Extended Leave ♡ Part 5 (18+)
📖 Pt One 📖 Pt Two
📖 Pt Three 📖 Pt Four
▪ Fem!Caleb x Fem!Reader ▪ AU ▪ 18+ ▪ minors pls do not interact ▪ part 5 of my Extended Leave series ▪︎ 3,237 words
Blue light and relief. Worship. Crashing into each other at last.
cw/tags: fem!Caleb, fem!reader, AU, pilot!caleb, childhood friends to what are we?, slow burn, domestic intimacy, yearning, tension and tenderness, soft butch x soft femme, mutual pining, emotional repression, unspoken feelings, pining gone feral, watching/listening (mentioned), voyeurism (mentioned), soft dom!Caleb, service top, smut, sapphic romance, mutual obsession, quiet intensity, emotional intimacy, yearning, flirting, sapphic angst, possessive energy, low-key yandere!Caleb, jealousy, self-doubt, dirty talk, freak4freak, snapped tension, crying, edging, oral(f), fingering(f), pet names (pips[queek], baby, pretty/sweet girl, princess)
bunnie's looped songs for this part 🎧here🎧
full fic playlist 🎧here🎧
Although it's not necessary I do recommend playing the looped playlist while you read if you can (:
She exhales, and there's ten years in the way she kisses you then, her fingers reaching for the place that's been aching for them for days on end.
☆☆☆☆☆
Time folds. To your dismay, she still hasn't touched you yet. You are already soaking wet, waiting for her touch.
Caleb pulls back and tugs you down by the waist, so gently it feels like a cradle.
“Forgive me. I'm not going to make you wait much longer... I just... I need you just like this... if you'll let me do this right,” she murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear. Kisses there. Your throat, collarbones.
Your whimper under them, your hips buck, desperate.
"I've dreamt of this, so so many times... Just let me show you what I can do for you, okay?"
She shifts her weight and the bed shifts beneath you. Filtered through the curtains, light spills around you, a pale blue cast, an underwater dream, a piece of sky. The slats of the blinds paint stripes onto Caleb's shoulders and neck, your chest. She looks cut open by the light.
"You look so pretty I could cry," she whispers into your jaw. "I would keep you like this if I could, hanging, breathless. I've never seen you want me so bad."
You whine. "Caleb..."
"Shhh." She leans down to kiss you again. Every kiss is less clumsy than the last, but still a crashing wave of so much beyond the surface.
"You're too good to be tortured... I swear, I just want to savour you... is that okay, pretty girl?"
Your eyes shut and you nod. She's different. Not by much, but you like it. Even if she's wrapping you around her finger.
"I'm going to take your shirt off... I want to see you."
The shirt peels off before you can speak. You look at her as she takes you in. "So perfect..." She grips the shirt, balled in her hands. "This shirt used to be mine... were you wearing it when you came last night, pips?"
Your eyes shut and you're blushing hard as you bob your head in confirmation. She presses it to her face and breathes it in. She's snapped out of self control, and you get wetter as it happens.
She presses the shirt to her face again and breathes in like it’s a drug, like she could drown in it.
“Oh fuck,” she whispers, muffled against the fabric. “I shouldn’t like this as much as I do.”
You can’t tell if she’s talking to you or herself. You wonder if she’s going to keep it. Hide it somewhere. Sleep with it under her pillow when she leaves again.
Then she looks back down at you, shirt still in her hands. Her voice is hoarse. "I’ll never stop thinking about that. You, wearing me while you—” She shakes her head.
“Saying my name like you did... You knew I’d find out, didn’t you? You wanted me to know.”
You shake your head, breath caught, but your thighs squeeze together involuntarily. Her eyes go there.
“You little liar,” she murmurs, and there’s no malice in it. Just tender, yet filthy, worship. You’re in disbelief.
"You're ready for me to open those pretty legs? Show me what you have for me?"
Good god, she's making you dizzy. Your legs open, light shining between them. Your pink panties are soaked. You can feel it.
"You and these lacy things... I've taken care of 'em for you, n now they're soaked because of me? You'll drive me crazy... I don't even have to touch you there, it's wet, I can see... you must be aching, pips aren't you?"
She kisses down your stomach, slow and hungry, like she’s trying to memorize the shape of you. You twitch when her lips graze just below your navel.
Your breath catches. Her hair brushes your inner thighs.
