#and because King mean something to Caleb | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

0wlettie · 3 months ago

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⏾⋆.˚─── caleb x fem!reader

⏾⋆.˚─── synopsis: lonely and feeling ridiculously horny because of your period, you decide to pass the time as you wait for caleb to come back. you're expecting your cycle to be finished when he does, so you have no issue with taking care of yourself. in his bed. but, he unexpectedly comes back early and catches you in the act...

⏾⋆.˚─── tags: 13.4k, gege usage, heavy talk of periods/sexual activity while on a period, like seriously i go into heavy detail so if you're uncomfy w/that kinda stuff i'd definitely skip this one, down bad reader, like super down bad reader, light angst, porn-without-plot, frottage, masturbation (reader), multiple orgasms, blood, like, i'm so serious there's a lot of blood in this fic, you've been warned, D/s dynamics, under-negotiated kink, light degradation, pet names (baby, pipsqueak), soft!caleb, but he's still wild af so there are some choice lines here, tbh reader is wild af too, they're both incredibly weird about one another, inappropriate evol usage, kissing, just so many kisses in this, crying (but make it sexy), this has a lot of feelings in it and i'm not at all sorry for it, fingerfucking, overstimulation, dirty talk, period sex, unprotected sex

⏾⋆.˚─── ao3 if you prefer ;)

⏾⋆.˚─── a/n: i'm so serious ya'll this is just absolutely disgusting filth that came to me during my own cycle, high as shit and way too horny for my own good. that combined with the one sc of this recent period sex fic with sylus…the thought in my head grew even LOUDER so yea, here this is. if it's not your cup of tea then please, by all means skip because i'm so serious, this is like, so fucking nasty and unhinged it's embarrassing. i'm warning you please heed the tags this is a lot ;;; title derived from Nasty by Tinashe because duh lol Minors Do Not Interact (ageless blogs who follow will be blocked without hesitation)

Being mindful of your period dates never came easy to you. Your particular cycle is pretty regular, but you have so many things going on in your head that those dates are pushed to the far, far back of your thoughts. Until you wake up one morning and you find yourself recreating a horrific murder scene underneath your sheets. Except in this instance, you were wide awake when you felt the inside of your underwear begin to stick to your skin. You’re just lucky you were able to get up before you inevitably stained the sheets.

Your stomach spasms, and you hiss as you curl up on your side, burying yourself into the dark brown comforter you're currently wrapped in. Your hands rub and squeeze the pudge of your belly, trying in vain to soothe the cramps currently attacking you. But they don’t do a thing to help, and you’re forced to curl up even tighter, digging your knees into your chest. This is the absolute worst and you wish you could just make it stop with your thoughts alone.

‘Maybe I should get a tracker? Or have it in my calendar?’ You let out a shaky sigh, fingers digging into the red and black pajama pants covering your legs. ‘Or maybe I should tell gege to remind me.’ The thought makes you wheeze out a laugh, groaning in pain when your uterus internally fists your guts—and not in the fun way. ‘Well, at least he’s out on a sudden mission. I should be done by the time he comes back.’ You think wryly, wincing when another sharp pain stabs through your abdomen. You were supposed to spend your vacation with Caleb, but right when you made it to Skyhaven, something urgent came up. He had just enough time to take you to his home before he set off for whatever Farspace Fleet mission he had to complete.

You’ve come to learn that answering your texts or returning your calls was always fifty-fifty when he was out on a job, so you’ve had very minimal contact with him since. Three days have passed without much of anything from him, and in the cold and empty apartment left behind, your only solace is his bedroom. With a king sized mattress and state of the art window dimmers, it resembles more of a cave after you make yourself comfortable. Presumptuous of you and certainly rude, but you honestly don’t care. You missed your gege, and now that he was back in your life, you couldn’t bring yourself to stay away; even if it meant crossing some boundaries.

You glance down at the hoodie and sweats you’re wearing. Even the boxers you have on now are his—lined with a thick pad in case you leaked around your tampon before you could get to the toilet. It’d be fine for the hoodie. But wearing his underwear and pants, while on your cycle? Risking staining his clothes with your blood? That was a level of strange you never thought you’d fall to, but here you are now; wearing his clothes while you wait for him to return from his top secret Colonel mission that he's not allowed to tell you about. You’re thankful you’ve got plenty of time to spare this visit—especially since this will technically be the first time you’ve stayed over since you reunited.

Your boss had actually forced you to take a couple of weeks off. You’re a bit of a workaholic, and with your job as a pencil pusher for the Hunter Association, that means that you’re constantly busy. There’s a ridiculous amount of paperwork involved with Hunters—property damage, travel costs, medical insurance files, new weapons costs, uniform costs, and the list goes on and on. It doesn’t help that you have no life outside of work, either. The few friends you have from college are now married and have whole families and careers to worry about. You can’t even remember the last time you saw them.

Your only focus was work—even more so in the months after losing Caleb. No family and no friends, you spiraled into the one constant in your life. You never went home, falling asleep at your desk far more times than you can remember. You used the free access to the Hunter training gym to shower, and used the cafeteria and vending machines to eat and drink. Toughed out the worst of your periods with nothing but work driving you. And because your department was so understaffed, no one batted an eyelash and allowed you to continue your unhealthy working habits.

And you probably would have done so for the rest of your miserable life too, if not for Caleb's sudden reappearance. Adorned with a new uniform, a new title, and a somewhat colder personality than you were used to, it shocked you so bad that you had no choice but to take some time off to figure out what the hell was going on. He still hasn’t fully explained to you what happened either, despite your many questions. Has just given you bare bones explanations to your blatant prodding; unsubtly changing the subject when he couldn’t say more. You wanted to be angry, and at first you were so fucking furious that you honestly didn’t know what to do with yourself. But that morphed into a desperate sort of joy after thinking it over for a couple of days. You could stay mad at him; avoiding his calls and texts, not answering your door, etc. Or, you could accept that you might never find out the truth and allow Caleb back into your life again. Allow your gege to come back like how you’ve wished him to in the countless sleepless nights you’ve had since the accident.

It was an easy choice after that.

Gradually, your life became less and less about work, and more about reconnecting with Caleb. And gradually, you began to revert back to the person you used to be. Your department also hired more people to help lighten the workloads, which led to an investigation into the crazy amount of overtime your department had accrued, which leads you here now a month after Caleb’s reappearance; four weeks of paid vacation with orders to use it all, because you still had at least three more to take before the end of the year.

And what better way to spend that vacation with the one you loved most?

‘It would've been nice if I remembered my period dates, though. I only have a few stray tampons in my bag, and this is the last backup pad in the pack I bought. I would order stuff, but I don’t even know if I can make it to the bathroom, let alone all the way to the front door. Can OTTO pick it up for me, maybe? Or maybe the lil robot will give me another one of those excuses not too.’ You groan into the pillow your face is buried in; squeezing your eyes shut when that tight fist in your belly tightens and twists. You want to scream, but frankly, you’re so tired that you can’t muster up the energy. It’s been a while since you’ve had to deal with this level of pain, and it was only the beginning of day two. Sure, you had the occasional bad cramp or your pussy ached every time you got up and moved, but that was usually between the third and fourth day. Maybe the stress had affected you somehow? Or maybe it was your diet? Whatever the case, it leaves you damn near immobile as you lay in Caleb’s bed.

You’ve got something random playing on your laptop behind you, and you let your thoughts drift as the pain in your abdomen ebbs and flows. Wrapped in your gege’s clothes, lying on his bed, drowning in his familiar and comforting scent, and knowing that he’s coming back to you lulls you into a light doze. The pain turns into a background sensation to you, blurring your perception of time until it becomes unrecognizable. You don’t know how long you spend in that state, only that you’re suddenly jolted up by the familiar pulse of heat that flares up in your cunt.

You fly up and out of the bed, windmilling to try and save you from tripping over the covers when you nearly faceplant. You hop around until you’re free, racing off to the bathroom once your bare feet hit the floor. You continuously chant inside of your mind to ‘please don’t leak, please don’t leak, please—’ all the way until you pull your pants down and sit on the toilet.

Five minutes later, you’re rewrapping yourself in the covers, with a fresh tampon and only the smallest of dots of blood on your pad. Your laptop is playing still, but this time you face it, taking in the time. 9:41 p.m. Later than you expected, but that also isn’t very surprising either. You readjust the laptop and settle into the covers.

You pull up the hood around your ears, taking in a big breath of the remnants of Caleb’s cologne and laundry detergent found in the soft cotton. Your body instantly relaxes, a sense of warmth and comfort overtaking you. Eyes glazing over, you snuggle deeper into the covers, rubbing your feet against the smooth fabric. The leg on the pants you’re wearing shifts after your leg moves, pulling down awkwardly and rubbing the seam on the crotch directly against your clit. Your hips jerk forward instinctively, causing the seam to brush against you again.

The warmth and comfort from before grows sweeter, almost. Slow and syrupy, a different sort of heat builds up beneath your skin. The breath you let out is weak, turning into a ragged moan when you move your hips again. A hazy fog settles over your mind as you grind your pussy into the coarse fabric of your gege’s sleep pants. Even if the pad and feeling of your tampon reminds you of the awful mess going on in between your legs, you find that the continuous gush of your slick and blood turns you on more. It mixes with the pain, making everything all the more intense for your mind to take in.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” You mumble out, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you desperately swivel your hips. One hard grind has the tampon in you shifting, and you bite into the fabric of the hoodie pressed against your face when a sharp burst of pleasure tightens that coil forming in your lower gut. You move to try and hit that angle again, but you can’t seem to find that exact spot. You whine, furrowing your brows as a piercing ache travels up from your cunt, shivering when you rub against your clit so hard it sends sparks traveling down your spine.

But it’s not enough. None of it is enough for you.

You try to move faster, rubbing harder against the cloth but nothing seems to work. You’re teetering along that thin ledge, so close yet so far from reaching the peak you crave. It’s enough to make the tears blurring your vision fall, a helpless sort of feeling welling up beneath your ribcage. You can’t bring yourself to reach down and slip your fingers beneath the layers covering your lower half. The thought of it embarrasses you too much. So you’re forced to grind against the cloth covering you, like some desperate and feral thing, fuzzy-brained and moving on the pure instinct to feel good. It’s as humiliating as it is arousing, so despite the flush coloring your face, you continue your movements. You breathe in when more wetness gushes from your cunt, eyes rolling into the back of your head when more of your gege’s scent filters in through your nose. The mental blur suddenly sharpens, and you have a crystal clear image of your gege in your mind.

