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lana bear | she/her | ⭐️ 🍎| 22

[cherryscript]

valko is painfully clingy.

He might be the big bad wolf to the rest of the world, but with you he is the neediest, most shamelessly attached creature to ever exist. You want to be annoyed. You really do. And yet every single one of his habits somehow turns soft and golden in your chest until you’re melting all over again.

You’ll be sleeping on your back, dead to the world, when a huge arm suddenly slides between your thighs and scoops you backward in one smooth motion. You wake with a startled gasp—“Valko—”…—only to feel him already nuzzling the top of your head like an oversized dog who has finally found his favourite pillow. He hums low in his throat, still mostly asleep, and tightens his hold until you’re pressed flush against the furnace of his chest. His tail drapes heavily over both of you, a living blanket that refuses to let you drift even an inch away.

You’ll step out of the shower smelling like the new strawberry body wash you bought, and the second he catches the scent his whole face falls into a dramatic sulk. “Valko—” He huffs, crowds you from behind, and wraps those thick arms around your waist. A long, deliberate lick drags up the side of your neck. You flinch; he only presses closer, voice rough with quiet displeasure.

“You smell like strawberry and I don’t like that.” His teeth graze your pulse point, a gentle warning bite that makes your breath hitch. He stays there a moment, inhaling deeply, then sighs in pure satisfaction. “Mmhh… there. Smell like me again.” He pulls back with a bright, smug smile and walks away, tail wagging so hard it nearly knocks over the bathroom stool.

You’ll be cooking dinner, focused on the pan, when he materialises behind you without a sound. One second the kitchen is empty; the next his chest is warm against your back and his chin is heavy on your shoulder. He doesn’t ask. He just stays there, breathing you in, occasionally nosing under your jaw like he’s checking that you haven’t somehow slipped out of his orbit in the last three minutes. When you try to reach for the salt he simply tightens his arms and carries you two steps to the left so he doesn’t have to let go.

You’ll sit on the couch to answer a message and suddenly the entire sofa dips under his weight. Valko drapes himself over your lap like a living weighted blanket, head in the crook of your neck, one massive hand spanning your thigh. If you shift even slightly he makes a low, wounded sound and nuzzles harder until you give up and card your fingers through his hair. Only then does the unhappy rumble fade into contented silence.

You’ll try to leave the bed in the morning and his arm becomes an iron bar across your waist. Eyes still closed, he pulls you back under the covers, tucks your face against his throat, and murmurs, voice sleep-rough and utterly unapologetic,“Five more minutes… stays with me.” His tail curls around your calf like a soft, insistent chain. You know those five minutes will stretch into twenty, and somehow you never mind.

You’ll be reading on the floor and he’ll simply drop down beside you, roll onto his side, and drag you half on top of him so your head rests over his heart. Every time you turn a page he presses a lazy kiss to your hair, as if reminding the book that it is only borrowing you for a little while.

And every single time—when he steals you from sleep, when he rewrites your scent, when he refuses to let even a foot of space exist between you—you feel that same helpless, fond ache bloom behind your ribs.

He’s the big bad wolf. He’s also the clingiest, softest, most ridiculously devoted thing you’ve ever known. And somehow that combination is completely, devastatingly yours.

a/n : hello, it's been a while sobs i stand with my cancelled husband.

© CHERRYSCRIPT 2026 — don't copy translate feed my work to ai.

[chaacoonnee]

✩ thin ice

“Your big brother won't touch you...but he can touch me. Can’t you, Caleb?” “...Yes.” “And I can touch her. Can’t I, kitten?” “Yes.” “Then look at that...look at how convenient that is.”

synopsis: your boyfriend is a hockey star. your brother is his rival. you’re tired of playing referee between them—until sylus decides he wants to be the one in the middle.

wc: 8.8k | ao3

tags: explicit sexual content, pseudocest, proxyfucking, kissing, dry humping, cunnilingus, spit as lube, voyeurism, vaginal intercourse, missionary, creampie, aftercare

a/n: help, i’ve fallen for gegecest-enabler sylus "just the tip" qin and i can’t get up……..

“You’re dripping.”

Caleb cracks one eye open. The bag of frozen peas you set at his neck fifteen minutes ago has gone soft, condensation tracking down his throat and disappearing into the collar of his henley.

“I’ll get him a new couch.”

You cross your arms and raise a brow. “With what money.”

“He can add it to my tab. Right under the chiropractor bill.”

“Careful with the tab, captain,” Sylus warns drily. “I’m very creative about collecting, and I’m starting to think you enjoy owing me.”

Caleb chucks a pillow across the room. Sylus catches it without flinching and tucks under his arm like he won it fair.

“You boys—” you look between Sylus, settled into his armchair like a throne, and Caleb, sprawled on the couch “—are going to play nice.”

“We’re behaving,” Sylus says.

“Barely,” Caleb adds.

Sylus shrugs. “Barely counts.”

They’ve been like this since tonight’s game. Before the game, actually. Since the first time they met on the ice two seasons ago, since something sparked between them the first time your brother knocked your boyfriend flat on his ass only for the silver-haired menace to come up smiling.

Tonight’s third period had been ugly. Caleb’s team down two, Sylus’s team running clock, and somewhere around the seven minute mark Caleb had taken Sylus into the boards in a way that could have looked accidental from the cheap seats and looked extremely on purpose from the bench. Sylus answered with his fists. The refs let them go for longer than they should have. Both were ejected, and you’d watched them get walked off in opposite directions like dogs separated mid-fight while five thousand people screamed.

You’d had the idea on the walk back to your dorm. Stupid. Catastrophically stupid.

Come over, you’d texted Caleb. Sylus’s place.

Three bouncing dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again. He’d called you instead.

“You’re out of your mind, pips.”

“Probably.”

“Meimei.”

“Gege.”

He released a long, suffering breath. “Why?”

“Because I love you and I love him and I’m so tired of being caught in the middle like this.”

“He gave me a split lip.”

“You gave him a bloody nose.”

“And you think this is a fix?”

“I think it’s a try.”

He showed up an hour later, of course. You’d never asked Caleb for something he didn’t give you.

“How’s the nose,” Caleb says without opening his eyes.

Sylus touches the bridge of his nose, more out of habit than concern. “Fine.”

“Shame. Could’ve sworn I did more damage.”

“You always did overestimate your impact.”

“Overestimate?” Caleb’s eyes finally open. “I’ll overestimate my fist up your—”

“Okay!” you interrupt, lifting both hands in surrender. “New rule.”

“This should be good,” Sylus says under his breath.

“Each of you has to say one nice thing about the other,” you announce. “One. Single. Nice. Thing. And then we can move on with our evening like adults.”

“I am being an adult,” Sylus counters. “I haven’t poisoned his drink.”

You scoff. “That’s baseline human decency.”

“For me, sweetie, it’s generous.”

Caleb snorts. It’s the first sound he’s made in Sylus’s direction that isn’t hostile, and you watch Sylus clock it with a small flicker at his eyebrow.

“Caleb,” you say. “You first.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re in his apartment drinking his whiskey and bleeding on his furniture, and I think that earns him a compliment.”

Caleb stares at the ceiling for a long second, jaw working, like you’ve asked him to move a mountain with his bare hands.

“He’s fast,” Caleb says, finally.

“Fast,” you repeat.

“On the ice. He’s fast. Faster than he should be for his size.” Caleb pauses. “It’s annoying. Like a cockroach.”

“That’s not exactly a compliment.”

“It’s adjacent.”

You look at Sylus. “Your turn.”

Sylus takes a sip of whiskey, holding it in his mouth for a moment as he turns over his options. He swallows and tilts his glass toward Caleb.

“He doesn’t quit.”

Caleb glances over.

“Down two,” Sylus says. “Most players know when they’re beaten. He apparently lacks that particular survival instinct. Played the last seven minutes like he could bully the scoreboard into changing.” He takes another sip. “It was irritating.”

“So we’ve established you’re both fast and stubborn and you hate each other for it,” you say. “Wonderful. Truly groundbreaking diplomacy.”

“You asked for one nice thing,” Sylus says, swirling his glass. “That was one nice thing.”

“That was one nice thing wrapped in three mean ones.”

“What can I say? I’m efficient.”

“You’re efficiently a prick,” Caleb fires back.

“Mm,” Sylus hums, entirely unbothered. “Is that what you say when you don’t have a comeback, or is that what you say when your sister’s watching and you want her to think you’re tough?”

Caleb sits up. Drains his whiskey in one go, sets the glass on the table, and lets the bag of peas slide from his neck and thud to the floor.

“Watch it, pretty boy,” he says, eyes narrowed.

“It’s a genuine question. Because you do the same thing on the ice. All those big hits, the scrapping, mouthing off at the refs. It’s very impressive. Very masculine. Especially when she’s sitting third row.” Sylus tilts his chin toward you without taking his eyes off your brother. “Must be exhausting, carrying a crush that obvious for that long. I’m surprised she hasn’t said something.”

“Shut your mouth.”

“She’s a kind girl. Probably doesn’t want to embarrass you.”

“I said shut your mouth.”

“Or maybe she likes it. Having her big brother panting after her like a dog at the door every time she—”

“That’s enough!” you yell.

Both sets of eyes snap to you. You’re not one to raise your voice, and they both know it. You don’t know what you’re going to say next until you’re already saying it, and by then it’s too late:

“If you can’t talk it out, maybe you should just kiss and make up.”

You know it sounds wrong the second it leaves your mouth. You’re tired and tipsy and your brother and your boyfriend are having a conversation about you like you’re not in the room, and all you wanted was for them to stop, and what resulted was the dumbest sentence you’ve said in your entire life.

You try to chase it with a laugh that doesn’t quite land. The room doesn’t laugh with you.

You scramble to walk it back. “Kidding. Obviously. God, your faces. I’m going to get more ice—”

Sylus sets his glass down. The sound of crystal on marble is small, though it lands like a gavel.

“Interesting,” Sylus says.

“I was joking,” you reply, too fast.

“Were you.”

“Yes.”

“Hm.”

Sylus rises from the armchair, crossing to the couch in three steps. He holds out a hand to Caleb.

“What the hell are you doing?” Caleb asks.

“She asked us to make up,” Sylus says simply. “I’m making up. Stand up, captain.”

“You’re out of your goddamned mind.”

“She’s been mediating between us all night, and she’s running out of patience.” Sylus’s hand is still extended, patient and unmoving. “Your poor sister has spent two years trying to keep us from killing each other. The least we can do is give her what she wants for a few seconds.”

Caleb tries to look unbothered, but you catch this jaw tightening at your poor sister. ”She was being sarcastic.”

“Was she?” Sylus glances at you over his shoulder. “Sweetie. Were you being sarcastic?”

You should say yes. You should laugh it off and go get more ice and let the night fade into something survivable.

You just can’t seem to make yourself do anything at all.

Sylus turns back to Caleb, eyebrow raised. See?

“Fine,” Caleb says. “Fine. One kiss.”

He doesn’t take Sylus’s hand. He stands up on his own, because of course he does, and squares up in front of Sylus with his shoulders braced like he’s about to take a penalty shot.

“One kiss,” Caleb repeats.

“One kiss,” Sylus agrees.

Sylus cups the side of Caleb’s face, thumb settling by the butterfly bandage at his brow. Caleb swallows hard, but doesn’t pull away.

“Relax, sweetheart,” Sylus teases. “It’s a kiss. We’ve gotten more physical over a little black puck.”

Caleb’s hands curl into fists at his sides, his face carefully impassive. “Get on with it, pretty boy.”

Sylus leans in and kisses him.

It starts as nothing. A closed-mouth press, chaste, just sufficient enough to satisfy your request. Sylus’s hand stays at Caleb’s jaw. Caleb’s hands stay at his sides. It’s two men doing something for the benefit of a third person they both care deeply about, and nothing more than that.

Then Caleb’s mouth moves.

It’s the smallest shift—his lower lip catches against Sylus’s, and you watch Sylus notice it—tilting his head to change the angle, transforming the kiss from nothing to everything in the span of a heartbeat.

Caleb’s hand comes up to Sylus’s collar, fisting the cotton there. Not pulling, just holding, his split knuckles going white behind their tape. Sylus makes a small sound, approval or surprise or both. His hand slides from Caleb’s jaw to the back of his neck and he deepens the kiss, mouth opening against Caleb’s slowly, like he’s afraid to startle him, afraid for the moment to vanish, and Caleb lets him.

The kiss isn’t for you anymore.

You can see the exact moment it stops being a performance and starts being something private. Caleb’s other hand comes up, both fists in Sylus’s shirt now. Sylus’s fingers curl into the hair at Caleb’s nape, tugging gently. The sounds shared between them are wet and obscene and utterly, nakedly honest.

