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.
SYNOPSIS. Quick! Think! Caleb, your roomate in collegue just confessed to you that he's a Werewolf! What to do? And he's in… heat?!
FEAT. Werewolf!caleb x roommate!reader
TAGS. 4.9k words. DARK/ NSFW CONTENT! MDNI! friends with benefits to lovers. unprotected intercourse. dubcon. dirty talk. knotting. breeding. marathon s€x. marking. biting. heat. sliiight alpha/omega dynamics. monster fuckin(??? idk if it counts lmao). littleeee plot. nicknames. cum eating. Lwk bimbo!reader. cunnilingus(?). oral (fem). somnophilia. reader is exhausted and falls asleep and caleb keeps going (uhhh oops...?).
A/N;WHOOO WE ALMOST DONE WITH KINKTOBER!!! THIS is the most pussydrunk and desperate I ever wrote caleb. I was so damn horkney while writing dis, so maybe that explains it LMAOOO. ALSO THE LAST BIT IS LWK CRINGE I’M SORRYYYY Anyways, enjoyyyy <33 if ya want 2 send a little tip, click here! <3
K!NKTOB€R 2025!
He promised.
The mirror catches the fluff of your sheep ears as you adjust them one more time, huffing out a breath at another glance to the clock. The glass throws back a ridiculous, soft-furred caricature of you with wide eyes, trembling fingers, the tiny puffball tail that bobs with every nervous shift of your hips.
The costume feels ridiculous. Cute, sure, but ridiculous all the same. Soft white fleece clamps around your hips, the skirt riding up in a way that makes you smooth it down with anxious motions you can't help.
You check the clock again. Twice. Your phone buzzes in your lap and you ignore it, fingers worrying at the hem until the fabric thins under your thumb.
Caleb had helped you choose it. You remember the crooked way he laughed when you debated between a sheep and a mummy, the way he actually considered bandages before his grin widened. "Guess I'll be the big bad wolf, hunting you down, huh, Pipsqueak?"
Pipsqueak, his nickname for you since freshman year. You roll your eyes now at the memory and the way the nickname still makes something inside you fold in on itself. You loved that grin, loved the way his eyes caught on your curves, or how he'd place playful squeezes to your ass any chance he got just to see you tense.
Your phone buzzes again with a texts from Gideon.
'Yo, where's your boy? He's not answering the phone >:( Party's bout 2 start. Hurryyyy.'
You huff out a short laugh before your lips flatten into a thin line. Gideon, Caleb's best friend since childhood, the one who always seemed to know just how close you two really were. Always hands all over each other, like the one time he even barged into your room and caught you humbing each other like desperate rabbits.
You wish you could wipe this moment from Gideon's memory to this day, because he won't stop teasing you about it.
But that's it, he's just teasing.
That's what you tell yourself every time he nudges you about how in love Caleb supposedly is with you.
Just teasing and Gideon being an ass.
Because you and Caleb are just roommates.
Always have been.
You type a reply you don't send, standing up as you pace around your room before entering the livingroom, smoothening the tail as if it will steady you, mumbling to yourself as your voice breaks through the empty room.
"Caleb, just where the hell are you?"
Well, it was common for him to just disappear without a word, especially at night. You'd expect him to chill at some bar, chasing the fleeting thrill of a one-night stand, or lounging at Gideon's like it's his own place. That's just how your roommate was, and you've learned to accept it, live with it.
But not tonight. Tonight he promised to accompany you to this Halloween party. Now you regret putting your trust in him with every lonely minute passing.
Tonight feels different. A kind of different you can't name. Like the distant, haunting wolf howls that sliced through your walls, even though wolves shouldn't exist anywhere near campus. Or the usual quiet of your apartment pressing down on your worrying chest.
What if something happened to him? What if, god forbid, he ran into the wolf you heared hauling outside earlier?
Time drags.