‘Caleb.’

You can picture the look he’d give you if he realized what you were going through; the slant of his brows concerned, a sympathetic light in his eyes as his mouth curls into a little frown. He’s helped you before, during the worst of your cycles. Holding you within the warm cradle of his arms, playing with the strands of your hair and talking you through the worst of your pain, rubbing a soothing hand over your soft tummy when the cramps made you tear up and cry out for his help. Another part of you wonders how he’d look at you now, with you frantically humping the fabric of his pants; desperate and needy for the sudden urges flooding your mind. It excites you even more, trying to picture his reaction, what he could possibly do to you when you’re so vulnerable.

“Gege…” You don’t even realize you’ve spoken, memories of Caleb blurring your shaky vision. Like how big he felt wrapped around you, his chest pressed to your back while his palms slowly rubbed your stomach. The rough pound of his heartbeat as you felt it through the thinness of his shirt, his breaths quiet and warm as they puffed against the skin of your neck. New images branch off from the memories rolling through your head—little ‘what if’ moments that feed off the darker parts of your thoughts. They flick through your thoughts like a slideshow, showing you what you’ve been craving ever since you realized the true scope of your feelings towards your gege.

The heat burning you from the inside out grows hotter, the noises from your throat loud and pathetic even to your own ears as you helplessly grind back and forth, flashes of Caleb spurring you on. Fantasies of yours that haunt you no matter the time of day. Of his hands and the way they’d easily sink into the flesh of your hips. Of his lips and how they would plant messy, open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck. Of the deep cadence of his voice, whispering all kinds of dirty things in your ear as he toyed with the sensitive bud of your clit. Of his strong arms and how easily they’d hold you down to the bed, the heavy press of his body keeping you trapped underneath him as he bucked against you. The snap of his hips as they’d meet the backs of your thighs, the loud and obscene sounds mingling with the wet gush of your cunt; the tip of his cock railing you so deep that you’d be screaming—

“Fuck, gege, please—!” You choke when your orgasm sneaks up on you, legs snapping closed and spine arching so deeply that you feel a muscle in your back jump. Your entire body trembles from the aftershocks, mind whiting out completely as your brain fries from the intensity. A long string of drool slides down your chin as your eyes stare blankly ahead, chest heaving from the rough breaths you intake. Phantom touches to your hips and thighs make your hips jerk as another gush of fluid seeps through the tampon, and you let loose a loud groan.

You’re expecting the fire in your veins to calm, but if anything, the frenzy gets even hotter. You don’t feel satisfied in the slightest, and a sob builds in your throat when you realize that fact. The way your cunt aches with the need to be filled; the raw desire to have your gege buried inside of you, shaft covered in a mix of your cum and blood. You feel dirty just thinking about it, but that feeling doesn’t stop you from jerkily reaching out to snag a nearby pillow. You quickly drag it within the tight cocoon wrapped around you, stuffing it in between your thighs. The first grind against it has you sobbing, the tears returning to blur your vision as you flip yourself to rest on your stomach.

You squeeze your legs together when you feel a particularly wet rush of something slide onto your pad. You push your face harder into the pillow, moaning loudly when you buck your hips forward. You can feel a definitive wetness stick to your cunt after moving, the dizzying mix of shame and arousal spreading through your veins like liquid magma. Your knees sink into the soft bedding as you spread them, one of your hands cupping your tit as the other slightly holds you up.

The pain of your cramps is long gone, replaced with the itch of arousal that refuses to go away. No matter how many times you try to work yourself over, you can’t pass that peak again. It leaves you crying desperately into the pillow, its surface soaked from your tears and drool. Your thighs are completely sticky and gross, the fabric of his boxers sticking to the half-dry fluids staining your skin. Sensitive and shaky, you’re no closer to finishing than you were what feels like ages ago at this point. You need more than just fantasies, now. Flesh against flesh, breath against breath. You need him to help you, to drive away that burning itch that drives you insane with need and want. You need Caleb—you need your gege.

“Caleb, gege, need you so bad. Please, please need you…!” You whine, your words garbled from behind the pillow in your face. Your hand plays with the heavy sag of your tit, rolling the hard bud of your nipple as you rut against the pillow wedged between your thighs. You can’t stop your fantasies from returning, the images of Caleb touching you, of him kissing you, of him finding his way home in the tight clutch of your cunt. You can feel yourself leak through the layers of Caleb’s bottoms as you breathe in his scent again, a sick sense of pleasure lighting you up from the inside. You feel like such a creep, using his clothes, his underwear, his bed as a tool to help you jerk off. But it also gets you so hot and bothered that you can’t stop even if you wanted to. The thought of marking up his stuff with the scent of you, with your blood, your cum and spit and tears; all of it tips you closer and closer to the edge. No matter how guilty and dirty it makes you feel, you begin to rush towards that end faster and faster.

So lost in yourself, you don’t hear the distant ‘click’ of a door opening. Nor do you hear the sharp clap of shoes against tile, the sound growing louder and closer as you continue your frantic movements. It’s only when you’re reaching the end of your desperate chase, your pussy tightening around the tampon inside of you and the buildup of your orgasm cresting, do you realize that the door to Caleb’s room is open and the lights are being clicked on. You have no time to react, your eyes rolling into the back of your head when you finally reach the end.

“Gege!” You moan into the pillow underneath you, thighs twitching erratically around the pillow in between them. Your arm gives out on you then, and your entire body slumps forward to fall flat on the bed. A cracked whimper falls from your lips, hips kicking forward when the movement draws a weak spurt of something to slip down one of your thighs. It’s deathly silent for what feels like an eternity as your body shakes and your mind returns to you. You could say that you were finally done—that being caught in the act of jerking off in your gege’s bed has sufficiently killed off any traces of arousal, but you’d be a fat fucking liar if you did. You can feel the barest of traces of those nagging embers, smouldering quietly within the aching pit of your stomach.

“...Welcome back, gege.” You croak out after turning your head to the side, seeing Caleb still dressed in his fleet uniform. You think it’s the exhaustion that’s making this a lot easier for you to handle. That and the rush of endorphins in the aftermath of your second orgasm. Otherwise, you don’t think you could’ve looked Caleb’s way at all, wrapped in his comforter and looking like a debauched mess on his bed. Your chest heaves for breath as you watch his painfully still form, the angle of his uniform cap hiding his eyes from you. All you can see is the tight pink line of his mouth, teeth clenching so hard that you can spot a vein throbbing at the edge of his jaw. Your breath catches and you hate yourself a little more when you realize that this side of Caleb is getting you hot all over again.

“Welcome…back.” He echoes your words back, an incredulous kind of deadpan to them that would be funny in any other context. The coldness of his tone combined with the rigidness of his body spells nothing but trouble for you, your cunt fluttering around the tampon inside of you. Ignoring the sudden need to grind into the pillow still held by your trembling thighs, you sit up using your arms. Shakily, you attempt to get into a sitting position, but when moving causes a thin trickle of the mess in your bottoms to seep into the blanket, you freeze. You’re left in an awkward position, half-balancing on your spread knees; hair askew and face sticky with tears and drool.

“...welcome back, huh.” He laughs underneath his breath, darkly unamused. You open your mouth to try and explain yourself, though you don’t even know how you would, when you pause. Caleb reaches up to take off his hat, carelessly tossing it aside with one hand while the other begins undoing his uniform coat. Your mouth goes dry when he stalks forward, both hands now joining in on undressing him. Each article of clothing is thrown to the ground, leaving a trail from his bedroom door all the way to his bed, until he’s clad in nothing but his uniform pants and a plain white tank.

Your eyes dart across the broadness of his shoulders, tracing along the defined lines of his biceps and veiny forearms; the sharpness of his collarbones and the chain that glimmers against them. You’re so distracted by staring at him that you nearly miss his words.

“Alright, time to get up!” His smile is wide, voice oddly chipper; a complete one-eighty from his previous mood. But you aren’t fooled by his faux cheer in the slightest. You can see the lingering heat swirling within his eyes, the barely there threat lurking around the curve of his smile.

“Huh?” You stare up at him, visibly confused and a little uncertain—the high quickly losing its potency and your mind coming back to you fully. He doesn’t blink as he meets your stare, that smile on his face getting the slightest bit wider.

“You’re lookin’ a little sweaty there, so I figured maybe you’re a little hot underneath the covers. Unwrapping yourself seems like a good first step, right? So c’mon, up you get.”

You swallow when you get what he’s telling you, but your legs refuse to cooperate. They feel like they’re made out of jelly, the way they shake beneath the mean look in your gege’s eyes. Your gege who’s usually so kind and sweet to you seems anything but right now, clearly teasing you in your obvious flustered state. Not to mention, the blanket is hiding the disgusting mess you’ve made of his things. You know he’s going to find out anyway, but a part of you just can’t be the one to reveal how much of a pervert you are. Your shame, your desire, your pain—all of it whirs through your head, warring with one another and causing your hesitation. Your shaky and stiff limbs. The quiet rings out for a few moments as you helplessly look at him, the words stuck behind your teeth. Caleb thoughtfully hums, cocking his head to the side—like he’s thinking really hard on your silence. You both know why you can’t speak, it’s clear he can read it in your expression, but he still waits until you're squirming before he gives you an out. An out that’s accompanied by a truly patronizing look on his face.

“Ah, I see. I think I understand, you must need gege’s help getting up, right?” He sounds as if he’s talking to a small child; that lilting coo of his voice oozing condescension. Your mind goes blank when he leans forward, his eyes staring down at you, soft and cruel all at once. You feel small all of sudden. Too small to carry all of the different thoughts muddying up your mind. Too small to focus on difficult to explain emotions and urges. Too small to do anything but listen to your gege Caleb. You slowly nod as a subtle haze takes over your mind, and he takes that as blanket permission to reach out.

“Don’t worry, baby. Gege’s here to make everything okay again.” Slowly and watching you carefully, he untangles the blanket from around your body. You’re looking back at him as the fabric slides off and away from your shoulder, so you get a front row seat to the exact moment he catches sight of your lower half. His face goes through rapid-fire changes, too quick for you to catch. But the one he settles on makes your belly go warm, your heartbeat stuttering harshly. Helplessly fond, his lips drop into a more comfortable looking half-smile. A genuinely sweet affection lights up his eyes, momentarily encapsulating the dark look from before.

You flush so hard that you get dizzy from the rush of blood. Why is he looking at you like that? You can’t take it, not when you’re absolutely covered in dried blood, cum, spit and tears.