Your hands are in your own lap, fingers laced tightly together. You’re watching your boyfriend kiss your brother and the thing you're feeling isn't jealousy or shock or any of the things you are supposed to feel. What you feel instead is heat pooling low, the kind that makes you press your thighs together and the friction of your jeans agonizing.

Sylus pulls back first, turning his head just enough to look at you. His eyes scan yours, drop to your lap, then return to your face. His mouth tilts, and he’s beside you on the couch in three strides.

Caleb stands frozen in place, mouth still slightly open.

Sylus pats the empty space beside him. “Sit down, captain.”

Caleb sits.

Sylus settles between you, one arm stretched across the back behind your shoulders, the other behind Caleb’s.

“Well,” Sylus says to no one in particular. “That was overdue.”

Caleb is staring at the muted TV, jaw working, suddenly captivated by what might be the least consequential Division III basketball game of all time. His lip is bleeding again, the split reopened from the kiss, but he makes no move to wipe it clean.

“Caleb,” you say.

“Don’t.”

“Your lip—”

“I know.”

“It’s bleeding again.”

“I know, pips.”

Sylus reaches over and swipes his thumb across the corner of Caleb’s mouth, catching the blood. Caleb flinches but doesn’t pull away. Sylus studies his thumb for a second, then wipes it on his own jeans, satisfied.

“Good kisser, by the way,” Sylus says lightly. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

Caleb closes his eyes.

“Very direct. Bit aggressive. Holds on like he’s afraid you’ll leave.” Sylus glances your way. “You should try it, sweetie.”

Whatever lust-drunk haze you were in is sliced clean through by the implication, cold and brutally sobering.

“Try what,” you murmur.

“Kissing him,” Sylus clarifies. “You should try it. I think you’d like it.”

Heat floods your face. “Sylus.”

“Hm?”

“You know we can’t—that he’s—” you gesture vaguely between yourself and Caleb, then toward Sylus. “—and we’re—”

“Why not? Because we’re dating?” Sylus asks, sounding genuinely curious. “Or because he’s your brother?”

Your stomach falls through the floor.

Because you thought you’d hidden it. You’ve been so goddamn careful—with your eyes, your hands, the way you angle your body when Caleb sits too close and the way you laugh at his jokes exactly as long as a friend would and not one second longer. And Sylus just picked up everything you’ve been hiding and set it on the coffee table between the three of you, and now you’re all staring straight at it, and there’s no putting it back.

“Both,” you say. “Obviously both.”

“What if it’s neither,” Sylus says, holding both of you in the loose parentheses of his arms, as if he doesn’t find any of this complicated at all. ”What if the problem is that you’ve both wanted each other for so long you’ve turned it into something you’re not allowed to have, and the not-being-allowed has gotten so big you can’t see past it anymore.”

Caleb is staring blankly at the TV again. His throat works around his response.

“She’s your girlfriend, Sylus.”

“She is.”

“And I’m her—”

“You’re her brother. Yes. You’re also in love with her. We all know this. We’ve known it all night. We knew it long before tonight.” Sylus inspects his nails, nonchalant. “So let’s stop building the case and move to the verdict, shall we?”

“Sylus,” you whisper.

“Sweetie. Look at me.” You do. He’s giving you the look he gives when he wants your full attention, a look he doesn’t use often and one you’ve never been able to refuse. “Listen to me. Both of you. I’m going to say something, and I’m going to say it once, and after I say it neither of you gets to pretend you didn’t hear.”

You nod. So does Caleb, in sync, and you watch the small flicker pass across Sylus’s eyes that means he noticed.

“Your big brother won’t touch you,” Sylus says to you. “You know that. I know that. He knows that. He’s spent—how long, Caleb?”

Caleb blinks up at the ceiling.

“How long,” Sylus insists.

“Since I was thirteen.”

“Since he was thirteen. All those years deciding he’s not going to touch you. He’s not going to undo that tonight. Not for me. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

Your heart beats so heavily you’re certain the whole room can hear it.

“But,” Sylus continues. His arm tightens behind your shoulders. His other arm tightens behind Caleb’s. “He can touch me. Can’t you, Caleb?”

“...Yes.”

“And I can touch her. Can’t I, kitten?”

“Yes.”

“Then look at that. Look at how convenient that is.”

Caleb leans out of Sylus’s reach, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “Did I knock something loose up there, Qin? Lay into you a little too hard tonight?”

“Not nearly hard enough.” Sylus smirks, the amusement fading into something more focused. “Nobody touches anybody they’re not supposed to touch tonight. Everybody goes home having had exactly the experience they pretend they didn’t want.”

“That’s a nice speech. You rehearse that in the penalty box?”

“I had five minutes. Figured I’d make good use of them.”

“You’re delusional.”

“And you’re still here.”

That lands. You see it hit in the way Caleb’s mouth opens and stays there, the argument dying in his throat. Because he could leave. The door is right there. He has a car. A phone. Yet he’s sitting under Sylus’s arm and hasn’t taken a single step toward any of them.

Sylus sees it, too.

He reaches up and catches Caleb’s jaw, thumb finding the split in his lower lip, and presses into it. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to feel.

Caleb hisses through his teeth. His hand wraps around Sylus’s wrist but doesn’t pull it away.

“Unless,” Sylus says, his thumb resting in the seam of Caleb’s mouth, “you’d rather go back to arguing about hockey.”

Caleb doesn’t argue. He doesn’t say yes, or nod, or do anything at all except sit there with Sylus’s thumb against his lip and his hand around Sylus’s wrist and his chest rising and falling faster than it ever has on the ice.

That’s enough for Sylus.

He tilts Caleb’s jaw down and kisses him, tongue working in slow and unhurried strokes, like he has the whole night and intends to use every second of it. His thumb slides to the hinge of Caleb’s jaw and rests there. His other hand stays on your shoulder, keeping you close. Keeping you watching. A warm, heavy, point of contact that says stay and watch this and you are not going to look away from what I’m doing to your brother’s mouth.

Caleb’s hand finds the back of Sylus’s neck, and you inhale sharply.

Sylus pulls back at your gasp. His hand leaves Caleb’s jaw and finds yours with the same grip, thumb at the corner of your mouth, fingers curving under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. His eyes scan yours, and something in his expression comes alive and hungry.

“Open, sweetie.”

He kisses you, and it’s a kiss you know. The shape of his mouth, the pace, the pressure of his tongue against yours. You’ve kissed this man so many times you could map it blindfolded.

But there’s something in his mouth that isn’t his.

It takes you a second to place it, a warmth that doesn’t belong to Sylus. A faint copper edge that blooms on your tongue when his presses against it. The blood of a split lip. Caleb’s, carried on your boyfriend’s tongue, delivered to yours with each stroke. You whimper against his mouth, and feel Sylus smile into the kiss—a small, satisfied flex that says his hypothesis just proved correct.

“There,” he says quietly, pressing a parting kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Now you’ve had him, too.”

On the couch behind him, Caleb’s eyes are focused on your face—specifically on your mouth, more specifically on the place where his blood is still sitting on your lower lip and you haven’t wiped it off.

“Now,” Sylus says, turning back to Caleb. “Your turn, captain.”

Caleb opens his mouth and Sylus kisses him, tongue sweeping wet and slow and thorough. Caleb’s teeth close around Sylus’s bottom lip and hold, pulling, tasting the sweetness that’s sitting on Sylus’s lip from yours. The bite pulls a low sound from Sylus’s throat, his eyelids fluttering at the pressure, and Caleb doesn’t let go. If anything he sucks harder, desperately chasing your mouth the only way he’s allowed to. 

Sylus finally pulls back with noticeable effort, running his tongue over his own lip where its newly swollen.

“Well?” Sylus asks, amused and knowing. “Could you taste her?”

“Apple.” Caleb swallows. “Green apple.”

The words hit you hard and low. Your Chapstick. The one he’s bought for you in bulk since you were in middle school and keeps in his glovebox because you always lose yours. The one he tosses into your lap without comment every time you get in his car, the one you reapplied before walking into this apartment.

“Yeah,” Caleb says, rougher. “Yeah, I could taste her.”

Sylus’s mouth curves. “Good.”

“Again,” Caleb says to Sylus, not asking. “Kiss her again.”

Sylus obliges. He turns to you and claims your lips, longer, dirtier, a thin strand of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away. He turns to Caleb, who catches it with his mouth before Sylus finishes turning, desperate and graceless and nothing like the controlled athlete who commanded the ice earlier tonight. Caleb’s hand comes up to the back of Sylus’s head and holds him there, kissing him harder, letting Sylus feed him the taste of you, only pulling apart when his lungs burn for air.

“More,” Caleb groans.

Sylus huffs a laugh. “Greedy.”

“More, Sylus.”

The rhythm turns hypnotic. Sylus kisses Caleb, turns, kisses you. Kisses you, turns, kisses Caleb. Each pass filthier than the last, a little more urgent, carrying more of your brother to you—not just his taste but his small, wet sounds, his shallow breaths, the barely-held-back noises he keeps making against Sylus’s tongue that Sylus carries to you like gifts.

You don’t know how you end up pressed together.

Caleb’s thigh is flush against Sylus’s, their shoulders overlapping. You’ve managed to end up in your boyfriend’s lap, straddling his hips. And Sylus keeps one hand on each of you the entire time, one at your hip now, the other on Caleb’s bicep.

You lean in after one of the passes and catch Sylus’s mouth before he’s fully turned away from Caleb, the kiss off-center and messy, and you taste Caleb so strongly that your hips buck against Sylus’s.

Sylus laughs. He gives your ass a teasing smack.

“Bedroom,” he says.

Caleb pulls back, eyes widening. “Sylus—”

“We’re moving this to the bedroom. This couch costs more than your car, and your sister’s about to ruin it.”

You frown. “I am not—”

“Sweetie, your hand is on his belt.”

You look down. Your hand is, in fact, on Caleb’s belt.

Not through Sylus, just—your hand, on Caleb’s belt buckle, fingers curled around the leather, and you don’t remember putting it there and you don’t remember Sylus guiding it, and you’re dangerously close to not remembering why this whole thing was ever a bad idea in the first place.

You pull your hand away like it’s been burned.

“Bedroom,” Sylus repeats, an order rather than suggestion. He stands, bringing you with him, your legs wrapped around his waist. He eyes Caleb and tips his head toward the hallway. “Now.”

Nobody argues.

Sylus’s bedroom is all dark wood and low light, with a bed that takes up most of the space. It’s a mattress you’ve been on a hundred times. You know how the sheets feel bunched in your fists, how the pillow positions your hips at just the right angle when he puts it under your stomach, how the comforter feels around your shoulders when he tucks you in with a kiss to your temple.

You have no idea how different it’ll feel with three people on top of it.

Sylus deposits you in the middle of the bed before crossing to his nightstand. 

“Caleb,” Sylus says. He turns the lamp down another notch. “In or out. I won’t ask twice.”

You watch your brother from the doorway, his gaze flicking to and away from you, like the sight of you—leaning back on your elbows, lips kiss-swollen, hair a little mussed, eyes alive and wanting—is too much to bear.

He steps in, locking the door behind him with a loud click. “I’m doing this for her.”

“Of course you are,” Sylus says.

“I mean it, Sylus. This isn’t—I’m not here for you.”

“Nobody asked you to be.”

“Good.”

“Good.” Sylus reaches behind his neck, pulling his shirt up and over his head. “Clothes. Off. Both of you.”   

“All of them?” Caleb asks, still lingering by the door.

Sylus drapes his shirt over the back of his desk chair. “Leave the underwear. We’re not animals.”

“Debatable,” you mutter, and Sylus’s mouth twitches.

The three of you strip in silence, shirts tossed aside, all three pairs of jeans hitting the floor at different speeds— Sylus’s first, folded; yours next, kicked off the edge of the bed; Caleb’s last, shoved down and stepped out of.

You’ve seen your brother shirtless—at the beach, after a shower, when he mows the lawn in the dead of August. What you haven’t seen is your brother in gray boxer briefs that do nothing to hide the way his erection strains against the fabric, tight enough that you can tell where the head of his cock meets the shaft, that you can see the darkened spot at the tip where precum bleeds through.

Caleb catches you staring, eyes finding yours and holding them until you’re the one that breaks. Your cheeks burn violently, fingers fumbling with your bra clasp like you’ve forgotten how it works.

“Eyes up, captain,” Sylus warns, moving to the foot of the bed. “She’ll still be there in a minute.”

“You going to coach me through this like it’s a power play?” Caleb grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“If that’s what it takes. You never could finish without a setup.”

