caleignii

[caleignii]

Comfort Session with Caleb

When you're having a rough day at work or in any other circumstance in life, Caleb is the kind of guy who will make you feel special. As he pats your head and soothes you with loving words, he sits comfortably on the couch with you straddling him. Complaining how tirelessly work has been and how everything suddenly seems to turned against you, it was too much!

“If I could take your pain and scatter it across the stars, I would. But for now… let me just be here. You don’t have to say a word. Just let me stay.” he says.

When you're speaking he will just suddenly kiss you on the lips, the kiss leading into a makeout. Caleb leaning in, lips brushing against yours. You couldn't help but closed your eyes, lips parting slightly, inviting him in. As he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. Just pure makeout in silence.

He didn't just makeout with you just out of lust or just because he was horny, it's his simple way of reminding you that he'll be your anchor in life—no matter how heavy the problem is. When he does that, all of your heart's aches and sorrows seem to ease.

“Shh. It’s okay to stop fighting for a minute. Breathe with me. Just breathe.”

Your body responding like it has a mind of its own, hands moving to his waist, pulling him closer.

As your kisses grew more passionate, breathing ragged. Caleb's hands moved to your breasts, cupping them gently through your top. Feeling the coziness and relaxation, as he kneads his hands to your plump breasts.

The ache didn’t go away, not entirely. But the grief softened its grip, like a hand unclenching in sleep. It lingered, yes—but no longer screamed. Now it whispered, and even in the whisper, there was room enough to breathe.

Your pain wasn’t expelled, just redistributed—like pressure in a sealed system. But comfort worked its way in anyway.

I've come to think of it that it'll last for almost an hour! Both of him and your's lips looking swollen as if something has stung it, as you both repeatedly bite one other's lips a countless time.

“You don’t have to handle it alone anymore. I’m here.”

[caleignii]

Gamer!Caleb/Fan!Reader

mentions of: smut, fingering, pussy eating lol, p in v, possessive behavior, creampie, jealousy, cumming, breeding, masturbation, rough sex, orgasm, praising kink, sexual overstimulation, caleb is totally a pervert.

summary: as he came to your coffee shop one day, you never thought that you'll meet your favorite streamer caleb?!

a/n: LOLOLOL, OMG HAPPY JUNELEBBB. I've been lazy for almost twoo weeks WHAAAT??? UGHH idek what to do neext. This one is my longest fic so faarr so have fun readingg! Might post the part two of PossessiveMechanic!Caleb tomorrow lolll, stay tuned!!!

A soft ding was heard on your phone.

As you are currently in the kitchen looking for some snacks, you turned to check your phone. A “Mid night stream since y'all fav streamer had been busy from Cappleb” was shown on the notifications not long ago.

Since your favorite streamer, Caleb, or should we call him Cappleb, hasn't been online for nearly four days, you're thrilled and your excitement is visible on your face.

Before you knew his page, you were busy scrolling into Chrome, when the phone suddenly jumped on your hands landing towards your face.

His adorable face, which nearly looked like a puppy due to his eyes, was what drew your attention when you unintentionally clicked on a few tabs and found his page.

At first, you enjoyed watching him stream about his gaming activities. It was clear that he loved airplanes so much that he occasionally even makes replicas of little aircraft instead of his usual gaming streams. Some airplanes on a shelf that can be seen in his background were precisely aligned and appeared to have been well-maintained.

After you become comfy with him, as you haven't missed any of his streams, you began interacting with him in his comments by asking, "How are uuuuu??” or occasionally making remarks about how accurate and skilled he is when playing Valorant.

Feeling flustered when he notices your little comment, “Doin' pretty well angel, how 'boutcha?”

After awhile, you came to the position of one of his most top fans, and a badge next to your name that notifies him anytime you sign up for his streams. Sometimes if your wallet is feeling a bit too full, you'd send him some stars to fund his streams.

cutiaples [Top Fan 🍎]: sent 1000 stars! ⭐⭐⭐

“WHAT IN THE HOLY GYAAAAT! That's a lottt.” he stopped in his game to look in the comments.

cutiaples [Top Fan 🍎]: you've been playing nonstop for 4 hours, thought this would make u smile cute boy ;3

“Wait-wait-wait, my mind's still processing... Thank you so much baby!!!” you were stunned when he called you baby, blood immediately rising to your cheeks.

The look on his face is everything, slightly widened eyes, corner of his lips turning upwards, and the way he giggles. It made you feel like your stomach was moving around.

Right now, when you clicked on the notifications that directed you to his stream, you saw him wearing a black sweatshirt that fits him perfectly and headphones resting around his neck. You observed him as he is presently working on finishing his desktop so that his game may be seen.

You can't help but be impressed by his features, including his fluffy hair, the way his brows move unintentionally, and the way his Adams apple rises and falls with each swallow. The fact that he looks so good without even trying makes you blush.

The whole time you just watch him playing some silly game, laughing off when he does something funny.

Saying farewell to his viewers as he stopped his stream at around 4:00 AM, and you forgot that you still had work to do in the morning.

“Y'aaall don't miss me muuch! Bye-byeee!” his smile is clearly warming, along with his eyes that threaten to close in any second.

You were clearly sleep deprived after staying up all night, as evidenced by your drooping eyes and distracted thoughts. You have repeatedly tried blinking forcefully in the hopes that it might reduce your drowsiness, but it has didn't worked.

“A cup of large iced-americano and a slice of apple-pie, order coming up!” you came back to your senses hearing your manager's instruction.

As you brew the coffee yourself you can't help but to yawn.

“Didn't sleep much huh? Who kept you up all night? Wish that was me tho” your coworker Frank commented.

“None of your business, get back to work we aren't supposed to be chatting, do you want us to get scolded or what.” you shot him back clearly annoyed.

“Jeeezz calm down, here's the apple-pie by the way. Serve it to table fourteen.”

When you reached the designated table, dropping the tray onto the table to a man wearing a cap looking slightly suspicious by how cautious he is acting.

“Here's your large iced-americano along with an apple-pie lemme know if you need something else, enjoy your order!”

“Excuse me, Miss? I think there's something missing in my order.”

As you turn back, you can't help but feel a sense of familiarity against him.

“May I see your receipt please?” when he handed the slightly crumbled paper, you caught a glimpse of his face under the cap he was wearing.

CALEB!?

IS IT REALLY HIM?

“S-sure, it seems like the Lemon chiffon cake is missing. Let me get it for you right ahead” When you returned to the kitchen you tried to think of something else. What if he just looks like him? It'll be embarrassing if I straight up greet him, right?

“Im sorry for our mistake, here's your Lemon chiffon cake Sir. Is there anything else you need?”

“Nopee but thanks anyway!”

You swore share the same voice!

“Clean up table six!” as you came back to your senses you proceeded to go back working.

Following a long day, you were left to clear the final two tables. As you reached to pick it up, you noticed something gleaming beneath the table that definitely drew your attention. Someone appears to have dropped this wallet. A brown pocketbook with blue and orange accents on the edges, as well as the tiny apple charm that had been shining from the earlier sunlight.

You opened it to check for identification or documentation pertaining to the owner. When you opened it, there was $248 inside, along with a piece of lemon-flavored candy. Going on to eventually locate an ID.

Caleb Xia, 25 Years Old, Registered Pilot in the Deepspace Aviation Administration.

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest.

Caleb? It is him.

You stared at the ID, unable to look away. That soft smile in the picture, the same one you’d seen countless times during his streams, made everything click into place. Your hands trembled slightly as you clutched the wallet. What were the odds?

The wallet felt warm in your hands, still echoing traces of its owner.

Caleb.

Your breath caught when you saw his name—just a thin layer of leather and circumstance separating you from a person you’d admired for so long.

A streamer you watched religiously, heart fluttering at every “hey angel” typed to someone you assumed he'd never meet.

But now, he was here.

In your café.

Ordering lemon chiffon cake and smiling with those same crescent-moon eyes that used to light up your screen at 2 AM.

You didn’t say anything. How could you?

How could you tell him that the barista who brought his coffee was the same person who sent him stars with whispered admiration behind every coin?

That the girl wiping tables and yawning at dawn was the same voice that told him he was doing great mid-Valo match?

No.

You kept it to yourself.

You tucked his wallet safely into a sealed bag, placed it beneath the counter, and watched as the night slipped away like steam off hot coffee.

He came back the next morning, this time with his cap gone and a quiet confidence in his step.

“I think I left something behind,” he said.

You didn’t meet his eyes at first. You were afraid he’d see too much in yours.

“A brown wallet with a little apple charm, have you guys perhaps seen it?”

“Yeah,” you murmured, retrieving it for him. “We held it for you. Thought you might come back.”

“Thanks,” he said, eyes soft with gratitude. “Would’ve been a disaster if I lost it.”

You handed it over, your fingers brushing for a moment. He smiled, and something in your chest lurched.

He started showing up more often after that.

Sometimes for the lemon chiffon. Sometimes for the espresso.

But after a while, you noticed—he didn’t even pretend to look at the menu anymore.

He came to talk.

"Rough night?" he'd ask, noticing your eye bags.

"Yeah, just… couldn’t sleep."

Couldn't? No, you wouldn't sleep cuz he was streaming til 3AM.

"You too, huh?"

He’d sit by the window while the sun stretched across the floor like golden thread. You’d steal glances while pouring milk, wiping counters, pretending not to notice how the light caught in his hair.

You learned things.

He loved planes—real ones.

Not just models. Not just flight sims. He had studied aviation since he was sixteen. He told you about his training, the nights he’d sleep under textbooks, the mornings he’d wake up with paper cuts and dreams of blue skies.

“I wanted to fly away from everything back then,” he admitted once, eyes far away.

You wanted to ask what he was flying from—but you didn’t. Some silences are more sacred than sound.

He became a part of the place. A low hum in your routine.

Sometimes you’d sit across from him after your shift, swapping stories over lukewarm pastries.

You'd tell him about your dream to study design, about how this café was only a stepping stone. He listened, chin in his hand, like every word you spoke mattered.

But still, he didn’t know.

Didn’t know that after your shifts, you raced home, slipped into your blanket cocoon, and waited for his stream to go live.

Didn’t know you still logged in as cutiaples, heart skipping when he read comments, even if they weren’t yours.

You were greedy for the version of him that was just yours, outside the glowing screen.

Then one night, it happened.

He mentioned you on stream.

“There’s this girl,” he said suddenly, eyes flicking nervously to the side of the camera. “She works at this café I go to. She's… cool. Funny. And she listens.”

The chat lit up instantly.

BabyzAyneee: OHHHH HE’S IN LOVE

ladsADICTS [Top Fan 🍎]: SHE BETTER NOT HURT U CAP

calebxsmuncherr: drop the @ drop the @ drop the @

He chuckled, rubbing his neck.

“I dunno. It’s weird. She has no idea who I am, which is kinda… nice.”

You froze.

He didn’t know.

Of course he didn’t.

You didn’t comment.

You didn’t even log in.

You just watched. Quietly.

Because he wasn’t talking to cutiaples anymore. He was talking about you.

The real you.

The one with frizzy hair after a twelve-hour shift. The one who spilled oat milk once on his sleeve. The one who laughed a little too hard at his dumb plane puns.

The next day, you found him waiting before your shift even started.

“Hey,” he said, holding something behind his back.

“What’s that?”

He revealed a small gift bag. “Don’t get excited, it’s dumb. But I found this apple that reminded me of you.”

You peeked inside.

Green apple.

You stared up at him, and in your chest, something cracked open.

“Do you believe in coincidences?” you asked softly.

He tilted his head. “Like... destiny wearing a fake mustache?”

You laughed, even though your heart was pounding.

“I have something to tell you,” you said.

And there, beneath the humming of espresso machines and clink of ceramic mugs, you told him.

“I know you” you blabbered.

You told him everything.

That you were cutiaples. That you’d been watching since before you met. That you were terrified of how real this all became.

He was quiet.

Then he smiled. Slowly. Softly. Like sunrise after a storm.

“No wonder your username felt... familiar.”

“You’re not mad?”

He shook his head. “Mad? No. Just kinda stunned.”

You both sat there, letting the world fall away.

Then he added, “So… my top fan’s the same girl I’ve been falling for. That’s kinda poetic, don’t you think?”

After bumping into each other again—this time intentionally, as he started frequenting the café “for the pie”—you exchanged numbers. Conversations grew from small talk into long, late-night texts. He’d occasionally send you a meme or a blurry pic of the model airplane he was working on with the caption:

“Don’t laugh at its nose 😤”

You’d tease him playfully and call him “Captain Puppyboy” just to fluster him. Eventually, he invited you to co-stream with him—just for fun. Nervous, you agreed.

The chat exploded when you appeared on stream beside him for the first time, cozy on his couch.

OrbitingYourHeart: cutiaples in the flesh???

GalaxyGf4Hire: WAIT THEY’RE SITTING SO CLOSE

Iwmiwmeow: SHIP CONFIRMED??

giDIEon [Top Fan 🍎]: IM JEALOUS BROOO

You both laughed it off, but neither of you denied anything.

As you both play, currently focused on delivering content in real time while managing interactions. Caleb noticed some comments.

frankieer: YOOOOOO, remember that time we almost dated? Wild days. Didn't know yer meeting w some guy now.

He read it aloud, which caused him to lose focus on the game. You, however, forced you to look at what he was reading.

“Who was that?” you paused the game.

“I dunno, i guess some random dude. D'you know him?”