You perch on the edge of the couch now, fingers twisting nervously at your fluffy skirt, stomach knotted tight, mind racing with every fearful possibility.
Outside, the full moon hangs low, silver light piercing through the windows, catching dust motes in a ghostly shimmer. Shadows of trees stretch and twitch in the corners like they're alive, crawling along the walls like demons, a cold shiver running down your spine.
Just where is he—
Before you can even register it, the apartment door rattles violently. The hinges groan under some invisible force, and then—
SLAM!
The door bursts open, and a frantic Caleb stumbles in, the slam reverberating through the small space.
"P-pips'."
He's half-dressed, his chest bare, streaked with dirt and sweat. His pants shredded, hanging off one leg, his shoes gone. Scratches mark his arms, face bruised as though he'd been in a fight.
Worry washes over your face as you stumble to your feet, feet moving before your mind could react as you're just about to reach out to him, your lips already parting.
But what stops you cold in your tracks are his eyes.
They glow an unnaturally bright lilac, and when his lips part to catch his breath, you catch the flash of sharp teeth, too sharp. It's as if he's an entirely different person, something far from human, even.
Your blood turns to ice, eyes wide, voice stuck somewhere in your throat. Your hands tremble as you edge along the wall, desperate to put distance between you, but close enough to call out.
"C-Caleb?"
He stumbles inside to shut the door behind him, bracing a hand against the doorframe, chest heaving like he's been running a mile, "Fuck, Pips… you gotta— gotta get outta here. Ya' can't see me l-like— like this."
"W-what's wrong with your eyes, Cay'? Are you on drugs or something?"
A humorless laugh tumbles out of him, but when his gaze drags up, catching the sight of you, dressed up in your little lamp costume, it twists into something feral. His pupils are blown wide, glowing with a bright purple, his lips pulling back from his teeth in a deep snarl.
Heart hammering with fear you flich at the sight of teeth again, "Caleb—"
Snapping his eyes shut with a violent shake of his head, knuckles white where they grip the frame like it's the only thing keeping him sane, "N-no time to explain. I need to—" He breaks off, stumbling deeper into the room, frantically pacing, as if searching for something. His bare feet scraping across the floor, breathing ragged.
Then he stops in his rush, his head cocking toward you, nostrils flaring as he steps closer, too close, lowering his face toward your hair. He inhales with a deep and shaky whiff, damn near growling like an animal.
"Need what, Caleb? W-what the hell—"
"Need you. Need you badddd."
You jerk your head back, stumbling toward your bedroom, shaky hand fumbling with the doorknob, pulse racing so loud it drowns everything else out, "I'm not gonna help you if you're being— being weird like this. I'll just— just go, let you cool off in here, alright?"
"No!" His desperate whine rattles the walls, voice breaking as it pitches into a plea. "Nonono, please, baby. P-pleaseee let me explain."
"B-baby? Caleb, I know we make out and stuff, but, seriously, dude—"
Cutting you off with another growl, his eyes wide and begging, his hands clutching your arms so tight it makes you gasp. "Should'a told ya' sooner, I know. I'm sorry, Pips, I should'a known, but I— I forgot that—fuckkk, I forgot it's full moon tonight and—"
Yeah, he really did forget. Usually, he'd vanish into the woods on full moons, make some excuse about going to Gideon's or to some frat party, but tonight? He forgot.
Forgot the moon, forgot that his fucking heat would hit like a storm on the same night and forgot that he promised to go to the party with you on a fucking full moon.
After his transformation was done, he came here anyway, thinking he could manage it, thinking he could slip his pent-up self through the apartment without you noticing, getting into his costume and control himself long enough to keep his promise to his sweet roommate, but when he smelled you through the door— just a faint whiff of you, dressed in that costume you picked out together— he knew he was done for.
And ohhh, will he have some explaining to do in the morning. Gideon would not be happy to hear that the reason neither of you made it to the party he's been looking forward to attending with his friends was that his best friend had to get his dick wet.
