jelie ౨ৎ twenty-two, she/her, sapphic, taurus sun. esfj 9w1. sweet on caleb xia, summertime, herbal tea, shoujo, & fashion.
Mike Driver
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Xuebing Du

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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
will byers stan first human second
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taylor price

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Peter Solarz
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
d e v o n
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Kiana Khansmith

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tannertan36
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@xiatism
jelie ౨ৎ twenty-two, she/her, sapphic, taurus sun. esfj 9w1. sweet on caleb xia, summertime, herbal tea, shoujo, & fashion.
oh how i missed your writing sweet jel <33 the way you write caleb genuinely breaks my heart like im a widow gazing longingly at a photo of him in a rusted heart locket
i missed u guys more than ever ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ what a beautiful way to describe our caleb T_T ur too kind
pseudocest, soooo much guilt and yearning i need lobotomized
the nightmare still clings to your skin when you wake up gasping. your heart is racing, the cold metal tables and echoing hallways lingering in the edges of your mind even as you sit up in the dark. the room feels too big, too empty. unsafe. your feet move before your brain can catch up, padding down the hallway like they have a hundred times before, since you were small and scared and he was the only safe place in the world.
caleb’s door is already cracked open, like he’s been waiting for you even in his sleep. you slip inside, the hem of your nightgown brushing your thighs as you climb into his bed. he stirs the second your weight dips the mattress. heavy-lidded eyes blink open, still foggy with sleep, but the moment he sees your tear streaked face, his arms open without hesitation.
“c’mere, pips,” he murmurs, voice low from sleep.
you crawl into his lap like you always have, curling into his chest, legs straddling his hips as you tuck your face into his neck. fresh tears slip down your cheeks and wet his skin. he’s so warm. so solid. his big arms wrap around you immediately, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other rubbing slow, soothing circles along your spine.
“bad one?” he asks softly, lips brushing your temple.
you nod, burying your face further in the crook of his neck. he smells like home—like faint soap and clean cotton and something that’s always been just him. his arms tighten around you, strong and steady, holding you like he can shield you from every bad dream you’ve ever had.
minutes pass like that. just you trembling in his lap, his arms around you, his quiet breathing against your hair. you feel safe here. safer than anywhere else in the world.
something restless and warm blooms low in your stomach, spreading through your chest until it almost hurts. you need more. you need him closer. you need his mouth on yours so badly it claws at your ribs, sharp and aching. you pull back just enough to look at him. his eyes are soft in the dark, heavy-lidded and patient, watching you with that endless care he’s had for you since you were children.
you’re still sniffling, tears clinging to your lashes, but you can’t stop yourself. you lean in slowly, hesitantly, your breath shaky. your mouth presses to his. it’s messy, clumsy—you’re desperate for comfort and something you still don’t have a name for after a lifetime of aching for it. it’s not a smooth kiss. it’s wet from your tears, a little off-center, your lips trembling as they meet his.
pseudocest if u don’t squint at all actually hi
the old fan in caleb’s room turns in slow circles above you both, pushing warm night air across the bed like it’s trying to cool something that refuses to be cooled. you’re sitting cross-legged on his mattress, a little ways from him, picking at a loose thread on your sleep shorts. the question has been sitting on your tongue for nearly fifteen minutes now.
you finally blurt it out, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. “caleb, if he tries to kiss me tomorrow night… what am i supposed to do?”
he goes perfectly still. for a long moment, the only sound in the room is the low mechanical hum of the fan. inside his chest, something sharp and ugly coils tight. some stupid guy leaning in, thinking he has any right to taste you? the image makes caleb’s jaw ache. he forces his voice to stay even, almost lazy.
“you don’t have to do a single thing,” he says carefully. “consent matters more than anything else. there’s no timer on this stuff. if you’re not ready, you tell him no. he can deal with it or he can leave. simple.”
you nod, but your fingers keep worrying the thread. “i know. i just… what if i want to kiss him? what if i’m awful at it and i make it awkward?”
caleb’s hand tightens around the blanket beside his thigh. he stares at the far wall for several heartbeats, breathing slow through his nose. “you’re not going to be awful,” he says, quieter.
“but how do i know for sure?” you look up at him, eyes wide and genuinely anxious. “i’ve never kissed anyone. not like… properly. i don’t wanna mess it up.”
another long, heavy silence stretches between you. he rubs a hand down his face, then drops it. “you really want advice?”
you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek. he exhales, “i could show you. just the basics. so you’re not overthinking it tomorrow.”
your heart stutters hard. heat floods your face. deep down, yes — you have wanted this for longer than you would ever admit out loud, but you keep your voice small. “just practice? like… a couple of kisses? nothing weird?”
caleb’s eyes flick to your mouth, then away. “yeah. just practice.”
he shifts closer on the bed until your knees are almost brushing. the space between you suddenly feels fragile, like it might shatter if either of you breathes wrong. “okay,” he murmurs. “first one is easy. no pressure at all.”
he leans in with agonizing slowness, giving you every chance to pull back. his lips brush yours in the gentlest, softest peck. barely any pressure. just warmth. he lingers for two full seconds, then eases away.
you touch your own lips without thinking. “um… where should i put my hands?”