“I have fourteen goals this season.”

“And how many assists?”

Caleb's mouth opens and shuts.

“...Shut up.”

Sylus huffs out a laugh. He pulls you to the edge of the mattress by your ankles, and you yelp.

“I’m going to tell you where to look all night, sweetheart. Get used to it,” he says to Caleb before turning his attention back to you. “Lie back, kitten.”

You settle back. Sylus stands between your legs, one hand braced beside your head, and for a moment it’s just the two of you. He kisses your throat, your collarbone, mouth moving down the center of your chest slow and warm. His free hand finds your waist and holds there, thumb tracing the skin above the waistband of your underwear.

“Caleb,” Sylus says against your skin. “Behind me.”

“I’m not cuddling you, Sylus.”

“Nobody’s cuddling anybody. Get behind me. Hands on mine.”

“This isn’t—”

“For her, captain. You’re doing this for her. Remember?”

Caleb positions his knees on either side of Sylus’s calves, chest close to Sylus’s back but not quite touching. He braces one hand on the mattress, the other settling over Sylus’s at your waist, lining up finger over finger, his broader palm bracketing Sylus’s against your hip. The added weight presses Sylus’s grip firmer into your skin, and you arch up into it.

“There,” Sylus says. “Feel her through me. When I move, you move. Yes?”

Caleb’s voice is barely there. “Yes.”

Sylus’s thumb traces up the curve of your waist. Caleb’s follows—riding the back of Sylus’s hand, tracking every motion. Sylus’s hand slides to your ribs, and Caleb’s follows, up and around. Sylus’s fingertips graze the underside of your breast and you gasp, and Caleb’s knuckle catches the edge of your skin where Sylus’s hand doesn’t fully cover.

Caleb freezes.

“I didn’t—I—”

“Caleb…” you whisper.

You look up at Sylus, but he doesn’t intervene. He watches your face from above, letting you be the one who tells Caleb what’s allowed.

“It’s okay, gege,” you decide. “You don’t have to stop.”

Caleb’s hand unfreezes. His fingers resettle over Sylus’s, and they keep moving.

The next touch isn’t an accident.

It’s the back of his ring finger, tracing a line along your ribs that Sylus’s hand doesn’t cover. A quarter-inch of contact, gone, then back—his pinky, grazing the curve of your waist as Sylus’s hand slides lower, gone just as fast. Ghost touches, so minimal you could pretend they didn’t happen. Caleb finding the gaps and pressing into them, testing, learning you through the spaces between your boyfriend’s fingers.

“Sylus,” you whisper.

“I see it, sweetie.”

“Is he—”

“He’s being creative.” Sylus’s mouth lifts. He shifts his hands enough to widen the gaps between his fingers by a fraction, adjusting his grip to give Caleb more room. “I’m allowing it.”

Caleb presses closer behind Sylus. His chest makes contact with Sylus’s back, and the added weight pushes Sylus’s body down against yours.

“Caleb,” Sylus says, in warning and permission at the same time.

“I know.”

“You’re on top of me.”

“I know. That doesn’t mean I like you.”

“You liked me just fine on the couch.”

“That was—that was the situation. That was for—”

“For her. Yes. You’ve mentioned.”

Sylus lowers his mouth to your breast. His tongue traces the curve, teeth teasing your nipple, and you arch up into him. The motion presses your hips against his, and Sylus’s hips press back against Caleb’s, and Caleb—

Caleb grinds forward.

It’s a small, involuntary roll of his hips against Sylus’s ass that pushes Sylus’s hips into yours, and you feel the force of Caleb traveling through Sylus like a wave cresting against you.

Your mouth falls open.

“Caleb. Do that again,” you urge.

“Pips—”

“Gege, please. Do that again.”

He does it again, harder this time. His hips roll forward, grinding Sylus into you, and the pressure hits you exactly right. You gasp and grab Sylus’s shoulders. Sylus makes a low, strangled sound you’ve never heard from him before, Caleb’s hips driving him forward and yours rocking up to meet him.

“More,” you gasp.

Caleb grinds harder, his exhales ragged against Sylus’s neck. The bed is moving. You’re moving. Caleb’s hands are now white-knuckled on Sylus’s hips and Sylus’s are braced on either side of your head and you’re gripping the sheets with both fists as the room dissolves to nothing but friction and heat and breath.

“Caleb—” Sylus manages, his voice is rough in a way that makes your stomach clench, “Caleb, you need to—fuck—you need to—slow down.”

Caleb doesn’t slow down. His next stroke grinds Sylus into you so hard you nearly scream, grabbing onto Sylus’s shoulders, and your boyfriend shudders—actually shudders—and Caleb’s hips snap forward again, relentless.

Sylus throws his weight backward, driving Caleb off him enough to break away. He holds a hand between you and Caleb like a referee calling a penalty—chest heaving, skin flushed, entire body vibrating with the effort of stopping.

“Christ,” he grits out. “The pair of you.”

You stare up at him, breathless. Caleb has one knee up at the end of the bed, hands still shaped around hips that aren’t there anymore.

“We need to slow down,” Sylus says, pushing his hair back with one hand, “or one of us was going to finish in our underwear like a teenager, and I am not going to let that be me.”

“Could’ve been me,” Caleb says, roughly.

“It was going to be all three of us. And we haven’t even started yet.” Sylus looks between you, eyes dark, still catching his breath. “Underwear off. All of us.”

“Thought we weren’t animals,” Caleb mutters.

“We evolved.” Sylus counters, already halfway out of his own boxers. “Take them off, captain.”

You lift your hips and shimmy out of your panties, tossing them off the side of the bed without ceremony. Caleb relents, kicking his underwear off in the general direction of his jeans.

It’s seeing them side by side that knocks the air clean out of you.

Sylus stands tall, lean and carved, all controlled lines and casual strength. A trail of silver hair guides your eyes to where his cock hangs heavy between his thighs, the tip flushed and leaking. Caleb stands broader, rougher around the edges, the bruise on his ribs going green, tape still half-wound around his knuckles. Dark hair runs in a line below his navel, and when you see your brother’s cock for the first time—thick and eager in his hand—you draw your knees together.

Sylus’s hand catches them before they close.

“Uh-uh,” he says simply. With one palm on each knee, he eases them back apart. “None of that, sweetie.”

He guides you back against the headboard, adjusts the pillow under your lower back, running a hand down your calf once he’s finished like he’s admiring his handiwork.

“Comfortable?” he asks, sitting back on his heels.

You nod. “Yes.”

The mattress dips as Caleb moves to kneel behind Sylus. He reaches for your boyfriend’s hip, already angling to resume the position—his chest against Sylus’s back, Sylus between your legs, the structure of this arrangement he knows and trusts.

“No,” Sylus stops Caleb with a hand around his forearm, pulling him to kneel beside you instead. “I want you to see something.”

Sylus settles between your legs, lowering himself on his elbows. His mouth grazes the inside of your thigh, red eyes pinning Caleb.

“You can look, captain.”

Caleb swallows. “I am looking.”

“Then look properly.” Sylus’s breath hits your aching core with each word, and you squirm. “It’s okay. Look at her.”

Sylus holds Caleb’s eyes as his mouth moves higher. He kisses your hip, the crease of your thigh, the soft skin below your navel. Then his tongue teases your clit, and your hips jerk up off the bed. Caleb’s hand, resting on his own thigh, curls into a fist.

“See how pretty she is?” Sylus murmurs against you.

“Sylus—”

“Look.”

Sylus parts you with one long, flat stroke of his tongue, closing his lips around your clit with a teasing suck before pulling away—giving your brother an unobstructed view, you realize hazily. He spreads you open with both thumbs, displaying your swollen, slick pussy with an almost reverent care. You’re so wet that you’ve made a mess of your inner thighs, so wet it should shame you, but the way Caleb is looking at you right now leaves no room for any feeling other than the dizzying certainty that your brother wants you as badly as you want him.

“You did this, Caleb. Your sister’s pretty little cunt is ruining my sheets. All because of you,” Sylus muses. He drags a thumb up through your slick heat, eyes locked on Caleb’s expression as he circles the wetness around your clit. “She’s been like this since you grabbed me by the shirt. Since you made me bleed on the ice, I’d imagine.”

Sylus lowers his mouth to you once more, tongue patient and expert, licking into you the way he knows you like. The sensation makes your toes curl, but you’re faintly aware that the act isn’t for your pleasure, but for the benefit of the man kneeling beside you with bated breath.

Caleb watches intently—the way Sylus’s jaw works, the speed and pressure that makes you gasp, the way your hips buck when he hums against you every few strokes—studying like an exam he’s desperate to pass.

“Caleb,” Sylus says, lifting his mouth just enough to speak. “Spit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t put your mouth on her,” Sylus explains. “But you can give her something from it. Can’t you?”

Caleb exhales hard through his nose, but doesn’t deny it.

He leans over you, and his face is close, close enough that his breath heats your stomach, close enough that you see his nostrils flare, briefly, involuntarily, his lips parting at whatever he finds there. He lets saliva pool under his tongue and glances at you sideways, a silent plea for approval.

You nod, quickly, anticipation buzzing under your skin. “I want to feel you there, gege.”

He spits.

When it lands directly on your swollen clit, you cry out. The streak of saliva runs down your slit slowly, torturously, so erotic it makes you clench around nothing.

“Good,” Sylus murmurs, and drops his head back down. He works it in with his tongue, and the added slick makes you moan. “Feel that, sweetie? That’s all your brother. You’re taking him so well.”

Your hand finds the nearest solid thing—Caleb’s thigh—and grips tight.

Caleb lets out a strained sound at the contact, but he doesn’t pull away. You can feel the small shifts in his weight as he leans closer, pulled in, unable to help himself. He watches Sylus’s mouth on you with an expression that’s long passed hunger and arrived somewhere more primal.

“Sylus,” Caleb says, more groan than word.

Sylus hums against you but doesn’t move.

“Sylus. Let me—”

Sylus lifts his head, mouth glistening. He looks at Caleb with his chin resting against the inside of your thigh and a lazy, knowing expression that makes your stomach flip.

“Let you what, captain?”

Caleb’s throat moves. “Taste.”

“Taste what.”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“I’m going to make you say it.”

“Her. I want to taste her. Sylus, let me—”

“How badly.”

His jaw flexes once. Twice. “Badly.”

Sylus presses a kiss to your thigh before sitting up, giving his cock a few lazy strokes. “Hm.”

He positions the head of his cock between your legs—not to enter, just outside—sliding just the tip up and down the wet of you. You gasp, cunt throbbing, aching to be filled by him—by Sylus, by Caleb, by both.

Caleb is watching with his mouth open.

“How badly,” Sylus repeats, eyes on your brother as he rolls his hips against you this time, dragging the full length of him through your folds.

“Sylus—” Caleb urges.

“Tell me, sweetheart. I want to hear you say it.”

“Please.” It falls out of Caleb’s mouth unauthorized. “Please, Sylus, let me—”

Sylus grinds against you again, slower. He makes sure every inch of him is covered, glistening with you, and Caleb is watching with every muscle tense and his hands gripping his thighs hard enough to bruise.

“More?” Sylus asks Caleb, almost bored, like he’s asking about the weather.

“Sylus, for fuck’s sake—”

“That didn’t sound like more.”

“More. Yes. More, just—Sylus, come on—”

Sylus rolls his hips into you one last time, a long, slow grind that pulls a moan out of you and leaves him drenched. He rises onto his knees, cock gleaming with you, and looks at Caleb.

“Come here, captain.”

Caleb moves before the sentence is finished.

His mouth is on Sylus faster than you can process it—tasting you with one long, flat stroke of his tongue from base to tip; a wrecked, thankful sound torn from somewhere deep inside his chest.

“That’s it.” Sylus’s hand finds the back of Caleb’s head and holds there. “Taste your baby sister, Caleb. That’s what she tastes like when she wants you. And she’s been wanting you all night. Can you taste that? Can you taste how badly her body needs yours?”

Caleb’s hands grip Sylus’s thighs as his mouth works—tasting, chasing it, trying to get every trace of you off Sylus’s skin. You watch your boyfriend lose himself for a moment: his hips jerk forward once, and he looks down at Caleb with an expression you’ve only ever seen him give you.

“God, look at you,” Sylus says, low. “This is what you’ve been missing. Years, Caleb. Years of this.”

Caleb lifts his head. His mouth is wet, eyes nearly black. He looks at Sylus first—a look that is somehow both grateful and furious—and then he looks at you.

“I know,” he says, bitter but not at you. 

“Was it worth it? Being noble?”