What a joke of a werewolf he is.
His words choke off into a grunt, his body seizing as a shiver runs through him, his muscles twitching beneath his shirt, the seams pulling tight like they might burst. He doubles over, teeth clenched, and when you glance down, your gasp causes his eyes to follow yours.
A massive, throbbing bulge strains against his torn pants, the outline far too big for it to be normal. You can't help but clench your thighs involuntarily as heat grabs you before you can even process.
"D-did you— take some aphrodisiac or something? You're acting like—like some animal in heat."
"'Cause I ammm, Pips."
Your breath stutters once his frantic eyes snapped up to yours, his jaw screwed tight, "W-what?!"
"I tried, tried realll hard— wasn't gonna— fuck!— It's so strong." Hands clawing at his scalp now, tugging his own hair as a guttural sound tears out of him, "Can s-smell you, Pips. So damn sweet. Drippin' and waistin' it into those fuckin' panties," gaze dragging down your sheep costume, lingering right at the curve of your heaving chest.
Your knees weaken, because he's right. You actually don't want him to be, but the damp spot right at the center of your cotton panties is proof, and you seriously hate the way your pulse thrums harder at his words.
"Seriously, you're acting fucking weird, Cay'—"
"Don't—" His head whips up, restraint painted in his iris, "Don't say my name like that. Not when I'm—" He stops himself, taking a deep breath with his body trembling, shoulders jerking like he's fighting something under his skin.
"I can't—shit, Can't hold back."
Then, quickly, his body crashes into yours, caging you against the bedroom door, the impact rattling your bones, knocking a breathless squeak from your throat. His mouth finds your neck in a frenzy, hot breath washing over your skin, his sharp teeth scraping along the delicate curve, causing you to whine.
"Pipssss," he hums against your throat more like a beast, tongue dragging against your pulse, his nose burying into your skin, "Ya' smell sooo good, can't stop. Need you so baddddd."
"C-Caleb, wait—"
"Godddd, baby. I love that smart little mouth of yer's but right now," he hitches you up effortlessly, your legs clamping around his hips, his cock grinding hard against your stomach, thick length pressing right against your puffy clit, "Right now I reaaally need ya' to shut up, baby."
Your head tips back with a strangled moan as his teeth nip at your collarbone greedily, leaving a sting that throbs, "I-I'll break if I don't—h-hahhh, so sweet, so damn sweet— if I don't bury my cock in you right nowwww."
Body betraying you, your pussy's growing wetter and wetter with each of his hungry whiffs and licks, lightly bucking your drooling cunny riiiight onto his fat girth, wayyy fatter that u recall it to be, and he growls as he feels your hole pulse through the fabric.
"Yeahhhhh, fuck yeah."
Then it hits you, shaking out of your pleasure daze, catching the flash of his sharp teeth, the wild glow in his gaze, the rips splitting his clothes apart and that howl you heard earlier coming back to memory.
He's a—
"Y-you're joking. You're not seriously a w—"
"A werewolf, yeah," he snaps, more inhuman than anytime before, voice cracking. "Yeah, yeah, whatever— gonna explain later. But right now I gotta—" He kicks your door open, shoving you down onto the mattress, monstrous shadow looming over you. His eyes rake over your body like he can't decide where to start, chest heaving, cock visibly screaming to tear free, "—Gotta stuff ya."
He doesn't give you time to think when with one sharp tug, he claws the fleece and your costume tearing it with a pitiful rip. The sheep falls away and your bra and panties follow. Cold air snug to your bare skin, then his tongue tastes the salty seam of your collarbone, feisty teeth grazing, nibbling at your throat,
One hand palms hard at your nipples, pinching and flicking the nub until your back arches. The other clamps to your ass, gripping and hauling you against him, then spreading your thighs until they lock around his waist like handcuffs.
What the hell has gotten into him?