“That’s why you’re so upset then, hm? You had an accident while playing in gege’s bed?”

“Caleb!” You get a reprimand in the sound of his teeth kissing the back of his tongue. You whine out a soft ‘gege’ and you're comforted by his warm hand cupping your cheek, thumb rubbing against the hottest part of your soft skin.

“There’s nothin’ to be embarrassed about, you know. Accidents happen sometimes, and you’ve always been a messy girl, even when you try not to be.” He smiles when you shake your head furiously. You open your mouth to show him just how much you disagree with that statement, but you’re stopped when he lightly pats your cheek.

“How about we get you all cleaned up first. You can’t be very comfy covered in all that blood.” Before you can agree or disagree, though, he easily picks you up. You stare, wide eyed, as he carries you bridal style to the bathroom; uncaring about the blood rubbing off onto his shirt and bare skin from touching the inside of the blanket. Like he has no issue with your period blood staining the color of his skin, like you just haven’t seen him be grossed out by less egregious things like wasabi-flavored marshmallows. You think you black out for a moment from the whirlwind of emotions flooding your brain, because the next thing you know, you’re standing on your feet while Caleb starts the shower for you. You blankly stare at his back before you notice something in the corner of your eyes. A second pair of clothes and the last of your tampons sits on the sink, and notably, they’re his clothes rather than yours. Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to cover how you feel, and your eyes dart up and away because of it. You meet your own gaze in the mirror above the porcelain bowl in your haste.

There really is no hiding what you were up to, not when your face still reads like you’ve been railed within an inch of your life, eyes glossy and lips bitten red. You watch as your cheeks grow a deeper pink in real time, and you quickly focus on something else when it grows to be too much. You glance at your lower half, flicking between the heavy black swath trailing up the middle of the crotch to the wet droplets pooling underneath your feet. ‘You had an accident while laying in gege’s bed?’ ‘You’ve always been a messy girl.’ Oh you’re going fucking crazy replaying those lines in your head. It feels as if your face is on fire from how hot his voice gets you; how dirty you felt when he called you messy.

Your attention shifts to Caleb when the abrupt sound of water bouncing off tile startles you. Eyes drawn to the hunch of his shoulders, you follow the bunch and flex of his traps and deltoids as he adjusts the water temp. Your pussy throbs as your eyes trail down the curve of his spine, tracing over every dip and bulge you can see underneath his tank and pants. His feet are bare, and you idly wonder when he got rid of his socks before the sharp echo of his voice snaps you out of your daze.

“Water’s ready. I’m gonna bring in some fresh towels after you hop in, forgot to replace ‘em before I left.” He’s fully facing you now, so you’re able to see the direct aftermath of him carrying you. You feel as if you’re about to combust from the heat boiling beneath your skin, your mouth suddenly filled with so much saliva that you have to swallow. Knowing and seeing are two different things, that’s clear to you when you feel absolutely unhinged at the wild picture Caleb makes.

His hands are streaked with blood all the way up to his forearm, some of the lines rubbing off a watery pink from the shower. The entire lower half of his tank is wet, a few parts darker than the others as your blood starts to dry. You can see how the thin, wet material molds to the outline of his abdomen, able to perfectly trace those deeply cut grooves as he shifts. His pants seem relatively safe, save for the long drips you can see at the bottom of the leg. Then your eyes naturally drop to his feet, and there too are drops and streaks of your blood, and most definitely your cum, splattered across the tops. He shifts his footing slightly, and the vein that briefly pops out disturbs a droplet, which then breaks and curves down to drip onto the floor.

He doesn’t even seem to care or notice the blood. Actually, he doesn’t seem to care about any of it at all.

“Take as long as you need to, alright? I’m just gonna grab a trash bag and fix up my room before cleaning myself up. Also, I’m not sure when you last ate, but I’m pretty hungry. It’s late for delivery, so I’ll whip us up something to eat after. Maybe we can watch a movie or something if you aren’t too tired?”

Why isn’t he bringing up the obvious? Why is he just looking at you like normal, speaking to you as if he doesn’t know what happened—what you did in his bed. Why is he not grossed out when he’s covered in your fucking period blood; something that is even disgusting to you, and it comes from your body!

“Just leave all your bloody stuff in the corner right there, I’ll come pick ‘em up when I drop off the towels. I left you some of your tampons, but I noticed you didn’t have anymore? I can make a quick stop at the convenience store, I’m pretty sure they’ve got something to tide you over until the morning.”

You can’t help but look at him like he’s gone insane.

“Why are you being so normal about this?!” You don’t mean to get loud, but you do anyway. Caleb hardly flinches, staring at you with a raised eyebrow. Like you’re the crazy one here for being upset that he isn’t. You can feel the familiar burn of tears and it makes you want to scream. God, you fucking hate being on your period—you usually aren’t this emotional. Nor are you this impulsive when it comes to your urges, yet here you are. Trying to face the consequences of your actions, waiting for him to call you out, but he doesn’t. He’s acting like nothing ever happened at all. But the bloody proof is right here in front of you both and it just confuses you even more. His face instantly changes, and he steps a bit closer with his hands raised; like he’s reaching out to comfort you.

“I know it was an accident, pipsqueak. You didn’t mean it.” The soft tone of his voice paired with his gentle smile nearly has you smack him, and seeing that, he changes his hands in a placating gesture instead. But you shake your head a moment later, the anger bleeding into a deep seated guilt. Because you like the way he looks now. With your blood and cum staining his body and clothes. You enjoy the fact that you’ve bled on him, that you’ve marked him in a way that no other woman will. You’re a complete and utter creep and you need him to see that. Need him to understand, because you don’t deserve to be looked at with so much affection…with so much love. You blow out a shaky breath. You know what you’ve got to do; even if it’ll make you feel so much worse, you just have to get him to realize that you’re weird. Hastily, before you can lose your nerve, you step forward and crowd against Caleb until you’re pressed close together. His eyes widen a little, but he doesn’t move away from you. You grip the necklace dangling in between his pecs, tugging until he’s forced to bend down to your level.

“How do you know I didn’t mean it?” You ask quietly, the tips of your noses barely touching as his hair gently brushes against your forehead. The expression on his face falters and you feel how he tenses against you. You swallow, but continue despite how sick you are with nerves.

“How…how are you so sure that it was an accident, that I’m embarrassed because I feel sorry about what I did?”

“Pips—”

“Because I don’t. Feel sorry, that is. I’m not at all, in fact, I like the fact that you caught me. I like the fact that you’ve got my…my fluids smeared all over you. Like you’ve been marked by me, as if I have any right to claim you as mine.” You choke on the rush of words spilling from your mouth, raising your palm to cover Caleb’s mouth when it looks like he’ll speak again. His eyes bore into you, his pupils blown wide enough to leave only a thin ring of purple surrounding it.

“S’really gross, gege. I’m really gross! I’m a disgusting, perverted freak and you shouldn’t be so nice to me when I completely ruined your clothes and your blanket! Do you know that I’m wearing a pair of your underwear? That I made such a mess because I couldn’t stop myself from jerking off in your bed? That I lost control because I’ve missed you so much and being surrounded by your things drove me insane? If I had just been normal, or if I’d have ran to the bathroom, then none of this would’ve happened. I’m the literal worst, you know I am.” You ignore the fact that he’s now walking you backwards, hands guiding you by your shoulders as you babble, lost in a haze of self-pity. You run out of steam when he presses your back against the wall, and you jolt when the chill seeps through the back of his hoodie. You peer up at him with watery eyes when he wraps one of his hands firmly around your wrist. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly pulls your hand away from his mouth.

You watch him silently, not even trying to put up a fight. What’s the point in fighting now that your shame is out in the open?

“You are not the worst, so stop saying that.” His voice is rough; quiet and ragged in a way that means he’s trying his best to stay in control. Your heart throbs hearing the strain, and you freeze when he raises his other hand to gently touch the bottom of your face. The look in his eyes is intense; something so tenderly affectionate, yet deeply consuming. It’s a look you’ve seen in glimpses, but never fully directed at you when you’re like this—vulnerable and oh so small beneath his large hands and looming figure. You squeeze your eyes shut, wanting to turn away from that unbearably complex look in his eyes, but he keeps you in place with his fingers at the edge of your chin. You can feel the intense stare he’s giving you, and as much as you want to avoid it, you just inherently know that you can’t. Nothing you ever do escapes Caleb, and this is no different. So, reluctantly, you open your eyes and meet his stare.

He gives you a lopsided smile.

“No one gets to be mean to you, including yourself.” You sigh and roll your eyes a bit, acting as if your entire face isn’t on fire. As if you don’t feel warm butterflies fluttering within the space in your belly hearing him say that.

“Besides,” he trails off, your attention snapping back to him when you hear the heavy tone to his voice. His eyes are half-lidded, the fingers on your chin gently trailing down the side of your neck. He’s watching the path the calloused pads of his fingers trace, eyes growing darker when his nails cause goosebumps to arise along your skin.

“I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if I were to judge you.” The idea clicks in your mind faster than you can truly comprehend, and automatically, your eyes drop to his waist. He was careful to keep a distance between your bottom halves, and now you know the reason why. The bulge that greets you is prominent and big; big enough for your cunt to clench around your tampon when you try and imagine taking it inside of you.

“...” You open and close your mouth, your face heating up so quickly that you feel lightheaded. You can hardly believe what you’re seeing, but it’s as clear as day in front of you. Your eyes flick up to Caleb’s, teeth snagging on the fat of your lower lip when you see the rising flush spreading across his cheeks and nose. It’s oddly cute and it’s not an expression you’re used to seeing on him.

“So just relax, okay? There’s nothin’ to get worked up over. S’just you and me here. And you know I’ll always take care of you, no matter what you need me to do.” The unspoken implication within his words makes your already thumping heart race all the faster. He can’t…is he..? A part of you wants to deny what he’s saying; deny what he’s trying to tell you. But that part is small compared to the needy ache welling up behind the space of your ribcage.

“...you mean you want this, you want me—”

“Always.” The subtle tinge of desperation you can detect momentarily blindsides you, and you don’t bother stopping your words anymore when it fully registers in your mind.

“Even when I’m..I’m on my—?” You jerk your head to gesture at your lower half. Caleb hums softly, leaning forward while bringing your hand to rest on his chest. You can feel the rapid pound of his heartbeat as he cages you against the wall, pressing his free arm to rest above your head.

“You think a lil mess like that is gonna scare me away, pipsqueak?”