Caleb shakes off Sylus’s hold, running his hand over the back of his head like he could erase the man’s touch. “Shut up, pretty boy.”

Sylus raises his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not saying anything.”

“You’re thinking it.”

“I’m thinking—” Sylus wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and settles beside you against the headboard. His hand finds your knee, pulling it closer to your chest. “—your sister has been lying here all alone, begging for you to fuck her, while you’ve been busy showing a lot of enthusiasm for a cock you claim to hate.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Qin.” His words are calm. His ears, unfortunately, are bright red. “That was for her, not you.”

“Was it. Then prove it.” Sylus gives your thigh a squeeze. “Do something for her she can actually feel. Between her legs, captain.”

“No. That’s—no. That’s not what we agreed to.” Caleb’s whole body goes rigid. “You said nobody touches anybody they’re not supposed to. That was the rule.”

“We didn’t agree to anything,” Sylus counters. “We’ve been making it up as we go. And so far, everything we’ve made up has worked, hasn’t it.”

“This—this is different.”

“Is it? You tasted your sister on my cock and the world kept turning.” Sylus raises a brow. “What makes you think this will be any different?”

“It’s completely different and you know it.”

“How.”

“Because she’s—” Caleb gestures at you without looking at you. “She’s right there, Sylus, and I—”

“Look at her, Caleb.”

Caleb looks at you, and you don’t soften it. You don’t close your legs or reach for the sheet or give him something to hide behind. You let him see the aftermath of an hour of being touched through another man, what a lifetime of being so close to your brother but never close enough has done to you.

“Caleb,” you say. “Please. Just come here.”

His hands open and close at his sides. “Pips, you don’t know what’s going to happen if I—”

“I know exactly what’s going to happen.”

“You don’t.”

“You’re going to touch me and it’s going to feel like it should have felt a long time ago. And I’m going to be fine. And you’re going to be fine. And I’m asking you, gege. I’m asking. Please.”

He’s quiet. He looks at Sylus—not for permission, not exactly. Giving your boyfriend one last chance to change his mind, to tell him this is wrong, to kick him to the curb and slam the door behind him and pretend none of this ever happened.

“She’s asking, Caleb,” Sylus says gently. “And I’m tired of being the only one who listens to her.”

Caleb closes his eyes with a heavy exhale. Opens them.

He moves between your legs.

“Closer, sweetheart,” Sylus directs from beside you. “She’s not going to bite. Yet.”

Caleb nods and inches closer on his knees, until the front of his thighs are flush against yours. He takes himself in hand and you open for him, drawing both knees tighter into your chest.

“I don’t—” Caleb starts. “What if I—”

“Just the outside,” Sylus says. “You don’t have to go in. Just feel her against you. That’s all.”

That’s all.

He presses the length of his cock flat against you the way he watched Sylus do, sliding slowly through your slick heat without entering, and the weight of your brother against your cunt makes you forget how to breathe.

“There,” Sylus says from beside you. You watch him wrap his hand around his own cock, stroking it in time with Caleb’s slow rolls, the visual sending a new wave of heat down your spine. “Just like that. Easy, captain.”

Caleb rocks his hips in long drags, hot and devastating as he slides through the wet of everything the night has built. His hand is still on himself, still controlling the angle, still holding onto the last bit of restraint he has left.

“Shit,” he manages. “Sylus, she’s so—feels so—”

“I know.”

“She’s—I can’t—”

“You can,” Sylus assures, gentle and genuine. “You’re fine. She’s fine. It’s just the outside.”

Your hips rock up to meet his on the next stroke, shifting the angle, and the head of his cock catches at your entrance.

All three of you gasp at the same time.

“That’s okay. Just a little is okay,” Sylus says, quieter now. He leans closer to rest a hand on Caleb’s lower back. “You can give your sister just the tip. That’s allowed. That’s nothing.”

“That’s not nothing—”

“It’s close to nothing. Let it happen.”

Caleb rocks forward and the head of him slides in—just barely inside, the tight heat of you closing around the first inch, your legs falling wider open with a small gasp. He collapses forward, free hand fisting into the sheets beside your shoulder. Your mouths open, only inches apart now. His hand tightens around himself like a brake.

“There,” Sylus murmurs. “See? That’s fine. Nothing to be afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid,” Caleb grits out.

“Then go a little further. You can let go of yourself. You don’t have to hold on anymore.” His thumb soothes small arcs on Caleb’s back. “Why don’t you give her a little more. Just an inch. She can take it. Can’t you, sweetie?”

Caleb’s hand releases. He plants it beside your other shoulder.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, more, please—”

Caleb sinks deeper. An inch. Another. His jaw is clenched so hard you can see the tendon at his neck as his eyes lock on yours, searching for the thing that will tell him to stop.

You don’t give it to him.

“More,” you beg. “I can take it. I promise I can take it.”

“Pips—”

“Gege, please. I need you closer. I need more.”

“All the way,” Sylus says, and his hand presses flat against Caleb’s lower back. “All the way, sweetheart. She’s asking so nicely. Give your baby sister the cock she’s been begging for.”

Caleb pushes all the way in.

His forehead drops to yours, eyes squeezing shut. His forearms are shaking where they cage your head, and you’re full of him, completely, finally, and you have never in your life felt more whole.

Your arms come up around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist, and you hold him there, as deep as he can go. Sylus strokes the back of Caleb's head once before returning to your side.

“There you go,” Sylus murmurs. “There. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

Caleb’s breath shudders against your mouth.

“Give me a second,” he says. “Meimei, give me one second.”

You give him a second. You give him several. You lie there with him buried inside you and his sweat-slicked forehead against yours and your breath mixing in the inch between your mouths and you wait.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

When he moves, it’s in rolls, not thrusts. He moves like he’s terrified of the end of this, like if he goes slow enough it will never stop, and you let him, because you’ve waited years and you can wait a few more minutes.

Sylus settles back against the headboard, stroking himself slowly, watching the two of you with half-lidded eyes, his free hand resting on his own thigh. Occasionally it drifts—brushing a strand of your hair out of your face, giving a reassuring squeeze to Caleb’s forearm. Though you can barely register anything aside from the way Caleb is looking at you the way you always dreamed he would, like he’s burning alive and doesn’t want to be saved.

“Faster,” you plead, gripping his forearms for leverage.

Caleb doesn’t check with Sylus anymore. He goes faster.

You dig your heels into his ass, pulling him impossibly deeper. He groans against your throat, the loudest sound the room has heard all night, and his hips snap forward and the bedframe hits the wall with each thrust and neither of you cares. You’re nothing but two people who have been starving trying to eat at the same time, and it’s too fast and too much and not enough and—

“Caleb,” Sylus says.

His rhythm stutters. “What could you possibly—”

“Kiss her.”

Caleb cuts Sylus a sidelong glare, but he doesn’t reply.

“You heard me, captain.”

Your brother looks down at you, hips still rolling in a steady rhythm. He lowers his mouth to your forehead and presses his lips there. It’s the kind of kiss you’ve received a thousand times—at the airport, at graduation, in the parking lot after games. Safe. Known.

Sylus clicks his tongue, dissatisfied. “Lower, Caleb.”

Caleb inhales sharply, eyes scanning your face, contemplating. His hips have all but stilled, as if he needs all of his focus to fulfill the request. He picks a lower spot—the apple of your cheek—and kisses you there softly.

“Gege,” you whisper against the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah.”

“Please.”

“I know, meimei.”

You tilt your chin up, lower lip brushing his. “Please. Just one.”

Caleb kisses you, and the world falls away.

It’s slow, unbearably slow, just the full, warm weight of his mouth against yours for the very first time. His hand comes up to cradle your face, the gesture so tender you feel the start of tears pooling behind your lashes.

Caleb pulls away a fraction and comes back. His lips part, barely, and yours open to meet them. His tongue finds yours tentatively, nothing like the way he kissed Sylus, and you savor the way it glides against yours like it was always meant to. He tastes like whiskey and copper and Sylus’s skin and underneath all of it like Caleb—not number five, not the hockey captain, but your older brother, the one who taught you to skate when you were nine and held both your hands the whole time and never once let go.

His hips start moving again, each stroke matched to the kiss, each deep roll timed to the slide of his tongue against yours. Your hand moves from his jaw into his hair, and you kiss him back and feel a lifetime of careful distance dissolve like it was never there. Like all those years you thought were keeping something out were really keeping something in, something alive and wound tight and desperate for the chance to break free.

Caleb deepens the kiss, hungrier now, tongue licking deeper against yours as his hips snap forward so hard it’s almost painful.

“There he is,” Sylus says, barely above a breath, hand quickening on himself. “Fuck, look at you two. Let go. Together. Let everything go.”

“Gege,” you manage. “I’m close.”

“I know.” Against your lips. “Me too, meimei. Me too.”

“Don’t stop.”

“I’m not—I won’t—I—”

You both let go.

You break around him. His hips stutter. The sound he makes into your mouth is the twin of the one you make into his, and there’s nothing poetic or graceful about it. He holds your face like he’s trying to live inside the kiss, like if he stays long enough it’ll become something he can keep. You feel his release pulse hot inside you, your own orgasm pulling him in even deeper, and you hold each other through every wave, never breaking the kiss. Not even when he’s shaking, and you’re shaking, and neither of you can breathe.

Beside you, Sylus comes with his forehead tipped back against the headboard and his hand in your hair, fingers tangled loosely in the damp strands at the back of your neck while the two people he brought together fall apart. His exhale is long and heavy and sounds, if you’re listening for it, like satisfaction.

The kiss finally, reluctantly breaks.

Caleb pulls back an inch, resting his forehead against yours, the two of you trading shaky breaths while you wait for the room to stop spinning.

“I just kissed you,” he whispers.

You laugh, and it comes out wet. “You did a lot more than that.”

“Yeah, but—“ He wipes away a tear from your cheekbone you didn’t realize had fallen, his eyes glassy and dark and full of so many emotions your chest aches. “I kissed you, meimei.”

“Yeah, gege.” You grin. “You did.”

He smiles. It’s a smile you’ve know your whole life but never from this close, and from here it simply looks like pure, wild joy. And you think, without deciding to, that you’d burn the entire world to the ground just to see him smile like that twice.

Caleb stays inside you for a long time. His face is in your neck, your fingers in his hair, the two of you so thoroughly entangled your heartbeats are nearly synchronized.

Sylus is the first one to move.

He gets up quietly. You hear the tap run in the bathroom, the sound of a drawer opening and closing. He comes back with a glass of water and a warm cloth, sits on the edge of the bed, and rests a hand on Caleb’s shoulder.

“Out,” he says, gently. “Easy. I’ve got her.”

Caleb pulls out—reluctantly, carefully—and rolls onto his side. He reaches for you immediately, pulling you against his chest, arm heavy over your waist, nose in your hair, like he’s afraid someone’s going to call time.

Sylus cleans you up. Sets the water on the nightstand within reach. Pulls the sheet up over both of you, kisses the top of your head, and goes to the other side of the bed.

He lies down beside Caleb. Not touching, giving the two of you your own space to come down together. Caleb’s palm presses into your bare abdomen, soothing circles over your stomach. And after a minute or two, he shifts backward. Just enough that his shoulders meet Sylus’s chest.

Sylus lifts his arm and drapes it over both of you, over Caleb’s ribs, your waist, his palm settling on your stomach on top of Caleb’s hand.

Caleb exhales. His whole body goes slack against Sylus’s chest.

“Don’t you dare say a word, pretty boy,” Caleb murmurs.

“I’m not saying anything.”

“And don’t bring this up ever again.”

“Bring what up.”

“This. Any of this. Not on the ice, not in the locker room, not ever.”

“Caleb, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m asleep. You’re asleep. She's asleep. Nothing happened.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Nothing at all, sweetheart,” Sylus confirms. “Though if it had, I’d be putting myself down for the assist.”

“I will smother you with this pillow.”

“That would require you to let go of her first, captain.”

Caleb’s arm tightens around your waist. Sylus’s arm tightens over his. You lace your fingers through both of their hands where they overlap on your stomach and close your eyes.

Somewhere in the living room, the basketball game has ended, the TV humming without an audience. Nobody gets up to turn it off.