You've known him since forever, shared laughs, late-night snacks, even a few messy makeouts, dry-humping here and there, and maybe even some good old 69 when you both were alone with ur thoughts and a blunt— but he's never crossed the line. Never dared to let anything but his tongue and fingers dip into your pussy, never dared to fuck you no matter how crazy your pleas and whimpers got his head spinning.
You're roommates that just care for each other's needs afterall. Strictly that and nothing else. Anything else would just make things weird between you two or worse— make you both grow apart.
Which means no more teasing, sloppy makeouts, or sloppy head in the library after lectures. And that would be worse for him that any of the pain he suffers from under his secret.
But right now he just can't seem to spare a single fuck to care.
He layed his cards on the table, confessed he's a werewolf, confessed that he's been craving to fuck you for a longggg time, evident with his cock straining against his pants.
Well, who are you to complain?
You've wanted this too, since damn near forever, pouting each time he'd pull away after a heavenly make out session, whining when his shaky hand slapped yours away and hoisted you off with a huff when you hopped into his lap to fidget with his belt.
And now that he finally drops the facasade, finally takes the reigns, the full moon stripping him of control and driving him to give your needy pussy exactly what she's been craving for, you're not about to stop him.
Might as well make the most of it.
Cunny hot and throbbing as his hands continue to knead at your flesh, and you realize, whatever's gotten into him, if really werewolf or not, might be a blessing in disguise.
"P-please," you finally gasp.
"Please what?" he's snarling low in his throat, leaning down, hot breath against your ear, "T-tell me. Tell me, tell me— gonna let me knot you? Breed my pretty girl and make you all mine? F-fuckkkk, been dreamin' about this— about this pretty lil' pussy."
Ohhhkayyy. Maybe Gideon wasn't just teasing you.
"M-mhmmm!" Your whimper breaks out before your cunt gushes slick in hot spurts, dripping down the curve of your ass, soaking the sheets beneath. The squelch squelch squelching of your loud cunny fills the room shamelessly, and the sweet scent of you hits him harder than a drug.
He groans, eyes glazed with hunger, and his boxers go flying, his bare cock bobbing, tip already swollen and angry. Your thighs clamp on instinct, then his hand tear them apart, fingers splaying you wiiiide, showing you off to himself, as his palm spreads your puffy folds, warm cunny open in weeping spurts.
And he's big.
Bigger than you've ever seen him— and you've deen his pretty dick up close countless of times— so damn big your breath stutters, thighs trembling as you take him in with wide eyes. Thick and heavy, with a mean curve upwards, veins roping around his girth, the blunt head flushed dark, leaking with pre.
"Caleb—h-holy—,"
"Yeahhhh, Pips. M' bigger now, h-hahhh?" he's muttering out a chuckle, fingers firm on your hips, "But yer' gonna take it f' me, riiight? Gonna knock that pretty cunny up and yer' gonna take it like a good girl?"
He lines up slow at your delirious nod, cockhead kissing your dripping entrance, first inch burning as your walls spread around him. He slides forward and you split deliciously around every inch he forces in, bottoming out with a whine that sends shivers up your spine.
"Fuh-fuckkk," he pants, fingers gouging crescent moons into your hips, nails dragging as the marks bloom red, "Good, so damn good. Gonna fuck you soooo good, baby."
Trembling under him, you're stretched wide, his cock pressing right into your sweet spot with percision, teasing your walls before his knot teases the rim of your cunny.
"Cay', I can't— it's toooo—"
"Pleaseee don't say that, baby," he pleas with desperation, voice breaking. His tip sinks deeper with each frenzied thrust, your snug walls swallowing him whole, milking his pre right out of him.
"You cannn. I know you can, pips. P-pleaseee." The last word drops into a whine, his forehead pressing to yours, lilac eyes blown wide as hands grip the back of your thighs rough, yanking them higher, folding you in half until your knees press to your chest. The shift makes his cock plundge deeper, stuffing you to the hilt, your belly bulging with the thick outline of him.