“Lemme see... frankiee?? Frank? The hell are you saying?” the annoyance in your voice alarmed his mind.

“Who's that babe?” he automatically raises an eyebrow, as you've never mentioned someone naming 'Frank' before.

“He's my coworker, flirting with me at any chance he gets.” his head turned back to the screen as his eyebrows knitted together.

“Yeah right.” you couldn't tell the expression on his face,

He turned off his screen so fast, livestream off, tabs off, mic muted, everything, leaving the viewers dumbfounded and shocked.

“Baby—” you were interrupted when he abruptly jolted you into his arms and took you to your shared bedroom.

“Caleb, baby I swear that wasn't true. Please don't believe him. Babe I'm sorryyyy.” while he laid you down on the bed, attempting to coo him.

“You know that you're mine right?” as you nodded to his response.

“Then allow me to further claim you.” as he smashed his soft lips with yours, calloused fingers roaming around the curves of your body. Caleb lifted you up, legs wrapping around his waist.

The kiss went deeply, his fingers tangling in your hair. He could taste himself on your lips, could feel your breath against his skin.

He unclasped youe bra, his mouth capturing one nipple. He sucked and licked, his hand teasing the other. Your breathing quickened, hands tangling in his hair.

“Caleb I want more, please” as the heat in your inner thighs began throbbing.

“And who am I to decline? My pretty baby wants more hmmm?” smirk showing on his lips. “Yes, yes pleasee?”

Caleb complied, his other hand slipping under her skirt to find you wet and ready. He groaned as his fingers slipped inside, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in slow, circular motions.

Your hips bucked against his hand, breath coming in ragged gasps. "Caleb," you moaned, head falling back. "You feel so good."

Caleb's fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. "You're so wet," he growled. "I can't wait to taste you."

As your eyes flew open, gaze locked onto Caleb's. "Yes," you breathed, voice filled with desperation. "Please."

Caleb withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking on them slowly. Eyes darkened with desire as you watched him, body aching for his touch.

Caleb leaned down, his mouth finding her wetness. He licked slowly, his tongue exploring every inch of your gummy walls. You gasped, hands fisting in his hair as you ground herself against his face.

"Oh God, Caleb," you moaned, hips moving in time with his tongue. "Right... ngghhh there, yes."

Caleb sucked on your clit, his fingers sliding back inside of you. Fingers moving in and out, his thumb pressing against your g-spot. Your body tensed, breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Caleb," your cried out, orgasm crashing over like a wave. "Yes, yes, yes."

Caleb didn't stop, his mouth and fingers continuing to work until you were boneless and panting. He kissed his way back up to your body, his lips finding yours in a passionate kiss.

When you wrapped your legs around him, hands working at his belt. "I want you inside me," you murmured against his lips.

He groaned, his cock hard and aching. As he pushed the skirt up, his fingers finding the wetness once again. He slipped two fingers inside, thumb rubbing your little button that has a bundle of nerves.

"You're ready for me," he growled, voice thick with desire. "You're so ready for my cock."

As you nodded, eyes locked onto his. "Yes, I am," you whispered. "Give it to me, Caleb."

Caleb withdrew his fingers, his cock taking their place. He pushed inside slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Haaaah... baby so biigg nghhh” nails digging into his back as you adjusted to his size.

“You feel so good,” Caleb murmured, his hips moving in slow, shallow thrusts.

”So tight and wet.”

You wrapped your legs around him tighter, hips moving in time with his. "Harder," you whispered, voice filled with desperation. "Fuck me harder, Caleb."

His hips moving faster, his cock slamming into your walls with force.

“Fuuuuckk” body moving in time with his.

"Yes, yes," you cried out, head falling back. "Right there, don't stop."

Caleb's hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pounded into you. The room filled with the sounds of their bodies slapping together, moans and groans echoing through the apartment.

"You feel so good," Caleb growled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Your pussy is so tight around my cock."

His thrusts becoming faster, deeper. Your moans were louder now, body writhing beneath him. He could feel her getting closer, could feel her muscles tightening around him.

"Caleb," you gasped, "I'm close."

Your body is moving again, orgasm building once again. "Caleb," you cried out, body convulsing as you came. "Yes, yes, yes."

Caleb leaned down, his mouth capturing yours in a fierce kiss. He could feel her orgasm, could feel her body convulsing against his. He thrust into her a few more times before he came, his body shuddering with pleasure.

His hips slamming into yours. The bed creaked beneath them, bodies moving in perfect sync. "Fuck, yes," you cried, nails raking down Caleb's back.

Caleb's cock swelled inside you, his body tensing. "Baby ngggh," he groaned, his hips stuttering. You felt him pulse inside, his cock filling your pussy completely. Your own orgasm crashing over. Both of your bodies shook together, breaths ragged. When Caleb collapsed on top of fragile form, bodies slick with sweat.

Both lay together, bodies still joined. His cock softened inside, cum dripping out of your swelling cunt. You smiled, eyes locked on Caleb's. "Are you jellyy because of that??," you murmured. Caleb grinned, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "Hmmmp!" he pouted, his voice soft. Both stayed like that for a while, bodies entwined, their hearts beating as one.

You were no longer just cutiaples, his top fan.

You were his favorite person.

In every timeline.

On every stream.

And in every quiet, ordinary moment in between.

[caleignii]

calebcore (nsfw)

⭑.ᐟ "if you aren't sniffing her panties daily to check for ph balance changes, then what are you doing?"

we all know that caleb is a panty sniffer. and an avid one at that. but i’d like to believe that he’s a panty sniffer with a purpose! (other than getting his dick hard, of course.)

every single time you slip a pair off and put them in the hamper, he’s taking them out when you’re not in sight and analysing them. he checks what kind of discharge you’re having, even feels it to see if you’re ovulating yet (and when you are, he marks it in his calendar). then, he’ll take a whiff. whenever you try new foods, he can smell them. the slightest difference, maybe a tang depending on the food, but it’s still there.

if you’ve got a yeast infection, his nose knows. he can smell the intense acidity the minute he retrieves your discarded panties. armed with this knowledge, he’ll get you some medicine from the pharmacy and watch you take it. you’ll be stunned by how he knows when you only just realised. it’s because he’s a freak cares.

⭑.ᐟ "d'you need any pillows?" + "wait, let me get a pillow for your hips."

i’m still undecided about whether caleb is a dom, sub, or switch. he was leaking pre-cum just from seeing you naked in the cameras he’s got all over your apartment. he almost came on the spot the first time you touched his bare cock. and he did cum the moment he slid inside you for the first time.

but, he’s got these yandere tendencies which make me think he’s a dom.

and even if i’ll never know the answer to this conundrum, what i do know is that in bed, caleb prioritises your comfort in every position. he’ll always ask if you’re comfortable before pounding into you like a rabid pack animal (oh wait! he is one).

if you’re spoon-fucking, best believe he’s propping a pillow beneath your top knee so you’re more comfortable, and he has greater access to your clit. before he eats you out, he’ll lift you by your ankles and slip a pillow beneath your hips. on your knees with your ass up and face down? there’s a pillow against your cheek that you can scream into and cuddle with if you need it.

but if you do cuddle the pillow, i think caleb, despite being fucked out as he’s thrusting into you, would notice and immediately become jealous. he would start fucking you even harder, yapping about how much better he can hold you then some stupid pillow. it can’t even hug you back! not like caleb can. with his muscular arms and firm chest and meaty thighs.

when you’re at it but not in the bedroom, let’s say, on the kitchen counter or couch, he’s still checking in with you to make sure you’re at ease. i think he avoids bending you over the kitchen counter while naked because obviously when he ruts into you, you’ll shift forward, which is (i would imagine) ouchies for your boobs pressed against the bench top. it’s also painful for your hip bones, and i think hurting you during sex is such a deal breaker for caleb.

(because his whole thing is that he’s so in love with you and obsessed with you, right? he’s so grateful that you’re even giving him a chance. how could he hurt you, his precious girl? but he inevitably does because he’ll do anything to protect you, even if it upsets you. which in turn makes him feel guilty and awful and like he doesn’t deserve you. so when you forgive him and give him another chance, he feels so grateful and the cycle repeats.)

even if you want him to, i think it would take time, practice, and trust (in you and himself), for caleb to be alright with intentionally neglecting your comfort or causing you pain (which causes you pleasure, you little masochist).

⭑.ᐟ “what am i? a leg press to you?”

during sexy time, he’s definitely cracking some jokes. and this particular one is delivered in that teasing tone as your feet rest on his shoulders, trying to push him off because the mating press has him too deep in your tummy.

he’s your childhood friend turned captor, of course he has a sense of humour! not to be a drag, but so many caleb smuts (incl. my sole one btw right here if you haven’t read it) make him out to be so harsh and possessive. which he is. to an extent. not a complaint but an observation. still love a possessive, jealous caleb smut. BUT i don’t think that’s his angle every time, you know?

along the same lines of comfort, i think joking around would be his way of helping you to relax and let go during your intimacy. maybe he’s licks the tip of your nose during missionary or ruffles your hair teasingly as you suck his cock, making you pull off him and giggle as he grins giddily down at you. or he’ll straight up deliver some stand up comedy while balls deep in you.

furthermore, caleb is a yapper, and he’s not gonna stop yapping once y’all are going at it. if anything, i think he’s yapping even more when you’re doing the devil’s tango. he’s running his mouth, rasping out praises and compliments which make you blush and gush. as we’ve established, he’s telling jokes. maybe he’s riling you up, pissing you off so you can tell him to shut up (which makes him even harder).

⭑.ᐟ “use me however you want”

imagine this, you’re needy asf and text caleb about your predicament. 20 minutes later, he’s at your doorstep. dropped everything under the guise of handling an “emergency” at home, because to caleb, this is a fucking emergency. all hands on deck, you lead him to the couch. things are getting hot and heavy, you’re grinding on his bulge, and he drops this line.

you stop, stunned as you stare at him, stuttering if that’s really okay. he urges you on, and soon enough, he’s sitting on the floor with his back against the couch. his head is thrown back, resting on the cushions as you ride his face.

that nose was MADE to be rode (and to sniff panties), convince me otherwise, ha ha you can’t. and he swears he’s seeing the stars, at heavens’ gates (fr this time) as you drag your sopping cunt all over his mouth. he’s lapping at you, finally quiet for once and in awe of how much you need him right now.

his veiny hands are wrapped around your hips, steadying you as you buck wildly, desperate for his tongue and his nose against your clit. and when you cum, he’s cumming with you. no touching required, your pleasure, your trembling thighs clamping tight around his head in sync with slick and sweet release dripping out of your hole as you scream and cry out, is more than enough to get him off.

if you weren’t riding his face and instead just sitting on it, you can rest assured that he would be using his gravity evol to crush his face with your weight. this pilot wants you to SIT on his face. fuck that hovering bullshit. he’d rather break his perfect fucking nose while making you orgasm than not feel your full weight on him.

i think caleb’s free use kink is natural. it’s not something he’s ever questioned before. like he’s never questioned his undying love and obsession with devotion to you. any time you want him, that’s enough to get him going. hell, he even lets you use him in his sleep. not that you do. you’re not ready for that level of freak yet. or maybe you are, idk. but he loves the thought of waking up and you’re dragging his leaking cock through your slippery slit, pushing it inside of you when he finally cracks his eyes open.

and then he asks if you need a pillow.

⭑.ᐟ “let me guess, the uniform stays on, pipsqueak?”

honestly, do i need to elaborate? i, pipsqueak, say that yes, the uniform stays on. the hat, the dog tags, the gloves (i’m foaming at the mouth rn btw pls restrain me), ESPECIALLY the gloves.

caleb quickly discovered your… fondness for his uniform and likes to tease you about it. when he comes home, all sweaty from another day as the fleet’s colonel with that big dopey grin on his face from seeing his precious girl baking him goodies or reading on the couch, he knows where your mind goes. he’ll give you a big cuddle and try to go and clean up, and sometimes you let him.

other times, though, you’ll pull him back into your arms and hold on to him so tight, it’s like you’re just as afraid as he is that one of you will vanish into thin air. when you gaze up at him with those doe eyes, begging him to ‘entertain’ you that he’ll ask if the uniform stays on. and unfortunately for him, the answer is always yes.

hell, caleb is beginning to feel like a whore with how you pinch his ass in those snug pants and objectify him (he’ll cry it you stop).

i can’t think of anything hotter than caleb, in his fitting uniform, with those gloved hands around your neck, restraining you in a mating press and taking out all of his frustration on your poor pussy after a hard day at work (with your consistent reassurance that doing so is a-okay). those dog tags dangling near your face so you suck on the pendants. his tie is loose, and sweat is dripping down his brow as he babbles about supervising the new recruits.

match my freak, colonel uniform + he gags you with an apple. maybe those new recruits really fucking pissed him off, and when he got home, you were testing him. or maybe he saw you with the delivery man this morning (via the cameras) and decides to remind you of who you belong to.

masterlist

star's final words: i'm back lol. got the clearance from my surgeon today for my ridiculous amount of screen time. this post is more of a rant than a drabble, but i hope y'all still liked it! super excited to be back. i had so many ideas in my six days off (the grind never stops).

[caleignii]

Babyteeth

synopsis: Caleb is 8 and mc is 6 , it seems like the tooth fairy came early for the both of you.

You and Caleb walk hand and hand down the street, Caleb always looking over carefully to make sure your keeping up.

" do you need to take a break pipsqueak?" He says cheerfully

You shake your head two little pigtails swinging in the wind as Caleb pats your head.. but as he does he notices something A BEE ?!?

