Hard Lemonade (Caleb Xia/MC)
Hallouuuu I finally finished my submission for @unintentionalseductress ' Hot Girl Summer Collab! 0w0 after....much struggling......ouhgh..my brain...
I unfortunately currently lack the brain cells to format it properly on tumblr so I'll provide the AO3 link and leave it open to the public to read for about a month before setting it to "AO3 users-only", like my other works xWx;; Thank you for your understanding, and please enjoy!!!
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Xia Yizhou | Caleb/You, Main Character/Xia Yizhou | Caleb
Tags: Fluff, Smut, Picnics, Grinding, Dry Humping, Clothed Sex, Vaginal Sex, Public Sex
Fic Link
EDIT (8/2/2025): YIPPEE I RISE FROM THE GRAVE AND CAN FINALLY FORMAT IT PROPERLY FOR TUMBLR LOL fic below the Read More ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧
The grassy hill has hardly changed since you two were last here as children. Nature’s march has hidden the path to the clearing from most of the public, but you rush up the incline with the unchanged confidence of your adventurous 10-year-old self. The moment your feet make it to the summit, you turn on your heel with a bright grin.
“I win!” you announce cheerily, preening underneath the summer sun. Your bold declaration of victory gets you a laugh from lower down the hill.
“I wasn’t aware we were racing.”
It takes Caleb a few extra moments to catch up to you. Impressive, given the numerous hefty bags loaded with food and snacks hanging off him.
“Well, we were. And I am clearly the winner,” you assert, chest puffed out.
He shakes his head, a puff of laughter leaving him. “I wonder how confident you’ll be on the way back. You won’t have the advantage of a handicap then.” To punctuate his point, Caleb raises one arm, his cargo full of tupperware jostling lightly as he does.
“Unnecessary.” You stick your tongue out at him, still grinning. “And anyways, it’s not as if I wasn’t carrying stuff either,” you point out, raising the mini cooler in your arms despite knowing full well that you had it easy. Then, with a more pointed stare, “Not my fault you wouldn’t let me take more of the bags.”
Caleb laughs lightly at that, shaking his head but ultimately has nothing to add by the time you speak again.
“That’s what I thought,” you huff. “Now come on. We’ve got a picnic to set up.”
He does just that, following you to a grassy clearing where you can lay out your spread for the afternoon. It takes some time given the sheer number of dishes Caleb insisted on bringing. Once you’re all done, a cursory glance at the bountiful spread he’s provided reveals quite a few of your favorite dishes and snacks.
You sigh and shake your head at the sight. “You really didn’t have to bring this much, you know.”
“I do when I know I’m picnicking with one very hungry pipsqueak.”
That earns him a snort from you. “Then it’s a good thing I had the foresight to keep us hydrated,” you reply, cracking open the mini cooler. It opens with a muted pop and Caleb peers inside, then looks up with a raised eyebrow as he pulls out a hard lemonade.
“Hydrate, you say?” he says, one finger underlining the ABV on the label.
You pull out a water bottle, brandishing it in self-defense. “There’s water too!” When Caleb’s mouth quirks into a doubtful slant, you pout. “Look, you did most of the picnic prep. So it only makes sense that I contribute something too.”
“But—“
“Caleb,” you interrupt, brow furrowing, “Let me do something too.”
At first he frowns a bit, but his lips lift with a sigh. “Okay, okay. But what I’m more worried about is whether or not you can handle your own contribution.”
You’re not fast enough to stop the offended scoff that escapes you. “Wha—! O-of course I am! I’m not a baby anymore, Caleb!”
He looks you up and down. You warm under his scrutiny, knowing exactly where he’s going with this; you’ve always been smaller than him, and that hasn’t changed since becoming drinking age.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, you big dummy!” you snap back just a second too fast to be mature.
Your withering stare does nothing to dissuade his next words. “I dunno. Seems to me you’re still a pipsqueak.”
You swat at him ineffectually, which he bats away with a smile. “Shut up and unpack the food.”
Caleb salutes you with a defeated chuckle, eyes crinkled with amusement. “Yes ma’am.”
Once everything is set up, it doesn’t take long for you to indulge in the abundant food and drink—and drink you do, until you’re as red as the sky and floating just as high. Everything is so comfy cozy, like sinking into a warm cradle of the plushest pillows and blankets.
The cradle rumbles beneath you with a light laugh.
“Feeling okay there, pipsqueak?”
You crack one eye open, a loopy giggle of contentment spilling out of you at the sight of Caleb above you. He’s a bit blurry like this, but it’s him; your heart flutters all the same.
“M-hmmm,” you confirm, snuggling deeper into him.A light gasp cuts through your addled senses and your cradle shifts underneath you, still careful to not disturb you too much.
“So you say, but I think you might have had just a little too much…” he murmurs, mostly to himself.
