching your thighs tremble where they're spread wide around his hips. Watching the visible bulge of himself pressing up against the soft give of your lower stomach when he sinks another inch deeper and you let out this broken little whimper that makes his balls tighten.
He's ruining you. Reshaping you. Your tight little hole wasn't built for this, wasn't made for a cock this fat, this long, this mean- and he can't decide if the thought makes him want to pull out and apologize or grab your hips and bury himself to the hilt just to watch you fall apart.
"Shh, shh, hey." His voice has dropped low, rougher than you've ever heard it, and there's something dark flickering in those usually playful eyes. That possessive edge he's hidden for years, now surfacing as he stares down at where his thick cockhead is trying desperately to sink into your fluttering hole, "I've waited so long for this, Pips... For you. We're going to make it fit, okay? I'll take care of you, just like i always have."
His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing away the tears that threatened to spill. So gentle. So caring. So him.
And then his other hand pins your hip to the mattress as he snaps forward, burying every fat inch inside you in one brutal thrust.
"AHHH- CALEB!!" Your scream tears through his quiet apartment, back arching clean off the sheets as your cunt is forced to stretch around him, walls clenching and spasming helplessly against the intrusion.
It's too much -he's too much-, splitting you open on a cock that has no business being attached to a man who watches you like that. All soft, starving devotion. A loyal pup at the feet of its goddess, even while he wrecks you.
"Pips- oh, fuck, there we go," Caleb groans, and his voice is absolutely wrecked, those pretty eyes rolling back slightly as he bottoms out. His pelvis grinds against yours, the root of him stuffed so deep you can feel him in your goddamn stomach. "You're so tight- shit, is it always like this? Is this-"
"Y-you're my f-first too, you idiot," you sob, and something breaks in his expression.
First. I'm her first. She waited for me too.
"Oh, Pipsqueak," he breathes, and now both hands are cradling your face while his hips stay perfectly still to let you adjust. His cock twitches inside you, and you keen. "My sweet girl. I didn't know. I didn't-" He drops his forehead to yours, breath ragged, "I thought- I would've been gentler, I would've-"
"N'just-" You gulp for air, body quaking, "just stay still. M'need to -hah- adjust"
He nods, pressing apologetic kisses all over your tear stained face while his massive length pulses inside your stretched out cunt. But even as he soothes you, that darker part of his mind is calculating.
If I keep her on my cock long enough... if I fuck her through it over and over... her body will learn. She'll mold to me. Only me. She won't be able to take anyone else after this...
Good.
And when your walls finally relax enough for him to move, rolling his hips in a slow, devastating grind that makes your eyes roll back... Caleb learns something else about himself that night...
zayne ⋮ he's too overwhelmed seeing you in white .ᐟ caleb ⋮ you just cannot get your hair right .ᐟ xavier ⋮ your wedding is in 5 hours and you haven't slept a wink .ᐟ rafayel ⋮ he finally gets to fuck his bride .ᐟ sylus ⋮ he's not allowed to see you .ᐟ
CW :☆: MDNI! unprotected sex (p in v), semi-public sex, blindfolding, spit play, overstimulation, edging, dirty talk, thigh-fucking, creampie, rafayel nearly ebbing, LIs being mushy
ZAYNE LI ☆
It’s a modest wedding—just close friends and family gathered to bless the two of you. Still, you’re getting married. So here you are, dressing together, and Zayne—god, zayne, is overwhelmed at the sight of you in white. Ready to marry him.
And he doesn’t know what to do with it than to—
“y-yes, use me.” His hand comes up to your chin, grip trembling as he pulls you into a messy, desperate kiss, your lipstick smearing across his mouth. Your wedding dress is bunched at your waist, layers swallowing your husband-to-be as he pistons his hefty dick into you from below. You grind down into him, fingers tangled in his slicked-back hair, holding him there.
“hah—! how are you deeper than before?” you mewl, face in his neck, sucking marks into his heated skin. “can feel you s’deep…”
“you can, can’t you?” he bites back a sound only for it to rip through as a whimper. Your hot, gummy walls spasm around the whole of his length and his hand spreads across your back, holding you flush to him as his hips falter.