“ oh, hmm wait just a second there’s a bee” he says calmly

That’s when you go full, fight or flight mode and let’s just say it’s a mix of both your running around frantically swatting your hands while Caleb tries to chase after you, somewhere in the midst of it you end up smacking Caleb right in the mouth.

Which stops both of you in your tracks

“ wow pipsqueak, and I thought I was gonna have to protect you from bullies” he says giving you a toothy grin

And that’s when your eyes go wide.

Caleb’s usually bright smile is pooled with blood, and his front tooth now snaggles.

You break down into tears

“ pipsqueak , what’s wrong?!?!” Caleb is seriously confused until he touches his lip and sees blood.

“You must’ve accidentally knocked out his already loose tooth!” He thinks to himself

“ pips it’s okay i promise it was already loose!” He says as he effortlessly pulls the tooth out grabbing a rag out of his pocket to clean up the bleeding.

Caleb gives you a smile again.. but you only cry harder

“ THERES MORE BLOOD!!! WAHHHH!!” you squel out

“gosh darn it, why won’t this thing stop bleeding it’s scaring my squeak” Caleb talks to himself frustratedly.

He grabs your shoulders carefully but firmly

“pipsqueak what would sailor moon do in this situation she would be brave wouldn’t she!”

You stop crying for a minute wheels turning in your head.

“ hm.. she’d … FIGHT THE PERSON WHO DID THIS TO YOU” you say lifting your fist about to smack yourself in the face.

“ PIPSQUEAK NOOOOO!!!!” Caleb shouts out as it happens in slow motion.

And that’s how you both ended up in front of gran both missing one of your front teeth.

Taglist 🏷️ @calistaxoxo24 @mariojins @nezuswritingdesk @swaggyv1v1

@ashsillyrants @wintereve3 @deejse @lucidreamsea @monsochhichi @sxkura-blxssxm @princessofenkanomiya @yeompei @lady-wallace @weepingangel2222 @eolivy @inspiredfairy @wordsgodeep @reit0o

[caleignii]

lemonade stand

you needed some money.

42 dollars, to be exact. and by the looks of it, the loose coins in your piggy bank weren’t going to be enough this time. 

the idea didn’t come easy. it took hours of questions, hours of thinking. but when you saw a big kid grab a drink from the park vending machine, a lightbulb flashed overhead: you were going to make a lemonade stand. 

it was a solo gig, at first. you had it all figured out: you’d snuck the ingredients onto gran’s grocery list, cut out some yellow streamers on construction paper, and asked your math teacher what the price per cup should be. everything was going just as you hoped. 

that is, until the night before setup, when caleb's nosy self had popped in out of nowhere and ruined your plans. 

he’d caught you in the kitchen, teetering on the stepstool as you tried to reach the sugar, and decided you needed his help. 

and after you lost the ensuing argument—there wasn’t much you could do with all the lemons, cups, and spoons floating over your head—you’d reluctantly accepted it.

so you’d put him to work. he squeezed, and you mixed. you’d been on squeeze duty at first, actually, until he’d slowly nudged you out of the way. a) i’m stronger, he’d said. and b), if the juice sprays in my face, it won’t affect me as much. you know i love sour things.

and so you worked in a steady rhythm, making batch after batch until gran decided it was bedtime. 

the next day, as you set up in the summer heat, caleb had to pull your bottom lip out from your teeth. it’s just so scary not knowing if anyone will come, you’d whined. 

look on the bright side, he’d offered, ruffling your hair. if it’s a slow day, we’ll have enough lemonade to last us a week. 

but as the sun rose in the sky, customers from all around the block trickled in. friends with their parents, the nice lady down the street—even the cranky old grandma with the snobby cat had stopped by. 

and caleb had been by your side the whole time. counting cash when the numbers got too high, fetching more ice when your supply melted, and chatting with the guests you didn’t know that well. 

order up, pip-squeak, he’d called, brandishing two full glasses with a toothy grin. those had been for the newlyweds a couple houses down. you always told him you wanted to be like them when you grew up, but his cheeks got red every time. you never could figure out why. 

when you’d gotten too hot, caleb had even poured you a cup of your own, dropping a few too many crinkled-up bills into your coin jar. it’s called a tip, he’d told you. people give you those when they think you’ve done a good job. 

the last few customers came by after work, when a soft evening breeze cooled the air. before you knew it, the sun was setting, and you wobbled back inside with the overflowing jar you insisted on carrying yourself. 

89 dollars was the day’s total, and with a loud cheer, you gave caleb his share of your earnings. he’d refused at first, but you’d forced him to take it, knowing he’d do the same for you.

and the next week, after a thrilling trip to the mall, your 42 dollars went to a new home. your purchase? a shiny model airplane, bought just in time for caleb’s birthday. 

[caleignii]

Note: DID I SHOCK YOU GUYS?!? COWBOY CALEB?!?!?!? Serious note, this has been in my mind for dayssss and it came out so much better than I imagined. I hope you think so, too. ♡

creds to @/saradika-graphics & @/anitalenia for the dividers/banners!

Rating: Explicit - !!Minors DO NOT Interact!!

Warning: Smut (kindaaaa slow getting there. hope that’s okay), Loss of virginity

Word Count: 4,272 (WOAHHH)

Summary: You and Caleb in the house alone + Unspoken feelings.

Cowboy!Caleb/Reader

When you handed Caleb a cup of your momma’s homemade lemonade, you had to make sure that you didn’t stare for too long.

You didn’t want to get caught eyeing the black tattoos that trailed down his sweaty arms. Or the thin material of his white tank top which clung to his abs that rippled beneath the partially translucent material with every breath he took.

Instead, you simply gave a quick nod to the man you’ve known since you were five years old.

“Thanks, baby,” he tilts up the corner of his mouth, catching his breath. You tried your hardest to ignore the pet name as you waited for him.

He pulled off the gloves he wore to move the horses’ hay around, his hand brushing against yours when he grasped the cool cup. You looked at everything but him as his thick neck worked to drink the refreshing beverage. After he handed it back to you, you didn’t wait a moment longer to scurry out of the stables.

When you first met Caleb, he was much younger and not packed with muscled or decorated with beautiful inked artwork. His family owns a ranch a little ways out from your parent’s small farm and when you all moved down to the pretty countryside, they were the first to pay you a visit.

Caleb teased you all the time like it was nobody’s business, and it was all because the boy refused to admit how much he liked you the longer he stayed in your presence. You were equally shy about your feelings, but you were more of a quiet mouse about it so he thought it was one sided.

The older you two got, the less time you two spent together, but the feelings never faded. Not when you when to college—at least attempted to before dropping out and coming home three years in—and not when Caleb’s name had become a prayer whispered off the lips of several women around town.

You weren’t hurt or phased. As an adult, he had the right to sleep with whoever he wanted to, be with whoever he wanted to, but no matter how many women he’s fucked—it’s been no more than six, but they’re all obsessed with him—Caleb always, always thought of and wanted you. When you left, he thought the best way was to get over you was to force himself to move on.

Despite the rift that naturally formed after you left, you Caleb would always be a part of each other. That unspoken vow between you two is why he’s here now.

Your father had a small accident, making him unable to take care of his usual duties around the farm for a few weeks. While you and your mother helped pick up the work, assistance was still needed. That’s why when Caleb got word about it, he didn’t hesitate to come by every day from sunrise to sunset, helping to take care of the animals and any work around the property.

He did it all without any payment or expectations, simply giving help to the people who he looked at as second family. His family’s ranch was so successful that he didn’t need the money and even if he did, he wouldn’t have taken it. That’s how humble he is.

And while it was incredibly sweet, it was still hard for you to see him. Still hard to act like you didn’t want to climb all over him, to talk to him like there wasn’t any time missed.

So for everyday that he’s been here, you kept your distance unless your parents explicitly asked you to interact with him. You had maybe two conversations in the three weeks he’s been around and even then, it was only because your mother or father had been there.

There were always subtle glances, moments shared and stories told when your eyes would briefly meet. But it never went beyond that, and you could never understand if you were grateful for it or not.

Before you make your way to the house, you walk up to Caleb’s horse Applebottom, who’s been free roaming while her owner is working inside. She nuzzles into your palm and you pat her wet nose with a chuckle as she swings her blonde hair all over the place to show how delighted she is to be petted. You admire her golden brown and shiny coat, loving how much Caleb really takes care of the sweet horse he’s had since he was thirteen.

Departing from her so that she can continue her frolicking, you climb the porch once you approach the wooden steps and walk inside to put the cup in the kitchen. As you wash your hands, you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. You look over to see your momma.

“Hey babydoll, you give him the lemonade?”

“I did,” you nod. “He said thank you.”

“Good, good,” she huffs. “Listen, your dad and I have to go visit your grandmother. We should be back by tonight.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Okay. Is Grams alright?”

“She’s fine,” she waves off. “She just wants to see her son is all. Been worried sick after we told her about the fall and you know she doesn’t leave the house, so I’ll just bring him to her since he can’t drive on his own right now.”

“Does Caleb know you’re leaving?”

“I’ll get around to telling him. You’ll be okay in the house yourself?” She plucks some stray hay from your hair.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

As the day progresses you find yourself on your momma’s rocking chair, subtly watching Caleb ride around with Applebottom. It’s safe to stare from a distance, so to the best of your ability, you watch how his strong thighs flex in his dark blue jeans, how his hips rock back and forth on the saddle. You listen to how he praises her and laughs every time she does something cute or funny.

The evening glow from the setting sun decorated the scene before you, the little amount of light left gleaming off the gold buckle of Caleb’s deep black Cattleman. He tips his hat off to you with a wink, making your cheeks hot. You turn away when he and Applebottom gallop further down the grass.

The screen door open and shuts behind you, and you look to see your dad with his cane. He sighs as he plops himself on the swinging bench beside you, looking out to where Caleb went.

“We might spend the night at Grams. Supposed to be a storm tonight.”

You tug at your denim shorts, getting uncomfortable with how they stick to you because of the summer heat. “You still sure about going, then?”

He nods. “I don’t want to leave her alone with this anyways. She’s never liked bad weather, just like your mother.” He and you laugh at that.

It’s silent for a moment. “Since Caleb lives a little far out, I told him he could stay the night so he doesn’t have to worry about trying to beat the storm.”

Your body freezes. You look at your dad, not knowing how to respond. He does it for you.

“He stays out of your room, you understand me?”

“Daddy, what are you implying?” you quirk a brow.

“I ain’t implying nothing. I’m saying that we all know what kind of character he is. He’s still a good kid, but he’s…slightly more experienced. Don’t want nothing happening between you two right now, is all. I know you’re grown and I’m not saying Caleb means harm or anything like that, but I don’t want him thinking he can try anything. Just want you to be safe.”

Your parents have never been oblivious to the way you and Caleb look at each other when you think no one’s looking. They’d never say it out loud in front of you, though. Because Caleb has become the town’s heartthrob—something you didn’t expect to return home to—your father still cares about and respects him, but he’d rather you not be another notch on his belt.

“He won’t,” you assure, and your dad looks at you with knowing eyes. “We won’t.”

Caleb stayed outside longer than you expected. You had whipped up a small dinner, telling him it was ready at some point, but he never came inside. He claimed he had a few more things to wrap up in the stables and said he wanted to make sure Applebottom was comfortable before he headed inside. You didn’t combat it, leaving his plate on the counter for him before you took yourself a shower to settle in for the night.

Your parents had left about an hour ago and they let you know they were with your grandmother who missed you something fierce.

It actually started raining as soon as they got there and your dad was right, had Caleb left at the time they found out about the storm, he would’ve been driving home in it.

You laid in your bed, looking at a whole bunch of nothing on your phone when you heard a loud clatter. Startled, you looked behind you to see that your curtain rod had given out.

“Not again,” you grumble, standing and seeing if you could pop it back into place. You couldn’t.

Deciding that you’ll actually have to put in a little elbow grease because you refuse to sleep with your window bare, you walk out of your room to head to the supply closet to find your daddy’s toolbox. At the same time you began your short trek down the hallway, the bathroom door opens to your left.

You look briefly to see Caleb. Shirtless and wet. With a towel slung low around his waist.

You quickly avert your gaze, not saying a word. He’s a walking wet dream, you think to yourself.

“Everything alright?” he calls to you. You halt for a beat, clearing your throat and hoping that your voice doesn’t betray you.

“Yeah,” you say simply.

You hear him chuckle. “You still avoidin’ me? Acting like we’re strangers.”

You turn to face him, keeping your eyes up. “I’m not avoiding anything.”

“Then talk to me. It’s just us,” he shrugs. “Nothing to be distant about.”

“I’m busy right now—”

“Let’s be busy together. I got time.”

“Caleb, really—”

“Please,” he says softly, his whole being softening. “I miss you. Miss talking to you.”

Unfortunately for your poor heart, you miss him too. So much. Giving in, you curtly nod. “Okay, we can talk while I fix my curtain rod. Go put some clothes on or something first.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He only put on sweatpants. And instead of letting you work on the rod, he takes over the tools that you found to handle it for you. You sit on your bed, ogling at his back muscles and how they move beneath his smooth skin.

“I’m surprised you still have it if I’m being honest,” he comments, adding onto the conversation you were having as he works on another screw. The thunder rumbles every now and then, making you feel nostalgic for some reason. Maybe it’s because you and him would have late night talks like this when he used to sleep over with his parents during nights with storms similar to the one outside, would happen.