It’s not your fault, your booze-ladened brain reasons; the food was good and good drink only makes good food even gooder.
A giggle escapes you at your own stupid joke.
There’s a hand on your forehead, pushing apart your hair to take your temperature. You sigh at the cool sensation, thoughtlessly nuzzling against Caleb’s touch. A breeze blows by, taking his shuddering sigh with it.
“No, m’fine,” you assert, oh-so-convincing with your heavy head resting against his chest.
“Right. Sure you are,” he replies, tone steady. Your glass begins to slip out of your hand and your eyes shoot open as you catch it.
Except you aren’t catching the bottle from falling; rather, you’re preventing Caleb from pulling it out of your grip.
“What’re you doin’?” you mumble, eyes narrowing with accusation.
Caleb angles an innocent look at you. “Just taking care of this. You looked like you were about to conk out.”
Your ruddy cheeks puff into a pout. “M’fine,” you repeat. “I can finish it.”
His lips pull into a teasing tilt. “Can you?”
“I can,” you insist, words slurring at the edges.
He hums at that, deceptively noncommittal even as he divests you of your drink anyways. You can only watch with wide, indignant eyes as he proceeds to down what is left of your drink in heavy gulps that cause his Adam’s apple to bob up and down.
“Hey! Guh-give that back!”
You raise your arm to take back your drink, only to catch air. The alcohol in your system prevents your umpteenth failure from dampening your fighting spirit and you make yet another clumsy attempt to grab the bottle out of his hands, fingernails barely glancing the bottom of the glass as Caleb simply sits up a little taller to keep your quarry out of reach.
“C’mon, pipsqueak. You’ve had enough for today.” His voice is gentle yet firm, and you pout with the knowledge that he means it. A light laugh escapes him as you make yet another swipe for the drink, despite his attempts to sound stern. “See? Where are those Hunter’s reflexes now?”
“It’sh fine! I can finish it by myself!”
Caleb raises a brow at you, watching how you seem to sway in your seat despite the lack of a breeze. “Uh-huh,” he replies with total conviction. “There’s no shame in asking for help, you know.”
A flare of annoyance ignites the warm, alcohol-induced haze clouding your mind. “Don’ need it! An’ anyways, I’m the one who brought the drinks. S’mine.”
You grunt, arm straining to grab the bottle again. With an annoyed growl, you give up on trying to snatch your drink back. Perhaps Caleb is right; your Hunter’s reflexes aren’t nearly as sharp as they usually are in your current state.
However, a thought occurs to you: a good Hunter recognizes when it is time to change strategies and uses everything they’ve got at their disposal.
You turn over on your front and crawl forward to try and gain more ground, ignoring the surprised wheeze that comes from below you as you continue to squirm and struggle on Caleb’s lap, taking a moment to put on a good show of reaching for your drink again before huffing and slumping down onto him.
“H-hey, not here—“
Whatever line of thought he was about to express is lost in the sharp inhale he makes when you shamelessly shove your face into the crook of his neck, whining and nuzzling like a jilted, needy puppy.
“C’mooon…” you mumble against his throat, lips brushing his skin. “Caaaleb...”
His breath hitches and you feel rather than hear the makings of a groan emerging from his throat. Caleb murmurs your name, the word thick and raspy on his tongue. You grin to yourself, quite pleased with the probable success of your underhanded tactics, and continue to press the attack. You press your mouth flush against his pulse. It throbs against your lips, thumping harder as you continue to litter his throat with clumsy kisses that fill the summer air with wet pops.
“There’s no one here but us,” you reason between fleeting kisses. “This is our special spot, so it’s not like anyone would know we’re here.”
Caleb lets out a sharp, drawn-out breath, as if he’d been holding it for years. Even through your dampened senses you can faintly feel him reacting underneath you, acutely aware of each hiss that escapes between his teeth, every shiver or clench of his muscles.
When you pull back abruptly, Caleb practically whimpers at the loss. His mouth parts, perhaps to coax you back or voice his disappointment, only for his jaw to hang open at the sight of you reaching back to slide a hand underneath your dress skirt. It takes a moment for you to properly guide your panties off your hips, but you don’t miss the way Caleb’s eyes track your movements, his gaze transfixed on the lacy garment fluttering from your fingers for a short second before you blithely toss it aside onto the picnic blanket in favor of going for his zipper.
He doesn’t stop you from unzipping him, allowing you to paw at him as you please while you tilt your face to catch his lips with yours. You swallow his groans and giggle against him when you feel his hips jolt or buck into your hand through his boxers.
When you pull away to speak, a thin thread of saliva hangs between you two. It dangles and sways with your shared breaths.
“Can I? Can I please, Caleb?”
You punctuate your question with a squeeze of your hand. A thrill goes through your chest at the broken gasp that leaves him, but you only continue to fondle and tease him through his clothes until a wet spot forms at the straining tip and a rumbling “yes” slips past his groans.