His cock twitches inside you before stilling. “on second thought, stay still.” he pulls away. “Let me move. We can’t have you getting too hot.”
He’s moving before you can nod. And all you can do is clutch him tight while his cock grinds into your cervix at each long stroke of his. Your knees dig into the strong muscles of his thighs.
“mmfuuck—!” you cry, eyes squeezing shut.
“spread your legs. We’ll ruin your dress.” His legs part, guiding you wider for him. and somehow, it gives him enough leverage to pull out of you alllll the way out and then bury himself to the hilt, dragging his thick cock over every sensitive inch of your walls in lewd schlick schlick schlicks despite the layers.
His hand disappears in your dress, fingers brushing over the lace garter around your thigh and then higher to part your soaked folds.
“w-wait I’m gonna cum.” You tell him. his pace grows desperate.
“mngh… don’t worry,” he pants, losing whatever composure he had left. “I am too.”
His thumb finds your clit, moving through your slick—down to your hole—where your puffy pussy lips are stretched around him to the limit—and back up to the throbbing bud.
waves of heat roll over your body as you cum with a silent cry. You feel him jump in you, balls tightening against your ass. “finish in me,” you tell him.
He lets out a strangled moan—unable to muster up the composure to protest—spurting jets of warmth in you, pumping you full of his load. Your spasming cunt wriiings out every last drop of release.
He pulls your face close to his, nose bumping with yours as you come down together. He places a small, shy kiss on the bridge of your nose.
“shall we go get married now?”
CALEB XIA ☆
It was supposed to be right. And it was—on paper. It was a wedding ripped right out of the cheesy dramas you binge. except. Your hair didn’t get the memo. Your bridesmaids sat helpless while you handled it in tears—only to toss the curling wand away.
“heyy, what’s wrong?” caleb invites himself in the room. The women step out immediately. Screw the not-seeing-the-bride-before-the-wedding bad luck. This was bad enough.
You sniffle, pressing your face into his chest. “caleb it’s all falling apart…” you look up at him with teary eyes and before you can even stop yourself, your lips crash against his.
“fuck baby—you’re extra soft today, mm?” his long cock pummels into you. his hand reaches down, peeling away a layer of your dress. “hold it up f’me, pips.”
You’ve clutching the thick layers against your chest like your life depends on it while your fiancé absolutely obliterates your leaky cunt one thrust at a time. “s-slow down ‘leb…” you whimper, back arched like a bow for him.
“slow down? how do you plan on making it on time to our wedding?” he chuckles, leaning down to spread your swollen, slick coated pussy lips to reveal your pulsing little bud for him. he drools at the sight. And doesn’t let it go to waste. His warm spit lands on your aching bud, trickling down to mix with the juices you ooze out.
He watches the way your poor, overstretched cunny still manages to swallow him—and god he knows he’s too big for you but look at you. tears prickling at your eyes, whimpering under him dressed in white to be married to him. how on earth did he get so lucky?
“m’so clooose—!” you whine, thighs attempting to press together.
“good god, pips. Y’look so pretty round my cock…” he groans. His hand curls around your thighs hiking it up, letting his fat cockhead drill its way into your sinfully soft channel. His thumb brushes against your clit, rubbing it in tight circles, making you yelp beneath him.
it doesn’t take long for you to finish, clamping around him in wet pulses that his eyes rolling to the back of his skull. Still, he keeps moving. He keeps pounding you through that vision blanking orgasm, until you’re practically sobbing under him.
“mmf—please… s’too much—hic!” and still, you make no attempt to escape. You’re exactly where you want to be—your overstimmed pussy being bullied into another orgasm.
“jus’ like that, keep clamping baby. I’m right there…” he pants, leaning down to kiss a tear away. “you’ll let me cum in you, right? Let caleb stuff you full?”
