Imagine Sylus being so pussy drunk that he doesn't even process that he's overstimulating the life out of you?
You've already snapped your thighs shut around his head, one hand pushing desperately against his hair as if it will somehow detach him from your poor, throbbing clit.
Your entire body is writhing to get away from him.
But his hands are iron-clad in their grip on your skin. You're not going anywhere, even as you manage to fight through the overwhelming pleasure and twist your upper half. Grabbing at the pillows, the sheets, anything for leverage to pull yourself up the bed.
But, Sylus holds firm, mouth latched on to your slippery cunt. You're nearly begging, trying anything to somehow dislodge your beast of a lover from your cunt.
Imagine somehow being able to get yourself from your back to your hands and knees.
Trying so hard to crawl away on trembling legs but you just can't seem to make them move fast enough.
Not that Sylus is letting you get very far. Large arms encompass your lower half in a bear hug, and his face is smushing itself embarrassingly deep into your sloppy sex.
Succumbing to the fact that you're not escaping him, nor are you escaping his eager mouth. Melting into the pillows, slack jawed and watery eyed as you fully give in to the pleasure he's giving you.
Sylus isn't quite about it either, no, he's a loud eater.
He's moaning and groaning into your cunt, slobbering down your thighs, nuzzling his entire head into the warmth between them.
you've known this for a while, but it's never been more apparent than right now, with him sprawled on his bed, that infuriatingly cocky smirk plastered across his stupidly handsome face.
"come on," he says, voice dripping with condescension as he leans back against the headboard. "you really think you could take control? during a makeout?"
he laughs like the idea is absurd. "pips, you're way too soft for that. too sweet."
his eyes gleam with challenge, that teasing glint that's always gotten under your skin. he's so sure of himself, so convinced that he's the one who calls the shots. always has been. the way he towers over you, the way he pins you down, the way he makes you whimper his name. he thinks that's just how it is. how it'll always be.
"i dare you," he continues, leaning forward now, close enough that you can smell his cologne. "try to control me. i bet you couldn't even if you wanted to."
something snaps inside you.
"bet," you say simply.
his smirk widens. "yeah?"
"yeah."
before he can say anything else, you're on him. your lips crash against his, and for a moment, he responds eagerly, his hands coming up to grip your waist like he always does. but then you bite his lower lip.. hard enough to make him gasp and you pull back just slightly, your hand sliding up to grip his jaw.
"ground rules," you murmur against his mouth. "you don't touch me unless i say so. you don't cum unless i let you. and you definitely don't talk back. got it?"
his eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across his features before that cocky mask slides back into place. "sure, whatever you say."
"good boy," you purr, and you feel him shudder beneath you.
♡ -
thirty minutes later, caleb is absolutely falling apart.
his cock is an angry, desperate red in your hand, the tip leaking steadily as you pump him with slow, deliberate strokes. your fresh manicure, pretty pink nails that you'd gotten done just yesterday it looks absolutely sinful wrapped around his length, and you can't help but admire the view as you work him over.
"please," he gasps, his voice cracking. "please, i can't- fuck, i need..”
"shh," you coo, tightening your grip at the base of his cock, holding him firmly as you lean down and drag your tongue along the underside of his shaft. slowly. agonisinglyy slowly. from base to tip, savoring the way he jerks and writhes beneath you.
"oh god," he moans, his hands fisting in the sheets. you'd told him not to touch you, and to his praise, he's obeyed. but it's clearly killing him. his knuckles are white, his whole body trembling with the effort of holding back.
you've been at this for half an hour now, and you haven't let him cum once. every time he gets closeand you can tell, from the way his breathing hitches, the way his thighs tense, the way his cock pulses in your hand. you stop and squeeze the base firmly, denying him that release, and then you start all over again.
his cock is so sensitive now, so irritated from your relentless teasing, that even the lightest touch makes him gasp. the head is flushed dark, almost purple, and there's a steady stream of precum leaking from the tip that you lap up with kitten licks, humming appreciatively at the taste.
