med people are so annoying "This family's 8 year old child who was about to go through a major surgery and kept crying that she was hungry so they pitied her and gave her food, she then had a heart attack in the surgery. They're so stupid 😒" girl they didn't know that could happen or why it happens. it takes so little time to explain to them that will happen instead of telling them "no food" with no explanation 10 times
"Before surgery, your body’s reflexes that protect your airway are relaxed by anesthesia. If there’s food or liquid in your stomach, it will near certainly come back up and go into your lungs, which can cause choking, a severe lung / heart infection or even a heart attack. That’s called aspiration, and it is life-threatening. It's hard, but it's only a single day to prevent near certain death. Not eating or drinking beforehand massively lowers the risk and helps prevent these life threatening situations under anesthesia." <- TIP: patients have brains which allows them to receive information just like you
I have four kids. I’ve had one or another of them need some kind of surgical procedure that requires anesthesia four or five times over the past 15 years.
This Tumblr post is the first time someone has explained to me *why* I couldn’t feed them before those instances.
I’m not stupid. I understood that just fine. Hell, my kids would have understood that just fine. But no one bothered to tell us.
i did know this before having kids (i have six). we have a kid that's needed multiple procedures requiring anesthesia. and every single time, i am asked multiple times if i'm sure he was not given any food or water after a certain point.
every single time i have had to say, "i understand that if he had food or water, he could aspirate it into his lungs under anesthesia. i am not lying to you." THEN someone would make a little note and i would stop being repeatedly asked.
not a single time was that risk explained to me. the only reason it came up was because i already knew. i still don't understand why it isn't standard pre-op counseling or pre-op check information, when me as a parent acknowledging the actual risk also put THE MEDICAL STAFF at ease because i conveyed that i had informed understanding as reason to not lie about giving my kid food.
"maybe some people will get nervous and refuse surgery" okay so they need more counseling about risks and anxiety, not less information in a way that actually does endanger their child or themselves!
♱⋅── about: caleb loses a bet and surrenders control to you for tonight. he thinks he can handle it. he can’t.
♱⋅── word count: 2.9k
♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, pwp, cw breeding kind, tied up caleb, slight themes of cnc, riding him, unprotected sex, overstimulation, > gege lots of gege < , sub!caleb mostly, questionable moral code is applied yes.
art credit to @/damn-i-exist
Oh, he was wrong.
Caleb had miscalculated grievously and was so, so, terribly wrong.
He considered himself a man able to withstand many things, and the four years in the Academy made him into a living weapon, equipped with utmost self-control, unquestionable stamina, and the unwavering strength of a soldier.
And yet five minutes into losing his bet with you, he feels his body and mind begin to fail him entirely.
“Earth to Caleb, I hope you’re not going to give in already.” The smirk is audible in your voice, especially as you grind your hips forward and relish in the shuddered exhale that is his response. “Cause that would mean I win.”
It’s intoxicating, confusing, the way his body stopped responding to him the moment you got on top of him. Caleb’s not really thinking of much right now outside of just how nice the orange glow of your nightlight hits your figure, how damn low that tank top is, and when the fuck did those shorts get so small on you?
He jerks his hands up instinctively, the automatic soldier’s reflex to seize control, the want to touch, to grab. To flip you the fuck over and have his way.
But the bind around his wrists catches.
Hard.
Caleb bites back a hiss, teeth grinding at the pull against his arms. “I’m doing just fine,” he grits out, smile crooked in a way that makes you want to laugh. “Fantastic, even.”
“Mhm,” you hum, “keep telling yourself that. I want to see how long that lasts, gege.”
The look he gave you then, frustration, disbelief, a flicker of something dangerously close to surrender, was the kind of thing someone could get addicted to.
Your thumb traces the rough edge of his lips, once, twice, before pushing into his mouth, muffling the surprised grunt he gives you as you lean in.
“Open.”
His eyes widen, jaw falling slack almost immediately as you spit into his waiting tongue, slapping his cheek lightly after. So obedient.
Caleb swallows, and you swear you feel him twitch underneath you.
“Good boy.”
God, he liked that more than you did.
His moan is muffled around your thumb, but the raspy edge of it is enough to have you clenching around nothing. You’re taking more. Now.
Spreading your knees out wider on either side of Caleb’s waist, you rock yourself backward, immediately rewarded with the hard press of his abs and something even more solid below, friction heavenly and far too little all at once. At the mere contact he lets out another moan, muffled as Caleb sucks on your fingers, curling himself up to stare you right in the eyes.
“Please,” he’s begging already. “Please do something- anything- more.”
Your eyes soften, but your smile doesn’t. “Down, boy. I thought we both agreed on what the loser would have to do.” Your fingers skim his jawline, tracing down his throat before pinning him back down to the mattress with just your pointer finger on his chest. He could fight you so easily if he wanted to. “You have ‘ta listen to whatever,” you sing out the word, dragging it out as your nail teases down his chest, “I say.”
“I’m not—” He stops, swallows, and tries again. You’re being so infuriating it’s taking everything not to rip control back from you, fuck you hard and fast and make you a moaning mess like he knows you like. “I am listening.”
You laugh softly, delighted. “Good then, puppy.”
Caleb freezes.
You watch his pupils dilate, nearly engulfing the galaxy in his eyes to an abyssal black, watch the tension ripple across his chest, watch the heat flush the tips of his ears bright red, all at once.
“…Puppy?” he echoes, voice rougher than before.
You tilt your head, studying the way the word seems to unravel him from the inside.
“Mhm,” run your thumb along his jaw, savoring the way he leans into your touch. “My puppy. It suits you, gege.”
This is embarrassing, it’s so embarrassing and he’s so fucking hard right now.
Caleb surges forward, lips smashing onto yours as he kisses you like he’s starving for it. No complaints from you, meeting him as the force clicks your teeth together before his tongue swipes your lip as an apology, drooling into you as his weight presses as close as the restraints will let him.
You tug his face up as his tongue meets yours, hot, sweet, desperate in a way that feels like you’re melting into one another as you lose yourself in the kiss. Not close enough, never close enough, even as you grind closer, the heat between your legs unbearable. You can feel the sweat dripping from his temples, damp heat against your skin, and the kiss melt like hot sugar and something burning.
A hot, undeniable heat of late summer that makes everything in your body boil and sweat, all-consuming and impossible to ignore. The air between you feels thick with it, syrupy, suffocating, every breath shared back and forth until you can’t tell where one of you ends and the other begins. Somewhere in the half-breaths you dare take you throw your shirt off, hardened nipples grazing Caleb’s chest as he feels himself slipping at the sight of your body.