“y-yes! yes please—oh?!” His dirty talk alone tips you over the edge again, milking him for his release. And he does. Ropes after ropes after ropes of hot, creamy cum pumping into your pussy.
And when you finally calm, he gathers your hair, fixing it into an elegant low bun—murmuring quiet “thank you”s through sniffles for marrying him.
XAVIER SHEN ☆
“I couldn’t sleep either.” You jolt at your fiancé’s voice behind you. You’re ecstatic. And in that excitement, you were dressed and ready before time. In 5 hours, the wedding you dreamed of begins. an early morning ceremony, walking the aisle under stars, sealing it with a kiss as sunlight finally breaks.
The venue lies hushed as you stand together on the balcony, gazing down at the flowered arch where you’ll soon be married.
“xav—ngh!” you grip the railing harder. Your pussy moulds so perfectly around your fiance’s cock, stretched obscenely wide.
His hand reaches around your throat to tip your chin up to have you watch the place you’d soon say vows at. “a-are you sure this will help you sleep?” his voice sounds too normal for his actions.
He’s nearly jackhammering into your velvety hole, causing it to squelch and ooze more of your love juices down your thighs. His foot nudges your legs farther apart, the need to drill deeper into you consuming him enough to bury his face in your hair and groan low.
“mmhm, mhm ye—ah!” you nod, hips pushing back to meet his deep pounding. “don’t want eye bags.”
By the pace at which he’s ramming into your pussy heat, you can already imagine it—imagine yourself walking toward him with shaky legs, his cum still leaking down your thighs. Fuck. There’s no way you were going to clean up after your session. Your legs are quivering at this point, held apart only by his knee.
“alright,” he murmurs, halting entirely. You bite back a whine. “keep them pressed if you want it that way.” He pulls out. His fingers find your gaping hole, two plunging in to coax out translucent strings of your arousal and his pre cum, smearing it between your thighs. And that’s when you feel the fat head of his cock again—pushing its way where your plush thighs press the tightest, and yet, making sure that your swollen clit isn’t left out.
“you keep looking at the arch,” he leans in, one of his hands guiding his cock between your syrupy slit. Your thighs press harder. You’re so close but there’s no way you’re cumming empty like this. He lets out a chuckle, soft enough to be mistaken as innocent. “are you going to cum to the thought of our wedding?”
He breaches your puffy lips again, sliding in with ease with the lewd amount of slick gathered there. “filthy girl… I’m right.” His hand presses down on your lower back, arching you for him as he buries himself balls-deep.
“oh! Hic—just… just let me cum, already!” you clamp around him, all the obscene ideas making your pussy walls stir.
Xavier’s fingers spread your ass cheeks for him and he sinks deeper than ever. You let out a choked sob—very close to rutting your needy clit against the glass if he keeps you on edge any longer. “it’s okay. I’m thinking of that too,”
He pinches your clit once and that has you creaming around his pulsing length. Your pussy clamping around him like heartbeat has him finishing too, keeping you plugged like that for a moment until you come down from the high.
“there’s no way I can sleep after this,” you pout. Xavior huffs out a fond laugh behind you.
“pfft okay, we’ll take a long nap together after the wedding,”
RAFAYEL QI ☆
You wanted to give him something unforgettable for your wedding—something truly special, because he’s been certain about marrying you for as long as you can remember. No exaggeration. And you knew simple nudes wouldn’t cut it.
Until an evil idea pops in your mind. You were no stranger to his “bride kink”. So why don’t you just play with that?
“fuckfuckfuck cutiieee,” he whines pathetically.
his eyes are snapped shut. All he can do is push his stuttering hips flush against yours, feeding your leaking cunt more of his stout inches—all while holding your dress as far away as he can from the mess. Your hole pulses, dribbling out a mixture of your cream and his pre cum that his angry red head can’t stop spilling.
“mngh you’re suuuch an angel—hah!” he grips your thighs, holding them apart as he destroys your overstimulated cunt. “such an angel for letting me fuck this pretty pussy in your wedding dress babymmff—”
He’s made you cum several times—on the pink muscle in his filthy mouth, his slender fingers and even on his pretty cock. And yet, he hasn’t finished once—holding back for lord knows what.