"you're so mean," he whimpers, and there are actual tears gathering in his eyes now. "please, please let me cum. i'll do anything. anything."
you pull back, releasing his cock entirely, and he lets out a desperate, broken sound that goes straight between your legs. his hips buck up uselessly, seeking friction that isn't there, and you can't help but smile.
"anything?" you ask, tilting your head. "that's a big promise, caleb."
"i mean it," he sobs. "please. i need it so bad. it hurts."
you lean down again, your breath ghosting over his sensitive flesh, and he jerks violently, a strangled moan tearing from his throat. you haven't even touched him yet, and he's already losing it.
"remember what you said earlier?" you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to the tip of his cock. he shudders, his whole body going tense. "about how i was too pussy to control you?"
another kiss, this one to the side of his shaft. his legs are shaking now, trembling uncontrollably.
"i- i didn't- fuck, please-“
you pull back, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes, your lips forming a perfect pout. "am i still too pussy to control you, caleb?"
the tears spill over then, tracking down his flushed cheeks as he shakes his head frantically. "no. no, you're not. you're.. god, you're so good at this. so good. please."
his voice breaks on the last word, and you feel a surge of satisfaction so intense it's almost dizzying. this is caleb cocky, arrogant, always-in-control caleb. reduced to a sobbing, begging mess beneath you. all because of you.
you decide to have mercy on him. just a little.
"do you want it?" you ask softly, your hand hovering just above his cock. "do you want to cum, pipsqueak?”
"yes!" the word bursts out of him like a prayer. "yes, yes, yes, please. please let me cum. i need it. i need you. please."
he's sobbing openly now, his chest heaving with desperate breaths, and every time you so much as move your hand closer, his body jerks involuntarily. he's so wound up, so desperate, that you know it won't take much.
"okay," you whisper, and before he can process the word, you're on him.
your mouth engulfs his cock, taking him deep, and the sound he makes is so sweet it’s almost inhuman. your tongue works along his length as you bob your head, sucking hard, and his hips buck up involuntarily, driving himself deeper into your throat. you let him, relaxing your jaw, taking everything he has to give.
"oh fuck, oh fuck, oh-" his words dissolve into incoherent moans as you increase your pace, your hand pumping what your mouth can't reach. his legs jerk up, his thighs clamping around your head, and you know he's right there, right on the edge-
you pull back.
not completely, just enough that your lips are barely brushing the tip of his cock, and that's all it takes. caleb lets out a broken, desperate groan as he loses control completely, his cock pulsing as he cums hard, thick ropes of white painting his chest and stomach. it goes on and on, his whole body convulsing with the force of his orgasm, and you watch with satisfaction as he falls apart.
when he finally stops, he collapses back against the bed, his chest heaving, his eyes glazed and unfocused. there are still tear tracks on his cheeks, and his cock gives one last weak twitch before going soft.
you crawl up his body, careful not to smear the mess on his chest, and lean down to whisper in his ear.
"what a loser."
he lets out a weak, breathless laugh, and you grin, pressing a kiss to his temple.
the concept of visiting your childhood friend turned boyfriend!caleb at his place in skyhaven, and being sooo comfortable around him that you don’t even realize much less understand the extent of the effect you have on him. it’s still the early weeks/months of your relationship, and caleb, who’s so terrified of scaring you off by coming on too strong, holds himself back. but it also frustrates him to no end that you’re absolutely clueless to just how captivating you are
tags. canon-adjacent, established relationship, semi early relationship fluff + smut, sexual tension, kinda pervert caleb, oblivious reader, oral sex (f!receiving), p in v, creampie, dirty talk, pet names
caleb's stares have always been intense. it's part of what makes him him. you two have always had this mix of playful childhood teasing and something deeper, plus the possessive protectiveness from his return means he can't help but drink you in whenever you're together, especially now that you guys are official. but you're so used to him being around, his presence a guaranteed constant in your life, you just... don't notice.