Every kiss only leaves the both of you hungrier, an aching burn spreading through your body.
Standing up on shaky legs, Caleb whines at the loss of you, chasing you up until the scarf tied against his arms jerks him back down.
“Shh, it’s okay, gege,” you tug down your sleep shorts and panties in one drag, letting them fall to your ankles as Caleb’s jaw snaps shut. “I’m just making it easier for you.”
He’d agree to be tied up every second of every fucking day if it meant you looking down at him, completely naked and smiling so damn innocently like this.
Pulling a condom out from your nightstand, you climb back into Caleb’s lap slowly enough to make him watch every movement. Every muscle in his body strains as his skin touches yours, hands fighting the urge to break free before you’re pulling him into a kiss and he simply melts, moaning your name.
A giggle slips from you, swallowed immediately by Caleb’s eager tongue as he chases the sound, kissing you harder, needier, like he can’t stand even a second of distance between you. You let him indulge in it while your hands drift lower, fumbling deliberately with the waistband of his boxers before pulling his poor, leaking cock out, the heft of it springing into your palms.
Caleb full-body shudders, breath catching hot against your mouth, and the reaction alone nearly makes you laugh again. So desperate already.
You toy with the condom between your fingers, peeling the wrapper open slowly while Caleb watches with hooded eyes, every hulking inch of him tense with anticipation. A predator unable to pounce. When you hold it up in front of his face, he leans toward it instinctively, helpless with want.
Cruel delight curls in your chest at the sight.
And then you toss it carelessly across the bed.
“I don’t think we’ll be needing this.”
The whine Caleb lets out will haunt your every dream. “No, no. Pips, princess, please. Don’t— don’t do that to me, let me fuck you. I’ll make you feel so good, please.”
You tilt your head, acting confused as you slide your hips down until you’re hovering right above his dick.
“I never said I wouldn’t let you fuck me.” A smile, evil and so, so satisfied.
And god, you can feel and hear just how wet you’re getting. The loud, obnoxious slap each time you rock forward, the popping suction of your pussy dragging against the wonderfully hard length of his dick, feeling it throb and jump with the hot friction.
Caleb is clenching his jaw hard enough to snap. His entire dick flushed raw pink, twitching and dripping with your slick and an embarrassing amount of precum all drooling down the veins of his dick and sticking to your inner thighs. His hips stutter to meet yours despite himself, despite knowing this was dangerous territory, despite every rock of your bare cunt against him feeling like heaven and sin and fuck his eyes are rolling back at the mere thought of more.
“Stop,” Caleb’s plea comes out pathetically weak. He’s already rocking into you again before the word’s even finished. “Come on, I- I’ve told you how dangerous this is.”
“Ya, we’ve had the talk a bunch when we were kids.” You pout, sitting back as you both look down to the sticky, wet mess between you. One hand goes to pump the remaining slick up and down his dick as the other circles your own clit, Caleb’s eyes racing back and forth between the two as though he can’t decide where to look first. “But I’m an adult now, gege. And I really, really want you inside me.”
Caleb’s going to die.
You’re going to kill him.
But fuck, if you don’t stop moaning through your bitten lips as you play with yourself, he’s not sure he’ll mind.
“Please, baby,” he’s whimpering, gasping out for air as his immobilized body jerks and humps into your hand, dick flushed from the attention but not enough for any real release. It hurts. He needs you so badly it hurts. “Grab another condom, please. Fuck me, use me, I can’t– I can’t stop myself much longer.”
He feels your lips curl into a devilish grin as you lean down, whispering, “Then don’t.”
And the feeling of you slamming down onto his cock, that searing, wonderful pressure, shatters any restraint Caleb had left.
His broken moan is a little more than a sob in your ear, the entire bedframe creaking as Caleb’s back arches, every thick, bulky muscle underneath you flexing as you continue to ride him, a single hand pushing his hips back down to the bed.
It’s all he can think about. Your nails digging into his abs, the sting of your marks as you lose yourself on top of him. The overwhelming heat of your body. The dizzying drag of you rocking up and down again and again until every thought in his head is melting, spinning, just the feeling of you every raw part of you, the way you’re forcing him to hit that spongy spot, the force abusing his oversensitive tip until it’s euphoric pain.
Seeing your strong, protective gege turn absolutely stupid under you only makes you want to push him further. Your thighs burn with the stretch around his impressive quads, legs trembling as you force yourself to go faster. More, you want-need more. You need him to cum inside you.
Caleb whines at that, shaking his head vigorously as he looks up at you through tear-stained lashes. You didn't even realize you were slurring all that out loud. “Don’t, don’t say that. Can’t- won’t stop but fuuuck” he’s moaning again, hips jerking off the bed as the angle forces him right up to your cervix. “I should.”
He doesn’t stop.
You both know he won’t.
The entire bed is shaking when your legs give in, collapsing onto Caleb’s sweat-slicked chest as you keep rutting down into him, clawing into his shoulders for leverage. It’s so much, his tip pressing every spot inside you, the heavy drag of each thrust turning you stupid, drooling into Caleb’s neck as you bite and suck every inch of salty, sweaty skin.
You feel yourself already getting close. “You don’t want to? You don’t want to fill me up?” A whimper, you can’t tell from who as you get tighter, entire body tensing as shocks of pleasure jolt through you. “Please, please. I need it. Please cum inside me, gege.”
Then there’s the loud, undeniable rip of the scarf you’d been using as makeshift binds tearing to shreds, Caleb’s palms slamming onto your hips with a harsh slap.
Raw handprints burn into your skin as Caleb lifts you right into the air, slamming you back down onto his dick. Your eyes roll back, unable to do anything but laugh deliriously as he uses you with every ounce of his remaining strength.
“Again, say it again.”
“P-please cum inside me.” You’re blabbering the words over and over again, body turning to mush as you collapse on top of him.
Feeling every vein, every slap of his pelvis on your clit has you screaming, trembling as your release sprays onto both your thighs. So, so much of it. Your lips open in a silent scream as you squirt around the base of his cock, the mess splattering onto Caleb’s abs as his pupils dilate at the sight.
“Again.”
Then, you’re being manhandled like a doll. Caleb locks you in tight, chest to chest, your tits squished against his pecs, swinging an arm around as he traps you in a headlock, the other slamming your hips down as your head goes fuzzy from the suffocation and bruising, delicious force of him ramming right into your cervix. “Do it again.”