The knot bounces against you, swollen and impossibly firm, forcing every inch inside, head teasing your cervix as he grinds viciously, hard knot rubbing your clit raw.
"Fuckkk, j-just a littleeee bit more, baby," he growls, chest pressing against the back of your knees, sharp whites dragging harshly along your lips, "A-aaaalmost there," Strong hands push you further into the matress, dragging red trails on your thighs, "Just a little— o-oh."
Thhhwack!
Right then his knot finally slides past your stuffed hole, locking in deep. His body relaxes for a heartbeat against yours as the knot swells, until he ruts slowly, his clenching balls and leaking tip foreshadowing his sealed fate.
"Y-ya did it— ohhhh, my sweet girl did it. T-thank you— thank you sooooo much."
"O-oh god!"
And he's so lost not even letting you adjust to the newfound fullness before he starts hammering your g-spot, each shove driving the knot's bulbous head to press brutally against your raw-pounded walls, constant pressure of it all causing your mouth to fall slack open, only for him to lap at your mouth, licking your lips raw.
"Thankyouthankyouthank—"
He rasps into the shell of your ear, cutting himself off with a loud whine against your skin, hips stuttering almost comically before his teeth nip at your neck again, a gnawing bite along your collarbone.
Every thrust is obscenely sloppy, your juices dripping from the sides, and you're shaking as your cunt milks him greedily. Thwack after thwack resounds in the room, your mind clouded in thick smoke as you're turning dizzy, tasting your orgasm right at the tip of your tongue.
"C-cay', m'—"
But your orgasm rushes out of you before your words could, loudly squelching around his obscenely fat girth, soaking his cock, the mattress— everything in sight. His tip twitching with joy, threatening to pump you full any second now.
"H-hahhh! T-thank you, baby, so good, so damn good— fuckkk!"
Cock pulsing with firm thump thump thumps, his knock swells with heat, keeping his punishing thrusts up as he fucks you through your high.
"Lemme fill you up, pretty. P-please, I need it, need it more than anything, baby."
He takes your loud whine as a sign, and with one last hard rut his head falls flat into your neck, locking knot causing his tip to sput his thick ropes of white to reach the very depth of your cunny.
And as you gasp for air, his cock slips out with a wet draaaag, and you think, just for a moment that you'll get a chance to breathe.
But then his head dips low, big shadow over you disapearing before you legs twitch in his hold once you feel his breath right over your wrecked, swollen cunny, his still-spent cock twitching against the sheets.
"I'm sorry, pips' m' sooo sorry—"
Soft at first, he peppers kisses along the inside of your thighs, one after the other, then his sharp teeth graze your slick skin, his tongue flicking at every bruise his claws left.
Then his tongue darts out to drag straight through your puffy folds, moaning as he laps up the taste of you and his cum mixing on his tastebuds.
It dribbles down his chin, and he licks deeper, nose pressed to your clit, groaning as he mumbles into your pussy, "Shiiit, no m' not— m' not sorry," he slurs, sucking and swallowing every drop with a bwady sluuuurp!, "Too fuckin' sweet— mess s'ours. Allll ours, baby."
"Thahh-thank you, baby," he chokes between licks, voice wrecked and desperate, "Thank you, for lettin' me make you mine, fill this sweet pussy up," hands clutching your ass, he's kneading and spreading you wiiiide, legs still danging over your head.
"Caleb, m' yours, all youhhh— yours!"
And his tongue plunges in deep at your sudden confession, gifting your sore hole with sloppy licks, his broken whimpers ratting your bones, "Mhmmm, and m' yours. Use me— please use me, pips'. I'll take it— all of it. P-promise."
Your hands clutch at his messy curls, yanking hard enough to make him groan right into your cunt, your moans pitching high as your hips rutt up helplessly, chasing the tongue that draaags deep and sloppy through your folds.