the bathroom is still thick with steam when you step out of the shower, the hot water having chased away the last remnants of sleep. you wrap the towel around yourself without much thought. it was the only clean one left, small and soft, but barely long enough to cover you properly. you don’t pay it any attention, though, as you bend over the sink, toothbrush in hand, humming some half remembered tune as you brush your teeth.
you were focused on the mirror, trying to see past the fog, and in the middle of drawing a cute little puppy in the condensation that suspiciously looked a lot like your boyfriend when a soft knock sounds at the already half-open door.
“morning.” caleb mumbles, voice thick with sleep as he pushes it fully open. he’s mid-yawn with one arm stretched overhead, running a hand through his dark hair which is sticking up wildly in every direction. he’s wearing nothing but sweatpants that ride low on his hips and a loose navy blue t-shirt.
the yawn dies in his throat the instant his eyes land on you.
you’re bent forward, leaning over the counter, the towel creeping up just enough to expose the soft undersides of your ass and a teasing glimpse of damp skin between your thighs. water beads cling to your skin, tracing the valley of your breasts as they disappear down the towel and trailing slow paths down your thighs all the way to your calves after reappearing.
caleb freezes in the doorway, hand still tangled in his hair, eyes widening a bit as they take in the sight in front of him.
you catch his reflection mid-draw in the clear patch of mirror and glance back, toothbrush pausing, white foam at the corner of your mouth, eyelashes still wet and face flush a gorgeous pink from no doubt the hot shower you’ve taken this early in the morning. only you could look ridiculously cute while doing something as mundane as brushing your teeth, caleb thinks to himself.
“hey sleepyhead.” you manage around the toothpaste, voice muffled. “sorry. gimme a minute, ’m almost finished.”
“yeah…” he tries to answer casually but the word comes out scraped, his throat still rough from sleep and maybe something more now. he clears his throat as his eyes drop back down to your ass. “ummm… take your time, pips.”
you turn back to the sink, oblivious, spitting and rinsing as you reach for your cleanser. caleb doesn’t move, just leans against the doorframe instead, one hand drifting under the hem of his shirt to peel the fabric away from his chest. he suddenly feels way too warm, skin prickling with sweat that has nothing to do with the steam. his shirt lifts and the waistband of his sweatpants reveal the sharp cut of his v-line and the faint trail of hair disappearing beneath.
his gaze stays fixed on you, however, a hint of helplessness in his eyes under the still lingering fragments of sleep.
every little motion you make subsequently seems specifically designed to torture him. the way you rise onto your toes to reach the top shelf, towel shifting higher. the casual bend to pick up a dropped cotton pad, giving him an even clearer view of soft curves and moist skin. the cute humming in your throat as you pat toner onto your cheeks. you were so comfortable here, in his space, around him. muscle memory from years of knowing each other.
it’s way too early in the morning for him to be feeling like this. and, a nagging thought reminds him at the back of his head, too early in the relationship as well.
you had only just arrived to skyhaven last night, a trip the two of you had been planning for the past two weeks, as soon as you had found out that you finally had some time off from work.
it’s only been a couple months since you two had started dating so despite sharing a living space he promised himself he’d go slow and keep his hands to himself. he wanted to let you set the pace, not scare you off with the intensity that’s been building inside him for far longer than you probably realized.
and although you guys had familiarized yourself with each other’s bodies in the time you’ve been together, you’ve also been pushing yourself way too hard at work for him to advance on you constantly and exhaust you even further.
that’s why last night was just a round of takeout and a cute movie, cuddling on the couch, talking about absolutely everything and making jokes, and falling asleep before the credits rolled.
but standing there, watching you move so effortlessly in next to nothing, every one of caleb’s good intentions felt like it was fraying at the edges.
after another minute or two, you cap your moisturizer, flash him a bright, earnest smile over your shoulder, and step past him towards the door.