Your nails claw at his bicep, spine arching into his body as the two of you melt into one another, sweat and cum and desperation sticking and dripping from you. Caleb’s strength was failing him too, each grind of your hips, the way your pussy is still convulsing and leaking around him breaking his restraint into something dangerous.
If it is what you wanted, if this is what you needed, then wouldn’t he be such a horrible older brother to deny you?
He’ll give you what you want.
He’ll always give you everything you want.
“This is your fault.” Right as Caleb’s hips falter something else begins to lift you up, gravity itself binding you as his Evol rams you down. “Spoiled you rotten, can’t say no– fuuuck– can’t say no to you.” Up again, down again. Inhumane speed leaving you sobbing as his headlock doesn’t lessen, free hand now moving to your poor neglected clit, quick circles that have you drooling.
“Again.”
“Caleb,” the headlock, the pleasure, it leaves you gasping,”I-I can’t–”
“Again.”
You’re already cumming.
“You wanted this. Begged for this.” He’s drunkenly buckling up into you, hammering his hips into yours. Nose-deep into the crook of your neck as your vision spins from it all. “So take it. Take it, take everything your gege gives you.”
Finally, he gives you what you wanted. The force of his release is dizzying, hot and addictive as you both feel his cum swell your insides. But the thrusts never stop, Caleb’s dick forcing globs of your mixed releases out as he’s already chasing another.
“Greedy pussy needs more. You knew I’d cave, knew I’d fill you right to the womb—” Letting you gasp in air as his palm moves to press down on your belly. You feel every inch of him now. “—but ‘s still not enough, not until you’re swollen with it, begging me this time.” He moans at the thought, delirious, and you whine as you feel him fill you up once more, Evol pinning you as close as possible. Another orgasm.
Immediately, his fingers are at your clit again, a punishing slap to your pussy enough to have you scream before Caleb’s palm comes back up to muffle your cries. Nips your ear in punishment.
“Stop whining and take it, listen to your gege and take it.”
You’re fighting the force of his Evol as bursts of pleasure-pain make you thrash against the binds of gravity, moans and sobs broken behind his hand, nothing coherent left in your mind as you squirt once more. Your legs don’t stop shaking.
Caleb can’t hold on much longer either. The sight of you completely losing control atop of him drives him insane, and the way your pussy keeps hugging him back in wanting more and more. He can’t stop. Doesn’t want to, never wants to after this.
You’re still in the middle of cumming as he thumbs over your clit once more, finally sitting up as the new angle forces you down even further into his lap, and you’re sure your Evol is amplifying his with how much power is behind every thrust, working overtime as Caleb’s hands are pinching and rolling your oversensitive nipples and clit, hugging you tight as his body convulses behind you.
It’s overwhelming, his dick no longer thrusting but grinding, unable to part from you, the swollen head pushing past your cervix as his release keeps filling and filling you. You don’t feel it end, heat sticking to your insides and being shoved deeper, your body still spasming and helpless to do anything but take it.
There’s too much of it, Caleb’s body collapsing atop yours as he trembles. His cock was so, so sensitive but he couldn’t stop cumming, feeling every strand fill you up past your limit, watching the slight bloat of your tummy as the rest leaks down your thighs, staining the mattress from god knows how long it's been. It’s so obscene, so filthy and it just makes him want to fuck you raw again.
The first thing you can make out when reality comes back to you is the quiet laugh as Caleb drops his forehead onto your shoulder, panting into your skin as he leaves open-mouthed kisses there.
He doesn't pull out and you don't want him to either, the two of you falling back into the pillows as you moan at every slight shift inside you.
I keep seeing inspirational tradwife adjacent mass-manufactured art using the phrase Nevertheless, She Persisted, and every time I see this, I want to just like. Take a marker and footnote it to remind everyone that this phrase came from McConnell censuring Senator Elizabeth Warren who was speaking out against the confirmation of noted racist Jeff Sessions as the Attorney General in 2017.
So since that was almost 10 years ago and some people may not know or may not remember, I'm footnoting it here so every time Y'ALL see it in tradwife adjacent mass-manufactured fluff-feminist artwork, you too can remember that it doesn't reference just anything, it references a woman speaking up on behalf of vulnerable and endangered populations and being professionally rebuked for it--and persisting anyway. I think it matters.
Sheltered farmboy Clark hates doggy with a passion. He thinks it’s degrading to women, and he hates it because he can’t see your pretty face. He wants to see your hazy eyes after a good fuck, wants to kiss you when he cums.
But you beg and plead and even cry. He trusted you for everything else, why not this?! You even give him the silent treatment for exactly 18 minutes. That’s enough to break him.
So Clark bends you over on your bed, apologizing profusely. His mama would smack him over the head for treating his girl like this. But he can’t deny how good you look, ass perked up in the air. You wiggle impatiently too.
Clark can see everything as he nudges your lips apart with the tip, how it glistens with each pass. He can watch as he slowly presses in, your puffy pussy struggling to take every thick inch. Your cute hole back there winks back at him too.
Clark settles his hands on your waist, slowly pushing into you. You gasp at the feeling; he’s so thick and long, and this position has him in your lungs. But when you nod weakly and tell him to move, all that blurs along with your vision.
It’s perfect, the angle hitting the right spots just enough to have you keening. You push back against his every thrust, your pussy soaking everything. There’s soft little plaps as his balls smack against your clit, and each one has your breath catching. Clark shifts his angle, just to get a better seat on his knees.
“Right there!” You cry out in a strangled whimper. You can feel his tip pressing on a new spot, right against the back. You go boneless and collapse face first. “There, Clarkie!”
Your desperate whimper has Clark whimpering too,. You can feel his hands tight on your waist, bringing you back. Clark’s staring at that little frothy ring around the base of his cock, and something snaps. He goes harder, knocking each whimper out of you with a groan of his own. Clark’s hand drifts to your clit, rubbing soft circles and sending you flying into your orgasm. Usually this is when Clark would stop .
But Clark’s too entranced with how your pussy nearly refuses to let go as he pulls back. He’ll even brush a thumb over your spread folds, and come at the sight of your pussy fluttering.
Later, when you’re spent with his seed dripping outof you, Clark will fuss over you. He’ll apologize for going too hard and too long.
“Next time, pull my hair,” You mumble .