Nobody gets up at all.

if u made it this far....thank u for reading, fellow freak ;)

still hungry, sweetie??? -> masterlist | ao3

◡̈ ♡

[cocoaxia]

★ — 5/5 !

summary: in which you’re dating valko + experience a few different scenarios with him.

notes: all of these are prompts i’ve already done for the other 5 lis w/ the same titles! all of these are gender neutral and pretty fluffy + a few mentions of sexual acts here and there so MDNI / NSFW but that’s it ^^

p.s. og links can be found on my masterlist (- -)(_ _) i hope you enjoy RAHHHHHHH ty to everyone who requested these for valko. it was hard to narrow down but these were the most popular read SO !!!

guilty pleasure

in which the valko (accidentally) eats aphrodisiac sweets.

target locked

in which valko reacts to you being hit on by another guy.

ragebait

in which you attempt to ragebait valko.

three’s a crowd

in which you ask valko if he’s ever considered a threesome.

under wraps

in which you ask about valko’s condom size.

a/n: these were silly and basic but i wanted to do more valko so…yay…ty for reading (- -)(_ _)

© cocoaxia

[cocoaxia]

★ — obs[ex]ssion !

summary: in which the lads boys want you back after taking a break.

ft. xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb & valko

notes: ummmmm a bit toxic from them all lowkey…like they’re all a little evil…no one’s safe sorry lolz. no explicit mentions of gender (!!!), a bit of condescension, boundaries are like…nonexistent…that’s it (i think).

p.s. i’ve done something very similar to this already BUT i kinda hated the way i did + wanted to add valko SO!!! redo!!!

a/n: made them a little sinister r we rocking with it…gulp…ty for reading (- -)(_ _)

© cocoaxia

[onlyraf]

Caleb x Fem Reader. Smut MDNI. Subleb for the five of us that enjoy him ;)

Your lips felt warm against Caleb's thigh. Every touch left behind a bright kiss mark. Caleb wasn't sure how much more he can take. "Pips please?" His voice was laced with need. 

You looked up innocently at him on your knees as he sat on the couch. "Please what?" 

It started out as a fun cute idea. You tested out your new lipstick on your boyfriend. You used his face as your canvas, leaving kiss marks all over him. You moved on to his neck and chest. From there you moved further and further down. 

"Don't make me beg." He grabbed your chin, guiding you towards his hard aching cock. You giggled at his desperation. It took everything in him not to forcefully shove his cock down your throat. Your hand wraps his cock, jerking him off slowly. He whimpers and thrusts into your hand. 

You give the tip a small lick before kissing the under side of his cock. "Oh Fuck baby." He hissed out in pleasure. You leave a trail of kiss marks, moving your lips back up towards his tip. You lick the tip again, tasting his pre cum. You kiss another side of his cock, making sure no spot was left without your mark. 

So began your teasing pattern of kissing and licking. Caleb whimpers your name. Your possessiveness stirs within you seeing him like this, covered in your marks. It's like you were claiming him. Only you could ever touch him and no one else. He was your Caleb. 

"I'm gonna cum… Fuck." You stop and watch him climax. His cock twitches, shooting out his cum on to the floor. 

"I barely did anything and you came." 

"Yeah because you wouldn't stop teasing me." He grabs your hand, guiding you to straddle his lap. His cock was still hard. You feel a sting when he suddenly bites your neck. "It's my turn to mark you. It's only fair right?" 

Taglist: @valkyrhii @gardenialily @lunarify @imsaemi @hirayalia @cutiebunnyapplefairy @xxvendettaxx @calebsfavoriteusedthong @emowitchwithatwist @sayonaradearlife1727-new @maimaily @beelpita @elysiasgirlfriend @violojezel @typicalme23

[myntrose]

olfactory

anon's ask : Just having a thought of Valko using his beloved's puss like some sort of inhaler after dealing with "bad scents" during the day. Not even sexualy. I looove your Valko and would love even more to read something like this (just ignore it if thats too much, I'm already sorry) cw : wolfish/shifter themes, 18+ themes, scenting/scent headcanons, slight somno if you squint, fluff, suggestive, crack, not proof read a/n : hello anon !! thank you for the request. i actually love this so dw ♡ i've been really sick this last week so i promise im seeing everyones asks im getting there slowly (╥‸╥)♡

even without the ears and tail, there are just some habits valko has that reminds you of his werewolf heritage.

there's the shedding. right after the shower, he loves sitting on the floor with you behind him on the couch, brushing through his ears and tail. no matter how much of his fur ends up on the comb or floor, he still has so much. it does make his tail a great pillow and heat source when you cuddle though.

he's sensitive to sounds. even when he's in his full human form, his regular ears have a higher sensitivity to low frequency noises. it could be the second floor bathroom sink dripping water, a bird chirping in the yard. more often then not you end up playing the game of figuring out what "low buzzing sound" he's hearing, and having to shut it off before his migraine grows. (7/10 times its the fridge)

valko doesn't realize it, but he always lets out small doggy like sounds. it could be due to anything. you kiss his forehead? a breathy satisfied sigh. accidentally step on his tail? a sharp yelp from his part. (although... he ends up being the one to apologize to you? "im so sorry baby my tail shouldn't have been there!" 'koko im the one who stepped on you im sorry')

one of the more obvious ones is his scenting behaviors. scents and smells overall is another sense of his that is just sensitive. overly artificial perfumes, the extremely antiseptic scent of cleaners, rust and iron. your poor werewolf often comes home with a head heavy dealing with the constant assault to his olfactory system.

on the very early days on dating, valko mentioned that you had a very specific scent. not the one from any fragrances you wear, but "your natural scent. it's something that just stands out to me. I can find you in a crowd with it". it's almost a routine once he comes home for him to pull you into his arms, drag you into the couch, and bury his nose into your neck where he's said that scent of yours he loves is the strongest.

speaking off- he has favorite parts of you to breath in. you neck, the juncture between your neck and collar specifically being the most common area he breaths in. it's ideal when cuddling or sleeping together. in more public spaces, he'll opt for your wrists and hands. holding them, bringing them to his nose and face. or the most recently place you've learned brings him comfort for some reason that you can only attribute to him being a werewolf...

"val."

purrrrr

"valko."

mhnnn

your hands are tangled in his hair, alternating between scratching his fluffy ears. he's been buried between your thighs since you've woken up. and while other times he's there for other reasons that you both enjoy, this time he's genuinely just there, cheek pressed against your inner thigh, breathing in like he has nothing to worry about.

"y'smell really good. makes my head all quite." he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. you make a weak attempt to swat his head away.

"you're being weird," you mutter, with no real heat to it.

"yeah," he kisses the skin of your thighs, open and gentle, "but your scent.. it makes all the noise go away."

it's hard to push him off bed when he whispers sweet words like that in the morning. but he's just the right amount of endearing and adorable that you just have to tease him.

"...so, is this specifically a scent kink thing or a me thing?"

you have to hold back the giggle from your chest when you literally feel his breath hitch. he perks up from his spot between your legs, face and tips of his ears already blushing.

"that's not- it's not- I don't have-"

his wolf ears flatten against his skull, akin to a puppy who has been denied treats.

"it's not a kink... just a wolf think. you smell safe. like home."

you finally break- reaching down and scratching his head while cooing lightly. he leans into your touch, eyes warm and so full of love that it makes your heart swell a bit more.

sure, valko might have some odd habits, and while it's partly due to his biology, he will always stand by that it's simply because of how much he loves you first.

i'm alive again hello loves. (i stopped being sick just to start my period immediately. yipe fuckin yay)

[bearhaviour]

Insomnia.

[nixdvn]

Xavier's belly is fluffy!!

[abyssyby]

⋆｡˚꒰ঌ piece by piece ໒꒱˚｡⋆

some drama over lunch ⁽͑˙˚̀ᵕ˚́˙⁾̉

[purrtoru]

helping toji work out always gets a little distracting. . .

“c’mon, you gotta count, doll.”

toji’s lying flat on the floor, hands behind his head as he starts another set of crunches. you’re sitting comfortably on his hips to keep him in place, but you’re clearly not taking your job very seriously.

every time he sits up, instead of calling out the next number, you lean in and give him a quick kiss.

“that was… um…” you mumble, tapping your chin like you’re actually thinking. “three? no… wait— four?”

he comes up again— another kiss.

“you forgot already?” he says, clicking his tongue after.

“…maybe.”

another crunch. another kiss.

he smirks, finally catching on.

“you’re not even trying to help me work out here.”

“i am!”

“nice try.” he raises a brow. “you’ve had me on the same rep for two minutes.”

you try your hardest to look innocent, but the smile on your face gives you away.

“i just keep losing count..”

“mhm.”

he comes up again, stopping just inches from your face before you can steal another kiss.

“if you want a kiss,” he says, that smug grin spreading further across his face, “you just ask, hm?”

“but this is more fun..” you pout.

he sighs, but one hand settles on your waist.

“fine.”

this time, he leans in first, stealing a kiss before dropping back down.

“…now count for real.”

“one..” you start counting again.

he sits up again— you kiss him.

“…one,” you repeat.

toji just looks at you for a second before letting out a laugh.

“…we’re gonna be here all day, aren’t we?”

[winterwines]

Tense (🔞)

pairing: Xavier x fem reader

themes/cw: porn without plot, tension, friends to lovers kinda, kissing, Xavier in his uniform, explicit sexual content (fingering, thigh riding)

summary: Xavier shows up at your doorstep after a long day of work, guards lowered and in need of some company. Once he notices you’ve been dealing with some pent up frustration of your own he’s more than happy to help….

word count: ~ 2.5k

notes: soft spoken, love drunk Xavier has me in a chokehold; he’s comforting AND a hot mess

_

The sound of the doorbell caught you off guard. You sat up on your couch, cheeks flushed, the display of your e-reader still showing evidence of your nightly reading. It was that time of the month again and you couldn’t help but feel restless and in need of some relief. But now you only felt caught in the act.

You didn’t even expect someone to show up at this hour; it was after midnight already.

The doorbell rang again, followed by a hurried knock.

You stood, hesitant whether this was a a possible break in or just one of your neighbours trying the wrong door.

That’s when it clicked. You only had one neighbour you recently found at your doorstep ...

You hurried to open, finding a dishevelled Xavier, just as expected. His gaze flicked up to yours, his blue a fervent mess. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You noticed he was wearing his hunter uniform. He looked exhausted and a little beside himself. “What happened to you?”

“I ...” He frowned, lips twisting and you noticed the cut on his bottom lip. “Had a rough day. Can I come in?”

You stepped aside to let him pass, your stomach tied in a knot of worry. “Xavier, are you hurt?”

He let out a weighted breath as he took off his gloves, back turned to you. He was standing there like a lost cause and your heart squeezed at the sight.

Xavier had always been a good friend to you. You’d spent many nights eating take out, watching movies, falling asleep on each other’s shoulders. Like a quiet compromise, spending each other company, having each other’s back ...

You were friends. And still, the fact that he came to you in a state like this made you feel strangely appreciated.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He offered you a soft smile. “I didn’t want to be alone, is all. I hope I didn’t wake you up?” He glanced into the living room where a small light was on and a wine glass stood abandoned on the coffee table.

“No, you didn’t. I was just ...” You shrugged, trying to keep a calm expression. “Reading.”

His gaze had softened and his smile bled into the blue of his eyes as if he knew something you didn’t. “Ah.”

For a wicked moment, you thought about him taking the distance and kissing you against the closed door. Still in his uniform, your hands in his already messy hair ...

“Is it weird that I’m here?” Xavier asked, breaking your illusion. He must’ve seen something on your features because he frowned. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to see you. I–”

“No!” You blurted, shaking your head. “Come in. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get you a glass of wine.” Your eyes settled on his mouth, studying the cut. “And maybe the first aid kit?”

Xavier averted his eyes. He cleared his throat, then nodded at your offer. “Really, I’m fine.”

 ~

Five minutes later you returned to the living room with a fresh glass and the first aid kit only to find Xavier already on the couch, eyeing your e-reader with raised eyebrows.

You froze, suddenly realizing you left it there unlocked with a very compromising scene on full display.

With burning cheeks, you joined him on the couch, pouring him a glass of wine and nudging the e-reader out of sight, trying to act oblivious.

You felt Xavier’s gaze on you, his hand resting close to where you took a seat. You offered him the glass of wine and a smile. He took a sip, never letting go of your gaze; his expression remained completely unreadable. When he lowered the glass to the table, your gaze once again dipped to his mouth, inspecting the cut on his bottom lip.

His jaw tensed and you frowned at him. “Does it hurt?”

“What?” He seemed surprised by the question, puzzled even.

You reached for him without thinking, carefully taking his chin in your hand, angling his head to get a better view of the injury. Once again, his jaw muscles worked under your touch. “That’s a nasty cut.”

“y/n ...” The sound of your name on his lips, all hoarse and a little desperate, caught you off guard.

You looked up at him, finding him staring at you already, pupils blown as if ...

You drew back, letting go of his face but he was reaching for you, hand closing around your wrist. The contact of skin sent a tingling sensation all the way up your spine.