“bathroom’s all yours now.” you say lightly, breezing by with the faint scent of the bodywash he bought (your favorite) clinging to your skin.
caleb stays rooted in place, staring at the empty space you left behind, pulse thudding hard in his ears. he drags a hand down his face and exhales unevenly.
catching his flushed reflection in the clearing mirror, he silently grabs his own toothbrush and starts scrubbing hard enough to scrape off enamel.
an hour later you’re both sprawled across the wide couch in caleb’s living room, morning light pouring in through the massive windows. his laptop balances on his thighs, open to a half-finished fleet log he’s supposed to be reviewing. your own hunter reports are scattered across the low coffee table in front of you. everything from printouts, sticky notes, and different colored pens were littered across, a tablet propped against a mug. there’s also a kettle that has been steeping a pot of tea for the last ten minutes.
you’re dressed for pure comfort in soft sweatpants that sit low on your hips and a thin white tank top that clings just enough to hint at the simple bra underneath. the neckline dips low, and every time you shift, the fabric pulls a little tighter, offering the occasional peek of cleavage.
you just look oh so cute, caleb thinks, as you bite your lower lip in concentration, brow furrowed, legs tucked up and crossed underneath you on the couch.
and caleb promises he’s not a pervert. but it’s just so hard to control oneself when your girlfriend is this effortlessly gorgeous and doesn’t even know it.
every few minutes you let out a small, frustrated puff of air, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you scribble notes in the margins of a page, and it takes everything in caleb not to press a kiss to the skin on the neck you’ve just exposed.
he really is trying to focus though, his fingers hovering over the keyboard, typing a word here and there, but his eyes keep betraying him as he finds them constantly drifting back and forth from the screen to you. to the way your tank top rides up when you lean forward and the soft curve of your waist where the sweatpants have slipped down just a fraction. to the absent little bounce of your leg when you unfold them and the sliver of skin exposed when you stretch your arms overhead. he catches himself staring at your lips every single time you chew down on them, biting them raw, and forces his gaze back to his report, only for it to wander again thirty seconds later.
you’re completely engrossed in your work and utterly oblivious to what you do to him.
eventually you lean toward the coffee table, reaching for the teapot without looking up from your notes. the movement pulls your neckline lower, thin straps sliding slightly on one shoulder as the smallest amount of extra skin is exposed, an unintentional display. but it’s enough to make caleb’s throat go dry.
“want some tea?” you ask casually, still focused on the page in your lap.
caleb swallows, willing away the dryness and when he speaks he notices his voice comes out a touch lower than usual.
“i got it.”
you glance up then, flashing him that bright, easy smile that reaches all the way to your eyes and always undoes him.
he sets his laptop aside and leans forward to pour out two cups of tea as you settle back against the cushions without a second thought, foot tucking and legs curling up again and diving right back into your work.
caleb hands you your mug, warm fingers brushing yours for the briefest second. you murmur a soft “thanks ‘leb” and wrap both hands around it, blowing gently across the surface before taking a sip, eyes still engrossed in your work.
he sits back and returns to his screen, but really, he’s just watching the steam curl up past your lips, the way your throat moves when you swallow, the little hum of appreciation you make because the tea is exactly how you like it. he can’t help but feel a little smug about that last part.