Clark turns bright red at that, and protests amidst gasps and sputters. But the twitch of his cock against his thigh means you’ll get your way once again.
the thing about being a homeschool abolition hardliner is that people always want to come to you with some bullshit sob story about how you hate disabled people because they were bullied for being autistic and homeschooling was so amazing for them. and it's just like well unfortunately homeschooling is also a widespread tool of coercive control of child abuse used by christofascists to raise kids without the tools they need to function in the world so that they will always be afraid, dependent, and unable to think critically and discern right from wrong and truth from lies. so unfortunately i do think this is a situation where in order to prevent enormous harm to untold numbers of children those bullied kids who just don't wanna go to school are going to have to suck it up. (and in reality what i always propose is a more robust system of alternative/magnet public schooling set up for kids who are basically on grade level but who DO struggle to thrive in a mainstream setting, but nobody ever wants to hear that, they just want to guilt you for not thinking anyone who ever gets picked on should just get to stay home and play vidya and do all their lessons on zoom. and it's like honestly i don't think you're having this argument in good faith bc you are very much centering hypothetical discomfort you MIGHT HYPOTHETICALLY have experienced over, again, widespread child abuse and neglect. so.)
I started using Head and Shoulders ten years ago for itchy scalp and dandruff, and then for ten years I have not had itchy scalp and dandruff, so I thought “why do I still buy shampoo to combat itchy scalp and dandruff when I do not have itchy scalp and dandruff,” so I stopped buying the shampoo for itchy scalp and dandruff and can you guess I have now? Can you predict what currently afflicts me? It’s alright if you can’t because apparently I fuckin couldn’t either
Cutting something out of your life because you think you don’t need it any more only to realize that it was in fact working as intended and preventing a problem that will return should you stop doing this is a good experiment to run periodically with something small like dandruff shampoo, lest you start to think it would be a good idea to do this with like let’s say public health and the social safety net and vaccines
I had a liver transplant when I was 14 and like six months later I was chatting with my surgeon and he said “there’s gonna come a time, probably when you’re a teenager, where you’re gonna think, ‘I feel great, why am I still taking all this medication? I haven’t needed it in years.’ and you’re gonna want to stop taking all this medication. Guess what’s gonna happen then? You’re gonna go into rejection and your liver is gonna start failing, and you’re gonna be dying again, and we’re gonna have to find you another liver. So don’t do that.” And I said “why the fuck would anyone do that?” and he said “people are stupid.”
every once in a while when I get annoyed by a pharmacy or don’t wanna get out of bed to do my drugs I think “ugh, this is dumb, why do I do this?” and that conversation slams into me like a truck and I remember that I am, in fact, stupid
I notice alot of my followers on here skipping these posts just to mess with my lgbt ones, suspiciously the white popular ones.
Heres a not so friendly reminder, as an lgbt metis person, i dont give a single fuck what your blog is themed or if this is too painful for you to look at. Reblog this post. Reblog this post with the sources of the 751 children who were found.
Your compliance and silence as well as the compliance and silence of your ancestors is what allowed these schools to open and kill first nations children. The children of MY people.
Dont follow me if you cant reblog this post or the one with sources to your political blog or your most popular blog. Add trigger warnings if you must but if your political blog is only focused on the harms you personally face like being lgbt then you need to see some bigger pictures and stop being afraid of angering your racist mutural or actually saying some shit about racism. If you can reblog some antifa graphics or add blm to your bio to be a surface level ally, you can reblog some sources on the genocide first nations people faced and still face today.
I’d like to add this photo I took last night in Victoria of the statue of Captain Cook. Though I myself am not indigenous, I 100% agree that these murderers, kidnappers and rapists shouldn’t have huge statues and plaques that decorate them and say how “great” they were.
Here’s another photo of the legislative assembly from yesterday. Later on there were more items, candles and signs at the memorial, as well as a big poster with 1505 painted on it but I didn’t get a picture
People need to see this. Not just quickly glance at the photos and keep on scrolling. They need to see this.
I had seen the first picture of the church, but not the second.
I went to a “Cancel Canada Day” event and burst into tears - not because I was surprised to learn of the unmarked graves (survivors told us they were there. Our government pushed it aside, and we let them), but because seeing all the people gathered in mourning drove it home: They. Were. Children.
This is my country’s legacy - and it’s not history. The last schools closed during my lifetime. My Father went to school with students who lived at the local residential school, after it was changed to a boarding house (read: holding centre) for indigenous youth who went to local schools.
They were all children, injured, abused, and killed in my country’s attempt to erase them. I want the world to see this and hold the state accountable to *active* reconciliation> I mean we could at least truly adopt UNDRIP in action instead of words for god’s sake.
here you can read an article about a survivor of the church and some of the things he experienced to help put into perspective how awful and just how recent it was
It's a beautiful word, really. Something to be used in many contexts.
Fuck this. Fuck that. Fuck you. For Fuck's sake. Only a small pinch of what blooms out of Shane’s regular everyday vocabulary, a versatile thing that was always there to truly help him express himself.
The very word runs rampant in Shane’s head, looping over and over in a messy string, nearly mouthed out with the purse of his lips – But not for the reason one may think.
The burly man storms through the rough debris that dared to sprout around the edge of your farm, the entrance from the Ranch side path almost deliberately left unkempt, surely just to piss him further off, right? Add to the blasting hot flush that wrecked up his body, fueled with hot white annoyance and the nauseating touch of what felt like a fever.
All this over a midnight snack – Cookies.
Or so he initially thought. Two bags wrapped up all pretty on the dining table, an obnoxious bow tied all prissy and pristine with a little tag, a message scrawled in your handwriting: “Special Treats!” - Little Miss Perfect infiltrating his home life now? Was the Saloon and his Goddamn place of work not enough for you?
Look at you, trying to pander around- Coming ‘round and gifting Aunt Marnie these treats, that sweet smile you usually threw at him surely smeared on your face, that crinkle in your eyes that had him chewing on his inner cheek lest he barked out something truly horrid. Sickeningly sweet - Enough to have his gut churn every time he had the displeasure of seeing you bound up to him, striking up some meaningless small-talk conversation as if you cared about any of the half-assed answers he had for you.
However, that all didn’t deter him from snagging one of the wrapped-up parcels filled with cookies, yanking the tail of the ribbon bow with a clumsy pinch of his fingers to unwind the packet. Surely put out for the whole family, right? Right. So Shane thought at least.
The first bite had Shane scrunching his thick brows, chewing slow and heavy as he mused over the ‘cookie-biscuit-treat-thing’, pinched between his fingers, turned and rotated for inspection.