“Let me help you with that,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

The moment stretched on, his eyes locked on yours as if he was weighing his options.

This was new – you’d always felt a certain tension around him, couldn’t deny that he was handsome and his voice a soothing calm after a stressful day. But you had never actively allowed yourself to feel more; you had dreams about this; sometimes your mind slipped ... But this situation was real. He was staring at you like he wanted to devour you.

“There is something you can help me with,” he said after a few seconds. His voice was calm, his words carefully picked out.

“What is it?”

He loosened the grip on your wrist to brush his fingers up your arm – more tingling sensations, more fuel for your already spiralling mind. Your breath hitched as he reached your shoulder and he stopped, gaze dropping to your neck and your exposed collar bones, then back up to your lips where it remained.

Your heart was hammering in your chest at the anticipation. You didn’t dare to move, wishing for him to take the first step.

But something suddenly shifted in his expression. He leaned back, restoring distance between you and leaving your skin achingly empty where his fingers had touched you seconds before.

“Perhaps” – his eyes fluttered shut, his whole face flushed up to his ears – “I really am hurt. I seem to have lost any sense of restraint tonight.”

You swallowed at the words, shifting closer to him on the couch. “Xavier, what’s going on with you?”

He was resting his head on the couch, eyes opening halfway to reveal a hooded gaze. The way he was looking at you was enough to make you squirm, subtly pressing your legs together at the rising anticipation in your core.

It didn’t help that you had been feeling on edge all night already thanks to your cycle; the possibility of Xavier in your apartment looking at you like he wanted to ruin you wasn’t exactly making you think rationally.

“What were you reading?” He suddenly asked, snapping you out of your fantasy.

A fresh wave of heat rushed to your cheeks and you glanced at the e-reader now pushed beneath a couch cushion. “Uh ... I ... Just some book.” As if he didn’t know already.

“You can tell me, you know.” His hand flexed beside him. “Maybe we can help each other?”

You shifted again, unable to hide how his words were impacting your body, pooling right between your legs. You were already too far gone. “What do you mean?”

It was a dumb question, really. But Xavier’s smile was soft and a little strained as his gaze roamed over you again. “Come here.”

You did as he told you without hesitating. Only when you sat close to him, when your legs were touching and he was leaning over to nuzzle your neck with his nose, you allowed yourself to breathe again. It came out all shaky and harsh and Xavier chuckled quietly against your skin, drinking you in for a moment before moving his nose to brush against your jaw, then your cheek. “You smell so good, y/n.” He sighed as if revelling in that very scent for a moment. “I missed it so much.”

“I missed you too,” you admitted to him and he stilled, drawing back just enough to look at you through half-lidded eyes.

“You did?” His lips were ghosting over yours. “Did you think of me when you read that book?”

You felt your stomach flip at the question, at the tone of his voice – all of Xavier’s gentle kindness yet laced with something darker. All new. All yours for the taking.

“Yes.” The words fell from your mouth in an involuntary confession. But you didn’t have time to regret it because he was already kissing you.

He was so warm, gentle yet just rough enough as he leaned closer, demanding your lips to part for him so his tongue could brush against your bottom lip, then further up against your own tongue.

You moaned at the sensation of him taking what he wanted from you, feeling the rough cut of his small injury as he deepened the kiss. His hand came up to your neck to steady you and press you further up against him at the same time as if it was still not enough, as if he wanted even more.

“All this time, I thought I was imagining things.” He breathed in between more kisses. “I thought you would never crave what I crave.”

Your stomach flip-flopped again. You drew back, taking his face in your hands. “You really mean it?” Your thumb brushed over the cut on his bottom lip, your gaze followed.

He groaned softly into your touch. “When you look at me like that, I want to ...”

Your eyes snapped back up to his. “Yes?”

The next kiss was harsher. You put your arms around his neck as he pulled you into his lap, a rough sound leaving his throat as you lowered your weight onto him.

“You must feel so tense after reading that book,” he breathed, lips brushing from your mouth to your jaw and further down to your collarbone. He sucked at the skin, aiming to leave a mark and you felt that same ache between your legs again, desperate for relief.

He hummed as if in understanding, hand brushing over your bare thigh up to the hem of your shorts. “I told you, I can help you.” He squeezed at the squishy skin of your thighs, drawing a gasp from you. “You can use me to find some relief.”

When you looked at him you felt yourself tremble. He was watching you with intent, waiting for your response. You nodded, shifting in his lap and feeling him already hard against his pants. He was still wearing his uniform and your mind already went wild with imagery of him pressing you against the couch, burying himself inside you.

But Xavier had different plans, it seemed. He gripped your hips to guide you over him until you were situated with your knees on either side of his left leg, your shorts bunched up high on your thighs, pressing against your throbbing entrance.

He was leaning back, watching you as he flexed his thigh.

It was a subtle sensation with all those layers of clothes beneath you, but your hips rolled forward anyway, providing a wave of perfect friction.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you circled your hips again, settling into a quick and desperate rhythm almost immediately.

Xavier’s hands gripped your hips, pushing you down and angling his leg to aid you. “Does that feel good?”

“Mh, y-yeah.” You couldn’t help but revel in the friction of your movements. You had been pent up all day, trying to touch yourself to chase relief but this was so much better than anything you could’ve conjured in your imagination.

“Xavier,” you gasped, opening your eyes to find him watching you, his blue gaze glazed over, as if your pleasure alone was getting him off just as much.

“I know, baby.” His hands were still on you, guiding your hips. “I got you. Can you show me how much you missed me?”

His words had your hips jerking uncontrollably as you were chasing that high. They sent you right over the edge in an intense orgasm. You kept humping his thigh, one hand clutching his uniform, the other hand gripping his shoulder as you rode out your high until you collapsed into him with panting breaths.

His arms were around you, steadying you and pulling you in a close embrace. He nipped at your earlobe, and you shuddered, burying your face in his neck.

“I’m glad,” he said in that same soft voice as before, “that I’m not the only one who imagined this.”

You brushed your thumb over the cut on his lip again. “Is it now my turn to help you?”

He shook his head, pushing you off his thigh only to flip you over onto the couch so he could tower over you.

“I’m sure I can get one more from you.” His voice was nearly a whisper as he slipped a hand into your shorts, beneath your soaked slip. You gasped as he dragged one finger along your folds, slipping it in and curling it against that sensitive spot. Your hips twitched against his hand, still sensitive from the first orgasm but chasing the sensation as your hand gripped his hair.

He slipped another finger in, watching your face as his lips were hovering above yours. “See? You’re still pretty tense.”

“Please, Xavier.” You were outright moaning his name because his thumb was now circling your clit as he kept moving his fingers in a lazy rhythm. “I need it.”

“So beautiful.” He hummed in understanding, then pressed a kiss to your temple. “Right here?” He was hitting a spot that sent stars through your vision, gripping your hips and holding you down while you kept grinding up against him. “Are you gonna cum again, baby? Just for me?”

“Y-Yes.”

Your second orgasm ripped through you just as intensely as the first one. You were clinging to Xavier as you gasped his name, hands fisting into his uniform as you came undone beneath him.

He kissed you before you could fully recover, starting slowly, lazy strokes of his tongue licking into your mouth and lapping up your moans as he let you use his hand to ride out that second high.

Your eyes fluttered open as his hand left your shorts only so he could brush his thumb against your mouth, gaze ravenous. You opened for him, taking his fingers into your mouth and sucked as your eyes remained fixed on him.

His jaw tensed and his eyes went glassy as he watched you and when he lowered his hand to kiss you again, you could hear him moan softly in the back of his throat.

You were completely breathless, your knees wobbly and your shorts and panties ruined. You brushed a hand through Xavier’s hair, watching his face as he kept hovering above you. He was looking ever hungry, probably painfully hard against his pants by now.

But when you slid your hand between the two of you, reaching for his belt, he caught your wrist, then pressed a kiss to your palm before continuing up your arm. He was bunching your shirt up all the way to your breasts, then pressed his mouth to your belly, fingers hooking into your shorts as that half-lidded gaze found yours again.

“Now,” he said, tone laced with more dangerous intent, “I’m gonna use my tongue.”

[jojorice]

pocky game~ 😳

gojo was planning for that kiss all along but geto beat him to the punch hehe ><

[heartyluv]

contains: dry humping & some domesticity. that's it that's all ^.^ wc: 1.9K (idk how i did that) i did proofread, but yk... ദ്ദി◝ ⩊ ◜

so easy to fall in love ♡

“saturday? yeah, i got it. well, tell auntie that we’ll try our best to be there, but i can’t make any promises.”

your eyebrows furrow and your lips morph into a curious pout as you zone in on the tail end of your boyfriend’s phone call. the movie you had been streaming immediately became unimportant with the brief mention of his family claiming your full attention instead.

likely referring to another impromptu get-together that they’re clearly asking for you both to attend, you were itching to learn the details of it over the plot of a film you admittedly had little interest in before you even pressed play. the fact that the volume hadn’t made it past ten should’ve been enough to emphasize its insignificance.

“doesn’t matter to me, but i’ll ask her and see what she thinks.” valko exhales with a hum of approval in acknowledgment to whatever else his cousin was relaying, leaning back and tilting his head so that his temple can rest comfortably against your knee. with the warmth of him against you and the soft caress of his fingers along and around your ankle, little moments like these made you cherish having a man so mindlessly affectionate.

to call your boyfriend clingy was an understatement, but it was something about him that you’d never trade for anything in the world. the moment you welcomed him into your life with open arms and kissed him sweetly when he confidently asked you with the silliest smile to be his girl forever, you knew what kind of relationship it was bound to be.

to this day, it didn’t matter if he had important phone calls, intricate things to study up on, or confidential documents to overlook and analyze. one thing for certain was that he would always do any and all of it wherever you were if he could.

ten minutes go by before he’s finally sitting up and removing the earbuds from his ears and the whole headset from around his neck. whatever work he had been click-clacking away at for the last two hours after taking a shower and having dinner was disregarded when he shuts the screen of his laptop and turned to look up at you holding the cute wolf plushie he’d won for you a couple months back.

“everything okay?” you ask him softly as he faces you completely, reaching out to gently rake your fingernails through the soft and now fully dried hair right behind his ear.

getting to watch that handsome face of his fall completely relaxed and content was truly a sacred experience. his immediate submission is something you frequently tease him for when compared to his cocky demeanor, but you both knew you’d never hear the end of it should you stop for any reason.

“yeah, it’s all good. random brunch for the third time this month over the weekend. you up for it? by all means, say no if you prefer to just chill with the love of your life or whatever.”

“you and your family are just too cute. once again, i’m reminded where you get all that audacity from.”

valko grins at the giggle you can’t contain, continuing to explore the softness of your skin as you both doted on the other silently. settling between your legs while he sits on the floor was on the top of his list of his preferred kind of intimacy. “but you know i’m down if you are. i go where you go. i mean duhhh, that’s how we always move. like a pack, right?”

he leans deeper into your touch, eyes nearly falling shut completely from the euphoria he gets out of the way you love on him with one of the things he classifies as a guilty pleasure. truthfully, he wasn’t secretive about such an obsession at all, but what was known didn’t always need to be said out loud. unless used against him, of course.

“didn’t even give you any info on it yet and you’re already so eager to follow me like a good little pup, huh?”

“oh, i’m the eager one?” the protest ready to fall from his lips is first expressed in the pinch of his brows when your hand slips away from the stimulation being given to one of his favorite spots. his expressions had the tendency to give away any thoughts before he could say a word. it’s why he always says you read him better than any book he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“what the fuc—”

“watch it,” you warn playfully. whatever was to be said is swallowed down when the pads of your fingertips begin tracing the defined outline of his jawline before resting on the underside of his chin. “so quick to start with me. aren’t you supposed to be my good boy?”

valko takes your lighthearted taunting as a challenge, grasping you by the wrist and bringing it up to his nose to inhale your addictive scent and the faint aroma of your perfume.

“aren’t i always?”

“you have your moments. i’ve gotta say though, obedience looks super sexy on you.”

“hm. i bet it does.” his grin brings out the subtle dimples in his cheeks. “is it my turn to make a move now?”

he’s pulling you off the couch and on top of him before you’re capable of offering a response to his vague request. the two of you are caught in a laughing fit all the way down until his back hits the plush rug and you’re settled in his lap.

the chuckles are interrupted when you feel his not-so-little friend prodding at you for some kind of attention.

“oh, you perv.”