You shake at the cajoling tone of his voice, brain going a little empty at the look he gives you. The fingers gently grazing your flushed skin shifts to the heavy drag of his palm as he cups the underside of your neck. You can feel the rapid flutter of your pulse as it beats a harsh rhythm through your jugular, eyes glued to his face as he brings himself closer.

“I’ve always cleaned up after you before, haven’t I? What makes this time any different?”

“Gege, I’m too old to–!”

“You’re never too old for gege to take care of.” He dismisses easily, and you have no rebuttal to the utter surety to his voice.

“...you seriously want to…?” You have to ask again, have to make sure that you aren’t losing your marbles. As repetitive and annoying it has to be to say the same things over and over again. Caleb reassures you with ease, gently nuzzling the tip of his nose against your temple. You lean into the pressure, eyes closing when you feel the warm puffs of his breath as they brush against your skin.

“Just wanna take care of you, baby. In whatever way you need me to.”

It clicks for you, then. That Caleb is serious about what he says—is serious about taking care of you in that way. You groan low in your throat at the realization, wordlessly wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling yourself further into his chest. You feel his breath stutter when you press close, his already hot temperature rising as you rest your cheek against his. Neither of you speak as he slips his hands down to rest on your waist, the only signal for his sudden movement the slight shift of his feet before he picks you up. You gasp, fingers grasping the rounded out muscles of his biceps as he curls his hands on the backs of your thighs, spreading your legs and slotting his waist in between them. He presses close, and your hips instinctively buck against the pressure rubbing against your cunt, legs wrapping around his waist to lock at the small of his back.

Could you really have this?

Is he really going to give this to you?

You hide your face in the crook of his neck, crossing your arms behind his shoulders and squeezing tight.

“...help me.” You whisper, curling your hands into fists. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you aren't sure if you’re terrified or excited; maybe a bit of both, if you’re being completely honest.

“Help you with what?” He asks, and you want to scream at how calm he sounds, at how he’s forcing you to verbalize what you want.

“Gege—!” You whine, pointedly rocking your hips forward to convey what exactly you want. But it’s clear he’s having none of it, stilling your movements with the use of his Evol. The pressure is gentle but firm as he holds you back, a casual kind of dominance that has you stifle a moan within the sweaty and warm skin of his throat.

“You’re a big girl, right? So be good for me and use your words. Tell me what you need.”

You shake in his arms, your entire body going hot at the sound of his voice. The tone of voice he uses when he’s scolding you, like you’re some unruly little kid in need of a stern talking to. You feel so small, then. Too big for the shame keeping your desires lodged in your throat. Too big to worry about right and wrong when your gege is here now, willing to give you what you want if you just open your mouth and ask. So what’s holding you back, then, if you let all of your worries fade? If you follow your gege’s lead, everything will be alright because he’s never steered you wrong before.

“Need…need you to touch me, gege.” You almost sob, nails digging into your palms as you spill your guts. “Need you to make it stop hurting; need you to fuck me.”

“Yeah?” The hands on your thighs tighten, his voice growing rougher as he pulls you against him; bugle rubbing against your through your layers. You whimper, biting your lip as you desperately try to move. But his Evol has you stuck, clamping down and keeping your body in place.

“Please, gege, please fill me up—” You gasp when he groans and hefts you higher into his arms. This dislodges you from his neck. so you’re forced to stare at him as he swiftly pivots and heads towards the still running shower. The tops of his cheeks are flushed a warm pink, and his eyes look dark underneath the overhead lights as he clears the short distance in mere seconds. You can’t seem to stop the flow of your whimpering pleas as you tilt forward, whining into his ear and rubbing up against him as he moves. It’s driving you crazy how much you want him inside you. More fluid—a mix of blood and slick—gushes out to wet your pants, and you can feel it leak onto Caleb as he slides the shower door open.

His dick twitches against you in the confines of his pants as he steps into the shower, fingers digging into your thighs tight enough for you to feel it. You shiver when the heat envelops you, your already warm body getting hotter as the warm spray pelts your skin and clothes. Within moments the clothes you’re wearing stick to your body, but that becomes unimportant to you when Caleb presses you against the wall again. He keeps you there with the use of his Evol, your legs bent at the knee and spread out. You whine when he shifts back to look at you, freezing to stare unblinkingly at your position. The line of his jaw goes tight, and you see his shoulders move as he inhales deeply. You try to beg him to come closer to you, of course, not wanting to be apart for a second, but your complaints die on your lips when he grabs his tank from the back. He slips it up and off his head, rivulets of pink-tinted water smearing through the blood covering him and tracing the hard lines of his abdomen. Absently, you hear the distant wet ‘smack’ as it lands on the ground, but you’re too focused on the way that glinting silver chain sways against the sharp dip of his collarbones as he steps closer to you.

“You sure about this, [✦]?” The sound of your name is jarring, and you snap your eyes up to meet his. He’s serious as he regards you, his hands hovering over you as if waiting for your permission to undress you. You swallow at the weight in his gaze. It’d be intimidating, you think, if you weren’t so keyed up and ready for him to touch you. If you couldn’t see how excited he is for you, as much as you’re excited for him.

“Mhm, want you so bad, gege. Please, please touch me.” You feel tears bead at the corners of your eyes, the need coursing through you itching at your skin painfully. His expression softens at your words and he wastes no time in crowding closer, cupping the side of your face with one of his large hands. He gently brushes them away with his thumb, bending down so close that you feel his breath puff against your parted lips. The look in his eyes is intense; so many emotions flitting through his eyes too fast for you to catch. All you know is that your heart is quaking within your chest, a dizziness flooding your mind as his eyes drop to your lips.

“Okay.” His voice is almost lost within the steady pitter-patter of the water beating along the shower tiles, and for a moment, all you two do is stare at each other. The tension is thick between you two, growing thicker as one beat passes, then two, then three, until he finally moves.

Your eyes close when his lips meet yours, and it feels like fireworks are going off behind your eyelids. His lips are chapped, but still soft and warm as they move against you; the hand cupping your cheek titling your head for a better angle. You eagerly try and reciprocate as much as you can stuck in place by his Evol, cunt tightening when you hear him groan into your mouth. The kiss gets messier as he plasters himself to you, his other hand landing on your leg as he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip.

You instinctively open your mouth wide, keening when his tongue slips in. He explores your mouth, almost cautiously at first. As if he’s trying to be gentle and ease you into more intense kisses. Soon, though, that restraint seems to waver the longer you’re pressed against each other. Your own mind is barely hanging on by a thread, hips uselessly jerking forward, trying so hard to rub your achy clit against him and scratch that itch inside of you. But he isn’t close enough for you to, hips resting just barely out of reach. Uncontrollable whines fall from your mouth, muffled but constant as you two meet again and again, need lighting you up from the inside and turning your brain to mush.

By the time he pulls away from you long enough to breathe, your pants are soaked with more than just water. This entire time blood and slick have been leaking out of you, staining the already ruined sleep pants and sticking them uncomfortably to your skin. You try and wiggle, wanting to take your clothes off but mind too lost to really come up with a coherent thought. Caleb’s chest heaves as he looks at you, the hand on your cheek trailing down to rest at the base of your throat; the other slides further inward, stopping just shy of where the bloody crotch of your pants begins.

“Want these off?” One look at your face and he seems to know what you want without hesitation. You can only nod in confirmation, shakily breathing out when he repositions himself. Eyes flicking from your face to your body, slowly, he begins undressing you. He strips off the hoodie first, and you only realize that you’re not wearing anything underneath a split second before he gets it off you. He tosses the drenched fabric to the side, landing in a nearby corner with a pathetic ‘squelch’ you could hear even above the harsh spray of the water. It makes you wince a little, embarrassment flooding your belly with butterflies when your eyes flick to the hoodie and back to Caleb. Your heart thumps almost painfully in your chest when you see where his eyes are at; glued to your chest and the sway of your tits as you breathe. The look on his face sends a pulse of heat racing through your body down to your throbbing cunt, arms twitching to come up and cover yourself, but staying in place underneath the weight of his Evol.

“Gege!” You whine at him, needing to say something to get him to actually move. Needing something to distract you from the burning of your cheeks. Your voice comes out louder than you intended, though, echoing off the tiled walls and leaving a faint ring in your ears. He blinks, as if snapping out of a trance. Inhaling another deep breath, he brings his eyes up to meet yours, the corner of his mouth curling into a small smile. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of the sweats clinging to your legs, leaning down to buss a kiss to the side of your temple. His Evol releases your legs and they fall limply to hang, though your feet still don’t touch the ground as he keeps your upper half glued to the white tile.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re just too pretty for me to ignore, baby. Can’t help but get distracted.” You shiver when he ducks further down to speak into your ear, your eyes locked onto his hands as his knuckles press into the wet skin of your tummy. With your lower half now free, you squirm and buck your hips. The feeling of the clothes sticking to your skin is starting to make you upset, and you need them off of you right now.

“Hurry up and take ‘em off, gege. I don’t like how they stick to me—s’gross.” You wiggle around some more, but stop when he chuckles and pushes his knuckles against your belly.

“Alright, alright. Settle down and be just a little more patient for me, okay?”

You groan, but do as he says, stilling your jerking hips with a slight pout. He places a kiss on the tip of your ear, leaning his head against yours for a moment before he moves. You watch as he slowly peels the wet fabric down your hips, fingers snagged into the waistband of his boxers as he goes. The weight of his stare is heavy and present as more and more of your lower half is revealed, and your eyes widen when he starts to crouch down and follow the path of his hands. It ends with him resting his knees on the tile, pants and underwear pooling at your ankles while he stares up at you.

You want to look away from him—don’t want to maintain eye contact when you’re entirely bare before him, with him so close to you and the disgusting mess in between your legs. But you also can’t look away from the expression on his face. The naked hunger as he slides your ankle from the pile on the ground, bending your leg until it rests on his shoulder. He does the same for your other, and before you know it, you’re completely spread open for him to view; his face level with your cunt. There’s still some space between you two, but it’s clear that he intends to close it as he leans forward. It makes you clench down again on the tampon inside of you, and you panic when you realize you have to remove it still. You’re speaking before you can stop yourself.

“W-wait!”

He immediately freezes in place, eyes creasing in concern as he glances up at you.

“What’s wrong? Do you need me to stop?”

You bite your lip, legs twitching with the need to close and hide yourself. Stupid of you to get so carried away that you didn’t think about how exactly you were going to do this. You need to take your tampon out, as well as wash away the dried mess sticking to your inner thighs. Most of it was wiped away from the water, but a few stubborn spots still faintly tint your skin. You can’t just jump into everything right away without taking care of that…right?