It was sickeningly sweet, just like you. With a swirl of thick caramel-like ribbons running through the crunchy dough, making him salivate, saliva pooling under his tongue as his jaw gives a dull and quick ache at the flavour. Fuck- It was almost as if it wasn't for human consumption. The thought makes Shane snort as he reaches for another, biting into the treat before washing it all down with an equally tooth-rotting swig of Joja-Cola.
He only meant to sample a few, just a few! Like three.. Okay, maybe four- Or five?
The treats leave a grain of crumbs left on Shane’s fingers, sandy and dry, clinging to his clammy hands until he dusts it off with his thumb, going the extra mile to swipe his hand over the front of his jacket for good measure.
And soon all that is left is the clear cellophane bag and a wrinkled and sad little ribbon you had used to tie it all together. Shit- Whoops, he’d gone and zoned out and ate himself into a stomach ache, mindlessly chewing and crunching down on each sweet treat until he was left with mere crumbs.
Shane sucks on his teeth, tongue running over his molars, absentmindedly swiping up the last remnants of cookie while he bins the evidence and makes way towards his room for the rest of the night. Shane doesn't even bother flicking on his light, kicking his shoes to an unknown corner, lost to the piles of floor-drobe scattered around the ground. He smacks his lips, still sweet with an essence of sugary cookie treats.
The springs in his mattress creak with his weight as he sits, his large paw of a hand grabbing at his tousled duvet, nearly settled in for the evening – Until a heat washes up from his gut.
Shane freezes, eyes blindly flicking to each corner of his room, thoughts swirling through his mind, the twinge of fight or flight raising up his pulse, heart beginning to thrum in his throat. – Something was wrong – Ohh.. Fuck, was he about to be sick?
A hot flush trills through his body, a full shiver starting from his shoulders and all the way down to his toes, treading past his gut in a way that had him panting a few out-of-breath gasps. He sits still, trying to listen to whatever his body was telling him, feeling his blood pressure rise with a thrum against his throat, the instinct to clench and unclench his jaw already in motion. His teeth grit audibly, a bubble in his gut making his brows scrunch tightly together.
He hiccups, more nausea following the jolting breath, something daring to jump up his throat- It bubbles, feels like a lump of something nasty, a fizzling sick that was surely about to come up and make some kind of mess! Shane sighs with an audible crack, his voice tainting the sound in a pitiful near-whine. It comes closer, his body fighting him, sickly hot and nasty- Yoba, he was going to be sick, wasn't he? His hand covers his mouth, body instinctively leaning forwards, bracing for the-!
“Ughh…Buh..” Okay. It was just a burp.
Sure, it relieved some of the pressure in his gut and maybe the nausea had died down but.. He still felt horrible, feverish..
Something else bubbles in the depths of Shane’s gut, rising up into the core of his chest, settling into a heavy ball of agitation, of annoyance and anger placed towards you. You did this, you had practically poisoned him - Maybe it was on purpose? Knew he'd be tempted by a snack sitting right on the table, just asking to be eaten. Yeah. You were in for it-!
Sweat beads down Shane’s forehead, turning uncomfortably crisp and chilly in the cool night air, a hot full-body shiver wracks down his form, the contradicting temperatures churning his stomach into something nauseating. His brow furrows hard, enough to feel the lapping lick of a headache drag over his temple with a throb- He’s surprised he hadn’t popped an artery and collapsed amongst the messy brush of twigs and rocks scraping against his ankles, picking the threads of his socks with each clumsy, agitated step.
The burly man mutters under his breath, a silent string of unintelligible curses and swears, a permanent scrunch woven into his thick brows to top it off.
“Fucks sake..” There's his favourite word, gritted through his teeth as a tree root hooks the toe of his shoe, the rubber soles squeak with apprehension, a kick of the dirt grounding Shane into staying upright. Another growl rolls through his teeth, f-bombs snarled with a crinkle of his nose; Fuck this. Fuck that. Fuck, You-! Yoba, he wishes.
Fucking. What.
Pause.
Shane has to give a physical shake of his head to throw the thought out of his ear, blinking hard a few times over before he properly comes to – When had he stomped up your porch steps and bashed a heavy rasp against your poor door? Somehow, his frown deepens, brows tightening and worsening the headache that budded at his temple, his hand stays stuck in the air in a fist just hovering by the door frame. He lets out a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding, the air feeling wet against his lips, combined with the slick drip of sweat that drops off of the tip of his nose.
He nearly jumps when the door creaks open, letting the light from within bleed into the night, making his eyes squint and blur as you come into vision, peeking your head through the door.
“Sh.. Shane?” Your voice is so fucking soft, caressing his ears, paired with the concerned look on your face; Dolly eyes blinking at him, all filled with worry, and that puppy-like tilt to your head? It has his molars grinding together. “Are you alright..? It’s quite late-”
“No- I’m not ‘alright’-” Shane cuts you off, coming back into the present, his voice stressing against his throat. “You,” He starts, easily barging into your space with heavy steps, his palm pawing at the frame of the door, “Fuck- Y’have it out f’me, dontcha?” He accuses, irritation quickly bubbling back to a rolling boil. Yoba, don’t look at him like that, all frowny-faced, brows knitted into an innocent sense of confusion.
“N-No? I don’t, I-”
“Oh? You don’t, huh? So, what, you go out of your way to fucken’ poison me for no reason then?” His tone rises, headvoice busting through his throat with a growl.
“Poison? Shane, I-I’m lost, I’m sorry-” You carefully reach your hand out to him, tilted carefully as if he were a distressed beast. It sounds alarms in his head, making the feverish wash of shivers all the more worse, as if touching him would send him spiralling.
“Ohohh.. Don’t act all coy and stupid-” Shane avoids your touch and points a finger at you, jamming it into your chest with a mean poke, “You made those cookies,” he heaves, “were practically askin’ me to eat em’, too,” He points back at himself, movements swaying and a little clumsy, “knew I would too, know I’m nothin’ but a-” You cut off the attempt at his self depreciation with a stumble of words.
“C-Cookies?” Shane watches your face contort into some kind of horror; lips parting, mouth opening with a soft gasp, “Shane.. H-How many…” You take a step back, fingers worrying around your mouth, teeth digging into the end of your nails in a nervous bite, a panic setting in to your body language. “How many did you have..?” Shane can barely hear you through your mumbling, that silly way you cover your mouth and the Goddamn thrumming in his ears. Your tone sends something icy through his chest.