Then she stops. Rests her cheek against your hip bone. Eyes closed.
“Do you know how many times I thought about this?” she says, almost absently. “You, begging me. Your pretty thighs shaking. My name in your mouth and nothing to brace you but my hands.”
You whimper. Your hips arch, but she presses her palm flat on your pelvis. Not yet.
“I used to touch myself sometimes when I was alone in the cockpit, you know, at the base too, in that lonely fucking bed.” she murmurs, almost like she’s confessing a sin. “Quiet, careful... Thinking about you laying in my old bed, in this fucking shirt. Sucking your fingers because you missed me.”
You let out a sound you can’t name. It breaks in your throat. Mostly because you know she's not wrong.
“Shhh, shhh, I know,” she says, eyes finally open again, wide and wild. “Me too. It’s too much, isn’t it?”
Her fingers hook into the waistband of your panties.
“I’m gonna see you now. I’ll be good. I’ll be gentle. But I’m gonna look, and you’re not gonna hide.”
The fabric drags down slow—wet, clinging to your lips—and you swear she moans under her breath as it leaves your skin. She keeps them around your knees, not even bothering to take them off fully. Her fingers ghost down the inside of your thigh like a prayer. You twitch. She watches you, (always watching) then her eyes swallow you.
"S-so pretty..." she whispers, and you feel small and wet and pulsing.
"Please..."
"You're so good to me, poor thing... I'm gonna make it all better, mkay? You just gotta tell me, do you want my hands or my mouth? I can't promise it'll be perfect, I've saved everything for you... but I'll keep going until it feels like heaven, you've just gotta ride it out with me. You're brave, you can use your words..."
She brushes over your panties just once with two fingers and gasps out a moan at the same time as you. Your hips buck into it, you feel so desperate.
"Oh my god... is that for me, princess?"
"Yes," you rasp out. It's been for days, she had yet to claim it.
"Careful, you can't take that back..."
Your lips are pressed together, your legs are shaking. The waiting is torturous despite her earlier promise not to. You eyes lock onto hers. You can feel the look on your face, and you know it's pathetic, she doesn't have to tell you. But you beg, again, just like always.
"Caleb..."
Her moan is more of a whimper when you pull her name from your mouth like that.
"Please... I can't—"
She looks at you, blue, dashed by the lights. She looks so pretty, so strong, so wild and just for you, that you can hardly take it.
"My hands or my mouth? I can't until you choose, I know it's hard to think like this—I can't choose for you..."
You try to speak but only breath comes out. You reach for her wrist, try to guide her—but she stops you again.
“Say it,” she murmurs. “I need to hear you pick.”
“...Your mouth,” you whisper, the words so fragile it’s like breaking a spell.
Her eyes widen. “You sure?”
You nod, and this time she doesn’t ask again.
She kisses your jaw, then all the way down your body, from your neck to your belly. Wet, sloppy, greedy kisses.
The stripes of blue light shift across your thighs, her shoulders. She kisses down your stomach in slanted shadows, each press of her lips a new stroke across your skin. You swear the sunlight is holding you both down. Your breath shudders, hips and fingers twitch.
Her breath is warm and damp when she descends to the space between your legs, lying on her belly, propped up by her forearms. Her left hand slides to your hip to press you down, the other reaches to hold your hand.
"If I get too lost and you need me to stop, grip your nails into my hand as hard as you can, okay? I can't guarantee anything else is gonna pull me away from you once I start."
You blink. You don't want to have to hurt her.
As if reading your mind, she squeezes your hand. "I'm a strong girl, pipsqueak, you won't hurt me."
Her head hangs just above your core, and you swear you feel her shake.
“You smell like you’ve been waiting for me your whole life,” she whispers. Then her lips part, and she presses the softest kiss to your clit—like it’s sacred.
You cry out without meaning to. Her hands tighten—one at your hip, the other still interlocked with yours.
“Shhh, I’ve got you, baby,” she breathes against you. “I’ve got you now. I’ll never let anyone else see you like this. I swear on everything.”
Her lips finally descend, and it’s like a gasp gets pulled out of your soul.
Her mouth moves slowly, lovingly, and it’s unbearable how gentle she starts. Licking like she’s trying to write something inside of you. Like she wants to live there.
☆☆☆☆☆
It’s slow, so slow. She licks like she’s testing the temperature of a flame. Your thighs jerk. You moan.