At his assent, you waste no time pulling out his cock and positioning yourself over it. You clumsily hover over it, grunting with mild frustration as you fail to find your mark. A few more seconds of drunkenly fumbling with Caleb’s dick pass by, and he thankfully stays patiently silent throughout it all until you simply decide to drop down into his lap and grind.
You drag your naked cunt across his shaft with a ragged breath, hips falling into a jagged but constant rhythm. He’s so hard against you and your head turns fuzzy every time the tip presses deliciously against your clit or catches on your drooling, throbbing entrance. Occasionally, his hips buck up into yours in a bid for more and you find your forehead resting against his collarbone, fingers twisted in the front of his shirt.
You lift your heavy head to nose your way back into the crook of his neck, panting murmured iterations of his name that stick to Caleb’s throat like sweat. His hands have made their way to your hips and you can’t help but squeak with surprise when his touch roams to your thighs and ass instead, relentlessly grabbing, kneading, and pinching what flesh he has access to.
A small noise of surprise leaves your throat when unsteady but firm fingers tip your chin up. There’s barely any time to react because Caleb is on you again, the whimpering against your mouth not abating even when you open your mouth to give him what he wants. His tongue slides past your slippery, swollen lips and you surprise him by momentarily sucking on it.
When he pulls away, your vision refocuses just enough for you to take him in. The summer sunset dyes him red like the desire running through his veins and there’s a pained yet manically gleeful look to his eyes. There’s a distinct moment where you feel like you are about to fall into the endless pits of his pupils, now blown wide with you, you, you.
He pulls you towards him, until your foreheads are touching. When Caleb speaks, his voice comes out as a gravelly whisper.
“Lemme help, pipsqueak.” He gives you a short buck of his hips, pulling a sharp breath out of you that devolves into a low moan when he switches to grinding slowly against your core. “I meant it when I said there’s no shame in asking for help.”
Caleb gives you another meaningful roll of his hips that is a touch too fast to properly belie his desperation. You’re not blind to what he means or just how badly he wants it.
And for better or worse you’re just as bad off, nodding with a loopy giggle.
Your world spins, a kaleidoscope of faded red gingham and July skies, and you soon find yourself staring up at Caleb instead of the clouds. He fills your field of vision and holds your gaze as he positions himself at your entrance, his leaking tip just a single push away from entering you. He reaches a hand out to you, palm encompassing your cheek. As if on instinct, you turn your face towards his touch, nuzzling him contentedly until you shoot him a mischievous look and lick a stripe along the plush curve of his thumb.
Your goading is all Caleb needs to cant his hips forward, penetrating you in a single long, slow stroke. You let out a nearly soundless gasp, teeth digging into your lip as he sinks further and further into you until you’re filled to the brim with him.
Another breathy giggle bursts from your lips when he latches onto your neck, leaving a trail of clumsy kisses that reach all the way down to your sternum. Your still-clothed chest blooms with the warmth of his breath as he uselessly mouths at your breasts through the thin cotton of your dress. You take pity on him and push his head back just enough so you can fumble with your dress buttons. Miraculously, you manage to part the fabric without ripping it clean off, and it takes him no time to return the favor by wrapping his lips around a nipple and sucking, all while his hips slam against yours again and again.
Your body trembles and you wrap your legs around him, surrendering yourself entirely to him. You don’t even have the willpower to warn him about your impending release but he seems to sense it anyways, his pace suddenly quickening. You’re left scrambling for purchase, a staccato stream of gasps and moans squeezing past your lips and burning your ears until all that comes out of you is a long, keening note of bliss to convey your peak.
Your walls clamp down on him, hungrily sucking him in, and Caleb makes a sound like the air has been punched out of him. Whatever restraint he may have had left snaps immediately, turning his thrusts into shallow, desperate ruts, and a reedy whimper rumbles in his chest. You help spur him on, slipping your hands underneath his shirt to grasp at him greedily and run your hands along the strong planes of his back. When he drops his face down to yours to catch you in a clumsy kiss that is a confused mess of lips and tongue, you readily accept it with a happy murmur.
The sounds he makes grow in volume and frequency, and it’s not long until he sheathes himself in you as far as he can go with a sharp thrust of his hips, shaking as he spills himself inside of you. Heat rises to your cheeks with every splash of warmth but you’re as content as can be, knowing you’re right where you need to be.
His arms tremble with the effort to keep himself upright, but you immediately ruin his efforts by pulling him down onto you. Caleb lets out a yelp of surprise and is quick to roll onto his side to avoid crushing you. None of that is important to you right now though, not when you inch closer to him to leave a smattering of fleeting kisses all over his ruddy cheeks that only glow ever brighter under your attention, thoroughly drunk on him.
It’s only later, when you’re cleaning up and leaving, that you’ll realize you forgot all about your drink. Not that you’re any less satisfied.