“C’mon, talk to me, pipsqueak. If you need a break, or if you need me to stop we can. I won’t be upset.”

He’s so earnest and reassuring that your nerves immediately lessen. You breathe out slowly and shake your head.

“N-no, no. That’s not…no I want this. It’s just…” You groan when the words get stuck in your throat. Your hands twitch with the need to to touch him, to try and ground yourself so you can explain. Something must show on your face because the worried lines of his face ease and you suddenly have the use of your upper torso again. Your entire weight now rests on his shoulders, and your reach out to lace your fingers through his wet hair. You use one hand to slick it back and away from his face, your other dropping to cup his cheek. He doesn’t move any closer to you, but he does lean into the grip you have on his face. You watch him for a few beats longer before quietly getting out your thoughts.

“...gotta take it out, b-before we do anything. Y’know, my…” His eyes widen a bit, and they flick to the place in between your legs for a moment before they return to your face.

“That’s all?” He asks and you nod. “You still wanna do this, then?” You nod again, vigorously enough to make you slightly dizzy. His laugh is so quiet that you almost miss it, but you do see the endeared amusement on his face that has your face feeling unbearably hot.

“Alright.” He looks contemplative for a moment as he stares at you, something forming behind his eyes as his hands come up to rest on the outside of your thighs. Your breath stutters past your lips when he inches forward. He doesn’t break his gaze away from yours as one of his hands slide along the plush fat of your thigh, following along until he ends up gripping the curve of your asscheek. Your hand slips from his cheek and you anchor both of them to the strands of his wet hair, eyes wide. He hums, eyes going half lidded as he shifts so that he’s closer to your cunt, cheek brushing against one of your thighs.

“You want me to help you?” You make a startled noise, jerking when his fingers lightly squeeze your cheek, fingers dragging down until they meet the crease between your thigh and ass. You shiver at the look he gives you, genuine with an underlying darkness that excites you in a way you think should scare you. Like he’s almost…enjoying the idea of taking it out of you. You somehow get even more flustered at the thought, your voice coming out weak as you protest.

“I can do it myself, gege. You don’t need to…” It's hard for the words to pass through your lips, voice growing faint as his eyes grow wide and puppyish—as if he’s trying to plead with you.

“Mhm, I know that you can, but do you want to? Don’t you want gege to take care of it for you?” He trails his fingers up higher, closer to your cunt as he watches you, waiting for your answer. You want to say no, but how can you when confronted with that face? Your hesitancy crumbles within seconds, and you give him a nod as you avert your eyes from his. He doesn’t push for a verbal answer, and even though you refuse to watch him actually do it, that doesn’t mean that you can completely ignore what’s going on.

You can feel his fingers as they gently graze the outside of your cunt. It doesn’t take long for him to find what he’s looking for, and you jolt with a whimper when you feel him tug it out of you. You squeeze your eyes shut when you feel blood rush out as the tampon leaves you. You have no idea what he actually does with it, but you refuse to even look in his direction or ask. Embarrassment doesn’t even begin to describe the tumultuous feelings bubbling within your gut. So many conflicting emotions are spinning around in your mind, and it blinds you a little to your surroundings. So it takes you completely by surprise when you feel his fingers return to your cunt, rubbing along the slick skin of your folds until they meet the edge of your hole.

Your eyes pop open with a startled gasp, fingers tugging at his hair in your shock. Snapping your head down to look at Caleb, you notice he’s already looking back at you and when your eyes lock. He traces around your hole, teasing you with the idea of entering but never fully committing to it. You rut your hips forward, trying to catch the tip of his fingers, but he easily evades it, a small smile curling at his lips. He’s close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him, but he’s far enough away from your cunt you can’t feel his breath. You don’t know if you want him closer or not, or so you tell yourself.

“Eyes on me, okay? If you look away, I'll stop.” And before you can even react to that, he slips his finger inside of you. Your nails dig into his scalp when you feel the thickness of his finger glide against your walls, a whimper falling past your parted lips as your cunt clenches down tightly. He groans low in his throat, teeth digging into his lower lip as he pulls his finger out. You don’t have to wait long at all until he slides back in, slow and searching as he turns his head to plant messy kisses along your thigh. He eyes you still, nipping at your skin with his teeth when he brushes against a spot that has your legs twitching where they hang on his shoulders, back arching from the pleasure skirting down your spine.

“There we go.” He murmurs, and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head when one finger turns into two, the coil forming in your belly getting tighter. You're leaking so much that you begin to hear it over the loud spray of the water, a consistent ‘squelch, squelch, squelch’ as water, blood and slick wet his fingers. Your mind is completely filled with the stretch of his fingers, the rush of pleasure as it drowns out your shame and embarrassment. You buck into his hand with a loud moan, tears pooling along your waterline as you try to keep your eyes on him. It’s hard to meet that stare directly, but you force yourself to. You don’t think you could take it if he stopped now, not when you’ve been thinking about this for so long.

But you want more. Want more than the steady pace he keeps with his two fingers. You need something bigger, something to really give you the stretch you so desperately crave.

“Gege, please, want—” You choke on a whimper when he scissors his fingers on the pull out before slipping back in, brushing against that spot once again.

“Mhm, what do you want? Talk to me.”

Except when you go to open your mouth, all that comes out is another loud groan when he scissors his fingers, inserting a third digit that has you tugging at his hair again. You can barely speak as he fucks you with his fingers, teeth and lips leaving marks all over your thigh. You tug at his hair, trying to get him to stop so you can breathe, but that seems to only egg him on. He hisses into your skin, teeth digging in hard as his fingers thrust in and out of you faster. It’s driving you insane to feel this way, the heat boiling beneath your skin turning your thoughts to mush. Water droplets fall into your eyes, and you blink them away quickly, lips parting with a loud whine when you feel the barest hints of his fourth finger lightly stretch your hole. You nearly scream when your back arches sharply, the tight coil suddenly snapping as your orgasm rushes through you like a wave. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your thighs clamping down around his neck as you shake uncontrollably.

“Thaaat’s it, baby. There we go, lemme have it.” Caleb groans into the skin of your thighs, fingers stilling in their thrusts, instead focusing on rubbing at the fleshy spot inside of you that milks your orgasm for longer. The pleasure lighting you up from the inside seems to go on for an eternity, slick and hot fluid gushing out of your cunt and wetting his fingers and your skin as he continues to work you over. You quickly grow sensitive, but if anything, your hips jerk into his fingers, body and mind still craving more even when you start to squeal from overstimulation. You don’t even realize you’re chanting the words ‘more more more gege please gimme more’, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling as you clench around the thickness of his fingers.

You jolt back into awareness when your legs are roughly spread open and are pressed into the water-warmed tile behind you. It’s an awkward position for you, your entire lower half exposed from the depth of the stretch, a muscle in your leg twitching as your thighs make contact with the wall. The blood and cum coating your skin and the hair on your pussy gets cleaned off by the warm shower spray, the water making you shiver as it glides across your sensitive body. You blink the mix of water and tears out of your eyes, watching as Caleb stands up to his full height, face a deep-seated mask of hunger and need.

There are traces of new blood flecked along his skin, most of it centering on the fingers of his right hand of course. You even notice a few splotches along the dips of his chest, at the corner of his jaw and dripping down his happy trail to stain the band of his pants. It should make you feel disgusted, but your arousal only grows as you see some of your blood streak with water from the shower.

“...one more.” You barely can make out his mumbled words before he’s advancing towards you, one hand cupping the underside of your jaw and tilting your face up, the other immediately falling between your spread legs to land on your throbbing clit. The first touch of his fingers has your entire body flinching, an almost inhumanly guttural moan exiting from your open mouth when he mercilessly begins to rub. You quickly find that your arms are free when they reach up to wrap around his shoulders, your nails digging into the corded muscle.

“Give me one more and I’ll fuck you, okay? Need to, fuck, need to see you come like that again.” He pants into your mouth, nose to nose as he touches your clit, eyes feverishly desperate as he damn near begs you. You can only sob out in answer, tears blurring your vision when the pressure starts to build up within you again. Faster, this time, and all the more intense as you’re forced to just take what he’s giving you, your lower half held so tightly that you have no chance of running away from the wave rolling through you. And it bulldozes right into you, your voice pitching into a scream and cracking halfway through, bloody red welts left on his shoulder blades by your nails as more tears stream down your face.

You hiccup when his fingers gentle their movements, shivers traveling up your spine when he slides his fingers down the seam of your cunt. He litters your face with kisses; trailing them across your lips and cheeks, to the corners of your eyes and your forehead, even placing one on the tip of your nose. Breathless and wanting, he murmurs little encouragements into the kisses he gives you. ‘Good job, baby’ and ‘You did so well for me’ and ‘Good girl’. All of them serve to turn your mind into slush, a perfect way to distract you as he slowly inserts two of his fingers back into the tight clutch of your pussy. You weakly jolt when you feel it, brain melting out of your ears as he stretches you as wide as he can on his fingers.

“Doin’ so good for me, baby. Gave gege exactly what he asked for. So beautiful when you break apart under me. ” He plants a tender kiss near the corner of your lips, staring down at you with a crazed, love-drunk expression that makes your heart thump inside of your chest, a feeling so profound and deep that it makes you ache.

“Gege…” Your voice barely carries through the noise of the water, but the shape of your mouth says it all. He offers you a lopsided smile, gently nuzzling the tip of his nose against yours.

“Still want me?”

You don’t even have to think before you’re nodding your head up and down, garbled pleas falling from your lips as you try to push yourself closer.

“Yes, yes, please, gege, please—” He shushes you with a fond huff, thrusting his finger in one last time before pulling them out.

“Relax, alright? Gege’s gonna take care of you, just be patient. Can you be a good girl and wait?”

“Mhm, I can, I can.”

He hums and gives you a quick peck before backing away slightly. The hand on your jaw falls down to touch the waistband of his pants, and between one blink and the next, he’s completely tossed his bottoms off and you finally get to see what’s underneath. Your pussy clenches when you realize just how fucking huge he is; thick enough that your hand would just barely wrap around him fully and long. There’s a definite weight to the flushed shaft of his cock, hanging low even when he’s fully hard. A gush of slick leaks out of you, sliding down your cunt and the curve of your ass before the shower washes it away.

You want him so bad you think you’d actually die if he doesn’t get inside of you soon. You try your best to stay still and listen to your gege, but it’s hard when all you want to do is sink down on his cock; fuck yourself on it so hard that your mind fucking breaks from the pleasure of it.