“what a waste.” he grumbles to himself half an hour later, once you had finally gotten up and wandered into another room, because he noticed his own untouched cup of tea left on the table, now too cold to drink or enjoy properly.
that afternoon, you roll out a yoga mat in the open space in front of the couch. caleb’s still parked in the same spot, laptop still open, finally making some progress on his work while you queue up a quick follow-along video on your tablet.
you’re in your favorite flared yoga pants and a thin, cropped define jacket zipped just low enough to show your collarbones with your hair tied up in what was a probably hastily thrown up ponytail. you hit play and sink into the first warm-up stretch, completely in your own world.
caleb glances up the second the soothing instructor's voice starts up. it was just supposed to be a quick look, out of genuine curiosity, but his eyes stay glued to your figure as you flow through the poses.
child’s pose came first, forehead to the mat, arms stretched forward, hips sinking back. then cat-cow, back arching and dipping slow and smooth. when you shift into downward dog with your legs straight, back beautifully arched, and ass tilted up toward the ceiling, he has to grip the edge of his laptop to keep from squeaking out loud. your clothes stretch tight across your body, outlining every curve, slope, and dip perfectly, ponytail swinging gently with each breath.
you start speaking, completely oblivious, like he’s not internally short-circuiting.
“so i was thinking,” you say mid pose, voice steady even as you hold a deep forward fold, hands flat on the mat, “we should try that new ramen place in linkon next time you come over. the one with the spicy miso?”
“mhm…” caleb nods, swallowing hard. “we’ll go wherever you want, pipsqueak.”
his voice miraculously comes out even and normal. years of pilot training keeping him composed apparently.
you straighten up, step one foot forward into a low lunge, hips sinking low, arms reaching overhead. the jacket rides up, a sliver more skin flashing at your waist.
“they’re open until pretty late too, so even if my shifts run long—”
“late hours are perfect baby.” he answers quickly, not really meaning to cut you off but his brain is moving 100mph, eyes tracking the stretch of your body before snapping back to his screen when you turn around to grab your water bottle.
he’s not sure why he’s acting like he doesn’t want to be caught, but you’re still blissfully unaware, turning back to your tablet as the instructor gives the next pose.
you drop back into plank, then lower into cobra with your chest lifting and back arching again, throat exposed.
caleb’s fingers hover uselessly over the keyboard. he’s read the same line on his report four times now.
“also,” you continue, rolling up to a seated position, legs in butterfly and wide open, then stretching your arms out forward until your chest nearly touches the mat. “i was thinking we invite tara and simone so i can finally introduce you to them. they’ve been asking about you, y’know. been nagging me for ages.”
“i’m not complainin’.” he replies, voice surprisingly light and playful. “please show me off to your friends.”
you look back at him over your shoulder, meeting his gaze that’s already set on you, cheeks pink from the workout, your eyes bright as you stick your tongue out at him.
“as if!”
then you fold forward again with your ass lifted just slightly, back rounded, completely relaxed and the only thought that shoots through caleb’s mind is how badly he wants to take you on that mat right now, fleet report be damned.
instead he just lets out a soft laugh in response that sounds way more relaxed than how tense he actually feels.
by the time you roll up your mat twenty minutes later, barely a single line of the report is completed on his end. you stretch your arms overhead with a satisfied little sigh, and he accepts his fate. absolutely no work is being done like this.
you walk over, drop onto the couch beside him and nudge his shoulder with yours.
“hey, workaholic. time for a break.”
he closes the laptop, finally giving up the pretense, and bumps you back gently. “whatcha got in mind?”
you simply reach out to brush the fringe of hair in front of his eyes and press a sweet kiss to his lips. his arms immediately snake around you, pulling you flush to him.
it doesn’t go any deeper though when you pull away after a moment. caleb almost whines like a dog at the loss of contact, then immediately mentally slaps himself for it.
you pat his shoulder and get up. “back to work, colonel.”
