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 usually always had some on him, the perks of working in a hospital with an endless supply of free condoms. But you figured the responsible girlfriend thing to do was to keep a box at your place, just in case. But maybe you hadn't thought that plan out entirely.
You almost feel a sense of kinship with men who've been sent to buy menstrual products, staring at an aisle of items you really don't know much about. So, you call the person you always call when you have a question.
"Hello?" Zayne's voice comes through after the first ring, because of course.
"What size is your dick?" You ask, thankful there's no one around to hear you.
"I'm sorry?" He sounds incredulous, though you know he heard you.
"Well, when you're hard. For the condoms. I'm kind of flying blind here. There's not exactly a size chart on these things." You inspect the back of a box just to be certain before putting it back. Cherry flavoured? Yuck.
"Oh. Well you'll have to grab a large. But it's not entirely necessary, I can pick up more at the hospital."
"If Yvonne sees you grabbing anymore condoms, she's gonna think we're sex addicts or something" It takes a minutes for the words to process, as you're busy scanning the boxes, trying to avoid things like "ribbed" and "glow in the dark."
"Wait...you're a large?" You hear him scoff almost incredulously.
"I'll try not to be offended by your surprise." He says, his tone flat as you laugh.
"Well, I'm just saying. Lucky me huh?" He sighs loudly, and you're sure he's pinching the bridge of his nose. Finally, you find a pack that looks good enough.
"Okay, these look good enough! Hopefully they fit you. If not, we'll probably have to do it raw." You say, relishing the choked noise you hear from the other side of the phone.
"You know what, I believe I'm mistaken. Get the small size."
hell, you didn’t even know you could do it yourself.
it all hit you like a freight train that night, tangled up in his bed, sweat-slicked sheets twisted around your legs.
you’d been fucking for what felt like hours — his thick cock slamming into you missionary style, your thighs spread wide, knees hooked over his hips as he pounded relentlessly.
every thrust stretched your soaked pussy to its limits, the obscene squelch of your juices filling the air.
you were a mess already, clit throbbing from the way he’d been rubbing it earlier with his thumb, your walls clenching greedily around him like they were trying to milk him dry.
but then it built — this weird, unfamiliar pressure deep in your core, like you had to piss but way more intense, bubbling up from your bladder and radiating through your swollen folds.
it scared you a little, made your body tense. “caleb — fuck, slow down-” you gasped, your voice breaking as you clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into his sweat-drenched skin.
his eyes lit up like you’d just handed him the keys to paradise.
that hungry, feral grin spread across his face, all teeth and sin, and instead of slowing, the bastard motivated himself.
“oh yeah? that’s it, baby girl.” he growled low and nasty, voice rough as gravel. “don’t you hold back on me.” before you could protest, his strong arms wrapped around you like iron bands, yanking your body flush against his.
he locked you in tight — chest to chest, your tits squished against his pecs, his hips pinning yours down so you couldn’t squirm away.
one hand gripped your ass cheek hard, fingers bruising the flesh as he spread you wider, the other tangled in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat for his teeth.
he went feral after that, jackhammering into you faster, harder — his cock pistoning like a machine.
“come on baby..” he snarled against your neck, biting down just hard enough to draw a whimper.
“i can feel it — you’re gonna fucking explode all over my dick.” the pressure skyrocketed, your bladder screaming, you thrashed in his grip, but he held you immobile, fucking you through it.
“fuck—caleb, i can’t—” you wailed, your voice a broken sob.
and then it hit—that feeling bursting inside you, your pussy convulsed violently around his cock, walls fluttering and squeezing as a gush of hot fluid erupted from you.
you felt it everywhere — your juices running down you, pooling under your ass, making everything slippery and filthy.
“fuuuuck..” caleb groaned, eyes wild with lust as he watched it happen, feeling the warm flood coat his shaft mid-thrust.
he didn’t stop—kept railing you through the orgasm, his cock churning your squirting pussy into a frothy mess, white cream from your arousal foaming at the base.
୨୧ — Caleb's palm cups your cheek, thumb brushing a tear from your cheek, smearing salt and sweat. "Pipsqueak, I…" he murmurs, guilt flickering across his features as he takes in your wrecked state- cum smeared thighs, your puffy, fucked out hole still weeping his seed onto the already wrecked sheets... body absolutely limp. "Shit. I went too far."