“ra-raf s’enough already!” you whine. It only spurs him more—he buries himself to the hilt, nudging your spongy spot, now swollen from his cruel overstimulation. “we’re gonna be late. Just cum!” your hips chase his as he pulls back and then with a lewd schliiick, slides back home.
“I know I know,” he rasps out too quickly. He’s flushed, dazed. Delirious. And god help you, it’s pushing you closer to that delicious edge. “wanna hold it out. Wanna tattoo the patterns of your pussy walls onto my dick,”
You let out a groan at that, walls fluttering around him in response. He starts moving once again. long brutal strokes, massaging you perfectly, warming you for yet another orgasm.
“I’m gonna cum…” you tell him, your hand coming down to rub your clit. He frowns before swatting your hand away with a pout, replacing it with his.
“me too,” he says fucking finally. “m’gonna fill my pretty little bride up.” he angles his cock to your sweet spot, making you cum so hard that you see stars.
“ohhh baby fuck—!” he groans deep, hips faltering as he spills into you. “take my cum, my pretty bride. Love feeding your womb…” he pumps his load into you, as deep as your body can take it. Until he begins to melt—
you nearly kick him away before he can start again.
“ow! What was that for?” he looks down, momentarily admiring the trail of white dribbling from your hole before he jumps to his feet.
“uh-oh uh-oh!” he grabs a rag and cleans you up in time.
And later, as you walk down the aisle toward him, you both can’t stop breaking into ugly, snotty laughter at the memory.
SYLUS QIN ☆
“boss lady!”
“boss-man’s back!”
The only downside to marrying the leader of Onychinus was the interruptions—even on your wedding day. You believed Sylus when he said you wouldn’t have to dirty your dress over “pests,” that he’d handle it himself. Still, that didn’t stop you from pacing, restless as you waited for him to return.
“how scandalous,” he lets out a rumble of laugh as you fuck yourself on his impossibly fat dick. “my fiancé ravaging her husband-to-be while our guests outside wait for us to be wed,”
“consummating our marriage before we’re even ma—"
“mmffuck! B-be quiet, sylus.” His cockhead brushes against your sweet spot and you keep him there, grinding.
His fingers hook under the blindfold to see that fucked out expression on your face that only his dick manages to poke out of you. “do-don’t! keep it on.” You swat his hand away. He chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender.
“I can’t see you before the ceremony but you can fuck me? you’re only following rules that are conveni—” you silence him with a kiss, teeth sinking into his plump lower lip. He hisses, before kissing you fervently, holding you still as he pistons his cock into you, just where you want it. You sob into his mouth—all which he happily swallows.
He flips the two of you. “sylus don’t take it—”
“mm im hurt, kitten. do you truly think i need to see you to fuck you proper?” with that, he’s dragging you to his hips, sheathing himself back into you.
“sy o-oh!” your voice cracks as you let out a scream—too far gone to care about the people murmuring outside. “m’gonna cum,”
Sylus leans down, his hot breath fanning over your temple. “I know you were worried. But we are getting married.” He promises, his pace slowing to deep, long thrusts—still managing to knock the air out of your lungs. You sob out, nodding in agreement. “right after I make you cream,”
His hips slam into yours, each thrust punching out choked sounds out of you. his fingers find your clit, gathering all that syrup you’ve dribbled for him. and ohhh the way he touches you down there is nothing short of obscene. A stark contrast to your perfect, innocent white wedding dress you’re getting fucked in.
He massages your pussy lips, fingers moving from your wide-stretched hole, to your clit and back down. he parts your slit only to close your puffy pink lips back around his length as he spears into you with reckless abandon.
Your back feels like it snapped in two as you finish, chanting his name. one more thrust into your juicy, quivering hole has him pumping his thick load into you.