“hey!” he makes to get up after you but you’re already gone.
he slumps back down in defeat, throwing a glare at his laptop.
later that evening, you’re in the small laundry nook across from the kitchen, the dryer humming its final spin as you pull open the door and start unloading warm clothes into the basket at your feet.
you’ve long since taken another shower after your yoga session, now donning tiny sleep shorts and one of caleb's faded old aerospace academy shirts. the fabric of his shirt rides up with every bend of your hips, grabbing at clothes from the machine, exposing the gentle curve of your thighs and the lower swell of your ass.
you’re completely focused on the task with your tongue stuck between your lips as you pair socks and toss them into the basket, fully zoned in.
caleb, who has finally finally finished his work, makes his way from the living room towards the kitchen, passing you on his way to grab water.
he’s mid-step when he catches the sight of you bent forward, back arched just a bit for balance, and shorts riding high, as you dig for a stray sock at the back of the dryer.
he stops dead. just… freezes in place, water completely forgotten, though his throat does go dry again.
you give him no acknowledgement as you take out the sock, so he assumes you have no idea he’s standing there behind you. not to mention no clue in the world how the overhead light hits the skin of your thighs and the curve of your ass.
caleb swallows hard, wetting his throat, then moves before his brain fully catches up. he steps up behind you quietly, hands settling on your waist. firm, warm, and a little possessive despite his best intentions.
you don’t even flinch at his touch, just continue to reach out, desperately looking for the sock’s pair. caleb doesn’t know whether to laugh or to be offended.
“move over, pips.” he murmurs, trying to get your attention. “i got you.”
you straighten up immediately, turning in the circle of his hands to face him. your neutral face melts into that easy, grateful smile when you realize it’s just him being his helpful self.
“thanks, babe!” you say brightly, popping onto your toes to press a quick, sweet kiss to his cheek and handing him the lone sock in your hand. “you’re the best.”
then you’re slipping past him, basket abandoned at his feet now, humming some tune as you wander back toward the living room like nothing happened.
caleb stands there for a second, hands still hovering where your waist had been, cheek tingling from your innocent kiss. he glances down at the dinosaur patterned sock in his hand, then at the empty doorway you disappeared through, and lets out a quiet sigh.
no pair turns up anywhere in the laundry for that goddamn sock.
later, after neatly folding the rest of it and flopping on to his back on his bed, he dangles the sock above his face. the little dinosaurs smile back at him all goofy and toothily.
“you lonely too buddy?” he asks it, before turning over and squishing his cheek against the pillow.
the dinosaurs don’t answer, continuing to grin at him mockingly.
he groans, tosses the sock somewhere behind him, and pulls the pillow over his head.
a couple of hours later, deep into the night, caleb jolts awake. the room is quiet save for the soft hum of probably the furnace running and the gentle rhythm of your breathing beside him.
moonlight spills through the wide window, painting everything in it’s wake. he looks over and there you are, curled on your side, almost on your stomach like a sleepy little kitten.
the blanket has twisted around your waist and your front, practically useless at it’s only job, which is to cover. your tiny sleep shorts are riding high, one cheek fully exposed, the curve of your ass catching the light perfectly. one leg is tucked up toward your chest, the other fallen slightly open, making everything jut out just a little more. your shirt is bunched up to your midriff, showing the soft dip of your spine and a sliver of stomach.
you’re drooling a tiny bit onto the pillow, one arm shoved underneath it, hair a messy halo. you’ve never looked more beautiful.
caleb stares for a long second, chest tightening. he lets out a quiet, helpless sigh and slides closer, fully rolling over to spoon you from behind. with his chest to your back, arm draping over your waist, and hand splaying possessively across your bare stomach.
“you’ve got no idea what you do to me, do you?” he mutters against the shell of your ear, voice hoarse with sleep.
you stir at the warmth and his words, blinking slowly awake. you twist your neck just enough to peer at him over your shoulder, eyes still heavy-lidded.
“mm… caleb?” you ask, letting out a sleepy yawn, voice raspy and slurred. “what time’ssit?”
“late.” he whispers back, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “go back to sleep.”
“mmmf—” you try to push up on an elbow, but his arm tightens gently, keeping you pinned. you slump back down with a dramatic little huff. “don’t wanna.”
he chuckles, lips brushing your skin again. “you were droolin’ on my pillow two seconds ago.”