You try to reassure him, to push a weak 's'okay', but all that comes out is a garbled, wet mumble, your throat still raw from screaming and stuffed full of his cock earlier.
His knuckles brush a damp strand of hair from your temple, the touch startlingly soft after the bruising grip he'd used hours earlier. "Don't move a muscle," he orders before pressing a feather light kiss to your sweaty forehead, "not one."
He vanishes into the bathroom- click of the light, hiss of running water before returning with a warm washcloth.
The first swipe across your collarbone is heaven as he works with focused gentleness that steals your breath- wiping the mascara that threatens to stain your cheeks, the pearly streaks from your belly the, and the slick mess from your inner thighs. His thumb grazes your swollen folds, making you jolt. "Shhh. Hold still," he says softly, dabbing with infinite care at your tender, reddened flesh, "i've got you."
As he tends to you, his gaze fall on something in the corner of the bed. A small smile tugs at his lips as he reaches for the worn plush frog piloting a plane- a silly gift he gave you months ago that has somehow become a fixture in your shared space.
"Look who's here," he says, voice warm and playful as he makes the stuffed frog bob and weaves in front of your nose. "Mr. Frog was worried about you."
Despite your exhaustion, a smile breaks across your face. Caleb presses the little green pilot against your cheek in a playful "kiss", the childish gesture so at odds with the man who just fucked you senseless that you can't help but giggle. "Caaaleb," you finally manage, swatting at him weakly, "I'm okay." You nuzzle at Mr. Frog affectionately before looking up at Caleb, "We're both okay." and you feel how his arms lock tighter around you- not restraining, just anchoring.
His shoulders seem to release tension he didn't even know he was carrying as he gives you a gentle smile… his palm spreading protectively over where his daughter grows within you. "Both," he repeats softly, wonder and relief painting his voice as his thumb continues its gentle circles on your belly.
He stretches out beside you, gathering your tired body against his chest, his lips brushing your forehead as he pulls the blankets over you both. "My girls." he whispers with quiet happiness, and you feel his chin rest gently atop your head as he tucks the covers around your shoulders.
you’re currently sitting on the floor of sylus’s pristine, incredibly expensive closet, wearing one of his giant black button up shirts like it’s a dress. you’re also wearing his heavy leather boots. they’re about five sizes too big.
you take a tentative, wobbly step forward, stomping loudly. STOMP. STOMP. you raise your arms like a huge robot. “fear me,” you announce to the empty room, “i am the leader of onychinus. give me all your gold...and dark secrets!”
“is that right?” you hear a low voice say.
you freeze.
sylus is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watches you. he looks like he’s been standing there for a while. your face burns hot but you refuse to break character. you puff out your chest, “yes, hand over the goods, civilian!”
sylus dosen’t move. he just looks down at your feet, then up to the shirt that swallows your frame. a slow, dangerous smirk spreads across his face but his ruby eyes are soft and melted.
“you lack...a certain menace,” his deep voice rumbles, thick with amusement.
“hey, i have tons of menace!” you say, taking a step forward to prove your point, but your foot slips right out of the boot. you lose your balance and yelp, tumbling forward.
before you can fall, heavy, warm weight catches you. sylus has scooped you up by the waist with one hand; he lifts you effortlessly, laughing a low gravelly chuckle that vibrates against you. he dosen’t put you down. instead, he simply carries you over to the plush armchair, sitting down and keeping you right on his lap.
“hey!” you protest, kicking your feet. now one of his giant boots falls off entirely. “put me down, sir. i’m a threat.” you say with a that coy smile.
“mhm, a terrifying one,” sylus murmurs, reaching up with his index finger to boop your nose. “you’re drowning in my clothes, sweetie.”
“it’s comfortable,” you pout, crossing your arms.
sylus smiles. “they look better on you anyway,” he says smoothly. he wraps his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his clean scent enveloping you. he gives you a tight, playful squeeze that makes you gasp-laugh.
“sylus stop, it tickles!” you say, laughing, unable to stop.
“no,” he whispers against your skin, smirk widening as you squirm. “you invaded my closet. this is the penalty.”