“I’m keeping it even when it stops working. It’s a relic.” The beat up radio from the fifties that Caleb gifted you a couple years ago will always be sacred in your eyes. Not only is it because it was a send off present right before you left for college, but you love antique things.

“Since we’re talking on the topic of things we’re surprised about, the tattoos? What made you get all that?”

He lowers one of his arms, using the other to rattle the rod a little to see how sturdy it is and once satisfied, he gets down from the step ladder you gave him.

“That’s right. Last time you saw me, I only had Applebottom’s name on my side. But it’s nothing sappy or anything. I thought they looked good and figured, why not?”

“I know your mom lost her shit when you got the big ones,” you shake your head with a smile. Caleb’s mother has always been against anything tattoo or piercing related, so you wonder how he’s still standing.

“She did. Until I got the ranch tatted down my arm. Had me get the same exact piece framed and put it on the wall.”

You laugh, thinking about his theatrical mother who you need to get around to visiting. After you came back, you hesitated because you were always nervous about bumping into her son. As you speak with him though, you wish you didn’t. It doesn’t feel forced and it’s nice to talk to him again.

“You ever notice the one on my chest?”

Your frown in thought, moving your head side to side to tell him no. You’d been so busy trying to make sure you didn’t look.

He steps closer, making you crane your neck to look up. You squint, ignoring the fresh scent coming from him and his intoxicating size. The warm light from the floor lamp by your window helps you see and is that…

“My name?!” you exclaim, standing up.

“Least I could do for my favorite girl. Got it when you left for college ‘cause I missed you so much. Wanted to surprise you after I found out you came back, but then you avoided me like the plague.” He stares at you as you run your fingertips across the cursive writing with several small birds flying above it.

“You mean one of your favorites?” you roll your eyes. He grabs your hand before it can fall away from his skin completely. You choose not to speak on the avoiding him like the plague part, because he’s 100% right.

His jaw clenches. “A lot of things changes for a man who isn’t afraid to admit something out loud anymore, you know that?”

“I’m sure.”

“And if I told you that it’s always been you? That it can only ever be you?”

“I’d say the amount of women who knows what your dick looks like means you’re full of shit.”

He smirks. “Jealous?”

“You want me to be?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

“Tough luck.”

“Cute. But your nipples are telling on you, pretty girl.”

Your facade drops and you try to pull your hand away to cover your peaked nubs beneath your pink tank top.

“Want me to leave?”

You don’t answer and that solidifies all the hope he needs.

“How about if I told you that I’ve always imagined what you’d look like wrapped around my cock. Would you let me stay and find out?”

He stares at your lips as you stand dumbfounded and at a loss for words. “I’d say,” he takes your response and smirks as he twists it. “That based on your dilated pupils and the raging pulse in your neck, the idea intrigues you.”

“Just for you to conquer another sexual fantasy, then leave after you’ve gotten your sample?”

“You wound me,” he kisses your fingertips. “You’re smart, baby. You know I didn’t just start wanting you.”

“You said nothing.”

“Wanted to before you left, didn’t have the guts. Then you came back and it felt impossible to try. Well, with how you’ve been dodgin’ me, is all.” He places your palm to his cheek, kissing your wrist. “And I used to feel like you were too good for me, that I didn’t deserve someone as perfect as you. And while I still do, I want you to make that decision on your own.”

“And if…If I said I wanted you? Then what?”

“Then you’d have me.”

You shudder as he keeps kissing. His eyes are glazed with lust, the desire for granted permission pumping his heart. And when you shakily nod, his mouth is on yours faster than you can brace yourself.

Your arms wrap around his neck and he makes quick work of lifting you, using his strength to climb into the bed with you hanging onto him as he presses in between your legs. Your back arches as his teeth bite the skin of your neck, soothing each nip with an erotic lick from his tongue.

“I’ve never done this before,” you blurt out, making him stop. His eyes look up, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“You’re..?” You nod to answer him so that he doesn’t have to say it.

“Fuck, baby…” He gathers his thoughts. “I’d be honored to be your first. I promise to treat you real good, give you what you deserve.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Not one bit,” he assures, kissing your jaw. “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about. Want me to keep going?”

“Please…”

He smiles, pressing another to your nose. “Spread your legs wider for me.”

You listen to him, letting yourself feel as his hand snakes down your body, past your sleep shorts and into your panties. You whimper as he collects some of your slick, bringing it to your throbbing clit. He kisses you deeply, gently circling your bundle of nerves beneath his middle finger.

“I’m gonna make you cum at least once to get you ready for me.”

You nod, withering beneath him as he works you so easily with just one finger. As he shoves it into your hot walls, you cry out. Then when his thumb continues to please your clit, you feel like he’s raging his own storm within you. You’ve masturbated before, but it’s never felt like this.

Your moans are uncontrollable, falling from you and entrancing him like an ancient siren that has ruled the waters for centuries.

“I knew you’d sound beautiful,” he whispers into your neck. “I’m adding another one, okay?”

A second digit fills you, making you brace your hand on his bicep. The rain hitting your windows is loud, but it has nothing against your cries of pleasure. His fingers slide in and out, curving just right and stretching you deliciously. His hand is like magic with how it’s able to make you feel something so powerful.

He trails down your body with his lips, kissing your tits and sucking on your nipples.

“Caleb…I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, my sensitive baby. I’m right here…”

He rubs your clit just a little faster to help send you over the edge and you pull him back up, tasting him like he’s the epitome of salvation.

As his mouth mingles with yours, you start to shake when your orgasm washes through you, ridding yourself of anything that wasn’t entirely him. His fingers don’t stop until you’ve gone completely slack and he swallows your whimpers as if they’re his fuel.

He’s ravenous now, pulling his fingers from your cunt and bringing them to his mouth to taste your sweetness. Sitting on his knees, you breathe frantically as he pulls off everything keeping you from him. And you’re just as desperate, sitting up to help him pull off his sweatpants.

“Caleb, that’s not gonna fit.” You look between his eyes and his cock once he’s naked too. “How are you even walking around with that thing?”

He laughs genuinely at your shock. “You don’t want it?” He grasps himself, using his tip to push against your clit. You don’t want to seem dramatic, but you swear you almost came again, just from that. He’s so entranced by how your pretty face does nothing to hide how good you feel.

“Just relax for me, yeah? Anytime you need me to stop, just say the word.”

You nod, but put a hand to his hard stomach as he gets ready to slide inside. “I’m not on any birth control. Do you have a condom?”

His eyes slightly enlarge. Caleb has always worn a condom when he had sex. No one could get him to pull his pants off if some form of contraception wasn’t available. But for you? He was ready to go in raw and not give it a second thought. “Fuck. Fuck, I don’t have one. We don’t have to—“

“It’s okay. I trust you.” You trust him. It’s like falling in love with you all over again.

“I’ll pull out and I’m clean. I would never hurt you.”

“I know.”

You watch your name on his pec move in rhythm with his chest as he inhales and exhales. Bracing a hand beside your head, he uses his other to slowly begin to put his cock inside your cunt. He catches his bottom lip in his teeth and when the head slides in, you clench tightly, wincing at the unfamiliar fullness.

“You feel so good,” he breathes out a laugh, knowing that he’ll come quick if he doesn’t get a move on. His fingers and your first orgasm prepped you nicely with how easily he glides inside. He inches in slowly, trying to gauge your comfort level, but there’s nothing but pure bliss on your face.

“All the way,” you beg impatiently. “I can take it…”

“Anything you want,” he promises with a kiss. He loves kissing you.

In one fluid motion, he’s buried to the hilt.

He throbs inside of your velvet walls, making you attempt to push yourself forward to really feel him. “Move, please move..”

As commanded, his hips start to move back and forth to gain momentum before snapping into you like you’re an experience that will fade away if he doesn’t give you what you want. The bed shakes, gently thumping against thea wall every time he sinks all the way back inside of you. That ache you initially felt is long gone, replaced by a something that not even a dictionary has the words to describe.

“This pussy is mine,” he growls in your ear, sucking on the lobe while you make a mess of his semi-dry hair.

“Let me hear you claim this cock, pretty. You need to understand how devoted we are to you from now on.”

The feeling of his fat tip kissing your cervix is mouthwatering. “Your cock is mine,” you mewl as tears form in the corners of your eyes.

His balls slap against you, the continues smacking itching a part inside of you that you never knew needed scratching. You feel how his veins slide against you, feel how your pussy sucks him inside every time he slips away because you can’t even think about this ending.

“I’ve never felt anything this fucking good,” he moans as you chant his name the closer your orgasm approaches.

“I’m about to come, baby. I feel you, you’re right there. I can’t finish until you do.”

His pelvis grinds against your clit, his hair gently ticking your skin. You scratch at his back, your nails making him fuck you harder and his strong arms keep you enclosed in a safe cage. Finally, for the second time, you come so hard that it makes you cry genuine tears because it was so overwhelmingly pleasing.

Swiftly he pulls out, his cum shooting out to land onto your pussy and stomach. You watch how he pumps himself in his hand, edging the rest of his spend out of his leaky tip as it droops slowly.

You look at each other and he’s crawling back on top to kiss you with so much gentleness. He kisses your tears away first and you share a humorous laugh as he gives you more, especially when his featherlight caresses down your sides tickles you.

“You don’t have to say it right now, but…I love you. So much.”

You smile. “I just might love you, too.”

The next morning, the rain has completely stopped and a strong mass is holding you tightly. You stir awake first, humming gently to yourself as you recount last night.

All the way from when you saw him fresh out the shower, u until he cleaned you up and held you until you fell asleep. There’s a pulse between your thighs, both from wanting him again and from what he made you feel just hours before.

A gentle peck to the back of your neck startles you. “You’re up?”

“You know I am,” you chuckle.

“Good.” He inhales your sweet scent. “I’m not one to push my luck, but I’m more than ready for a repeat.”

“Caleb, you just woke up.”

“So did he,” he emphasizes when he grinds against your bare ass, making you bite your lip. He pulls you to lay on your back, causing you to giggle as he gets between your legs and kisses all over your face.

“I wanna take you riding again. Applebottom would love it. Maybe we can get you your own stallion, hm?” He smiles sincerely. “And I wanna show you off now that we’ve stopped playing around. Maybe get around to putting a ring on that finger.”

“You’ve got a lot of wants, cowboy,” you smirk.

“That only you can fulfill.” He goes to attack your mouth again.

Then you heard the front door open and close.

“Shit,” you whisper. Caleb is confused by your shock because you never told him what you and your dad talked about before he left. You completely forgot about them coming back and now, you have no clue how you’re going to quietly get this naked ass man off of you and back in the guest room before either of your parents get upstairs.

With no plan in mind, you accept your—well Caleb’s—fate: Your dad just might actually beat him with his damn cane.

Tags 🏷️: @honeymoonfleur (you said you wanted to be on my caleb tag list and i wasn’t too sure if you meant in general or just for the ex-husband fics. just let me know!)

[caleignii]

Lemurian!Rafayel Locking You Up

mentions of: smut, dubcon, mentions of human trafficking, kidnapping, stalking, p in v, possible drowning, disenfranchise, possessive behavior, cumming, breeding, abuse (?), masturbation, rough sex, orgasm, degrading, praising kink, sexual overstimulation, minor violence, stockholm syndrome (?), yandere tendencies, blowjob, fingering, humiliation, reader rots in bed all day.

synopsis: while you enjoy the time you spend from always being alone, Rafayel uses it as an advantage to take you with him.

a/n: hey dolls~ so i was busy for a week (farming on LaDs LOL) since my baby Caleb's bday is coming soon! Gosh as his girlfriend I have to work hard 乁⁠[⁠ᓀ⁠˵⁠▾⁠˵⁠ᓂ⁠]⁠ㄏ. Idek why I came up with this fanfic of Rafayel but whateverrr. Have fun readingg!

When the God of the Tides locked his gaze upon you.

You felt everything except from happiness, joy, or even blissfulness.

What are you even supposed to feel, when he was captivated to someone like you—a mere human, too quick to burn out, a creature who hunts their species, someone like you who doesn't even have a decent job, a boring person who'd rather spend her time alone rotting in bed. How?

You have no friends, have severed ties with your family, and doesn't even try mingling with others; how is that even possible? What exactly did he see in you?

You see, Rafayel thought she was a spirit — some pale thing left behind by the living, too quiet to be a proper mortal. He watched her from the trench’s edge, veiled by the dark silk of the ocean, his eyes above the surface only when the wind fell asleep. She was always alone. Always still. There were no prayers on her lips, no grief he could taste like others, no noise. Just her breath, slow and shallow, barely stirring the air around her. She sat like a stone pressed into the shore — unmoving, as though rooted not in flesh, but in sorrow. That’s what caught him first: her silence.

Her silence gave him a thrill, the way her silence prevented her from having anyone—close friends or even a family. That means...

She was an easy target.

If she were to disappear, nobody would even dare look for her. They'll assume she's simply going about her usual unpleasant business, which is to spend her days rotting in bed.

Gods are drawn to imbalance. Rafayel was no different. He had seen centuries of hearts collapse beneath waves, witnessed kingdoms swallowed by storms, worshippers burn incense and spill blood in his name. But they had always wanted something from him. He hated that — the asking, the needing. But she? She didn’t want anything. Not even life. And somehow, that made him want her more than he’d ever wanted anything.

He began to wait for her.