“was not.” you mumble, and your pout can be heard in your voice. you wiggle back against him, getting comfier. “you’ve been weird all day, y’know.”
he stills for half a beat. “…weird how?”
“like… just jumping a lot. to help me… like a cute little puppy!” you yawn again and let out a laugh. “seriously though. you’ve been so jittery i thought you were coming down with something.”
caleb groans into your hair, half-laugh, half-mortification.
“’m not sick. i’m just… tryin’ real hard to be real good for you.”
you twist a little more so you can actually see his face. moonlight catches the flush on his cheeks.
“good at what? you’re already good for me.”
he meets your eyes, serious for once.
“at not draggin’ you to the nearest surface every five minutes.” he says, then his voice drops. “you’ve been killing me all day, pipsqueak.”
you blink, processing his word, then the corner of your mouth curves into a slow, mischievous smile. you poke his arm with one finger. “and who exactly is making you be good, colonel loser?”
he growls playfully, catching your hand and pinning it against your stomach. “you are. with your oblivious ‘lil self.”
you crane your neck further until your lips brush his.
“’m not that oblivious. plus i never asked you to be so good.”
the kiss starts lazy and sleepy, but it deepens fast. you open your mouth for him, tongue sliding against his, and he makes a low sound in his throat.
his hand slips under the hem of your shirt (his shirt), palm spreading over the soft skin of your stomach before sliding higher to cup one breast, thumb brushing over your nipple until it hardens under his touch. you arch into his hand, a moan falling from your lips as you break apart from the kiss.
he trails more kisses down your neck, nipping lightly at your collarbone.
“been wantin’ to do this since you walked outta that shower.” he murmurs against your skin. “since you walked into my place, actually.”
“then what are you waiting for?” you whisper back, pushing your hips back against him.
he doesn’t need any more invitation.
his fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts and tug them down slowly, easing them off your legs. you kick them away impatiently, making him laugh, and you suddenly find yourself thinking how sexy he sounds all sleepy and playful.
he kisses down your spine, over the curve of your ass, then as you fully turn on to your back for him, he settles between your thighs.
the first slow lick to your pussy has you reeling, gasping his name, fingers threading into his hair.
“oh, caleb—”
he hums against you, tongue circling and stroking and sucking your clit just the way he knows you like, fingers sliding inside to pump at your tight hole. you tug hard at his hair, hips rocking, breath coming in soft little whimpers.
“r-right there, nnngh—don't stop—please—”
and stop he doesn’t. not until you’re trembling, thighs clamping around his head, coming with a loud cry that echoes in his bedroom.
he crawls back up your body, kissing your sternum, pushing the shirt higher until it’s bunched under your arms.
you’re still catching your breath when he settles between your legs again. he pulls his sweatpants down just enough to free his aching dick and slaps it one, two, three times against your clit, smearing the precum already dribbling out of the tip and sending jolts up your spine.
he wastes no more time then, sliding into you slow and deep, mouth falling open as he sheathes himself inside you completely. you both groan when he’s fully bottomed out.
“god you always—hahh—take me so perfectly.” he breathes, starting a steady rhythm, thumb finding your swollen clit. he fucks into you with fast, even strokes while flicking at it, making you mewl.
you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, nails digging into his back as he continues to thrust.
“harder.” you whimper after a minute, voice needy. “please caleb, please—uhnn— i need it—”
he hooks your legs over his shoulders without hesitation, folding you nearly in half, placing his palms on either side of your head, and gives you exactly what you asked for, plunging as deep as he can go, his hips slamming into you with vigor.
the headboard taps loudly against the wall, your moans mixing with his low grunts and groans.
“come for me again baby.” he pants against your lips, before kissing you open mouthed, hot and desperate.
and that’s all it takes for you to squeeze and release around him, his name on your tongue, pulling him over the edge right after. his dick jerks and spurts inside of you, as he lets out a groan, filling you up and leaving you completely satiated.
afterwards, he collapses half on top of you, completely spent and face burying in your neck, both of you breathless and sweaty. you stroke his hair lazily, grinning into the darkness.