Legs still folded in half, your calves are pressed into your chest, and his veiny hands firm on your thighs, pinning your helpless self down while he pludges his tongue right into your pussy, scraping out your mixed cum with his eyes rolling to the very far back of his skull.
"Yer' Caleb's got ya'. M' here— not goin' anywhere," he huffs out against you, voice mangled, a mess of juices and spit dribbling down his chin, "P-please cum f' me again. Wanna choke on it, pretty."
And his words sound like a threat as soon as his teeth graze your sensitive clit before leeching on it with greedy little moans, nose buried deep.
Your whole body seizes right there, shaking as your eyes roll back, throat raw with the sound of his name heavy on your tongue, grip on his hair slipping, too weak to hold him as your second orgasm forces through your veins.
But it doesn't matter. He's not letting up, eagerly lapping your next load of messy spray into his mouth, throat bobbing with each greedy gulp he takes.
Sleep claws at the corners of your blurred vision, exhaustion dragging you down, and your cute cunny just won't stop squirting, dripping non-stop, hips jerking in broken stutters as you cum and cum, unable to tell if this is another orgasm tearing through you or the aftershocks of the one before.
Caleb feels like he might burst another load right into the sheets as his eyes glance up at your fucked out form, whining into your pussy as he sees your eyes threatening to flutter shut.
He's addicted, rutting his twitching cock into the sheets beneath him with messy, damn near animalistic thrusts, cum smearing in frantic streaks across the fabric, hips snapping like he might die if he won't fuck another load into you anytime soon.
"D-don't tell me yer' done, pips'. Nononono— no fuckin' way, pretty. Still gotta— gotta make sure you take it. I'll die trying."
Yeah, there's no way he'll stop until you're knocked up.
Your eyes flutter shut, lashes sticky and damp, and the last thing you hear is the desperate sound of his voice as he drags himself up your trembling body, leaving one last kiss to your clit with a loud mwah!
His mouth is wet, filthy lips swollen glisterning when he reaches your face and leans down, smearing a nasty kiss across your cheek.
Even as you drift off, he peppers soft, desperate kisses over your face, tongue sliding down to catch your nipples, and whispering hoarse promises into your skin. And before sleep takes you fully, you feel the blunt, hot nudge of his fat tip against your spent pussy again.
"O-one more, baby. J-just one more."
Yeah, right.
.
.
.
By the time the first morning light spills through your bedroom window, your body's feeling numb, yet oddly smooth and clean, the ligh scent of your bodywash tangling in the smell of fresh bedsheets.
And as you squint your eyes open, Caleb lies curled against you, one beefy arm slung over your waist, holding you flush to his chest.
At first glance, he looks peaceful.
Just your ordinary roommate.
Your fingers twitch along his side, nerves jangling as you want to slip away, terrified at what happened the night before.
Of what you saw.
Stretching lazily, his eyes blink open, his familiar grin spreads across his handsome face, and you curse yourself for your heart faltering.
He's back to normal? Or was it all just a dream?
"Caleb, w-what was going on with you last night?" you ask, voice small, "Don't tell me you're… really a werewolf?"
Everything falls silent, your heart hammering out of your chest until—
He laughs.
Just laughs, loud and boyish, the sound brushing away some of your stirring fear. Embarrassment creeps up your cheeks.
Just why do you feel ridiculous for asking?
With the last splinters of doubt and fear dissapearing, you jab at his chest.
"Hey! What's so funny about that?!"
"Sorry, sorry," he giggles, rolling onto his side to face you, grin still teasing, "It's just… a werewolf? Really, Pips?"
His hand comes up to cup his own chin, tilting his head back and forth with an exaggerated frown. "What, you think I need to shave again or somethin'?"
And as your giggle rings the thin morning air, he stares in awe as your eyes scan his body.