“That’s a nice expression you’ve got there, pipsqueak.”

The grin in his voice is dark and smug, but you can’t even be mad at him for it because he’s earned it, in your opinion. Still, though. That doesn’t make handling the embarrassment any easier.

“Please…please don’t tease me. I’ve been good, right? I’ve been so good for you, gege, please fuck me.” You reach out your arms to him, a pleading look on your face as your lips tremble with the strain of not whining and crying out like a baby. You’re so close to doing just that it’s not even funny anymore. It’s all worth it, though, when Caleb easily caves and moves back toward you, his dick meeting the side of his thigh with a loud ‘smack’. A broken moan falls from your lips at the sound, and you think you have a bit of an out of body experience because the next thing you’re aware of Caleb’s face is close to yours. One of his hands is gripping your inner thigh, the other on the base of his cock.

“You ready?”

You truly don’t have the breath capacity to voice your agreement, not when you can feel the blazing heat of his bare skin seep through your own. You make some kind of squeak-grunt, because he slowly starts to rub himself against your cunt. Your eyes are glued to the way your blood covers his shaft, clumps and long strings of your cum spreading along the multiple veins you can see. It’s gross, it’s so fucking distgusting but you can’t help that it gets you even wetter, more fluids leaking out and smearing on his skin.

“Eyes on me.” He says, but he doesn’t wait for you to follow, simply using the force of his Evol to tip your head up.

“Deep breath, okay?” You nod and do as he tells you, bracing yourself for the stretch when you feel the tip of his meaty cock slide down to your hole. Your fingers dig into his shoulders again, chest heaving as you both watch him move.With your blood and cum slicking the way, he slowly eases his dick past the tight ring of your hole. Nothing, though, nothing could have prepared you for the sheer girth of his cock as he slides deeper, stretching you so wide that you think you’re being split open. Your breath knocks out of you with a wheeze, lips falling open; overwhelmed by the sheer amount of feeling igniting your nerve endings. Your fingers drag down his shoulders to his chest, your back arching as far as it can go. Your entire head would have bumped against the wall if not for Caleb’s Evol. Inch by agonizing inch he pushes inside you, bullying his way through your clenching walls as you sit there and take it.

“So fucking tight.” He mutters, voice choked as the grip he has on your thigh turns bruising. Like he can’t help but lose control. You pussy grips him harder at those words, causing him to let out a bitten off curse as he fully seats himself in you. The tip brushes against something in you that has a ragged moan tumbling from your lips, going cross-eyed as your fingers scrambling at his chest when Caleb shifts minutely.

You come.

It’s unexpected, how strongly your orgasm barrels into you. A surprise because you didn’t even realize you were close again, but here you are; a shrill scream leaving your mouth as your cunt clamps down so tight on his cock that you feel as if you’re sucking him in deeper; so deep that he has no choice but to stay within the wet warmth of your pussy for forever. You have no idea how long the wave lasts that time, everything around you becoming utterly meaningless in the face of such an overwhelming emotion. Coming back to yourself later, you blink the spots out of your vision, tears falling down your cheeks as you fight to breathe. He’s so…big; big enough that you’re positive you can feel him in your throat and you whimper when you can feel the scorching heat of him twitch inside of you.

Blearily blinking the last of the colors out of your eyes, you turn your attention to Caleb. He’s standing stock still, the hand that was guiding him now resting on your other thigh. His eyes are squeezed shut, lip stuck underneath his teeth as his entire frame subtly shakes. Veins bulging as a flush coloring his cheeks, it’s clear that he’s trying his best to give you time to adjust, to recover from your fifth orgasm of the night. But you don’t want that—you want him to fuck you, regardless of your current sensitivity.

“Gege…gege it's okay. Just—fuck, please move I’m ready, I promise—” You gasp when he suddenly looms over you, his eyes dark as the grip on your thighs turn harsh.

“You’ve gotta be sure, baby. I don’t know if I can hold back once I’ve started, so please,” He groans out when you clench down on him, “wait if you need to. I don’t mind.”

You whine and shake your head. You physically can’t wait any longer. Not when you can feel him like this.

“No, no, I promise I’m ready. It’s all I ever wanted, please don’t make me wait any longer, gege, please.”

You can physically see the moment he snaps.

“Don’t cry about it later then.”

And then he’s lifting your thighs in his wide and warm palms, pulling them up so that they rest on his chest. Your knees hook over his shoulders as he folds you in half, squishing you against the tile. It’s a tight squeeze and unbearably hot as your breaths mingle together, your arms bent at the elbows and stuck in the valley of your tits. But you don’t mind the position, not when you can feel all of him press into you, wet skin against wet skin. How can you care that you can barely breathe when you can feel how much deeper his cock gets in you? He shifts his feet, and the movement has you keening out loudly when the tip stabs into your cervix. He grunts out something too low for you to understand, but that all falls to the wayside when he plants his hands on the wall next to your head and really begins to move.

‘Plap plap plap plap’

Over and over and over again, the tip of his cock pounds against your cervix, the sound of his thighs meeting your ass loud and lewd combined with the moans you emit, but the noises he makes are even worse than that. He doesn’t stop talking to you as he fucks you against the wall, mouth pressed to your ear saying things so dirty and unlike the kind gege you know that it makes your head spin.

“Feel so good wrapped around me, baby. So warm and wet and fuckin’ tight.”

“She’s even better than I, ngh, imagined–fuck. You like that, pipsqueak? Like hearing how much I’ve thought about bending you over and wrecking this cute little pussy of yours?”

“Messy little girl, you’re leakin’ all over me. Hear that, baby?” ‘Squelch.’ “Y’hear how much she likes the way gege fills her up?”

It’s all too much for your brain to handle, embarrassment and arousal tangling up the wires in your mind. All you can do is take whatever your gege gives you, crying and moaning and whining as he repeatedly plunges the tip of his cock into the one spot that sends sparks lighting across your vision. You can tell he’s getting close when the filth spewing from his lips grows a lot more sweet, the pound of his hips growing faster and off-rhythm.

“You feel like a dream, baby. Sucking me in so fuckin’ good and moanin’ so pretty for me.”

“Never gonna let you go ever, ngh. Not when this is all I ever wanted—when this is all I ever needed.”

“You’re all gege’s, right? All for gege to look after, to make you feel good. All for gege to love.”

You feel as if your heart is about to burst out of your chest, your ears ringing with his words as tears fill your vision. He…he loves you? Like, like—

“Gege–!” You cry out, needing to see his face. You have to—you can’t say anything back until you do.

Without skipping a beat, Caleb raises himself up and meets your stare, bare and open in front of you. There’s no fake cheer or mean glint. All you see is Caleb to his barest and most pure form, stripped down to nothing but the deep love and affection in his eyes.

“I love you too, gege. Love you so much.” Your voice cracks over the words, tears dripping down your cheeks as you demand him with your eyes to come closer. And he does, easily engulfing you in his entirety. He drags his lips across your cheeks and lips, sharing breaths as he stares at you like you’re some cosmic wonder. Like you’re everything he’s ever dreamed of. He mumbles ‘I love you’ over and over again like a mantra, eyes going glassy and unfocused as his thrusts become more and more erratic. It takes one, two, three more pumps and it’s over for him. You feel it as his hips stutter and his face slackens, eyes fluttering shut as he leans his forehead against yours. Warm and thick cum fills you to the brim, mixing with the blood and slick. The sounds are absolutely filthy, but you feel anything but when his lips press against yours in the sweetest kiss you’ve shared all night. Your cunt squeezes even tighter around him once that thought settles, something that forces him to let out a high-pitched whimper that you’ve never heard him make before. It makes you proud, then. That you could wring such a vulnerable noise out of your gege. Groaning, he drops his head to your shoulder and allows your legs to fall and wrap around his waist. Using his Evol, he sets the both of you down gently on the shower floor, turning off the water and allowing you two to breathe in a calm quiet.

“...You mean it, baby?”

You don’t hesitate to answer, despite your throat feeling dry and achy.

“I mean it. Love you so much, gege. So, so much.”

He laughs, light and wondrous as he squeezes you in his arms, peppering more kisses along your sweaty hairline. You giggle with him, so, so tired yet so happy as you snake your arms around his torso and lean against him. As crazy as these circumstances are…you are glad that you were able to finally bridge that gap between the two of you.

Even if you had to expose a side of yourself you’d never expect to show.

abrupt ending is abrupt :D no but seriously this is sooooo crazy like, i'm still in shock that i've written this much for this idea; but i actually really ended up putting some of my personal feelings/experiences in this and it was kinda cathartic i'm ngl; now, if you'll excuse me, i think i'm just gonna go hide under a rock while i deal with all the emotions this made me feel ^^

#owlettie's works #owlettie writes #lads caleb #love and deepspace #caleb love and deepspace #caleb x you #caleb x reader #caleb #caleb smut #l&ds caleb #l&ds #lads x you #lads x reader #lads smut #tw periods

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deepspacenova · 6 months ago

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Zayne’s insomnia + Sylus being the perfect cure HCs

Zayne x Sylus (x Reader)

Reader is third wheeling in like, this whole list (but somehow I feel like many of us won’t mind). Inspired by the replies in this post with @leighsartworks216 where we spiraled about Zayne + Sylus… dynamics that made my brain go into full HC mode.