“hey,” you say, after a moment, voice still husky. “did you seriously think i did all that yoga in front of you then left you hanging and expected you to do nothing about it?”
he lifts his head, mock-offended, before going back down to bite at your collarbone.
“you ‘lil menace.”
notes. might've made too many caleb puppy comparisons but who gaffff i believe in a caleb who ogles while u are oblivious to it. not proofread btw js a lil smth that’s been on my mind... this started as a headcanon list n then idrk what happened LMFAOO but can u tell i love writing from calebs pov?
I think caleb eavesdrop through the door while you're on the phone with your best friend. Listen, he doesn't mean it, but his ears perk once the conversation starts getting interesting.
"I knooow! And it just feels- well, boring after a while. I don't know how to finger myself. Yeah, it's overrated, uhuh."
He presses his ear closer to the door, your muffled voice becoming clear.
"No, I can't buy a vibrator!- You forgot I live with my grandma?! She goes through every package that arrives at our porch. It's a pain. I'll give her a heart attack, and she'll give me an earful. I'd rather not." — "Yeah, and sometimes caleb's packages get mixed up with mine. I'd never hear the end of it if he found a stupidly bright pink vibrator in the middle of his plane legos."
Caleb's imaginary tail wags behind him. It's pathetic. Anything related to you makes his jaw tighten and his dick leak with watery beads of precum.
And listen, he really doesn't mean to intrude, but he barges in anyway.
And there you are, lying on your tummy and twirling your hair while talking to your friend. Ass up wrapped in the cutest yellow panties. Shit.
"Caleb- girl, I'll call you back in a minute- Caleb what the fuck?! Knock first?? Get out-" — "Don't buy a vibrator."
☆!
“wait- caleb!” – “shush.”
a quick slap to your puffy clit stops you from running away from his lap. between you and caleb, he has always been the strongest — while roughhousing, he wins easily, during his workout sessions in the morning, he asks if you can help him and sit on his back while he does push ups. so manhandling you and holding you down on his lap is no biggie for gege.
parting your legs with his, his large hand holds you down by pressing on your tummy, making your back hit his hard chest.
“stop squirming, pipsqueak. caleb will teach ya, hm? be nice for gege.”
two fingers in and he already got you drooling and panting like a puppy. his fingers — much different from yours — are big, thick. the rough pads press up inside you, rubbing the warm, spongy flesh with enough pressure to make your head spin and the tiny huffs that left your lips escalate to whiny moans.
“this,” he flexes his hand, fingers pressing with just a little more insistence, “that’s your g-spot, pips. feels good, uhuh? your little fingers can’t reach it, especially with those beautiful nails of yours, but it’s okay, gege is here to help.”
his tone is serious but you know he’s teasing – your walls tighten around him anyway, making his knuckles sticky with your slick.
you barely have time to compose yourself before caleb lets go of your stomach, approaching his hand to his face and spitting on his middle and ring finger and shoving it down your legs.
“this,” he starts again, genuinely interested in his own lesson, “is your clit, pips. but you know that already, right?” a hmm vibrates on his chest behind you, maybe in satisfaction, and the two saliva coated pads circle your clit in gentle but tight movements.
the whines leaving your throat please him, a grin quickly blooming on his face as the sounds echo and ring on his head. it’s not his intention to be too mean or too much of a tease, you’re his dear, cutest, sweetest, oh so lovely meimei, of course! no, he doesn’t plan to stop but he does press a kind kiss to your temple to soothe you.
“don’t buy a vibrator, pips. who knows if silicone is actually body safe? you need something, you come to me, are we understood?”
⊹ ࣪reblogs are very much appreciated. thank you for reading!(*´▽`*)