“perv? that’s not a nice thing to say to the man of your dreams, now is it?” he’s slipping his hands beneath your shorts as his palms slide up the outside of your thighs. “i just consider this instinctual. others would say natural. can’t blame me for what i can’t control.”

the heaviness of his hardening cock pressing into you from below had a steadily increasing heartbeat thumping in your panties. from the soft look he sports with his glasses, the oversized red sweater you got him last christmas, and the dark gray sweats doing nothing to conceal what you were quickly becoming unashamedly desperate for, no way were you getting off of him without some kind of relief.

valko watches you closely as you raise said sweater to sit below his chin, revealing the big, strong, and sculpted body that you’ve fallen helplessly head over heels for. he was hard where you were soft, and it was opposites like that that made you fit so well.

“would you look at that. and i’m the one being labeled a pervert. baby, i think we’re mixing things up.”

“can’t i admire my boyfriend? isn’t this natural?”

it’s almost like his eyes shine when you use his own words against him.

“‘course you can. in fact, you better. but…” he sniffs up at the air four times, a smug grin taking over his lips. “i’m sensing that admiration isn’t the only thing you’ve got planned in that big head of head of yours.”

“fuck off,” you laugh, pinching his nose. “and don’t act so tough.”

with one slow upward motion of your hips, the thickness pulsing against you seems to swell even bigger than before. his teeth tuck his bottom lip into his mouth from the sensation and his hold on your hips deepens, nails biting deliciously at your flesh. “admiration isn’t enough for you anyways.”

your lips fall to his quickly, tongues battling for a dominance you know he’d fight tooth and nail to be the one to conquer. but he throughly enjoys a biting prey and it’s why he loves you.

his hands are sliding out the fabric of your sleepwear to find purchase on other parts of your body the more heated your sensual exchange becomes. as he licks at the roof of your mouth and tries his hardest to devour you whole, you’re embraced by his large hands grabbing at you like the greedy beast he’s proud to be.

it’s when he makes his way back to your hips that you both know this wouldn’t last long. and when he starts to frantically guide you to grind against him faster, holding you down to feel him through the few layers of clothes that’s causing separation, instinctively you knew that it was in your best interest to prepare yourself for the more he was going to give soon after this.

“you’re not… hah—wearing underwear…” you breathe against his mouth glistening with your shared saliva. you’re quick to take off his glasses from the growing frustration of them getting in your way of being closer, discarding them towards the plush cushions with fingers crossed for a safe landing.

“aren’t you smart.” the teasing inflection in his tone and the deepness of his voice has your cunt throbbing to the point of growing uncomfortable.

your clit continues to ache the more you move with him, nipples grazing underneath your top and begging to be sucked into his mouth.

“sit up,” he says breathlessly with another sloppy kiss to your partially swollen lips.

he keeps you moving on his cock as you rise, lustful gaze focused on the way your shorts ride up your thighs and cling to your pussy from how taut he’s got them pulled to increase the friction. the outline of his dick moving against it back and forth, trying its best to nestle in between—the visual alone has him bucking up and trying to make that a reality.

valko’s hands slide up the sides of your torso and his thumbs delicately play with your peaked nipples beneath your t-shirt.

“val,” you whine, resting your hand on his chest to keep you steady as you try your hardest to not lose your shit from the sensitivity taking over everywhere. “w-want it inside. want it so bad…”

“you open that pretty mouth for everything else.” he flicks them this time to make you tense and for tears to damn near overfill both your waterlines. “should’ve just said how much you wanted to be fucked way sooner, pup. saves us so much time.”

but you can’t wait for that now, not when you’re so close. the lone idea of stopping was aggravating enough.

your head falls back from the insatiable manner in which you chase your high, using his body to the highest degree to help get you there.

“you smell so sweet,” he coos through a husky moan. “mm. you’ll let me taste it later? it’s not good to be stingy.”

“right t-there,” you mewl, pressing your lips together before your vision practically blurs and and has you seeing dots. your orgasm is cataclysmic, and valko keeps your momentum going despite the clear overstimulation you’re experiencing. hearing you sing for him like this and watching you fall apart was worth your little hits of retaliation later.

he’s not far behind you either, thick spurts of sticky cum making a complete mess in his pants soon after you cave and quickly seeps through the material to add to the wet spot in between your legs.

both of you sit breathless with the sound of your forgotten movie still playing and being the only thing to fill the silence.

“you can taste it if i can taste you, too.”

“a deal?” he raises an eyebrow as if he’s open to negations. “other than the obvious, what’s really in it for me?”

of course he never misses an opportunity to play coy.

“keep making me feel good…” your thumb swipes along his bottom lip. “and maybe you’ll find out. or are you too scared?”

you sure were bold to offer up another challenge like this. and he could show you better than he could promise that this time, he wouldn’t go easy.

a/n: ofc i haaaddd to write about that picture. i’m so obsessed with it. like i was genuinely imagining this…. i almost felt it—AND, i know we can’t really tell if he’s ooc or not but if you think he’s ooc… DON’T TELL ME!!!!!!! valko baby, you’re ALIVE over here. they can’t take you from me. i hope you enjoyed, my cuties. MWAH MWAH!!!

creds to @/pepsipoet for the scalloped dividers!!

[luvyizhou]

18+ mdni | nsfw creator xav pt 2!!! ty guys for ur feedback hehe ily

CW. X link (vid of a shirtless guy), m+f masturbation, mentions of breeding/making you a housewife, sexting, nudes, mutual masturbation, oral (f), fingering, squirting, missionary, rough sex, restraints? (he holds you by the wrists w one hand), whimpering, creampie, cum eating, overstimulation

pt 1!!!

ever since finding out your neighbour was secretly xoxolumiere, life had become a living nightmare. not because he was weird or creepy—quite the opposite, actually.

the problem was that now you couldn’t look at him without remembering exactly what his voice sounded like moaning into a microphone. and once you’d become painfully aware of your neighbour’s existence, he started showing up absolutely everywhere.

your last mailbox rendezvous was a rare occurrence, but now he was there every time you went to check the mail, greeting you with that stupidly cute eye smile and a faint blush that seemed to ask are we okay?

it wasn’t just the apartment complex, either—you started seeing him in other places too. you’d be at the grocery store, pushing your cart toward the snack aisle only to find him standing in front of the crackers, brows furrowed in deep concentration like he was making a life altering decision.

even that would’ve been bearable if not for his complete and utter lack of shame about the whole situation. maybe he still didn’t know you spent far too many nights with his voice in your headphones, or that you had post notifs turned on for his account—but surely he knew something.

what other reason could there possibly be for you to shove his mail against his chest and sprint for the elevator like your life depended on it?

after another week of expertly timing your trips downstairs to avoid him, you decided enough was enough. you were an adult, and this whole thing was ridiculous.

you were developing the world’s most embarrassing parasocial crush on a man who also happened to live two floors above you. the obvious solution was to stop feeding into it.

no more listening to his audios before bed, no more checking twitter every few hours, and definitely no more wondering if the footsteps in the hallway belonged to him.

this was healthy, this was normal—this was what emotionally stable people did…but god, you were gonna miss his voice.

with the determination of someone getting rid of evidence before the police arrived, you opened twitter, thumb hovering over the follow button.

“it’s for the best,” you muttered just before tapping it, staring at the screen for a moment before nodding to yourself. #growth. you really were gods strongest soldier.

in an attempt to commemorate your act of strength, you rewarded yourself with overpriced takeout. the universe on the other hand, rewarded you by making xavier step into the elevator just as the doors were closing.

“hi, starlight.”

a beat of silence passed as your ears began to burn.

“heyyyy…” you said a beat too long, somehow making the air ten times more awkward.

he glanced at the takeout bag in your hands before looking back at you.

“i love that place” he spoke, breaking the silence again. you huffed a polite laugh before shuffling your feet, wondering why this trip was taking so fucking long. “so um, i’ve been wanting to say thanks for bringing my mail by.”

your stomach dropped.

“oh, y-you don’t have to.”

“i do”. his voice was quieter than usual, almost hesitant. “i’m sorry if i did anything to make you feel uncomfortable.”

you blinked. “…what?”

“the other day…jus’ feel like i’ve been seeing you even less…not that i stalk you or anything. imagine, haha.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head as if to rewind the moment. there was something oddly vulnerable about him standing there, cheeks faintly pink, avoiding your eyes. guilt washed over you as you watched the shy man avert his gaze. against better judgment, you sighed.

“it’s not your fault, what you do online is your business. i guess i was just kinda caught off guard.”

he looked up, brows knit together.

“you know what i do online?”

oh. he didn’t say anything about that, did he?

“i mean—”

“how would you know what i do online, starlight?”

the elevator suddenly felt about three sizes too small as his stare intensified. “um…google?”

“…you follow me.”

“i don’t even use twitter” the words fell from your lips before you could stop them. you squeezed your eyes shut. “please forget i said that.”

the silence stretched just long enough for you to consider jumping down the elevator shaft. then, he laughed. not loudly—just a soft, surprised laugh, like he genuinely couldn’t help it. when you finally looked at him, he was smiling fondly.

“that explains a lot.”

you quirked an eyebrow, wondering if he somehow also knew your accounts name.

“the mail? and running away? you looked terrified.”

you blushed, rolling your eyes at his amused tone. “because i was!”

he bit the inside of his cheek, clearly trying and failing not to smile wider.

“i’m sorry.”

“you’re literally laughing while saying that.”

“yeah…i am.” he chuckled again, the air much lighter than it was previously.

“you’re enjoying this.”

“maybe a little.”

you groaned so dramatically the elderly woman waiting for the elevator gave you a concerned look once the doors opened. you brushed past xavier without another word, smiling in his direction once more before the elevator shut.

“goodnight, starlight.”

you didn’t answer, mostly because if you did he’d hear the embarrassing little squeak that threatened to come out.

—

three days.

you made it three whole days without checking his account. honestly, that had to be some sort of record.

unfortunately, on the fourth day curiosity won. you told yourself it was just to see if he’d posted anything and that you absolutely were not relapsing.

the first thing you saw was a video of xavier unzipping his hoodie just enough to reveal the shirtless torso underneath before letting it fall open completely.

you replayed the clip several times, noticing sweat droplets running down the sharp lines of his toned abdomen. your thighs squeezed together as you imagined running your nails down his muscles, watching how they’d flex and tense as he writhed beneath you. so caught up in your thoughts, you failed to stop the video from autoplaying to his next post, a new audio with the caption reading:

hot neighbour finally makes a move (praise, teasing, breeding)

your heart stopped. there was absolutely no way that was about you, right?

desperately searching for your earphones, you hastily shoved them into your ears and lied back to immerse yourself in the audio.

“starlight..” he whined in that needy voice you grew to love so much, “god, i’ve wanted this so bad, y’know that?”

you cheeks reddened as slick sounds joined the audio. “s-so fuckin’ tight…been thinking about this since you moved in. would see your pretty smiles and immediately get hard”

your breathing picked up as your eyes fluttered shut, the image of a breathless xavier hovering over you painted clearly in your mind.

he stuttered as the wet sounds of his hand working his slick cock moved faster. “bet ya think of me too, huh pretty? wanna know what i think about when i make these? ‘s always you…ngh, think about taking you in the elevator, pressing the emergency button and fucking you right there.”

you scrolled through the comments to avoid reaching down your pants and easing the ache that had formed, already dripping from just his words.

“baby i’m so close…please i can’t—fuck, starlight… can i please fill you up? let me put a baby in you, yeah? gonna make you such a pretty m-mommy angel, only thing ya gotta worry about is taking my loads and being a pretty lil housewife.”

his voice pitched up as he spoke, gasping for air as his words were replaced with loud grunts and moans.

the comments were filled with questions of if he was in heat or actively getting fucked—things you couldn’t help but find yourself agreeing to, wondering if his passion for this audio was caused by your accidental confession.

convinced by the too obvious title, you decided to message him from your nsfw alt.

luvxinghui: damn your neighbours lucky asf

luvxinghui: specifically the ones living in apt 670

luvxinghui: that bumped into you the other day and pretended they haven’t listened to your audios for the last 6 months

each second passed by with more regret filling you, wondering if this was sexual harassment. it wasn’t too late to just delete the account right? and you’ve been wanting to move anyway so this was a good enough—

xoxolumiere: Starlight?

xoxolumiere: Done being shy? Was worried U blocked me after that post :(

your heart raced reading the messages, quickly typing out a response before he changed his mind and thought you actually were a creep.

luvxinghui: nope unfortunately it only made me want u even more🙄

xoxolumiere: Oh yeah?

you typed and deleted several responses, thinking of how to keep the sexual tension until your phone buzzed with another message from him—a video.

heavy breathing immediately sounded from your phone as he quickly pumped his clothed cock twice, lifting his veiny hand to show his covered length twitching. a breathy curse left his lips before he chuckled, the video ending too soon for your liking. drool pooled in your mouth as you stared at the thumbnail for several minutes.

xoxolumiere: Like it? Fuck i’m already so hard

you wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming but decided against it. if you were asleep, you didn’t want this ending anytime soon.

luvxinghui: holy shit xav

xoxolumiere: U had me nervous. Thought I went 2 far.

luvxinghui: omg not at all the opposite actually like i need u inside me rn

xoxolumiere: Yeah? Ur si fuckin hot my star trll me morw?

you bit your lip, wondering if he was making the same pretty noises that had you weak or if these ones were different—special and reserved for you.

luvxinghui: why don’t u just come over so i can show you instead?

two checkmarks indicating your message was read appeared on the screen, leaving you alone as his typing bubbles disappeared. you refreshed the app several times, thinking maybe you missed a response until a sharp knock on your door shook your attention.

you threw your phone down before making your way to the door, preparing to send away whoever it was until you made eye contact with a flustered, very red xavier.