Each night she returned, he lingered just below, hidden beneath the shimmer of moonlight on water. Sometimes he moved with the tide, mimicking the slow breath of the sea to match hers. He studied the curve of her shoulder beneath that threadbare sweater, the way her fingers absentmindedly curled around pebbles she never threw, how she always stared into the water like she knew it was watching her too. Her skin bore no offerings. Her heart held no song. But the ache in her — that perfect, quiet emptiness — was a vessel he longed to fill. Not with kindness. Not with love. But with something older. Something his.

What stirred in him wasn’t compassion. It was deeper. Uglier. Divine.

Obsession.

You didn’t see him coming.

That night, you were lying on the rocks again — not sitting, not watching. Just lying there like something discarded, limbs sprawled, hair wet from earlier rain, eyes fixed blankly on the sky. You didn’t even notice how still the sea had become, how the tide hovered at the shore like a breath held too long. It wasn’t natural. It was him.

Rafayel stood waist-deep in the shallows, watching you. The way your chest rose and fell — slow, listless. You looked like driftwood, like seafoam. Forgotten. Silent. Empty. His.

He had whispered to her long enough.

Now he would take you.

The moment he stepped fully onto the rocks, she turned — not out of curiosity, but instinct. Your eyes met his, and for the first time... You looked afraid. You sat up. Fast. Your body stiffened.

“Who—?” you stammered.

“Shh,” Rafayel whispered, his voice like water sliding over bones. “It’s time, little fish. Time to stop waiting. Time to come home.”

He moved towards you, each step melting the wet stone beneath his feet. You scrambled backward.

“What? Who are you?” you breathed. “I don’t— I don’t want—”

“You do,” he said, softly, lovingly. “You just don’t know it yet.”

You turned to run.

Rafayel surged forward and caught you by the ankle.

“Ouch! Stop!” You screamed — a short, high, real sound — and kicked, nails clawing at the rock. He pulled you down hard, and you hit the stone with a gasp, skin scraping raw.

“Don’t make it difficult,” he said, wrapping his arms around your body from behind. Your body writhed. You tried to scream again, louder this time, but the ocean swallowed it whole. “You’ve been waiting for me since the day you started wasting away on this shore. I heard it. I felt it.”

“Let me go!” thrashing harder, panic lacing your voice. “Please— I don’t want this!”

Fear sent something sharp and sweet through him. You're real now. Not some silent shadow, not a figment of longing — but a living, terrified girl trying to resist him.

And he loved her more than ever.

“No one wants what they need,” he said into her hair. “But you belong to the sea now. You belong to me.”

With a violent pull, he dragged her off by the ankle and into the water.

You kicked. Screamed. Fingers clung to the stone edge, nails splitting. “Stop— please— stop—!”

But he was the God of Tides. And the sea obeyed him.

The water surged upward, wrapping around them both like claws. You didn’t stand a chance. In seconds, they were under.

You fought. Fought like a creature cornered, arms flailing, legs twisting in every direction, but he held you fast. Face contorted — not just with fear, but betrayal. Like you had let yourself feel safe, and he had broken that. And he had. He meant to.

Your lungs strained, body convulsing as you held your last breath. Gaze locked with his — pleading, furious, wild. You shook her head, violently, bubbles rising from her mouth as if you were trying to scream underwater.

“Can't b-breath” you gasped.

But it was too late.

He pressed his lips to you, not in love — in dominion — and forced the sea into her. Salt and cold and magic poured from him into her lungs, suffocating her scream, claiming every inch of her from the inside out.

Your body jerked, back arching.

Then… stillness.

He cradled her as her limbs floated limp in the current, her hair drifting like seaweed, her eyes half-lidded, glazed with something between death and dreaming.

He had you.

At last.

“Mmmhh... hahhh Raf I can't no more please...” You were exhausted, it's a miracle that you're still alive and moving. It was still not enough even though you've reached your limit at this point. Satisfying the God of Tides' needs was a hell of work, mind you he's not stopping until he feels like it.

“One more cutie, maybe if you'll show obedience I'll reward you.” As he nuzzles around your shoulder blades, while he takes you from behind drilling his hard cock to your so wet pussy.

You feel like your back is going to snap into half from arching it too much caused by the intense pleasure. As you're lost in pleasure, Rafayel began to trace the lower spine of yours ending up to your nape, as he pushes you even further to bed, making his girthy cock deeper around your walls so deep you can feel him enter your cervix.

“Here's a thing, if you don't pass out for two more rounds. I'll let you out of your cage for a week, how's that sound hmm?”

Right. You almost forgot that you are held captive in Rafayel's domain for who knows how long now, has it been weeks, months? Maybe half a year now.

Getting locked in a bird cage-like room, but it looks a bit larger and fancy, golden guard rails around you with an accent of blueish corals within. Don't get me wrong, Rafayel provides you everything you'll ever need, well except for your freedom I guess.

“Gonna cumm, Raf pleaseee... I'm gonna cum againnn.” As you drooled over his bed. “Ngghh... Just finish p-please— my body is...” Your eyes rolled back along with the lewd sounds filling the air, feeling a knot building inside you eventually reaching your orgasm.

With your body convulsing, Rafayel still doesn't stop as he continues to please himself.

“I like it when you're helpless, y'know. Stay with me for a bit yeah?”

You don't know anymore, don't know where to feel safe, don't know where to seek help. What can you say? You're in his empire where he is the ruler. That one time you tried to escape and sought help from other Lemurians, you felt powerless as well as being pathetic when they turned you back in.

The smug look on Rafayel's face when the look on your face, looks like he just destroyed and crushed down every hope, power and will left on you— he just wants to see it over, and over again.

With you trying to flee from him from time to time, that's when you ended up being imprisoned in your cage.

And him only letting you out if he wants to fuck you.

Your emotional being drained by him, as you are always used as his fleshlight everyday and it affected your mental health. There's one time that you tried fake moaning because you feel like you're not in the mood to do so, from being fucked few times a day.

He still noticed. And he was not happy

“Fuckin' whore, trying to piss me off huh?” his brows furrowed, clearly upset that you even dared doing that while he thought he was showing his love to you.

He slapped your face hard, so hard that you swore you heard some ringing sounds. He went harder on you, even rougher than before, as he was busy sucking your tits with his free hand kneads the other.

You're crying mess, “'M sorry Raff... Ughhh pleasee— I-I didn't mean to.” Well at least you've learned your lesson trying not to do that again.

“Take it, you don't have a choice either. I am disappointed in you, you've been a bad girl, you deserve to be torn apart like this” feeling a sting to your breast as he bites it.

Occasionally, whenever he's busy, he says that if you give him a blowjob while he works, you will have a surprise after. You think that he will finally let you out, so you obey him.

But the surprise ended up with him fingering you.

“That's a good girl hmm.. Giving yourself up was the right decision.” while he laps your lips, with his hand triggers the bundle of your nerves inside.

Nothing was more than embarrassing when he decided to let you out, with you almost wearing nothing, chains attached unto your neck along with the choker that has a bell on it. As he grabbed the chain, him walking and you crawling to the bed of the sea, his newly fresh creampie oozing out down your hips.

Others watched, but didn't try say a thing. This was Rafayel's symbol that he claimed you— you were his, and none of them could ever change that. The victorious smile he had as we watch you feeling humiliated, being a good princess for him for not being defiant.

Just so you know, he'll grant you an eternal life.

Until you let yourself drowned in the depths of his affection.

[caleignii]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ *⁠･ﾟMasterlist

a/n: hey dolls welcome to my blog! I am definitely not new to tumblr, but decided to write just recently cuzz why not thooo. I am currently writing fanfics mostly of Love and Deepspace.

╬ I have lots of work that I'm currently finishing off, stay tuned!

╬ requests are open, talk to meee!

Caleb

✧ PossessiveMechanic!Caleb Part 1 - Smut ♨️

✧ PossessiveMechanic!Caleb Part 2 - Coming soon!

✧ Caleb Fluff Headcanons - Fluffy ☁️

✧ Gamer!Caleb/Fan!Reader - Smut ♨️

Xavier

✧ Criminal!Xavier/Detective!Reader - Coming soon!

Rafayel

✧ Lemurian!Rafayel Locking You Up - Smut ♨️

Zayne

✧ Professor!Zayne/Reader - Coming soon!

Sylus

✧ Sylus/Reader - Coming soon!

Quick Thoughts

✧ Comfort Session with Caleb - Fluffy ☁️

[caleignii]

Alien!Caleb x Fem!Reader

Orbiting You

inspired by the clecanian series ! i really recommend these books!! the mmc’s are to die for

i’d also like to add that i’m discontinuing my xavier ff for now :( sorry!!

Chapter 1

Bursting through the doors of the holding facility without so much as a look over your shoulder, leaving the disgustingly sterile smell that had caused — at the very least — ten headaches over the last few weeks, you scoped the eerily familiar yet feverish scenery.

A forest.

Wait… can it even be considered a forest?

You took in the purple hue of the leaves — the swirls of bright teal and pink on the yellow bark, and the neon mossy ground, which, back on Earth, would’ve been long grass.

You let out a growl of frustration, hearing the yells of the girls behind you — who also miraculously managed to escape with the help of some alien man — before you tore your hands through your hair, making a beeline straight for the forest.

“Wait!” the girls all screamed in unison, seemingly genuinely concerned for your safety.

Must’ve been the trauma bond, you thought to yourself.

You didn’t stop.

Your boots crunched against the squelchy moss, which released a faint bioluminescent mist with every step. It lit up in pulses, like it was breathing — alive in a way that made your skin crawl. You pushed past low-hanging branches that shimmered with a strange, wet light, each one releasing a faint chiming sound when disturbed. The whole forest felt like it was watching you, sizing you up.

Branches snapped behind you. The girls weren’t far.

“We don’t know what’s out here!” one of them shouted — Kael, maybe? Or Vree? Their voices had started to blur together in your mind, warped by captivity and adrenaline.

You didn’t slow down until a sharp clicking echoed through the trees ahead. You froze. It wasn’t natural — not like the rustling, humming background noise of the forest. This was rhythmic. Intentional.

Another click. Closer.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as the forest suddenly quieted, like it had agreed to hold its breath. Even the moss stopped pulsing. You turned slowly, eyes scanning the neon-drenched underbrush, but all you could see were jagged shadows cast by oversized plants and bark that shimmered like oil slicks.

Then — a flash of movement.

Low to the ground, fast, and not human.

You barely had time to react before something streaked toward you from the trees — a blur of glinting metal and sinew, four limbs and no eyes. You dove to the side, hitting the ground hard, the moss cushioning your fall but not your ribs. Pain bloomed across your chest.

The thing skidded to a stop, silent, and turned with that same alien grace, limbs twitching, head cocked.

Behind you, the girls screamed.

You scrambled backward just as a voice — low, guttural, and distinctly not human — rang out from the shadows behind the creature.

“In’zek lara. It is not ready for the hunt.”

The creature froze.

You turned, heart hammering, toward the source of the voice. Your eyes widened as you took in the shimmering white markings that traversed the alien’s skin — looking similar to a sort of tribal tattoo back on Earth.

You didn’t know. You weren’t exactly a tattoo connoisseur.

The girls screamed once more from behind you, fleeing. Before you even understood what was happening — another figure, this time taller, broader, pounced on the alien infront of you.

Animalistic grunting and shrieks surrounded you, and you took this as an opportunity to flee, cutting through the dense nature — ignoring the small nips and bites at your ankles, too scared to look down in case you’d see some sort of monster-ish creature at your feet.

Based on what little you recalled from high school exploration and survival classes, you clumsily covered your tracks — running to God knows where in the forest. You darted between trunks that twisted like coiled wire, brushed branches behind you to mask your path, and kicked up patches of glowing moss to distort your footprints. It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t even smart, necessarily. But panic made you resourceful, and desperation gave you speed.

You didn’t stop moving, even when the forest seemed to press in tighter around you. Leaves whispered in a language you couldn’t understand, the neon flora dimming and flaring as though reacting to your presence. Somewhere in the distance, something screamed — not human, but not entirely alien either. A sound that felt like it reached into your bones and told you run faster.

So you did.

Minutes bled together, until you were sure you had put miles between you and whatever had erupted back at the edge of the holding facility. Your lungs burned, your legs ached, and your throat was raw from the cold, chemically-scented air that passed for oxygen on this planet.

You slowed only when your body forced you to — stumbling into a low ridge of roots that formed a sort of natural alcove.

Collapsing to your knees, you pressed your back against the twisted bark, letting yourself finally breathe. For a moment, there was only the pounding of your heart and the strange, almost melodic hum that radiated from the trees. It sounded like the forest was singing to itself — a low, layered rhythm that pulsed through the ground and settled in your chest like a second heartbeat.

You risked a glance around.

No movement.

No sign of the girls. Or the creatures. Or the alien man with his glowing tattoos and cryptic words.

You were alone.

And for the first time in weeks, maybe months, that didn’t feel terrifying.

It felt like freedom.

You leaned your head back against the tree, closing your eyes. The surface was warm. Not bark, exactly — something softer, more like skin than wood. It pulsed gently, like the forest was alive in more ways than one. But you were too tired to care. Too tired to do anything but exist.

And as the adrenaline bled from your system, replaced with a creeping exhaustion, your thoughts finally slowed enough to catch up to themselves.

You’d escaped.

You weren’t safe, not by a long shot. But you were away from the sterile facility, from the screaming, from the collar they’d clamped around your neck like a leash.

And maybe… maybe that was enough for now.

You’d survive this.

You had to.

Curling deeper into the root-formed alcove, you pulled your jacket tighter around your body, feeling the hum of the planet settle into your bones. The forest kept singing its strange lullaby — low, eerie, and alive.