“wherever feels natural,” he answers, gaze steady on you. “my shoulders. my chest. you can even leave them in your lap if you want. no rules.”
you hesitate, then rest your hands lightly on his shoulders. the muscle under your palms is warm and tense.
“good,” he praises softly. “want to try it again?”
you nod, and this time, the kiss lasts three seconds. his lips are fuller, warmer. when he pulls back, you feel yourself leaning forward the tiniest bit, mouth chasing his.
“was that better?” you whisper.
“yeah,” his voice has a new roughness under it. “you’re doing fine. want to try tilting your head just a little?”
“can you show me how?”
he lifts one hand, slow, and cups your jaw with careful fingers, tilting your head a fraction. the next kiss is still closed-mouth, but it lingers longer. five seconds. you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. when he finally draws back, his thumb strokes once along your cheekbone.
“better?” he asks.
your pulse is louder in your ears now. “yeah… one more? just so i remember the angle?”
caleb’s eyes have gone darker. he wets his bottom lip without meaning to. “alright,” he says. “one more.”
his lips part the smallest amount against yours. you feel the brief, warm touch of his tongue against your lower lip before he catches himself and pulls back, breathing a little harder.
“sorry,” he murmurs, forehead almost touching yours. “that’s… we don’t have to go there if you’re not comfortable. he better not be kissing you like that on the first date.”
you’re quiet for a long second, heart hammering so loudly you’re sure he can hear it. then, barely louder than a breath, “show me anyway?”
caleb’s eyes darken another shade. he stays perfectly still for several heartbeats, like he’s giving you one last chance to take it back. when you don’t, he exhales shakily and cups your jaw again, thumb stroking slow along your cheek. “okay,” he murmurs. “just a little.”
this time, when he leans in, his lips part against yours right away. the kiss is still gentle, but wetter. warmer. his tongue brushes your bottom lip in a slow, deliberate swipe, asking for permission. you part your lips without thinking and he slips inside, just the tip of his tongue touching yours—soft, careful, testing.
he pulls back after only a few seconds, forehead resting against yours, breathing a little heavier. “like that,” he whispers. “not too much at once. you okay?”
you nod, dazed, hands tightening on his shoulders. “uh huh. kiss me again? don’t think i’m getting it.”
caleb lets out a quiet, strained sound that might have been a laugh, his thumb still stroking your cheek like he can’t stop touching you. “sure, pips. again.”
he kisses you once more, open-mouthed from the start. this time, his tongue slides against yours more confidently. slow, warm, exploring, the kiss is wetter than the last, lips sliding together with soft, obscene little sounds. when he tilts his head the other way and deepens it, you make a tiny involuntary noise into his mouth.
he pulls back again, barely an inch, lips still brushing yours. “good?” he asks, voice hoarse.
“mhm,” you pant against his lips. “what do i do with my tongue? i feel like i’m just sitting there.”
his eyes flutter half-closed. “you can move it too. lick into my mouth. play with mine. whatever feels good.”
you hesitate, then lean in yourself this time. it’s clumsy at first, but he meets you halfway, letting you explore. tongues sliding, slow and curious. he groans softly when you shyly lick into his mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips. when you break apart again, your faces are only inches away, both of you breathing harder. a thin string of spit connects your bottom lips for a second before it breaks. you lean in for more before you can overthink it.
he pulls you a little closer by the waist this time, until your knees are pressed against his thigh. the next kiss is deeper, slower, filthier. his tongue strokes against yours in long, deliberate slides. lips suck gently, then harder. the wet sounds of your mouths moving together fill the quiet room as the kisses start to blur into one another.
every time you pull back to breathe, he follows—chasing your mouth, sucking on your lower lip, licking back inside like he can’t stand even a second apart. his hand stays cupped around your jaw, thumb stroking, while the other rests heavy on your hip. you’re both flushed, both breathing through your noses because neither wants to stop long enough to pull away properly. the kisses grow messier, spit-slick and desperate. soft little whimpers slip from you between kisses and he answers every one with a low groan, tongues tangled.
caleb tilts his head the other way and kisses you even deeper, tongue sliding and curling against yours in filthy, rhythmic strokes. spit coats your lips, drips down your chin onto his. you’re both a mess and neither of you cares. you just keep licking into each other’s mouths like you’ve been starving for this exact taste for years.
he groans long and low when you suck on his tongue in return. the sound is so raw it makes you clench around nothing. he pulls you fully into his lap, hands gripping your hips as he kisses you like he’s been dying for the chance to for years. your tongues slide and curl in long, wet strokes, lips smacking obscenely with every tilt of your heads. he sucks on your tongue, licks deep into your mouth, groans low and broken when you do the same. your hands are tangled in his hair, tugging gently, and he answers by rocking you against his thigh, the hard line of his cock pressing against you through his sweatpants while he keeps devouring you.