“h-hey, starlight. not sure if you really meant it but-”

you cut him off by pulling him towards you, pressing your lips on his and shutting the door behind him. your hands ran up his body before wrapping around his neck, lightly tugging at the hairs on the base of his neck while your tongue traced the seam of his lips.

his unresponsiveness had you slightly pulling away to check in until he pressed you closer, letting you feel his bulge against your abdomen. his tongue wrapped around yours before exploring the rest of your mouth, groaning into the kiss when you completely submit to him.

his length pressed against you with every little shift, a growl leaving his throat as he finally picked you up and wrapped your legs around him, carrying you to the living room couch.

“can’t believe this is fucking real” he whispered, breath fanning against your lips as he spoke. you tried pressing forward for another kiss but were stopped by him throwing you onto the soft sofa, immediately laying between your legs and resuming his previous attack on your mouth.

you arched into his touch when he trailed his lips down your neck and nipped at your collarbone, gasping as he took both your wrists in one hand and pinned them above you.

“feel that?” he questioned, pressing the outline of his cock against your clothed cunt and watching you nod furiously in his hold. “it’s all for you, my star. i’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

you swallowed anxiously and whined his name, barely getting it out before he harshly kissed you again. you felt one hand keep yours together as the other trailed down your body, teasing the waistband of your pants and laughing at the way you trembled.

“x-xav…can you um…”

he cocked his head to the side before humming inquisitively, waiting for you to continue. “can i…? what do you want? want me to finger you? lick that pretty cunt? or do you want me to choose?”

your cheeks flushed a deeper red at his lewd words, shrugging the best you could as a response to the borderline insane question. he watched you for a few more moments before letting you go, clicking his tongue and kneeling back while palming his bulge. your hands ran up his front in effort to bring him back towards you to no avail, his towering figure shaking you off with a single push backwards.

“y’know…you’ve heard me touch myself a lot. i remember seeing your account when i like first started the account.” a smug grin formed on his face when you quickly looked away in shame. “now you want me to take the lead here too? that’s not fair, is it?”

you looked up with a pout, focused on the way he bit his lip while staring down at you. “you ever touch yourself while listening?”

he watched as you nodded, hands starting to fidget with the hem of your shirt. finally, he sat back and pushed his hand below his pants, stroking himself below his sweats as he stared at you. “wanna see you do it again, in front of me this time.”

you gasped at the request, about to refuse until he laughed in such a mean way. “be a good girl and do it while i’m asking, yeah? i could make you do it if i wanted—d’you really think you’d be able to push me off?”

your heart raced at the implication, hands shaking as they undid the tie keeping your pants up. he helped you slide them all the way down before watching you spread your legs, a dark spot already forming at the centre of your underwear.

a deep groan of his spurred you on, your nervous fingers finally moving to your cunt and applying just the right amount of pressure to your clit to have you throwing your head back in bliss. the sound of him spitting into his hand drew your attention once more, immediately snapping back to him as he started to beat his cock faster in the confines of his sweats.

“sh-shove your panties to the side. let me see how wet you get for me.”

you immediately obeyed, pulling the damp cloth away to reveal your glistening heat. he swallowed at the sight, a whine leaving his throat as he watched you run a digit up your warmth and pull away, a string of slick connecting your finger to your pussy.

xavier’s breathing picked up as his hand started a familiar rhythm of stroking his length before circling the tip with his palm. sweat beaded on his temple and ran down the length of his neck as his hips began to buck up to meet his thrusts. “xav…” you whined, circling your clit quicker as you watched his ministrations. his eyebrows furrowed in desperation at the pitchy tone you used to say his name, finally throwing him over the edge as he let out whimpers of your name.

you watched a damp spot form on his pants, his hand slowing down but never stopping as he continued to work himself to the point of overstimulation.

his chest heaved as he tried to calm himself, still pumping his length to semi hardness before finally looking at you once more. “fuck i’m so sorry, jus’ got so excited baby but we can still—“

you giggled at the post nut clarity, watching as he pulled his cum covered hand from his sweats and moved back towards you. “oh it’s funny huh? you think it’s funny how easy i am for you?”

you nodded before bringing his hand to your lips, licking the remainder of his seed from his fingers before responding. “mmm yup. pretty funny in my books”

he watched with bated breath before pushing you back down, kissing your lips and groaning at the taste of himself before pecking lower, moving between your thighs and looking up at you. “let’s see how funny it is when you’re cumming on my tongue in a couple minutes”

not giving you a chance to response, he licked from your entrance to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and applying a light pressure as he started to suck on it. your hands immediately buried in his platinum hair, tugging with every flick of his tongue against your sensitive nub.

he moaned against you while trying to makeout with your cunt, letting his tongue dip into your hole before running over the rest of your pussy once more. “xav, fuck…please” you whined, bucking your hips against his mouth and simultaneously pushing his head deeper into you.

“taste so fucking good…cum on my face baby please, i need to feel it” he mumbled into your heat, muffled by your desperate movements against his mouth. your cries increased in volume as he focused on the spot that had you crying, one hand moving to insert two fingers into your entrance. the sudden intrusion pushed you to the edge, climaxing on his face and squirting as he continued to scissor his fingers deep inside of you.

you shook below him as he continued to finger fuck you, completely entranced by the way you sprayed your fluid on him. once he was sure you couldn’t take anymore and were crying for him, he finally relented, moving to his previous position hovering over you.

“was that good?”

you tried to catch your breathing while glaring at him, staring incredulously at the ridiculous question. he laughed before leaning down and kissing you passionately, stealing any breath you managed to regain. “can i? please, starlight…”

you watched him pull his hard cock from his pants, pumping it and watching him spread the precum beading at the tip along the rest of his length. you nodded and watched as he reached into his pocket for protection, shaking while trying to rip the packet open only for you to knock it out of his hands. “want it raw” you whined, relishing in the groan he let out before pushing his pants lower and kicking them off.

he rubbed his cock against your folds before finally pushing into you, girthy tip already enough to have you wincing in pain. “want me to stop?”

you quickly shook your head and heard him chuckle at the enthusiasm, pressing into you once more and falling to his elbows as he bottomed out.

the both of you moaned at the feeling, every vein of his long cock being massaged by your sensitive walls with each second that passed by.

“a-angel…cmon need you to relax for me”

his whines spurred you on, causing you to tighten around him even more. he pressed a kiss against your lips in efforts of distracting himself but only moved to a position that had him even deeper inside of you.

“fuck, baby i’m sorry, jus’ kick me if it’s too much” he spoke, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before withdrawing himself from you almost completely and shoving all the way back in, the tears springing from your eyes encouraging him to set a rapid pace.

“xav its so big” you cried, nails scratching down his back as he completely engulfed all your senses.

he pressed down on your lower abdomen, watching you gasp in surprise as he knelt back to fuck himself even deeper into you. “you’re taking it so fucking good, starlight. so warm for me”

each squeeze of your walls has him edging closer to release, trying desperately to stave it off by fisting his hand into the leather of your couch. the sound of his hips slapping against the backs of your thighs filled the room, each movement filling you with pleasure. your eyes trailed his body as he continued to fuck you, the flush from his face going all the way down his chest. beads of sweat ran between the muscles you were staring at on a screen just hours ago, every inhale he took accentuating the lines of his toned figure.

he set one leg on the ground to stabilize himself as he fucked you harder, hitting the spot that had you rapidly approaching your high. one hand grasped your tit harshly, slapping it before tweaking a nipple with all his strength. the rough movements finally pushed you over the edge, your sudden orgasm making him grip you tight enough to bruise.

he fucked you through your high, watching your body convulse below him with pleasure as he pushed your legs up and used the new position to thrust even harsher into you.

“tight little cunts gonna take it all right? lgonna fill you up and get you nice and round with my babies-shit-you like that huh? pretty girl wants to make me a daddy right? gonna get these tits nice and full with m-milk ohimcummingfucktakeitsogoodforme—“

his thrusts turned erratic before sloppily moving against your hips as he filled you up, spurt after spurt shooting into your womb while he muttered how good you’d look full of him. he laid above you for several minutes, trying to control his breathing before finally coming back up, pressing a gentle kiss to your mouth and moving down to watch you push his cum out of your entrance.

without another word he began to lick your heat, swallowing every drop of your shared cum with greedy moans. you rubbed your pussy against his face as he sucked every drop of his seed from you, only stopping when he was sure you were completely empty.

“wanna go again?”

© all work belongs to @luvyizhou on tumblr, 2026. do NOT use, repost, or feed any of my work into AI or other websites.

[luvyizhou]

18+ mdni | caleb’s mean but in the best way

CW. daddy kink, piv

i think caleb’s a sadist but not in the traditional way of inflicting physical pain—instead he likes embarrassing you. after years together he knows the little things that makes your palms clammy and heart race.

he notices every single reaction you have, like the gasps you let out when he comes up behind you to help grab a dish from a top shelf. its not just his length pressing into the curve of your ass that has you nervous, but also the fact his 6’2 frame engulfs you. you’re completely vulnerable around him, he can do and say anything and you’d have to take it—what other choice did you have?

there’s no running from the colonel.

right now was no different. caleb had you squished underneath him, your back rubbing against his chest every time he harshly thrusted into you. the wet sound of his skin slapping yours sounded through the room, lewd noises making you whine every time he bottomed out inside you.

he licked up the length of your neck, chuckling at the way your walls tightly squeezed around his length.

“f-feels…ngh really good” you moaned, earning a particularly hard slam of his pelvis against your ass, his cock bruising your cervix with every thrust.

“oh yeah? does it f-feel so good, baby?” he mocked, voice pitching up in tone when he mimicked your voice. you nodded furiously as he continued to fuck his cock past the tight muscles of your cunt. “cmon, tell me again. ya gonna cum for me? gonna cum on daddy’s big dick?”

you whined at the title he used for himself, insisting you call him it any time the two of you were alone. “yes daddy, please ‘m g-gonna…”

your voice trailed off as you felt pleasure building up in your stomach, heart racing as your high approached. just as you felt the initial shocks of your climax start to wash over you, caleb pulled himself completely away from you, flipping you onto your back and pinning your arms down on either side of you.

caleb clicked his tongue as your thighs squeezed together in search of stimulation, using his knees to keep your legs open for him. “didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?”

his eyes crinkled with laughter as tears streaked down your cheeks, a pout unconsciously forming on your lips. he cooed at the sight, immediately copying your action and watching the way your already reddened cheeks flushed even deeper. “aw, cmon baby don’t cry…y’know what to say if you want it”

you hesitantly nodded before just barely composing yourself, trying to work up the courage to say the words he was waiting for. “c-cay…daddy, please let me cum? wan’ you to fill me up while i cum for you”

a mean grin spread over caleb’s face, his lips pressing almost violently against yours while he lined his length up to your entrance. “wasn’t so hard, was it? now let daddy feel this pretty pussy cum, yeah?” he emphasized the title just as he pressed himself into you once more, resuming his previous pace with renewed vigour.

he brought his hands to the backs of your thighs, pressing them against your front to get more leverage to thrust into you. the new position had his happy trail grinding against your clit, immediately bringing you back to the peak of your climax.

your walls clamped around his length without warning, triggering both of your highs. caleb’s hips stuttered against yours as he continued to move in tandem with your body, a groan sounding from his throat before he collapsed onto you.

the sound of heavy breathing replaced your intense noises of pleasure as you both came down.

© all work belongs to @luvyizhou on tumblr, 2026. do NOT use, repost, or feed any of my work into AI or other websites.

[hinamie]

obligatory trailer ss redraw sketch :>

+ speedpaint

[ekay-i]

AppleStar or StarApple? 🤔

Anyway, here's cuntboy Xavier x Caleb. Full on Bluesky and Twitter.