No claws, no wild eyes, no feral smell.
Just Caleb.
Clean, familiar and normal. His shredded clothes replaced by comfy sweats, his costume planned for the party yesterday neatly hung in front of your dresser next to your own, even though you could've sworn he tore your poor costume to shreds last night.
A dream. A bad, naughty dream you had. That's what it was.
"So… none of it was real, huh?"
Exhaling a quick chuckle, he leans closer, smirk tugging at his lips. "Nonono, it was real," he purrs, brushing a lazy hand along your naked hip.
Your chest tightens with a flicker of fear, but then his voice softens, and the tension melts just enough, "Got home after grabbing something for the party, ready in my wolf costume and all... and then the little lamb was all over meeee~"
Alright, that's even crazier than your initial suspicion. Maybe you drank before he came or something?
For the life of you, you can't remember anything but the dream you had.
"Shut uppppp..."
Could it really have been like that? Did you just mistake it all for that werewolf costume of his?
"You must've been dreamin' somethin', baby," he wiggles closer, grin tickling your skin, "Went out cold yesterday, so I cleaned ya' up and hopped right into bed with ya."
Baby.
Oh. Right. That little word hits a nerve.
"Godddd, this is kinda awkward," you murmur, heart thumb thumb thumbing out of your chest, hands covering your face as if you could dissolve into thin air.
"Riiiight. We never…"
His eyes widen as you sit up slightly with tense shoulders, panic flickering across his face. He almost scrambles off the bed, hands already reaching for his hoodie, "If it's too much, I can go to my room. Or I'll pack my stuff and go to Gideon's—"
"Caleb. Lay your ass back down."
You giggle at his dumbfound expression, lip caged between your teeth as he obediently crawls back into the covers. And you let yourself sink back against him, snuggling into his broad chest.
You don't have to say a word more. Not now, not when you're still sore from yesterday.
All you want right now is to curl closer, sink into his warm chest and let the steady thrum of his heartbeat drown out every thought. Not think about what you are to each other, or that he's your roommate.
And also not what comes after this moment.
Maybe you'll talk later, or maybe you won't. But that's nothing you'll concern yourself with right now.
"This is nice," you murmur against his chest, almost purring as you squish your cheek against his beefy perk, arms curling tight around him.
"Mhmmm, reallll nice," he hums, pressing a lazy kiss to your head, and you giggle as he grins down at you.
Then, something gleams beneath the sheets. A flicker of lilac. Just beneath his naked chest, his veins glow, pulsing with a faint shine of purple.
But you don't notice it as your eyes flutter close with a yawn, your body relaxing against his as he cautiously watches the faint glow under his skin, trying so hard to get it to stop somehow.
"M' still tired," you suddenly mumble, burrowing into him, missing the shimmer beneath his skin. The sound of your soft sigh against him makes his chest loosen, relief flooding through him as he exhales slow, tense body finally easing.
Close call.
"Yeah, rest up, Pips'," he softly coos, eyes trailing down to your stomach, lingering just a second too long.
And he'd love to slap himself in the face for his cock pressing against the sheet, growing impossibly hard again.
God is his cock hurting bad, pushing out whisps of pre, desperate to burry it back into your sweet, addicting—
No. He has to calm down.
Fingers twitch against your hold as he closes his eyes to count, because if he doesn't—
Calm down. Deep. Breaths.
His lashes lower, head tilting as he nuzzles into you, stealing another deep sniff of your scent, grounding himself even as it causes his swollen girth to twitch beneath his sweats.
And he's no dumbass. He knows you'll realize soon enough. Especially once you'll see the trail of beastly marks scattered across your skin and find your actual costume torn to shreds in the trash.
But that's a lie he'll have to weave later. For now, he'll just hold you tighter, hoping you won't ask too many questions.
He'll tell you the truth someday. When the time comes.
Because some secrets and truths just aren't ready for daylight.
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?