[I also have some HCs for Zayne x Caleb (x Reader) if you, too have the same need to be sandwiched between these men as I. ]

Sylus taking care of day to day Onychinus business when he starts to notice traces of Zayne around the house at night: a medical tome left open on the coffee table, a glass of ice water (but mostly ice) on the counter, one of Zayne's rings on the end table;

Pretty sure he understands, Sylus ventures out of his office more often. Each time he sees Zayne, he looks more exhausted but the one time Sylus raises a brow at him, he’s brushed off with an, "I'm fine.";

Sylus, of course, takes it as a challenge and makes it his mission to become the biggest tease. I mean, he's king of pushing the limits of your self control, so Zayne’s cinder block wall exterior is the ultimate challenge and he’s set on tearing that shit down brick by fucking brick;

It starts with touches. Brushing Zayne's hand, playfully squeezing the back of Zayne’s neck when he walk past him on a business call, using his evol to pull Zayne's books, phone, snacks out of his hands;

But then there's Sylus' words. And when it comes to those, Zayne's a goner. He's used to you being forward in your affections with him but he can't help but clear his throat at Sylus' double entendres and flirty quips, or feel heat in his abdomen when Sylus uses his drawling rasp;

"You’re always so tense, Z. Want me to loosen you up?";

"Those medical texts aren't doing anything to put you to sleep. Maybe you need something that penetrates deeper... into that overactive mind of yours.";

"I know you're the doctor, but maybe you need someone else to prescribe your... treatment tonight.";

It’s not long before it becomes a subconscious thing for Zayne — seeking out Sylus whenever he jolts awake at night. Zayne's very adamant that it’s because he doesn’t want to disturb you in bed though (sure baby boy);

But there's something about Sylus’ ruthless teasing and the mind games they play that has him tired out within an hour of even the worst of his nightmares;

And he'd never admit it out loud but sometimes, Zayne falls back asleep imagining the satisfaction he'd get from finally silencing the Onychinus leader's teasing by stuffing his cock down his throat;

Of course Sylus can tell when Zayne’s frustration and tension finally snaps. His new favorite thing is seeing Zayne try to resist him before he gives up and crawls back into bed;

Sylus knows exactly how to wear him down. Sometimes, it’s pulling the book from Zayne's hand with his evol, only to say "Careful, doctor. Grabbing it like that might get you into trouble,” when Zayne reaches over to snatch it back;

Sometimes he sneaks up behind Zayne, kissing the back of his neck while his Evol tugs Zayne's hips back against him;

Cut to Zayne, pants pulled down to his ankles, legs over Sylus's shoulder, getting the best fuckin blow job of his life. Sylus holding onto his thighs, refusing to let the doctor hesitate to squeeze around his head. Zayne's hand in Sylus's hair, pulling and tugging and trying to keep some semblance of control;

Zayne throwing his head back against the couch, breath choked in his throat, hand tight in Sylus's hair to keep his nose pressed to his stomach, but then Sylus pulls off of him. It's frustrating, it draws unexpected noises from him. And Sylus just smirks and says he promised to tire him out, kissing all up his hip and legs; (credit to @leighsartworks216 for these pieces of genius).

On particularly bad nights, Zayne goes to the balcony to catch his breath and some cold air to calm himself down. One night Sylus, effortlessly smug with the phone at his ear, at work, uses his evol to force Zayne to his knees. "Handle it today," he says to the person on the phone, "you know how I like to put men in their place.";

Speaking of, Sylus loooves edging Zayne. Leaving him a panting, writhing mess, pulling away just when Zayne’s hand tightens in his hair or his breath hitches in his throat. “I said I’d tire you out, but I never said I’d make it easy.”;

For a guy who doesn't say much, Zayne's vocal and very demanding in the heat of the moment - which wakes you up sometimes.

Knowing all about Sylus' scheme to tire Zayne out, you love sliding into bed hand pressed to his chest, "Doctor Zayne, your heart is racing, maybe we need to do some tests?" Sylus chuckles darkly, watching Zayne’s eyes flutter between both of you. The idea of you both teaming up to tire him out finally makes Zayne’s control slip;

The best time of day is twilight, a few hours before you and Zayne start the day, as Sylus is ending his. The three of you fall into bed, Zayne's body is exhausted and his mind is quiet. Barely keeping his eyes open when his fingers twine with yours. Sylus pulls you close from behind, his hand on top of both of yours. Sylus smirks at both of you, proud of himself. "The only nightmare you two are allowed to have is me."

#i just realized how not okay i am over these two #can you tell i need to be SANDWICHED between these men #zylus #zayne x sylus #sylus x zayne #sylus x reader #zayne x reader #sylus #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #zayne #lads zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne love and deepspace #snowcrow #l&ds #love and deepspace headcanons #nova yapping

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bunni-v1 · 16 days ago

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Strawberry Week

🍓My period just started and boy is it actually the worst. It always fucks with my heart more, and I HATE the episodes I have while I’m sleeping. This is comfort for me, and it’s Bunni targeted so.

TW: Periods; Mentions of period sex; that’s it

( @cilomarc zayne/sylus tag kisses)

ZAYNE is the king of caring for you during your period. Not only is he a literal walking encyclopedia on the issue, but he’s a total sweetheart when it comes to your care. He seems to know what you want or need before you do, already handing it over before you can open your mouth. Heating pad? Check. Chocolate? Check. Favorite blanket? Check. He emphasizes rest and comfort over all, because he finds it a bit ridiculous that you’re expected to work when your body is telling you to not to. He’s also got your entire cycle memorized from start to end of the month, and if something changes he’ll know before you do. He knows when you want sex, knows when you want to be left alone, knows what days your cramps are the worst — he just knows it all. It’s incredibly comforting to have someone who just knows what to do every time. It’s a relief that he’ll take care of it without you having to ask.

Our sweet starboy XAVIER can be a little dense, but not intentionally, and that’s not me saying he’s stupid. He just… forgets about it every month. He’s got a lot going on in that head of his, you can’t blame him for letting it slip his mind. All it takes is one tiny reminder, though, and then he’s jumping into care mode. He does have to be told what you need, because he doesn’t want to mess up and make things worse. You have this literal soldier at your beck and call the whole week of your period. “Xavie, I want…” and he’s already moving to get it for you. He loves to take care of you and, while he won’t admit it for fear of you swinging at him (though the thought of it makes him smile), he thinks you’re awfully cute on your period. Irritable, argumentative, pouty, and oh so needy. It’s too adorable, he can’t help love it.

RAFAYEL and periods do not mix. You’re grumpy, he’s sassy, it’s a recipe for disaster. He’s either pissing you off or making you cry, and both options make him want to cry. Not to say he’s a horrible partner, though, those moments are quite rare and only happen when he’s had a particularly rough day. He’s very good at taking care of you — he actually thrives off it. While he normally prefers to be pampered like a princess, getting to care for you when you’re usually so stubborn is a special treat. Deep massages that get your bones feeling like jelly, warm baths together while he hums lullabies in your ears, feeding you chocolates while you curl up in his lap. Oh, and, period sex. He’s not afraid of blood, and he knows how beneficial sex can be for the human body during this time. He would be a horrible partner if he didn’t offer you relief!

There is nothing to be wanted for when SYLUS is taking care of you. He can smell your period coming before you even notice it, and as such makes the proper steps to prepare for it. He’s got his room set up just for you, all your favorites waiting around for your comfort. And, of course, he makes himself ready and available whenever you need. While he can’t always be there physically, he’ll happily take a phone call, even if it means risking a deal. You are more important. You also have Luke and Kieran who, while annoying, are also very helpful at keeping you in a good mood! If Sylus isn’t there to survive, the twins are, and for once they don’t argue with you when you ask them for something. When Sylus is there, he’s like your own personal heating pad. He runs hot, and he’ll let you sprawl over him whatever way is most convenient for your comfort.

There’s this weird idea that CALEB kinda sucks in a relationship, and while he’s a bit inexperienced, he’s not stupid. He’s had your cycle memorized since you were kids, he keeps track of it and any fluctuations in a little notebook. Needless to say, he knows what he’s working with, and he’s good at what he does. What’s particularly nice about Caleb, on top of his ability to provide what you need and want, is that it’s not a big deal to him. He’ll poke at you like he always does, tease you for acting silly, and still somehow make you feel good about it. You’re not a different person because you’re on your period, so why would he act like you were? Best part though, he’s your personal chef, and he’ll satisfy all of your cravings. ALL of them. He thrives on taking care of you, and your period is (selfishly) one of his favorite times of the month because of this.

#bunni babbles 🍓#x reader #bunni's treats 🧁#lads x reader #caleb x reader #sylus x reader #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #lads caleb x reader #lads sylus x reader #lads rafayel x reader #lads xavier x reader #lads zayne x reader #zayne x reader

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enyaliuswrites · 3 months ago

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➽ Chasing the One Who Hunts

Prince!Caleb x Spy!fem reader 100 followers special. 2.11k words.

Prince LADS Masterlist

Prince!Caleb, who’s a great prince. An awesome prince, actually. As commander of the royal army, he’s a force on the battlefield, but it’s his warmth that truly wins hearts. Everyone knows him—not just as the prince, but as someone who’s been there for the people. He cooks with grandmothers on weekends, tutors children, and plays with them in the streets.

Prince!Caleb, who isn’t even the crown prince but others call him otherwise. His older brother drowns himself in sorrow and indulgence, while Caleb carries the weight of the royal family’s expectations. From the moment he could remember, his parents boasted of his greatness, and he refused to let anyone call them liars. So he proved every single boast of their right.

'Caleb will be the finest swordsman in the kingdom.' So he became one. 'Caleb will be the sharpest strategist.' So he mastered the art of war. 'Caleb will be the greatest king our bloodline has ever seen.' Well… he’d make sure of it.

Prince!Caleb, who’s loved by everyone, except for his mother. Why? Because he’s turning down every single marriage proposal that his mother has arranged for him. Whether it’s making himself seem unappealing, disappearing at the last minute, or simply refusing to acknowledge her existence, he’ll do whatever it takes to avoid wasting time on someone he doesn’t care for.

Prince!Caleb, who sees through every smile and flattering word. Women approach him with hopes of securing a life of comfort by his side, while men seek his favor to leech off his power and wealth. No one comes to him without a hidden motive, and that’s exactly why he despises them all. Yes, he’s a prince and yes, he fulfills his duty immaculately. But that doesn’t mean he has to enjoy every single moment of it.

Prince!Caleb, who is now forced to take a bride. His mother refused to let him enter his fourth decade without a partner to care for him, to continue the bloodline. Yet as he stands in front of the five chosen candidates, he can’t help but feel disgusted by them. He keeps it well-hidden, of course, but the truth is clear to him. Anyone who made it this far—who survived the brutal selection process—had to be ruthless, calculating, and dangerously skilled. And that is what he hated.

Prince!Caleb, who recognizes one of the brides as the same woman he had once bumped into on the street and given his cloak to cover a water stain on her clothing. The coincidence is too perfect, too convenient. As he studied you standing in front of him he knew something was wrong. So, to be sure, he decided to keep you close. And before long, his suspicions were confirmed—his first impression of you had been right all along. That you were indeed a spy from the enemy kingdom.

You never thought that it would work out. Well, you had a lot of hope but hoping isn’t the same as being a hundred percent sure. So when the prince chose you to be his bride you felt your heart skip a beat. The wedding was a big ceremony and you would’ve been happy if it weren’t for some familiar faces that you saw in the crowd. The reminder that you still weren’t free. And that’s what drove you to complete this mission. Your last mission.

The blueprints of the castle and Caleb's life.

But staring at his peaceful undisturbed face now made you have second guesses. The way his hair barely covered his eyes, how he held you close and how his chest slowly raised and fell from his breath. He had treated you nothing but the absolute best.