You let it.

You let the tears fall, desperately trying to understand why it had to be you that was abducted.

The question had haunted you since the night everything changed — lingering in the back of your mind like smoke, thick and bitter and impossible to clear. You hadn’t been anyone important. You weren’t rich. Weren’t powerful.

Just walking home late, earbuds in, jacket zipped up to your chin, keys between your fingers like they taught you in every self-defense thread on the internet.

You’d never even heard it coming.

One second you were passing that broken streetlight outside your apartment complex — the one that always buzzed — and the next, your body had gone weightless. Like gravity had snapped. The world tilted. The sky twisted in on itself, folding and unfolding in impossible angles. You’d tried to scream, but something had wrapped around your throat, soft like silk but heavy like steel. Everything went black.

You woke up days later — maybe weeks, maybe minutes, time had no meaning in the metallic white room they held you in — and were greeted by a voice that didn’t match the creature it came from.

“We apologize for the discomfort. The transition between atmospheres is often disorienting.”

The words echoed in perfect English, though you saw the thing’s mouth move in ways that made your stomach turn. Later, you learned it wasn’t really English at all — just your brain interpreting it, thanks to the translator chip they’d embedded in your skull. You didn’t remember them doing it. But the scar behind your left ear made it clear they had.

“You are on Zyrephar,” they had said. “You have been chosen.”

Chosen. As if that word meant anything besides stolen.

You and eleven other women, taken from Earth under the cover of darkness. Each of you from different cities, different lives, but all with the same biology. “Fertile,” they whispered. “Compatible.” Words that made your blood run cold every time they were spoken.

Their species had once thrived on balance — an equal split of male and female. But something had shifted in their genetic code generations ago, a slow extinction creeping in like a virus. Now, less than one percent of Zyrepharian births were female. Desperation had pushed them to Earth — to you.

They experimented in ways they told you were “non-invasive,” but you knew better. The headaches. The nosebleeds. The weird dreams. Some days you’d wake up with handprints that didn’t belong to anyone in your cell. The others stopped asking questions after the first girl disappeared.

They said you were hope.

You knew better. You were property.

A lab rat with a pulse.

And now you were out. Alone, yes — lost, terrified — but free.

The forest was still humming when you opened your eyes.

It wasn’t sunlight that woke you — Zyrephar didn’t seem to have anything like a sun, not one you could see anyway. The sky above the trees just… glowed. A faint lavender hue pulsed gently through the clouds, enough light to see by, but no real warmth to speak of. Your body was stiff, crumpled from the night spent curled awkwardly in the root-woven alcove. Your neck ached. Your back throbbed. Your stomach snarled.

Right. Hunger.

The last time you’d eaten was… what, two days ago? Maybe more. The facility had rations, if you could call them that — bland nutrient paste pressed into gray squares, barely edible but enough to keep you upright. You’d choked them down because you didn’t want to give your captors the satisfaction of seeing you weaken. Now, you’d have killed for one.

You sat up slowly, careful not to draw attention — though to what, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t heard anything all night, no pursuit, no voices. Just the gentle rustle of strange leaves and the occasional distant howl. Still, something about the forest made you feel like you were never truly alone.

You began walking, hoping movement might distract you from the gnawing pit in your gut. The forest floor was springy beneath your boots, a carpet of moss that pulsed softly underfoot. The more you moved, the more you noticed how alive everything felt. Plants leaned subtly in your direction, reacting to your heat. You passed flowers that blinked shut as you neared, vines that quivered away from your reach.

Eventually, you came across a small stream cutting through the terrain, its water glowing faintly blue — not neon, but soft and inviting. It was the first natural feature you’d seen that didn’t fill you with immediate unease.

You crouched beside it, checking for movement. Nothing strange. No fish, no obvious threats. You dipped your fingers in. The water was cool. Clean, maybe.

Still — your gut told you not to drink it yet.

You grabbed the emergency foil blanket from your facility-issued jacket and, with a bit of improvisation, shaped it into a crude bowl. After a few failed attempts using heated stones to boil the water, you remembered something from a survival video you watched back on Earth — hot rocks can purify water, but not if they’re fresh from the fire. Let them sit, then drop them in.

The second try worked better.

You boiled small batches at a time, watching the strange blue steam rise in spirals. You let the water cool before sipping, and while the taste was still alien — faintly metallic with an odd sweetness — you didn’t feel sick after drinking it. That was enough for now.

Next was food.

You combed the forest floor carefully, wary of touching anything too vibrant or unusual — which didn’t leave you much to work with. Eventually, you found a cluster of dull orange bulbs growing beneath the shade of a wide-leafed plant. They looked a little like Earth potatoes, but slick and sticky to the touch. You sliced one open with a jagged rock, inspecting the inside. Pale, fibrous. It didn’t smell like poison. But then again, you weren’t exactly a xenobotanist.

You roasted one over a makeshift fire — dry bark, torn threads from your jacket as tinder, a flint shard from the rocks near the stream. It took a while, and you wasted two of the bulbs trying to get the flames right, but eventually the fire caught. The bulb blackened on the outside. When you bit into it, the inside was mushy, bitter, but vaguely edible.

You ate slowly, waiting after each bite. No immediate nausea. Your head didn’t spin. Your vision didn’t blur.

It was a win.

Afterward, you leaned back against a fallen log, exhaustion settling in like a heavy cloak. You’d been on edge so long that the stillness now felt… wrong. Like you were forgetting to do something important. But your limbs were leaden. Your muscles trembled with every movement. The adrenaline had worn off hours ago, leaving only the bruises and the bone-deep weariness in its place.

You let your eyes drift closed for a moment.

Just a moment.

When you opened them again, the lavender sky had deepened to violet. The forest was shifting into its nighttime rhythm. The humming grew softer, the bioluminescence dimming in some places and flaring to life in others. Plants curled into themselves like sleeping animals. You felt the temperature dip — not cold enough to kill, but enough to bite through your jacket and stir a new shiver in your spine.

You moved quickly, stacking stones around the small fire to trap heat and building a crude shelter from broken branches and the wide waxy leaves you’d seen earlier. The structure wouldn’t withstand much, but it would at least give you something between you and the open sky.

Sitting by the fire, you let your mind wander.

You thought about Earth. Your apartment. The streetlight. The half-finished paper on your laptop. The dented kettle on your stove. Things that felt centuries away now. You wondered if anyone had noticed you were gone. If anyone had connected the dots between the missing girls. But deep down, you knew they hadn’t. You were just another lost face in a world too busy to care.

Here, on Zyrephar, you were something else entirely.

Not just lost.

Not just alone.

Taken.

By the sixth day in the forest, your body didn’t feel like your own anymore.

It had become a tool — aching, sore, dirty, stretched to its limits, and still somehow pushing forward because there was no other choice. You had no mirror, but you didn’t need one. You could feel how much weight you’d lost in less than a week. Your clothes hung differently, your cheeks felt hollow. Your limbs were thinner, leaner. Your stomach, despite the constant ache, had stopped growling. It had given up the protest somewhere around day four and now just curled inward with every step, like it was conserving what little energy you had left.

Your boots — if they could still be called that — were torn open at the seams. Moss had found its way in through the gaps, clinging to your socks and skin like a parasite. Every step rubbed the fabric raw against your heel. You stopped trying to clean the wounds days ago. All you could do now was wrap them in strips of cloth and pray infection didn’t set in.

Still, you walked.

Each morning, you forced yourself to get up before the sky could fully change color, before the twilight-pink glow of Zyrephar’s false sunrise painted the trees with their haunting hue. You moved camp every day — a habit born of paranoia, maybe, but you weren’t about to risk being tracked. Not after what you’d escaped.

The plants around you had become more familiar — not friendly, but known. You’d mapped them in your mind. The round blue stalks with the soft, almost rubbery heads were safe to touch. The thick, wide leaves with the fine yellow fuzz made good coverings, but gave you hives if they brushed your skin for too long. And the glowing red vines? You didn’t go near those anymore. You’d seen one snatch a lizard-like creature out of the air mid-leap. The thing hadn’t even made a sound — just vanished into a pulsing coil of death.

For food, you lived off the same orange bulbs you’d discovered your first day. They grew in clusters near water and left a metallic aftertaste, but they hadn’t made you sick. That counted for something. You’d tried to roast a few other foraged items once — some green pods that oozed when sliced — but the bitter stench and immediate stomach cramps cured you of that mistake fast.

Boiling water had become second nature. You rotated between two fire sites, never letting yourself fall into a rhythm. You didn’t know if your captors had the ability to track thermal signatures, but it felt safer to assume they did. You imagined them scanning the surface of Zyrephar, looking for a flicker of unnatural heat, a flash of movement. You imagined them circling.

And so you kept moving.

But the movement was slowing.

Your legs trembled beneath you even when you stood still. You leaned on trees without realizing it. Your breath came shallow more often than not. The forest had grown colder at night — the kind of cold that sunk into your joints and made everything hurt in the morning. You curled tighter into yourself each night, wrapped in your emergency blanket and leaves that stuck stubbornly to your sweat-damp skin.

You couldn’t remember the last time you slept without waking up gasping. Dreams plagued you — flashes of the holding cell, the sound of metal doors grinding open, the sting of needles beneath your skin. Sometimes you heard the girls screaming. Sometimes you woke up with your hands clenched so tight your nails left blood in your palms.

You were falling apart.

But you were still free.

And that had to be enough.

That evening, you made camp earlier than usual.

Your body wouldn’t carry you any further. You’d found a small hollow beneath a fallen tree, covered in a wide curtain of leafy vines that you carefully pulled across the opening. It wasn’t perfect. The space was cramped and damp, the ground uneven and riddled with roots. But it was something. Shelter.

You chewed on one of the roasted bulbs with numb determination, barely tasting it. You drank your now-routine two cups of boiled stream water, then set the stones aside, curling into your sleeping position. Your limbs ached in that deep, bone-level way that meant you needed more rest than your situation would allow. Your eyelids drooped, heavier than they’d ever felt, and even as you told yourself to stay alert — to keep watch — your body decided otherwise.

Sleep took you hard and fast.

You weren’t sure what woke you.

There was no sound. No movement. No shift in the humming rhythm of the forest.

Just a feeling.

Something off.

The air around you had changed — not colder, not warmer, just… closer. You could feel it on your skin, as if the atmosphere itself was pressing down with expectation. Your body tensed before your mind fully caught up, and you remained still, heart pounding in your ears, afraid to even breathe too deeply.

Your eyes opened a crack.

The fire had gone out. Only the soft afterglow of Zyrephar’s sky lit the interior of your little shelter — the dim violet hue barely filtering through the leafy veil you’d drawn closed.

And then you saw it.

A silhouette.

Kneeling beside you.

Close. Too close.

It didn’t move. Didn’t breathe, as far as you could tell. Just hovered over you, silent, its face inches from yours.

Smelling you.

Your heart flipped in your chest — your entire body jolting upright as a scream tore out of your throat, ragged and raw from days of silence. You scrambled back against the log, kicking over your makeshift bowl and scattering embers from the night’s dead fire. Your fingers closed instinctively around the jagged rock you’d been using as a knife — the closest thing you had to a weapon — and you raised it with trembling hands.

“Who the hell are you?!” you barked, voice hoarse, jagged like gravel. “What the hell were you doing?!”

masterlist

Taglist : @etsuniiru @kyokoyya @i-messed-up-big-time @firefly1103 @gracekerzzz @mcdepressed290 @sylusgirlie7 @plzdonutpercieveme @m00nchildwrites

[caleignii]

Milking time!

Content: Cow hybrid! Caleb + Possessive! Caleb; Size difference + Mentions of abuse and neglect + Scent marking + Rut + Facial + Face fuck + Masturbation + Cumshot + Dacryphilia

Note: Just read some new manhwa (smut) about hybrids and a farm and it was so good! Sadly there are no more episodes by the moment (right now it only has like 6) but it's so freaking good, gosh I could eat it completely, the dairy cow is so so handsome... and a cutie ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ I hope I explained the position correctly, it's like, laying on top of the person and using your lower thingy on their mouth... not that good with explaining positions, sorry! Let me know if I should make a part 2!

Cow hybrid ! Caleb who recently arrived to the farm. He was found in the middle of nowhere, with his body completely scarred as the rain soaked the small piece of clothing that barely covered his lower half. Just what the hell had happened? You had been trying to get the enemy farm to leave the town after the rumours abou them abusing their workers. You kept cursing under your breath, just why couldn't you do it faster? Well, of course you couldn't, by the time you had found out you barely had any proof apart from what some of the hybrids told you about, so you already knew that this was to be expected... Still, you had to rub your eyes, cleaning the tears that had started to fall down your cheeks and rushing towards the poor young man, trying your best to carry him to the truck so you could bring him to his new home.

Cow hybrid! Caleb who becomes extremely attached to you. It doesn't take more than a few weeks for him to recover from the injuries the old "owners" had caused to him, now constantly following wherever you go. He liked grabbing you by your hips, hiding his hand inside your pocket so he could stay as close as possible to you. You know this could be a bad idea, as you are planning on simply allowing him to choose whatever he wants to do next in life, and growing attached to you was not the best option for that, but you were unable to do anything. After all, he had recently been rescued, surely it was normal for him to become so attached to you, right?