“That’s it, sweet girl,” she murmurs, eyes flicking up. “You don’t even know how good you taste. I could stay here forever.”
You can’t answer. You can only clutch the sheets. The light paints her shoulder blades in ribbons. Her hair brushes your thighs like silk. You forget what day it is. What year it is. You could drown in the feeling of her.
You try to hold on—to what, you’re not sure. Your breath, your sanity, some last shred of yourself before she completely takes it.
The Caleb you're used to is patient. This Caleb is not. She's slow but taking, she kisses you like time doesn’t exist. Like this was what clocks were built for.
She doesn’t say anything for a while. Just breathes, licks, worships. And when her lips wrap around you—when her tongue flicks like she’s spelling her name—you cry out again. You think you feel your heartbeat in your throat, your toes, your scalp.
Her grip on your hand tightens.
“You’re so sweet,” she murmurs between licks, “and so loud… You never used to be this loud. Is this who you are with me now? Do I get to keep her?”
Your hips arch up, but her arm locks you down.
“I knew it,” she groans, almost in disbelief. “You were made for me.”
You pant her name. You’re unraveling. She moans into you.
Your legs begin to shake. She doesn’t stop. Won’t. Not until you say her name again.
“Caleb—Caleb—” you sob, voice gone thin. “I—”
Her eyes snap up. The obsession in them is glassy and you want it, you want it so bad it swallows you.
“That’s right, baby. Let me hear it.”
She suckles you, slowly, then deeper. Her nose presses against your skin. Her hand leaves yours just long enough to reach between your thighs, and when she pushes a finger in, slow but sudden. You jolt like you’ve been struck by lightning.
You cry out her name again, and she laughs, shaky and low and broken.
“Oh my god. That’s it. That’s what I needed. You saying my name like that. You… taking me like this.”
She kisses your thigh. Adds a second finger. Your body’s unspooled thread.
“You’ve got no idea what I’ve saved up for you,” she whispers. “What I’d do to make you cum for me. I’d—”
She falters. Her head drops back down. She licks again.
You’re not going to last. You can feel it.
And she can, too.
“Don’t hold it,” she pleads, almost angry. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. I need it. Let me feel you fall apart. Let me have it.”
You reach for her wrist again. This time she lets you. Holds you. Fingers buried deep, tongue gentle, too gentle—
But only for a moment.
Then her rhythm changes. Becomes purposeful. Consuming. Curling. Her teeth graze you and you scream.
She groans like she’s the one climaxing.
☆☆☆☆☆
The light splits around you.
There’s too much of her—mouth, fingers, breath, voice, Caleb Caleb Caleb—you can’t hold it anymore.
You try to say her name. It comes out as something else. A sob. A vow. A confession.
There’s a second where you don’t know who’s holding who.
The sound of your name is still ringing in her mouth.
Your thighs are trembling. Her hands won’t let go.
She’s still between your legs, forehead pressed to your thigh, like she’s praying.
Her fingers haven’t moved. Neither have you.
“I’m still here,” she murmurs.
Your eyes are prickled with tears. Hers are too, her fingers move out of you with the lewdest wet sound, a near-pop.
"God, Caleb... Where did you learn how to do that?"
She doesn’t answer right away.
Just breathes against your thigh, her fingers sticky where they rest against your hip, her mouth swollen, her chest rising with something wild.
Then:
“I didn’t,” she says. Her voice sounds dazed. Wrecked. “I just thought about it. Constantly.”
She kisses your leg. Another. Slower.
“I thought about what it would sound like,” she murmurs, voice trembling now. “How soft you'd be. How sweet you'd taste. What you’d look like when you came for me. I just… paid attention.”
Your chest heaves. You can feel the flutter of her breath between your thighs still, and her fingers are twitching like she’s resisting the urge to go again.
“I didn’t even know I’d be good at it,” she adds, finally lifting her head. Her face is pink. Her eyes are glassy. “I just knew I’d never forgive myself if I got it wrong.”
You can barely breathe.
“You didn’t,” you whisper.
Caleb stares at you, like your praise is too much, another wave she’s about to drown under.
“I want to stay here,” she says, softly. “I want to stay inside of this. I want to sleep in the sound of you falling apart.”
You reach for her face. Thumb brushing her cheekbone, fingers tracing the side of her damp jaw.