“A whole fuckin’ bag?” His pitch raises; you weren't instilling a whole lot of confidence in him. Shane rolls his neck, agitation hot on the edge of his patience. Your reaction was less than stellar for his own mental stability.
“Ah-! Shane.. Those..” You look him over, eyes frantically searching his form, full of worry and.. For Yoba's sake, were you tearing up? Give him a break, he’s not falling for whatever this little act was, the faux sweetness, trying to wrap him around your little fingers, tugging at his heart and causing a thrum of palpitations – Okay, maybe it was working to some effect.
“Uhm.. D-Don’t freak out,” You preface, slow and careful, your face twisted in thought, he could practically see the gears in your brain working overtime to articulate whatever was on your mind. “The ‘cookies’..” You stammer, looking everywhere but him.
“They were for the cows.. For… for b-breeding..?” You say it like you’re unsure, embarrassed to even utter the word.
“Breeding?!” Shane regrets the raise in his voice, the splitting throb in his head protesting his reaction.
“Yes! Yes- I just.. M-Miss Marnie wanted some ‘special treats’ for the cows? T-To help with uhm..” You pause your rambling, tongue trying to wrap around a word that didn't sound downright filthy, “To cultivate them in time for the Valley F-Fair..?” It sounds more like a question, like you were trying to convince yourself of the story. “I swear!”
Shane can’t even respond, staring at you like a dead fish, mouth agape and all of the breath in his lungs sucked out, eye twitching with the semblence of something that said ‘are you fucking kidding me?’
“I should have labelled them better, I-I’m sorry I didn't know I..” You start rambling at him, excuses about Jas, the fact that not everyone was home, that you thought the wrapping would be cute, blah, blahblah, blah blah-
“F’Gods sake, Shut up-” Words come back to Shane, gritted through his teeth with a dull growl, effectively making you snap your jaw shut and obey with a nervous nod. Fuck, a trill of warmth swells in his guts at that, the way you so readily listen to his barks. You shrink under him, more soft mumbles spilling from your lips, “Proper words.” He scolds you, that practiced dad-like tone coming out for just a moment.
“I-I’m sorry.. I-”
“Sorry isn't going to fix this- Fuck..” A dizzy spell knocks Shane into a wobble, his palm coming into contact with a nearby wall to stabilise himself- There was no way he was going to walk his ass home in this condition, not anytime soon at least. “How.. hahh.. How do I stop it?” His cool, sunken eyes glare at you.
“I.. You.. Can’t, really…” You hesitate, teeth nervously picking bites at your bottom lip. “Can.. Manage symptoms, maybe? Y-Yknow..?” You make a few awkward gestures, vulgar enough to get the idea across.
“You’re tellin’ me I gotta jerk off- What? You gonna watch or something? Huh?” He leans harder into the wall, his knees starting to give out underneath him, creaking with a deep ache. It redirects the source of the symptoms, however.. How long had his groin been aching with steady swells of arousal? Feverish hot and cold shivers manifest into something more tingly- Anticipatory excitement agitating his limbs, making them feel oh so restless.
“N-No I.. I’m… Offering..” You ponder off, biting your inner cheek on one side, shrinking into yourself even more, “I wanna help.” Your eyes trail down, lingering on the steady swelling pudge of Shane’s cock outlined in his pants. Fuck- Was this your plan all along? Have him chase you down as part of your little game? Play the helpful little nice girl after you’d fucked his night up? “S’my fault.. Right? I-I should at least.. You know..” So forward, and you can’t even say the proper words.
Fuck.
This was a bad idea, obviously.
That's why he let you guide his clumsy, fever-stricken ass into the living room, settling him into the cushions of the couch, legs spread apart enough to show off the throbby swell of his cock straining hard against the front of his shorts. Obviously. He watches your eyes widen a smidge when it dares to flex, hot and aching with the press of fabric, the seam line of his pants digging right into the swollen tip of his dick, making Shane hiss a wiry swear through his teeth.
He lulls his head to the side, clumsily leaning into the back of the couch, eyes dull and lazy as they look down at you, watching you kneel between his spread knees. Your fingers carefully trace the threads that made up the edge of his pants, tentative and seemingly weary, eyes looking up, all clueless and puppy-like, hesitant to make the first move.
“Fuck y’lookin at..” Shane’s grudge resurfaces, words slurred as another ache throbs in his brain. He nearly feels a pang of guilt at the way you snap your gaze downwards, nearly. His cock gives another throb instead, visibly flexing beneath the fabric like a taunt, the barest itch of fabric friction earning the room a sigh-laced groan.
“Y-You..?” God. You think you’re cute, acting all nervy and worried like this, cowering under his blurred, less-than-sober gaze. Shane has to swallow down another bark of insults, his thick fingers struggling to fumble with his fly, thumbing helplessly at the button and zip that confines him. Your hands raise to help, stilling at the pointed and unamused look he hurls at you. This was for him, not for you. He was in charge of what was going down, got it?
Finally, finally- the telltale buzz of his zipper sounds as he frees himself of the horrid confines of his shorts, stomach breathing in relief as his waistband slackens, cock nearly punching through his boxers when he shimmies his pants down just enough.
God- He’d bled weeps of pre-cum through his underwear, the kitschy, worn-out pattern of pizzas tainted with a blobby wet patch. The fabric sheens in the dim warm light of the living room, all but the mark his cock had cried into his pants, wet and matte and visibly sticky- He has to flex his calves when another onslaught dares to cry from his clothed tip.
“Shit..” Shane sniffles, thumbing at the elastic of his boxers, soothing the bite the band left embedded in his skin. His eyes flick to you, nose crinkling when you avoid his gaze, feeling the remnants of sweat on his top lip, all cool and uncomfortable. He wipes his face with his shoulder, giving his head a shake in an attempt at composure, regretting the way it has his vision swamped and swimming. This was stupid, he felt sick. Now, he should haul himself off to the clinic, but something in his body kept him right there, sunken into the comfy seat of the couch, shimmying his cock free with a fumble and a grit to his teeth.
Okay, this was sort of worth it, watching you marvel at his length, standing tall and proud for you- Because of you, yeah, this was on you. He thumbs at the base, feeling through the thickly dark brush of wiry hair that framed his cock, cringing at just how worked up and sweaty he’d gotten on the walk over. To be honest, he almost feels bad or something, but it's short-lived.
He can't contemplate regret with the huff of your nervous breath, how it has him forcing up a hot flex through his cock, the thick vein that tread up to the tip pulsing almost comically- Pornographically, as if he were some actor making chump change for some seedy website, hopped up on viagra or some shit makin’ his dick too big – Well, that wasn’t far off of the current events, honestly.