Hybrid bull! Caleb whose possessiveness only worsens. It has been quite few months since Caleb had completely healed, so you had expected him to go back to the "usual" behaviour of the other bulls, who had already found someone to love within the vast farm. In contrast, Caleb had stayed with you, still following you everywhere you went, with a... slight change. He had become extremely possessive of you, constantly trying to start a fight with the other males every time he saw them giving you those glances... Just who did they think they were? Yes, he might have arrived way later than them, but that didn't mean they were allowed to give you those lustful eyes. Since that moment, Caleb had started to pick petty fights with the other hybrids, always acting as if he was simply protecting you from them, while he giving you those sweet puppy eyes he had learnt to do... It seems he did learn quite fast.

Cow hybrid! Caleb who is no longer able to handle his ruts. You used to let him use the toys you had bought for him during those special days, with Caleb using them without much interest, seeing as if it was just something to get over with. During this time, you had to make sure to keep some distance between you and him, trying your best to avoid leaving your scent on him in fear of another female thinking he had a partner, even politely removing his hands whenever he tried to get a bit too handsy with you. Not like it mattered to him, as he soon began to retaliate. Oh, you removed his hand from your hip because other females were watching at him? No problem, next time he would surround your waist with his beefy arms, making sure to pull you to him so you could feel his hard cock pulsing beneath his working clothes. Now you refused to get even a few metres close to him? Guess he simply had to make you come closer yourself.

Cow hybrid! Caleb who takes advantage of you. You were suddenly awakened by a strange noise, not only that, but it was then accompanied by a rustle, someone was moving under your blankets. With your heart thumping, you slowly moved the sheets, finally seeing the reddened and exhausted face, chest puffing as he kept pressing his hard-on against your ass, breath becoming heavier as he started to rub his hips even faster, with you already feeling how his underwear was getting wet from the precum. "Please... please... just help me... It hurts..." Caleb looked at you with tears in his eyes, almost making your chest hurt from seeing how he was struggling to keep himself together. "Just... fine. But don't get used to it, ok?" You tossed the sheets to the side, getting on top of Caleb and removing his wet boxers which had already been stained by his thick cum. Slowly, you started to move your hand up and down, marking a slow rhythm that almost made Caleb groan outloud, biting his own hand to stop himself from making some embarrasing sounds. You kept this rhythm for some minutes, confused as you kept feeling his dick throbbing, almost as if he was close to cumming, still, Caleb kept biting his hand, eyebrows furrowed as he forced himself to last as much as possible, what other opportunity would he have after this? "Maybe... Maybe if you lick it I will end faster...?" Caleb suggested, voice soft as if he was whispering, still, you could feel how much he had been waiting for him to suggest that. "Caleb... just where did you...? Ugh... just... just the tip, ok?" You kneeled, getting one of your legs between his, using your hand to keep his member up, slowly getting closer to it as you sticked out your tongue, carefully entering his tip into your mouth and sucking on it, using one of your hands to masturbate the rest of his member. "Fuck... So good... please, just a bit more, yeah? Please, I've been so good... Didn't fight with the other males for over a week, just a bit?" Caleb looked at you, his muscular body now looking even bigger due to the dim light that entered the window.

Before you noticed, Caleb's hands were already playing with your hair, petting it as you had done so many times before, the caring touch mixed with the feeling of his tip rubbing against your tongue almost making you moan from the pleasure. "Please...? Come on baby, let me do it..." You locked eyes with him from where you were, gradually entering his member until the tip was hitting against the back of your throat, the pressure on it making you gag on it. Caleb's grip got a bit tighter, now grabbing your hair as he restrained himself from pushing his hips forward and fuck your mouth without mercy. "Just do it..." You whispered to him, face flushing as you felt how Caleb's chest puffed up in joy, swiftly pushing you against the couch and straddling you, his cock now being just in front of your face. "Open wide~... here comes your big reward." Caleb abruptly pushed his whole length inside your mouth, using his arms as a way to keep this position in which it looked almost as if he was doing a plank, his happy trail now pressing against your face each time he forced his cock inside you causing tears to form in your eyes as you tried your best to take a deep breath each time he pulled out. Caleb stopped for a second, smiling at you as he saw your chest moving up and down rapidly, after all, he had set a ruthless rhythm for you, making sure to push his cock till it reached the back of your throat, then staying still a few seconds so he could feel your throat tightening around his cock, soon letting you breath once more, smirking as he saw you struggling to adapt to it. At the same time, he kept stroking your hair with care, almost as he wasn't practically bullying your poor mouth, pressing your whole body against the mattress and leaving you with little to no choice than to take it. "Keep your mouth open, here comes your reward..." All of sudden, Caleb moved away his dick moving a bit away so he could put the tip in front of your open mouth, strocking his cock with his right hand as he used the left hand to stay still, heavy ropes of cum falling into your mouth, a sweet aftertaste lingering in your mouth after you swallowed it completely... You hoped this wouldn't awake anything in you.

[caleignii]

everyone bare with me here.

imagine caleb as your landlord’s handyman son who installs cameras in your apartment without your knowledge…….

when he got the call that you needed your bathroom sink fixed, he was elated that you never thought to look under it. a simple turn of the valve—that he tampered with when he found out you were moving in—would’ve stripped him of his perfect opportunity to put tiny cameras in places he knew you’d never notice.

and his sweet girl is so trusting that you ask him if it’s okay to run to the store while he takes his sweet time correcting something that should only take him two seconds.

when he sets up all his devices, you become his sole form of entertainment. he watches everything you do. from the moment you walk in your door until you’re in bed, playing with that needy pussy.

and he watches you live.

his favorite thing? his cum shooting out and onto his toned stomach at the same time your orgasm makes you bury your face into the sheets during the nights where you crave friction, riding the pillow—that he intends to steal and replace—because it feels too good. and he’ll keep stroking himself as you keep humping, just to know what it’ll be like when he finally gets the real thing.

he has every recording saved so that he can go back to all his favorite times, replaying the same bits over and over right before you cum until he finally jerks, watching his thick spend trail down his cock as he uses your pretty whimpers to make it last just a little while longer.

if only he knew that you were just as obsessed.

the way caleb set up his cameras, he can’t see the things that you watch as you circle your clit beneath your soft fingertips. he doesn’t know that you’re watching your own live feed of him, watching him watch you. and you always wonder, while your toes curl and your hips raise at the same time you wish you could scream his name….

how bad is he going to punish you when he finds out that you made him wait when you knew all along?

[caleignii]

Just two of my favorite scenes from this card. His gorgeous face and a boat of beautiful flowers. <3

[caleignii]

Panty sniffer Caleb except it's comedy.

You were just looking for a missing sock. One sock. That's it.

But what you find instead is your six-foot-something husband crouched by the laundry basket like he’s disarming a bomb—except the bomb is your underwear.

You freeze in the doorway. He doesn’t see you yet. He's on a mission. A perverted, laundry-scented mission—his expression tender, reverent.

With all the focus of a Deepspace pilot, Caleb lifts your favorite pair of panties from the pile like they're a love letter written in lace. He squints at it, rubs the crotch between his fingers like he’s testing the thread count for softness, and then—

He brings it up to nose and inhales.

Deeply.

Like a sommelier with no shame.

You make a sound. You’re not even sure what kind of sound—somewhere between a gasp and a squeaky door hinge. Caleb turns around, eyes wide, nose still buried in lace. You both lock eyes.

Time stops.

You hear distant thunder. Somewhere, a dog howls. You're frozen. Caleb's frozen. Time's frozen. You think distantly, all that's left is to put on a blond wig and sing Let It Go in a blizzard.

“...I can explain,” he says, still holding the underwear like it’s a peace offering.

You raise your hand. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

He closes his mouth immediately.

"I'm going to pretend this never happened," you declare, backing away slowly like he’s a raccoon in the pantry.

Caleb nods like he’s at a peace treaty signing.

You turn to leave—but then it hits you.

“…Wait. Is this why you never complain about doing laundry?”

Caleb stares at the ceiling like the answers are hidden in the light fixtures.

“…It’s possible.”

“I’m right here, Caleb! A living, breathing woman! With skin and body heat! Why the hell do you need my underwear?!”

He shrugs helplessly. “...Force of habit?”

“HABIT?! HOW LONG HAS THIS BEEN A HABIT?!”

He’s pale now. His soul has exited the chat. "Honey, listen—"

You grab your head like you're in a telenovela. “My husband is a panty-sniffing laundry goblin. This is my villain origin story.”

“You make it sound worse when you say it out loud—”

“OH, I’M SORRY, IS THE SHAME GETTING LOUD FOR YOU NOW?!”

You storm off, dramatically, like a woman wronged by both love and polyester blends. Caleb tries to chase after you but trips over a basket. Underwear flies everywhere.

One lacy pair lands on his head like a tiny, tragic hat.

As you march down the hallway, muttering “I married a pervert,” one deeply disturbing thought slips in—quiet, traitorous:

...Why was that weirdly hot?

“Wait. How many times, Caleb?”

He frowns. “What kind of answer are you looking for? Ballpark? Weekly average?”

“CAL—”

[caleignii]

Caleb Fluff Headcanons

a/n: can't get enough of my sweet boy calebyy, so here are some headcanons that I think about him sometimes. My requests are open btww! Have fun reading dolls. (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+

Caleb who's love speaks softly—never with grand declarations, but in the quiet consistency of care. A warm drink materializes on your counter, perfectly timed to your worst days. The bulb that flickered last night? Fixed before morning. When the frost settles on the windows, your coat and gloves are already waiting by the door, touched by hands that never ask for thanks. He never says, “I did this for you.” But when you catch his eye after noticing, there’s a flicker of a smile there—like he’s trying not to glow too much. Like loving you is something sacred he’s choosing to keep humble.

Caleb after his missions, when the adrenaline fades and silence stretches thin, he drives—somewhere quiet, somewhere star-swept. He doesn’t speak much on the way, only reaches for your hand as though that’s all the grounding he needs. You lie beside him under the cosmos, shoulder to shoulder, listening to the universe breathe. Sometimes he whispers things—not to the stars, but to you. “When the stars get loud, I look at you, and they get quiet again.” You don’t always answer. You just squeeze his hand and let the silence cradle you both. Stars don’t speak, but Caleb does.

Caleb who secretly has an interest in riding a big bike. Okay here me out, with him as a pilot whenever he's flying in a small/open-cockpit plane—sends of freedom, thrill, and wind-in-your-face exhilaration that he may miss when flying sealed aircraft. Just like when riding a bike, the breeze during a fast ride contributes to that immersive, high-energy feeling, similar to low-altitude flying. The rush of wind on a fast-moving bike closely mimics the sensory experience of flying in an open cockpit or glider. Both activities provide an adrenaline rush and it attracted him who enjoy controlled risk and excitement.

Caleb's insomnia visits often, but so does he. He settles beside you, opens a worn book, and starts to read—not to pass the time, but to share space with you. His voice is low, smooth, like waves against the hull of a ship. You rest your head on his chest, feeling every word more than hearing them. When your breathing slows, he doesn’t stop. He keeps reading—quietly, carefully—as if the story might guard your dreams better than silence ever could.

Caleb has a photo of you he keeps hidden, tucked in the lining of his helmet like a secret prayer. Every mission, just before the launch seals him away, he looks at it. Only for a second. No one else sees. No one needs to. Once, you asked him why. He said, “Because there are places out there that want to strip the human out of you. But when I look at this... I remember who I am. And who I’m coming back to.”

Caleb doesn’t talk about his soft side. But you see it in the way a stray dog curls up at his feet, or how a kitten somehow finds its way into his arms, even on a space station. Once, you caught him crouched beside a baby bird, gently feeding it crumbs. He didn’t know you were watching. He just murmured, “You’re cold, aren’t you?” He looked up, startled, and gave the smallest shrug. “Someone had to help.” You didn’t tell him, but in that moment, your heart broke a little wider for him.

Caleb when someone flirts with you, doesn’t get angry, just quiet. A subtle shift. A glance. His fingers graze yours, almost like a question. Are you still with me? You smile at him—really smile—and that’s all it takes. The tension slides off his shoulders like water off armor. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, says nothing, but holds your hand just a bit tighter. The message is clear: I don’t need to fight for you. You’ve already chosen me.

Caleb even when the world freezes around you, hands stay warm. On distant moons, in frostbitten ships, when your bones ache from the cold, he reaches for you. Always. His palms are steady, wrapping yours like a promise. No words—just touch. Gentle, grounding, there. It’s not just about warmth. It’s about reminding you: You are not drifting. You are not alone. I’m here.

[caleignii]

PossessiveMechanic!Caleb/Reader

mentions of: smut, dubcon, kidnapping, somnophilia, stalking, p in v, possessive behavior, mouth spitting, cumming, breeding, abuse (?), masturbation, rough sex, orgasm, praising kink, sexual overstimulation, use of drugs, minor violence, probably panty sniffer, stockholm syndrome (?), yandere tendencies, forced pregnancy, caleb is totally a pervert.

summary: reader moves into a new town, unexpectedly ran to a hot guy who seems unharmful, that later on developed an obsessive behavior towards her.

a/n: english is not my first language so bear w/ me. :3

“Ughhh what now!”, you mumbled as you repeatedly start your car engine, only to it not responding.

Moving out is so stressful, having to go back to your old home to collect the things you've left behind, it's such a hassle and definitely getting on your very last nerves!

On the other hand, you couldn't help but feel a sigh of relief, moving onto a new town with scenery so breathtaking you could almost feel like your soul has been taken into the depths of cloud nine. The town was small but lively, and you loved that it felt safe or so you thought.