“You can,” you whisper. “For as long as you want.”
She laughs—quiet, breathless, half-collapsed against your thigh like she’s resting there. Her voice is hoarse when she speaks again.
“I... saved it all for you.”
The words fall like a confession. Her breath is still warm on your skin. You feel raw and kissed open and so full of her you think you'll burst. She sucks her fingers clean.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you whisper, flushed, trembling.
She just hums, fingers slipping free of her mouth. “Like what?”
“Like you’re still starving.”
She shifts, pulls herself up and forward, crawling until she’s kneeling between your legs, until her face is level with yours again. Her expression is unreadable for a second, wild, tender, broken, but still soft.
Then she says, “I am.”
You don’t know what to do with it, so you reach for her. Her arms wrap around you immediately, strong and warm, and she holds you like she thinks you might disappear. Your breath shudders against her neck.
Neither of you speaks for a while. There’s no sound but the birds outside. The slow drip of her breath. The whisper of her fingers stroking your body under the blankets. You don’t know how much time passes. Minutes, maybe. A whole hour.
You don’t move.
Until, “Pipsqueak?”
You tilt your head, eyes still closed. “Mhm?”
“You’re shaking.”
“I know.”
“Are you cold?”
“No.”
She adjusts you, presses herself tighter to your chest, like she could shield you with her ribs. Like she could rebuild the entire world with her body to keep you inside it.
Then, “Was it too much?”
You blink. “No. God. No.”
She kisses your hair.
“I didn’t mean to…” she starts, but trails off.
You pull back enough to look at her. Her face is open, bare in the pale light. Her lips are swollen. Her eyes are red.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks.
The question is so quiet it nearly breaks you.
You reach up, cup her cheek.
“No,” you whisper. “You did something right.”
Her eyes flutter shut under your touch, like she’s in pain. Or relief. Or both.
Then she opens them again.
“You said my name like it meant something new,” she says. “You don’t know what that did to me.”
Your throat tightens.
“I think I do.”
She leans in again—this kiss is softer, quieter. Just a brush. A thank-you. A promise. Her hands never leave your waist.
Her eyes close. Her lashes flutter against your hand.
“I’m scared,” she says, finally. “It’s too much. It’s always been too much with you.”
You nod. Your throat is tight.
“I know,” you say. “Me too.”
When she finally lays her head on your chest, it feels like your whole world exhales.
She’s trembling again.
You bury your fingers in her hair. Her breath steadies. Then slows.
You think she’s asleep until she murmurs—
“I’m not done with you.”
You blink.
“Not today,” she clarifies. “Not ever. You understand?”
"Is that a promise?"
She doesn't reply right away. Her arms wrap tighter. You kiss her head.
In your arms, she feels small and like the whole world at the same time. A dream within a dream. The galaxy within a girl. Your undoing and the person you know best.
Her face is damp on top of you, she trembles a little.
"Caleb? Are you crying?"
She nods. Doesn't move.
She mumbles into you.
"Now that I've had you like this, I will be lost if I can't come back to you. Everything I've ever done was holding the fact that I would need to come back around to you. There's no other way now. I really will never be able to return to anything else."
Again, you're crying with her.
You wonder where she gets all of this doubt from, all this fear. You can still feel her all over, inside of you.
The light has moved. Shadows stretch differently now. You think it must be past two, maybe three.
"Remember when I was a kid, what you would do during storms when the power went out? I wouldn't move, I was so afraid of the dark... I'd cry and cry but I was scared to call for you. So you’d run around the house yelling 'lighthouse, lighthouse! Mei mei lost at sea!' with a flashlight in your hands. Until you'd find me. Or until I was brave enough to follow the sound of your voice or the light beams."
She laughs raspy, breathy, and small, "Yeah. Of course I remember... Why would you bring that up now?"
"I think... I'm brave enough. Brave enough to look for you now. If you can't make it to me on your own, I'll clear the path." You lift her face and she looks at you tear-stained and awestruck. "Even though lighthouses don't move." You mock, a smile blooming on both your faces, giggles erupting. A break in the seriousness. A pearl inside the shell of time.
“I’ll be good,” she whispers. “I’ll be normal. I’ll try.”
You laugh, breathless. “Don’t. I like you like this.”
She blinks, then smiles, hiding her face inside of your chest.
“God help us both,” she mumbles.
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