Fuck you and your stupid sex cookies, making him lose the breath that rasped out of his lungs, aching the joints of his jaw as his teeth grit and grind with a hearty scowl.
The teasing has his guts churning, that nauseating bubble of fever mixed with that sickly sweet essence of arousal- Shane feels bad for the cows and what they’re sure to endure with that other batch of treats sitting and waiting on the counter back at the Ranch. Your little breaths are warm, combating the hot dribble of pre-cum that cries a weepy tear down the thick vein running down the underside of his cock. Your head tilts, lips coming closer, doll eyes looking up at him for some kind of permission, pursing and pouty and so- so, so close-!
Fuckkk.
“Hahh.. Sh-Shit.” He doesn't mean to make such a whimpery, pissy sound, but it's hard not to. That velvet sweet tongue of yours dragging a careful kitten lick up the underside of his rosy cockhead, flattening softly over the tip to lap up the dribbles of arousal leaking from his slit. He paws a hand into the couch cushion, fingers flexing a handful of the material in some attempt to ground himself. Fuck, that shouldn’t have elicited that kind of a reaction. What was he? Some bitchless virgin teenager?
God- but it soothes that pulsing ache in his head.. Both of them- Each and every drag of your wet tongue sends clarity to his brain and a fuzz of arousal to his cock. He lets his head fall back, a careful sigh slowly pushing out of his lungs, brows now knitted in concentration over outright pain and discomfort, focusing on those gentle, rhythmic licks and laps. It annoyed him, just how tentative and gentle you were, practically coddling him through this.. Rut he was going through- Just proving him wrong to a degree. Was a few kisses and licks to his prick making him have second thoughts about you?
“Haghh.. Fuckk-” You rip a groan from his throat, Adam's apple peeking through the stubble that poked his skin with a bob. He feels it, your lips wrapping around his chubby mushroom tip, spitty, warm, silky even, tongue swirling patterns around and around, cheeks hollowing to give a suckle. You hum back at him, soft, breaths huffing from your nose brushing against the length of him while you gift attention to the tip.
Shane peeks an eye down, dick flexing against your tongue at the content little expression on your face – eyes fluttered shut, lips pursed and pouty on his cock, lost in your own little world down there. Ohh, but something itches, an urge to soothe a new feeling, something hot and buzzing, not quite like that sickly wash of fever, something that had his hand itching to touch you..
Thick fingers thread their way into your hair, heavily and clumsily petting at you, coordination still washed from the effect of those fucked up cookies. His knuckles ache to squeeze, to give a pull, wanting to take some charge and be rough with you. The fingers tighten, gripping your hair in a fist, strands taught and pulling on your scalp. You can only glance at him before he pushes his palm down.
Down, down, dowwwn girl. Yeah, that's right, take him right to the back of your throat.
“There ya go.. Haghh.. shh..iiit..” His head drops forward from the couch, neck rolling to a stop, tilted for the best view of you down there.
Just look at’cha. Pretty face smushed into the messy, wiry brush of his base, your fingers grappling a handful each of the fabric of his shorts, nails digging a delicious stinging scratch into his skin through the material- Fuck, you’re even tugging at the hairs on his thighs in your scramble. It stings and it shows with a hiss through his gritted teeth. Shane couldn't care enough, though, not with how sweetly velvet your mouth felt, all softly-silky with spit and drool gagged up from the bullying choke of his tip down your throat. Ohh, how you gargle down on him, those pretty lashes of yours bled wet with tears, sparkling up at him with your strained and fluttered blinks.
His hips roll off of the sofa, up in experimental thrusts, the swollen pudge of his tip pressing wetly to the back of your throat. His hand pushes you down to meet with him, getting a kick each time your nose buries into the musk of his pubes, those lips kissing a ring of bubbly spit around his length. His chest heaves, a burn nestling into his lungs, veins on fire, the thought of your own well-being thrown out the door in favour of using you as a remedy.
It was your fault in the end, right? You’re only doing your part in all of this.
Still, Shane has enough mercy on you to lift you off of him, sloppy, gagged up saliva slurping up his cock with the movement. His thick fingers cup your face, squishing your cheeks together to purse your lips into a pucker, and he inspects you, already feeling that uneasy bubble of artificial arousal pulse to his cock. Your breath stutters a hiccup, a sob seemingly right at the tippity top of your throat, ready to barrel out with a cry. The threat of it has Shane groaning a low sound, tilting his head to admire you, dullen grey-green eyes looking you over, taking it all in..
The spike of that arousal coursing through his veins was surely an aid in his opinions – You were cute like this, sniffly and frowny, lips wobbling between the pinch of his fingers, eyes locked to the flushed up bruisy-rose head of his cock.
His skin pricks with pins and needles, fiery and agitated, only soothed when he plants you back on his length, ignoring the muffled, gargled sound you make at him. You fist against his shorts for comfort, curling into the material of the waistband that pools around his upper thighs, looking all huddled up and cute on his cock.
“Relax- Oi.. That’s it- C’mon, fuckk..” He massages his free hand around your chin, fingers cupping your jaw, making you go nice and slack, knuckles brushing a delicate – a Shane level of delicate, at least – brush against your throat, opening you up all nice and easy for his bullying cock.
Perception blurs, hot lust and a clouded shadow of arousal takes over Shane’s mind, that sickly sweet and sticky feeling in his body transforming into something alive and buzzing, needing more- more and more.. Sharp pangs of arousal replaces the fever, lethargic bones and joints now twitchy and on fire, guts twisting with the build-up of an orgasm rather than the swirl of anger and nausea.
Oh, he feels it, fuck- the taught squeeze of his balls, constricting with a flex when he comes to his peak, the plump and rosy tip of his dick lodged nice and deep down your throat, feeling that tongue massage over the underside. He spurts his first round, hot and thick, cumming hard with rolling thrusts of his hips until he pushes you down with a heavy palm. The gags and sputtering only urge him on, milking up a healthy cum-shot just for you.
He groans when you come up for air, messily coughing and gagging up a sputtery, spitty mix of cum and saliva, wet tears streaming down your cheeks, a sniffle to your nose adding to the vision. You make a show of swallowing, covering your mouth just like earlier, hiccuping the barest hint of a cry behind your hand. You look up at him, eyes watery, hair a mess, nose snotty, and what do you see? Well, Shane’s already pulling off another gush of cum, busting a load over his thick knuckles as he fists his cock at the sight of you, tip flexing angrily with dribbles of milky white.