when you finally break apart, you’re both panting hard, foreheads pressed together, lips shiny and swollen and connected by thick strands of spit. caleb’s eyes are nearly black, his breathing ragged. he brushes his thumb over your wet bottom lip, voice hoarse and wrecked. “think you’ve practiced enough for tomorrow?”
you don’t answer right away. you lean in and press one last kiss to his mouth, tongues swirling one final time before you pull back.
caleb stares at you, chest heaving, like he’s two seconds from dragging you back in. “did so good, pips,” he whispers, thumb still stroking your lip. “you’re gonna do just fine tomorrow.”
virgin!caleb cries the moment he’s finally inside you. a shaky cry catches in his throat, tears slipping down his flushed cheeks before he can stop them. he’s nestled deep inside you, thick and pulsing, while your walls squeeze around him so tight it makes his head spin. his hands grip the undersides of your thighs hard enough to bruise, fingers digging in as he tries to keep from cumming on the spot.
“feels s’good, baby,” he whimpers into the crook of your neck, voice cracking between hiccups and soft moans. “too good—ngh—g-gonna cum if you keep squeezin’ me like that—”
his spit and tears smear across your skin as he hides his face there, too overwhelmed to trust himself to come out and face you. when he presses your thigh higher up your chest, the new angle lets him sink even deeper. the head of his cock bumps right against your cervix and he shudders violently, another broken sob leaving him.
he can’t stop kissing you. open-mouthed and messy, he trails wet kisses between your breasts, nips at your neck, then finds your lips again like he’ll die if he doesn’t. after years of wanting, of holding back, he finally has you wrapped around him and he’s greedy for every inch of you—tongue, teeth, breath, all of it.
“waited so long for this,” he mumbles against your mouth, hips twitching as he fights not to cum too fast. “love you. love you sooo much—”
the first slow thrust drags out of you like molasses, thick and heavy, pulling a wrecked little sound from deep in his chest. “oh god, pips—” he hiccups, forehead pressed to yours, eyes glassy and wet. “you’re so warm. so fucking tight around me.”
his hips roll again, devastatingly slow, letting you feel every inch as he sinks back in. his hands roam everywhere, squeezing your thighs, sliding up to grip your waist, one palm dragging up to cup your breast and thumb across your nipple like he needs to touch all of you at once.
“been dreamin’ about this every night,” he babbles against your lips between thrusts, voice all cracked and sweet. “for years, pips. thought about how you’d feel, how you’d sound—fuck, ’s so much better than i imagined. squeezin’ me so good i can’t think straight—”
another slow, deep grind has the head of his cock kissing your cervix again and his breath hitches hard. tears keep slipping down his cheeks, mixing with the sweat on his skin as he mouths at your jaw, your neck, anywhere he can reach. one hand slides down between you, clumsy but eager, thumb brushing over your clit in messy little circles while he keeps that torturously slow pace.
“tell me it feels good for you, too,” he pleads softly, hips rolling deep again, voice breaking on a moan. “please—need to hear you, baby.”
your praise hits him like lightning, “feels s’good, ’leb,” and he moans shamelessly against your neck, loud and broken, hips stuttering hard as fresh tears slip down his cheeks.
“swear?” he whimpers, voice wrecked and hopeful, pressing open-mouthed kisses all over your skin. “just wanna make you feel good. been waitin’ so long to make you cum on me like this.”
he gets this look in his eyes, like nothing else exists except you and the way your body reacts to him. his thumb keeps circling your clit in tighter, faster strokes while his cock drags slow and heavy against that perfect spot inside you. his other hand stays on your thigh, spreading you wider so he can watch every inch disappear inside you. “wanna feel you. wanna watch you fall apart on my cock. please—need it so bad.”
when you finally tip over the edge, clenching hard around him, caleb’s soul practically leaves his body. his eyes go wide, lips parted in a silent gasp as he watches you cum—really watches, drinking in every twitch, every flutter, every broken sound that leaves your mouth. a raw, choked moan rips out of him, like the sight alone is enough to ruin him forever.
“oh fuck—baby, you’re milkin’ me,” his voice cracks, hips losing rhythm as he fucks you through it, slow and deep and greedy. the second your orgasm starts to fade he’s begging, voice hoarse and desperate. “can i—? please let me cum, please—can’t hold it anymore. been soooo good for you, please—”
the moment you nod fervently, he shatters. his whole body locks up as he buries himself to the hilt, a broken sob tearing from his throat while thick ropes of cum flood you. “thank you—thank you, baby—fuck, thank you—” he keeps chanting it like a prayer, hips jerking with every pulse, tears streaming down his face as he presses sloppy, grateful kisses all over your mouth, your cheeks, your neck. “thank you for lettin’ me have you. thank you, thank you—”
he collapses on top of you, still buried deep, trembling and panting, arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go. soft little thank you’s keep slipping out between kisses against your skin while his heart hammers against yours.
i offer u crybaby virgin caleb as my debut on this blog