“am I to marry you in this?” he plays with the edge of the cloth over his eyes, still huffing.
caleb checks if he'd fit inside
size difference, size kink, excessive use of gege
He was kind, and gentle, and patient. That was how you knew him. Even when tension radiated off his body after a long absence with the fleet. Even when you pestered him, pushed him, secretly hoping he might snap and finally, finally let you make it better.
It's no different now, as he sits there across from you, helping you finish a model plane you'd been working on for weeks.
You crawl across the carpet to him, frustrated with the fiddly parts. "I can't make them fit," you pout, holding out two pieces for inspection.
"Hm?" he hums, placing his own little piece of the project down beside him. "Let me see."
You watch him work on slotting the two parts together, his large, vascular hands manipulating the delicate plastic with a gentleness that reminded you of yourself––of the restraint he showed when holding you.
He was bigger, after all. So much bigger. All of him.
"There," he says, holding out the expertly joined pieces for you to take. "They fit."
"You forced them."
He looks at the pieces, then to you. "Nah, they fit perfectly. See?" He gestures for you to take them––to see for yourself.
You refuse, unmoving.
He tilts his head. "What's wrong?"
"You're stronger than me."
His lips twitch a little in one corner. "Only a little."
You shake your head, frowning.
"Alright," he says, "Much stronger. Happy?" He asks, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
"And bigger."
His eyes drop, analysing, like he hasn't noticed before. Then, a little smile. "Only a little."
You crawl a little closer. Settling on your knees in front of him. "Much bigger."
"Is that right?" he questions, amused.
"Look," you say, holding your palm up for him to meet with his own. His eyes make a slight flick away from your face to your joined hands—to the way his fingers curl over yours comfortably.
"Maybe I just have very… very, large hands," he says as his fingers make a path down your palm to wrap around your wrist. His eyes flick across your face. Then, "Should we check the rest of me, too? Check how much bigger I am?"
He was teasing. Playing. Testing. You could turn around and return to your model, and he'd continue on just as he had before: a calm, warm presence.
Instead, you untuck your legs from beneath you, and keeping your eyes on his, you lower yourself onto your back––hair splayed out across the carpet. He’s pulled a little towards you as he refuses to release your wrist, angling down over you.
A pause.
"Alright," he says finally, much like he had when you'd passed him your two difficult plane parts. "Let gege see."
He lifts himself to his knees and shuffles even closer. Then he lifts your legs and arranges them around his waist and hips, slotting himself up against you.
"Hm," he hums, looming over you, blocking out the sun through the window behind him. "You do look very small like this." His hand snakes up your thigh. A smile pulls at his lips. "You'll stay still for me while I check, won't you? You can be good for gege and stay nice and still.”
Despite your nod––a silent promise to obey, to be good––he keeps his grip on your ankle as he works to undo the button at his waistband. Control. You didn’t mind it at all. Control was safe.
And when he shoves his pants down just below his ass, he closes the gap between you again, pressing himself between your thighs.
His movements are slow, precise, like they’d been as he manipulated the tiny little plastic pieces. A hand snaking its way up your calf. His warm palm wrapping around your thigh as his heavy cock, confined in dark briefs, rests against your white cotton underwear.
“See?” you squeak as he rocks his hips once against you. “All of you is bigger. We wouldn’t fit.”
“Wouldn’t fit?” he questions, mocking.
Then, without warning, he hooks his thumb into the waistband of his briefs and tugs them down to free himself. Hard, and a little pink at the tip, it adds to his looming presence over you.
Using one hand to hold your hips slightly off the ground, up against him nice and close, he uses the other to press his cock down against your belly.
His head tilts a little.
“I could make it fit,” he announces, sounding a little distracted, eyes fixed where he measures himself against you. “Would stretch your pretty little hole open,” he says. “Might hurt a little… But you could bite my hand, yeah? You can take it out on gege.”
You shift a little, starting to squirm.
“Might just take the tip…” he continues as his hand works a little over himself. “But if you were really good for me… so, so good… you could hold on to me tight and let me sink all the way inside… would fill your belly up nice and deep… but we’d fit. Gege promises.”