Why stop there, right? Not like he could regardless.. Fuck… Good thing you were so helpful to help him out in such a predicament, right?
Right.
So generous, maybe you truly were the sweet and doting little farmer everyone said you were, look at you now – Split in half, taking cock on the floor of your living room, legs folded to your ears while Shane’s heavy weight presses you into the run below. Your clothes are gone, so are his, long forgotten between Yoba knows how many rounds between you.
Your supple cunt weeps his cum, a filthy ring of cream bubbling around his base, sticking into the brush of his pubes, leaking down his heavy balls, making them all sticky as they clap against you with each and every thrust. You’re practically non-verbal at this point, whimpering little noises, hiccups of something soft and sweet. You cling to him, arms clumsily locked around his sweaty neck, nails digging a scratch each time Shane rolls his hips a certain way.
He mounts your cunt, stuffing you up with the thick of his cock, his skin sticking to yours, thick tummy and strong thighs giving a slight wobble every time his hips smack into yours. He’s practically in your stomach, fucked into your guts, spattered at least two- or what it three.. Thick loads into you already. What a champ you were, helping him out like this, after tormenting him for so long, for practically drugging him into an endless plane of arousal. Can’t stop, won’t stop- Not when your cunt sucks him in like this, not when you do more than just lay there and look pretty- around after round and you’re still craning those hips, digging your heels into his back, peppering desperate kisses against the scruff of his soft jaw.
Ohhh fuck.. He’s close again.
Shane groans loud, manhandling you in place, bending you in a way he could only previously imagine, eyes rolling to the back of his skull when you desperately hold your own legs all steady for him. So sweet and generous, might give you something for it all too-
His thick thumb plays with your clit, rubbing rough circles into the poor, puffy and overstimulated little bud, all wet and slippery with cum and slick. His thrusts grow rough and heavy, the full weight of his body practically crushing you into the floor, punching you in the guts with his cock. Shane watches your tits jump with each fuck, the plaps of his hips cutting up for breaths into cute little stacattos, endless hiccups, messy sniffles, bleary eyes that can barely properly look at him.
“Hmmm fuckkk.. M’gonna cum again y’know- wan’ more? Hmnn?” Shane slurs, licking at his lips, catching drool with a messy slurp. You respond with a sniffly, wobbly ‘yes’ of your own, petting a hand into the grown-out undercut that curls at his neck. His free hand grips your shoulder, pulling you down on his cock, the other paying that very special attention to your clit, pinching, rubbing, massaging, working you into your own nth orgasm of the evening.
Your pussy gurgles with cum, all lubed and suckling on his cock, coming closer and closer, tightening up on his length, a squeezy kiss of your cunt to his base-! Shane digs deep and grinds, rubbing his pelvis into your clit, hot friction tipping you over, both of his hands now pulling you into him. You tug his hair, he sinks his teeth into your neck, groans and cries synchronise as Shane floods you with more of his cum, adding to the sloshy mess he’d dumped into you already. It spurts hot and heavy, rope after rope, fuck, it feels impossible to hold this much cum. His balls ache and twitch, tip all swollen and surely a bruisy purple by now, but Yoba, how could he care? Especially now.
You squeeze around him, pushed to the edge as he fucks himself through it all, quivering around his pulsy cock, toes curling, throat hoarse with whimpery rambles, babbling nonsense about cumming for him, all for him! Ohh, it's wet, it's messy, adding to the stickiness that drips between his thighs and smears onto your skin, has Shane’s cock pulsing for more, despite the protest in his arms and the dull aching in his back.
2nd prompt for this week! I do really hope you enjoyed, I had so much fun writing this! This wip has been sitting for quite a while, I'm really happy to have it done. Sort of a leftover wip from a request earlier this year before my hiatus :>
I've never posted a mean Shane fic so that's exciting!! I think I like how he turned out~ lmk what you think hehe
having pet stick bugs is fun because every so often i will hear the distinct sound of several stick bug falling and ill go to check on them and find them all in a pile on the ground of their enclosure and i have to figure out if theyve just decided that its floor time now or if they kept mistaking each other for actual sticks again and bundled together the ceiling until gravity got the best of them.
cw for somno and dubcon (and implied pseudocest bc caleb)
sharing a bed with caleb and you happen to wake up before him. you take the opportunity to study his face (not like you don't already have every little detail memorized) and the slope of his neck and his broad shoulders. your hand rests over his heart, feeling the steady beat that your own is mirroring.
you should be content with this quiet moment. but you're not. you've always been curious about what you aren't allowed to see. and when your hand trails down his chest, feeling the firm muscle underneath his thin shirt, excitement begins to flood your veins.
morning wood. exactly what you were hoping for. it's wrong — not only because he's asleep and you're taking advantage of him in this vulnerable state, but also because he's like a brother to you. but you really, really want to know.
your fingers are featherlight as you gently brush them along the bulge, your eyes constantly flickering between his crotch and his expression, watching for any sign of him stirring. even with just this, you can tell that he's big. you had a hunch based off other times you've been able to sneak glances and when he's worn those gray sweats that make him unfairly attractive. his dick print always looked impressive.
carefully, you pull down the waistband of his pants, your heart pounding in your chest when caleb groans softly. still asleep. guilt swirls in your stomach and you know you should stop but you're too close to do anything other than continue.
after what feels like an eternity, you manage to shimmy his pants down enough for his heavy cock to be freed. it twitches under your gaze, still semi soft and absolutely mouth watering. your mind immediately begins to wonder how it would feel on your tongue. what it would taste like, the sounds caleb would make as you take more and more of his length down your throat, if you would even be able to get it all in your mouth.
with another glance to his peaceful expression to ensure he didn't wake up, your fingertips graze along his velvety soft shaft. he reacts beautifully — eyebrows furrowing slightly, hips jerking forward as if chasing your touch, and lips parting to take in a shaky breath. it's a sight and experience that you could easily get addicted to.
your touches get bolder, driven by a deep seated desire and hunger. your thumb swipes over his slit, gathering a small drop of precum before you gently swirl it on his tip, testing how far you can go.
you know you're playing with fire, every touch adding fuel to the flame that threatens to burn you alive. so when caleb groans softly, his dick twitching under your hand, you decide to stop pressing your luck.
caleb hides his disappointment as you carefully tuck him back into his pants, eyes staying closed and hoping his heartbeat will slow down before you realize just how fast it's racing from your curiosity.