You're on your way back to drop off your last belongings and couldn't wait to rest, because of the entire week of you going back and forth. On your way home, your car decided to not be cooperative making you stuck in the middle of the town's street. You were still on the shoulder, trying to Google what the hell might have happened to your car, when a soft knock was heard in your window.

“Heyyy, I couldn't help but notice that you've been here in 'yer car for quite a while now, is something wrong?”

You stopped on your tracks noticing the tall, astonishing looking man that wore denim pants along with his white tank top that surely flexes his well built biceps, with a concerned look squinting down into your window.

You couldn't help but to stare at his sunset looking eyes that really lured your attention to, something about it somehow made your tummy tickles. “Miss?”

Lost in your thoughts the man seems to be worried since you're not responding who's clearly captivated by his looks. “Oh yeah uhmm, it's just my stupid car... I think there's something wrong with it”, “Do you think I could help ya'? 'm pretty good at fixing things if you may ask.” with a boyish smile, you couldn't help but to accept his offer.

I mean why not? Having a handsome and muscular guy helping you fix your car while looking so hot and delicio—, what the hell am I saying!? You screamed internally as you carefully observed how his hands glides thru the car engines for who knows whatever he's doing.

“Sooo what's a pretty girl doin' in here? Never seen you around before.” He asked, looking at you while continuing his duty. “I just moved in here for quite some time now, just finishing up my new home.” he hummed at your response.

Later that day, you've learned that the man who helped you was Caleb, you felt lucky after he said that he was the town’s only mechanic—a tall, easy-smiling man with grease on his hands and dimples deep enough to drown in.

Looking at the paper he handed earlier with his number written on it, he said in case your car acts up again. Remembering how he fixed your car earlier that day and refused to charge for labor.

“You’re new here,” he said with a shrug, “Consider it a welcome gift.” you stupidly smiled as the memories of earlier flooded back in.

You two became surprisingly close after that incident on how both of you met. Him occasionally showing up in your home, sometimes showing up unannounced with his usual sweet, boyish grin.

And the worst part? You let him every. single. time., ignoring the strange prickle so close to your neck, waiting to be weave in any seconds like a ticking bomb.

The first time he came to your house, it was just a social call—at least, that’s what it looked like. Besides, nothing could go wrong. right?

There was a knocked mid-morning with a white box from the local diner in Caleb's hand. Inside were apple turnovers and a note in careful cursive: Best in town. Ask Caleb if you don’t believe me.

You blinked, surprised. “You didn’t have to—”

“I didn’t. I wanted to.” He grinned. After receiving it, you invited him inside.

He stood awkwardly in the entryway, looking around like he was trying to memorize every inch. The visit was short. Friendly. He made a few jokes, complimented the paint colors, told her he’d grown up a few blocks away.

You told yourself it was nothing. Just small-town kindness.

“I figured you hadn’t gotten the lay of the land yet,” he said. “This place’s got good folks, if you know where to look.”

Both of you chatted not noticing the darkness that is settling in. Sometimes he would ask some questions like: “Do you like your new home?”, “Did you met any of our neighbors?” or even becoming bolder such as, “Sooo are you single?” which totally left you flustered.

After he left, you can't help but feel a strange feeling that seeps in your stomach, is this what they call butterflies in your stomach?

The next week, he showed up again.

This time, he had tools.

“Your mailbox is leaning,” he explained, already halfway into the project before you answered the door. “One strong wind and it’ll be flat. I had a spare post. Figured I’d help.”

You didn’t know how to say no. Not when he looked so sincere! Not when he smiled like he meant it.

And then the pattern started.

Every few days, he was there. Fixing things. Pointing out things even you didn’t know needed fixing.

Your porch light flickered once? The next day, it was replaced.

Your garden hose had a kink?—sure he left a new one just for you.

You found him once crouched in the side garden, dirt on his knees, pulling up the withered flowers.

“This place deserves to be kept nice,” he said.

Hesitation and anxiety starts creeping in every inch of your skin, as you began to feel trapped by his kindness. He never asked to come in—he just offered help. And always with that same half-smile, that practiced ease. It made you feel crazy for feeling watched. Paranoid.

Convincing yourself he was just lonely. Just sweet. Just a friendly guy who always has your back

But then came the incident with the door.

Certain you'd locked it that morning. But when you returned from work, it was slightly ajar. Nothing stolen. No signs of forced entry.

Only a coffee mug washed and placed back in the wrong cabinet.

Heart thudded as you stood in the kitchen, mug in hand. Told yourself you must’ve misremembered. That it was nothing.

You started cataloging every detail of your home like a detective in your own life.

Even taking photos of each room before you left for work. Marked the position of your silverware, shampoo bottles, the books on the shelf. You made a spreadsheet of timestamps and room temperatures and light bulb wattages.

“Am I losing it?” you stammered, feeling uneasy and stressed on current happenings.

“You said the mug moved?” Tara asked during lunch. “Maybe you did it and forgot.”

You smiled tightly, didn’t bother explaining. How could I make someone understand that it wasn’t just one thing? It was a thousand small things, like threads being plucked, one by one, until the whole fabric started to fray.

The toaster would be unplugged when I came home, though I never unplugged it.

My laundry would be a little too folded, neater than you ever managed.

The smell of someone else’s cologne would linger for a second too long in the hallway.

Until a week later, when Caleb stopped by unannounced again, tool bag slung over one shoulder.

“Thought I’d fix the outlet near your sink,” he said, already halfway through the door.

“I don’t remember asking about that,” you said.

“No, but I noticed it,” he replied, tapping the wall. “Could be a hazard. Water 'n electricity, y’know?”

You felt a hint of hesitation—but still let him in.

He moved through the kitchen casually, too casually, like he knew it better than he should. He knelt, tinkered with the wall. As you watched him the entire time, arms crossed.

He worked in silence for a while.

“Hey Pips, can I use your bathroom for a sec'?” the man says as he was leaning on your door frame.

He was gone ten minutes.

Too long.

You stood at the edge of the hall, listening. No flushing. No water. Wondering what else he could be doing taking so much time.

“Hey Caleb, are you good? You've been there for 10 minutes is something wrong?” you slightly raised the volume in your throat, abruptly knocking on the door.

When he finally stepped out, he smiled. “Yeah 'm sorry about that, just had a lil' tummy ache that's all.” Both of you went back in the kitchen shortly after that.

And you not noticing the slightly gap between the drawer where you put all your used undies and other clothes. You have so much underwear, two pairs missing shouldn't be a problem right? right.

Later that night, something inside of you just snapped. An ominous feeling on the back of your head that you kept ignoring but failed to do so. You can't help but to feel like you're being watched by some unknown.

So the very next day, you made your way into the mall, bustling every store you can that promotes security cameras.

A new camera system you had bought—high-end, cloud connected, motion sensors. You set up four cameras outside and six inside.

For a week, nothing happened.

Then, one night, all the cameras went black.

Simultaneously.

When you checked the footage, it had been wiped. Completely clean. Not a second of stored data. As if someone had never wanted them there to begin with.

You didn’t sleep that night. As you sat in the hallway with back to the wall, a knife clutched in your hands, waiting for a sound. Any sound.

None came.

But you knew he had been there.

Not just because of the cameras.

Because her toothbrush was wet.

After a long hours of work you've lost track of the time, and now you're here walking home in the dark as you keep yourself cautious and wary of your surroundings. As you were walking you couldn't help but hear footsteps joining with you, but as you turned back you saw nothing. no one. maybe you're just too naive and too dumb to notice the figure creeping behind the walls.

It happened fast. Too fast.

Before you know it, large arms embraced you from behind keeping you from moving away. “Let go of me! HELP!” You yelped, adrenaline rushing in to you as you tried to squirm.

“Shh shh, it's okay princess you have me now.” as the man behind coos thinking that maybe, just maybe it'll sooth your panicked nerves.

“NO! STOP! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME!” thinking you could escape, you kicked him on his knees, but falls into nothing.

“Aggressive aren't we? You left me no choice then, Pips” with that he took out a cloth from his pocket, shoving it onto your nose.

“No pwease, dwont do dwis” your muffled voices slowly vanishing into thin air, as darkness engulfs your sight.

“Sweetdreams my baby, you know that I love you a little bit too much right.” as Caleb nuzzles in your unconscious body, feeling the warmth and softness of your tender skin.

When you woke up, you find yourself laid on bed that you sure that isn't yours.

There's an invincible force keeping you pinned. You couldn't move.

You're in a state of confusion.

Panicked and scared.

As the blurred vision in your eyes began to fade, you tried to ease yourself by looking down only to realize that you're wide open, naked, legs stretched out. Noticing the white liquid slowly dripping in your cunt down to your thighs, it was extremely a lot that it's nearly pooling between your ass and the bed.

Too focused on examining yourself, you didn't notice the door creaking in followed by a calculated steps.

“Finally up hmm?” Caleb walked towards the bed, “I was worried I put a lot of dosage that made you unconscious for a day” the bed shifted as he sat beside you.

“'m sorry baby.” he gently caresses your cheeks. “Caleb release me right now.” you demanded firmly and cold, but ineffective to hide the scared tone in your voice.

“Or what? What'cha 'gon do 'bout it, Pipsqueak? Call the cops?” he threatened, faint chuckle was heard after.

“I want to go home please, I'll give you whatever you want. Money, you want money right? Just please let me go” trying to hold back the tears that can fall down any second. “Silly but you're in home, our home”.

“I don't care about your money, do you not get it? It's you. I want you.” he blurted with an airy voice.

“No! I don't want this y—”

“Stop playing with me, we both know you're lying when you have your pussy here so soaked in here because of my cock.�� as he traces your wet cunt with his cum still on the inside leaking out, from him fucking you multiple times while you were still knocked out.

“D'ya like my present?” he kept humping your lower half, until you felt something on his pants slowly arising.

“Why don't'ya be a good girl f'me hmm? I'll give you anything. everything.” as he was buckling his belt off, removing his pants along with his boxers that clearly has a stain of his pre-cum, turned on from the sight of you wide open for him still immobilized by his Evol's doing.

“Caleb, please don't do this to me.” you pleaded to him, glazed eyes looking at him praying to every gods to convince him to spare you.

But to Caleb, how can he stop himself when you're looking at him with those cute doe-eyes? It's your fault for being so adorable, that he lost all his control from keeping you captive, caged, away from anyone and everyone else. Just for him to see, to feel, to hear, to taste. They don't even deserve to breathe the same oxygen as you? He thought.

“My name isn't a safe word, y'know?” without a warning, he plunged himself deep inside you.

You swore your vision faltered as soon as he drilled his hard cock in your walls so wet, you can even hear the squelching so loud.

Plap Plap Plap

“So tight f'me. 'y so wet and you...nghhh said you didn't want this?” as he continued to fuck your brains out.

You feel your body easing up as his Evol starts to soften around you, allowing you to arch your back from the extreme pleasure you're receiving.

“Nggghhh...Caleb ahh s-slow please” gasping as of the lack of air you're getting in. “Can't aha...p-leasee” poor mind can't even produce coherent words from being too cock-drunk.

“Shhh...y'can take it yeah? I know you can baby.” huff huff huff was heard across the room along with the sounds of skin slapping.

His hard cock goes deep inside your pussy kissing your cervix multiple times, he watches how his member disappears—going in and out. in. out. in. out. in. out. Which evidently turned him on even more. “Fuuuckkk mmmhh”.

He descended towards your head, body-weight definitely crushing you down, his hands serving as a necklace in your neck. He doesn't squeeze, just holding it indicating that he's the one in-charged here.

“Look at you, moaning so loud f'me. Do I feel that good hmm?” as he licks your neck, even biting it that'll definitely leave a mark.

He didn't like that he was being ignored, so he pinned your neck down nearly choking you—using his other hand to slap you in the face.

“Answer me pretty or you'll be punished even more, wouldn't want that right?”

Unable to comprehend Caleb's words from being fucked out, you just nonsensically responded to him whatever it is on your mind. Your mind however, feels like you're above the clouds, drawn at the ecstasy that made you so high you don't even give a single care at the world; forgetting the defiance you showed from him awhile ago. You just wanted to cum.

“Caleebbb...pleasepleaseplease aaghhnnh. I do anything pweasee.” you whined at him, eyes rolled back, you surely are close. Feeling a hard knot building up below your belly button.

As your mouth agape, drool escaping your lips, Caleb spat on your mouth. His saliva mixing with yours watching as you obediently swallowed it without any protest.

“What a good girl you are. You're mine. You're my good girl” he slammed his lips into yours, resulting a messy and sloppy kiss. His tongue freely exploring you as his thrust became even faster, the speed so inhumane you doubt if he even is a human.

“Gon' cummm, gon' cum, ahaahh...nghh Calebb.” the lewd sounds you're making was enough to make his control vanish.

“Yeahh? You want my load so bad? Such a good girl.” unable to control himself, he shoots his cum deep inside your womb, still moving slowly as both of your juices mixed.

You had a chance to breathe properly as he pulled out his cock, watching his semen oozing out in your pretty little pussy. For a moment heavy pants filled the room, body twitching from the previous orgasm, closing your eyes as you sensed the exhaustion consuming your body.

You're finally drifting off to sleep, buuut Caleb has other plans.

“Not yet baby, uh-uh the night is still young, yeah?” as he followed the trail of his cum using his dick, shoving it right back to where it should belong.

“Have to make sure 'yer pregnant, so that you'll never leave me alone hmm.”

You sure have to brace yourself, 'cuuzz it'll be a long night for you~