He had never overstepped any boundaries. Gave you his cloak, the cloak that only the royal family could wear even before your marriage. Made sure he always had time for you. He remembered the flowers you adored, the dishes you savored, the clothing you preferred. It was as if he completed you in ways you had and hadn’t realized you were missing.

“Morning, beautiful. How’d you sleep?” His gravelly voice pulls you back to the present, and you find yourself smiling at him. His lilac eyes glinted in the sunlight as his lips curled into a smile—one that actually reached his eyes, unlike the practiced ones he gives to the public. And that’s what distracted you. As a spy, reading people is second nature, so realizing that Caleb only ever smiled like this around you… it cracked something in your resolve.

“I slept fine. You?” Your voice comes out calm, but softer and higher than usual. Something about being near Caleb makes your stomach flip and your heart race—and that terrified you.

“I had a nightmare that I lost you. But other than that I slept fine.” He glances up at the towering castle ceilings, his eyes narrowing as if lost in thought. Then, just as quickly, he turns back to you with those big, pleading eyes locking onto yours. “Not even a little comfort? I’m suffering here.”

Caleb's bottom lip jutted out in a subtle pout as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping securely around your smaller frame. In that moment, you weren’t sure whether you wanted to strangle him or yourself—maybe both. But instead, you just sighed and held him tighter, letting the silence speak for itself.

The grey feathers of the pigeon were getting everywhere as it flapped its wings furiously on your window sill as if to say “What’s taking so long, woman?!” Some were scattered on your clothes and the wooden window sill, while some was on the floor inside the room.

The letter had arrived three weeks ago, setting this day as the moment to send the castle’s blueprints to your kingdom. Yet, instead of acting, you found yourself staring out the window for hours. The messenger bird shifted restlessly, growing impatient with your hesitation. The blank piece of paper you held in your hand felt a lot heavier than it was supposed to be and even with the bird pecking your hand you couldn’t bring yourself to draw or write anything on it.

It wasn’t your fault though. How could it be? They never taught you to not fall in love, only how to lie, deceive and kill. You had tried to ignore this gnawing feeling for months but now you had to face it head on. You were falling for Caleb. No. That’s wrong.

You’ve already fallen for Caleb.

And hard too.

That’s exactly what Caleb had wanted. Of course all of the good things he did for you he did it to gain your trust but he would be a liar if he said that he hadn’t fallen for you too.

Caleb's lilac eyes looked through a crack in the open door, waiting to see what you’d do. Just the hesitation alone made his heart skip several beats. However, one thing was certain. Even if you did betray him then that’d be fine because either way you’re always going to be by his side and he'd make sure of that.

A smile has been etched on his face for the longest time ever since he’s met you. From out of intrigue to tolerance to obsession love. So when he saw you crumple the paper and shove it in your pocket this was the first time he stopped smiling. He didn’t know how to process these emotions. He had never loved someone romantically before and now he felt like he could run around the entirety of his kingdom.

As the door creaks open and your eyes meet his, he swears his breath catches in his throat. Gods, how do you always look so effortlessly beautiful? Caleb needs to add to his to-do list to have scientists study you.

“Wha’cha up to?” he asks, stepping closer, your scent flooding his senses and scrambling his thoughts. His lips curl into a smile, his eyes gleaming with that look of love you knew all too well. He should probably check if your perfume contains some kind of drug—because to him, you’re an addiction he can never get enough of.

“I found this poor injured bird. Was just about to help nurse it back to health.” Caleb swore he could get lost in those eyes of yours that told stories your words didn’t. Then he notices the messenger bird in your hands. Its leg, now broken, twitches as it struggles weakly. His chest tightens. Did you just break its leg the moment he stepped in? Had you really reacted that fast to cover your tracks?

That was hot.

“Poor little guy. I know he’ll get better, especially with you looking after him.” He flashes you a wink and you give him a small smile. You offer him a small smile in return, your mind still racing. It had been a split-second decision—one you had to make to keep yourself from being discovered. Lowering your gaze to the pigeon in your hands, you gently stroke its head. It coos in protest, a small, irritated sound, but you keep your touch light, masking the tension thrumming beneath your skin.

“Did you need something-”

Caleb was already standing in front of you, his expression strangely unnatural—one you couldn't recall ever seeing before, yet it felt eerily familiar. He leaned in, his breath ghosting against your ear as he whispered words that sent a shiver down your spine and turned your blood to ice.

“Go on, send a message. Try to run. Try anything you want. It won’t change a thing... because you belong here. With me. Always.”

And that’s when you realized—this wasn’t new. That dangerous look had always been there, hidden behind every soft smile, every lingering touch.

Prince!Caleb, who gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead and leaves the room like nothing had happened. The prince goes on with his day as you spend most of the time acting like everything was fine when you felt like breaking down. By the time you meet for supper you’re not sure what to do or say.

Prince!Caleb, who eats his supper as usual, his eyes stealing glances at you as you continuously lock eyes with him. You open your mouth to speak, to ask what the heck is going on and what he was going to do with you. Torture? But he interrupts you, urging you to eat. The two of you don’t talk until just before bed when you try to ask again but he shuts you up with a kiss.

Prince!Caleb, who continues to treat you like the same, however this time it feels like he’s clingier than usual, quickly finishing his duties and coming over to you. After multiple failed attempts of talking about what had happened that day the perfect opportunity finally presented itself as you asked him about what was going to happen to you on a random morning.

Prince!Caleb, who yawns before bursting out into laughter. The sound bounces off the walls and before you would’ve laughed too but now your guard is at its highest. The prince kisses your hand before saying not to worry about a thing and that he loves you before getting up and getting ready for the day.

Prince!Caleb, who you’ve learned to live with like this. He never brings it up again, never speaks of what you both know to be true. But you’re certain of one thing: he’s pulling strings to keep you alive. If they truly believed you had betrayed them, they would have sent spies to kill you by now. And they had—many times. But the only real danger you’d ever faced was the glint of Caleb's blade, cutting them down before they could even dare to look at that stunning face of yours.

Prince!Caleb, who swore that he would kill as many people as he had to, as long as that meant you were safe. Your hands were already stained with enough blood—so he would bear the burden for you. But then, one night, the blade meant for him finds its mark. He bleeds, and for the first time, you’re the one cutting down his enemy, the one keeping him alive.

Prince!Caleb, who has fought by your side ever since that day—though it took countless arguments and stubborn persuasion. His lilac eyes always find yours on the battlefield, a silent promise woven into every glance. And if you so much as stub your toe, he’ll have soldiers drag you back to safety if they must. Because to him, no victory, no kingdom, no war will ever matter more than you.

A/N: Ya'll do not know how sorry I am. ITS BEEN 4 NEARLY 5 DAYS UGH. I love all of you so much and thank you for 196 followers oh my god. I swear it was only 160 something when I started this special. This Caleb writing had been so fun to write and I think I went a tad bit crazy. Thank you all again so much :,)) <333

Dividers by @mikeykuns

#enyaliuswrites #enyalius 100 followers special #love and deepspace #lads x reader #love and deepspace x you #lads fluff #lads x you #l&ds #caleb fluff #caleb x reader #caleb x you #xia yizhou x reader #xia yizhou

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jungkoode · 4 months ago

Text

OFF-LABELS | O8

→ PAIRING : Med Student!Hoseok x F!Reader (Brother’s Best Friend AU)

→ RATING: Mature, 18+, suggestive tones.

→ DATE POSTED: March 3rd, 2025.

→ SUMMARY: You’ve spent four years convincing yourself that your brother’s best friend is just being nice when he remembers your coffee order, quizzes you on neuroanatomy, or lets his touch linger a second too long. Because there’s no way that the golden boy of Seoul National’s medical program might actually be flirting with you. Especially when he keeps saying things that could be perfectly innocent… if only he didn’t say them in that voice.

→ TAGS: second person perspective, female reader, medical school au, brother’s best friend trope, age gap (4 years), pining, touch starved, overthinking reader, confident hoseok, gentle dom hoseok, medical terminology as flirting (lmao), study sessions, domestic moments, innocent (but not really), plausible deniability king hoseok, anxiety, internal monologue, guilty crushes, subtle teasing, emotional edging, gentle manipulation, praise kink undertones, intellectual attraction, competency kink, hand fixation, voice kink, medical intern hoseok, first year med student reader, home setting, casual intimacy, unresolved sexual tension (for now), secret attraction, nervous rambling, self-doubt, intrusive thoughts, anatomy lessons with ulterior motives, competent hoseok, flustered reader, close proximity, accidental touches that aren’t accidents, virgin!reader.

→ CONTENT in this chapter: Failed attempts at normal Friday nights, tequila-fueled bad decisions, drunk texting that definitely crosses lines, deliberately provoking reactions, pink sets making reappearances, and countdown timers that feel like threats (or promises). | drunk texting, emotional provocation, jealousy, possessive behavior, failed rebounds, tequila courage, late night messages, countdown tension, deliberate misbehavior, text conversations, bar settings, alcohol consumption, purposeful disobedience, revenge flirting, provoked responses.

→ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQ | WORDCOUNT: 3,6k

→ MINI SERIES: PREVIOUS | NEXT

→ A/N: Sometimes it takes tequila and spite to say what you really mean. This chapter is dedicated to everyone who's ever sent that one text they absolutely shouldn't have (but definitely meant). Also to anyone who's ever tried to move on and realized they're ruined for normal flirting. Special thanks to my friends who had to watch me spiral while writing this - your emotional support and drink recommendations were crucial to this mess.

PLAYLIST

The screen blurs as you stare at his contact—a blank gray circle where his photo used to be. The one of him and Caleb at graduation, both grinning, arms slung around each other's shoulders.

Gone.

Your thumb hovers over the message thread. The last thing he sent stares back at you, clinical and cold:

Hoseok: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢.

Three words.

That's all it took to unravel everything—all the heated glances, the lingering touches, the way he'd made you feel seen and wanted and his.

(Stupid. You were so stupid.)

The phone hits the wall with a satisfying crack. You don't check if the screen's broken. Don't care. Let it shatter like everything else.

Because that's what this is, isn't it? He'd played you perfectly—drawing you in with gentle words and meaningless touches, making you question your own sanity until you were desperate for confirmation. Until you were willing to do anything just to prove you weren't imagining it all.

And now?

Now he's gone.

Like it meant nothing. Like you meant nothing. Just another conquest, another game won, another—

A soft knock interrupts your spiral.

"Y/N?" Caleb's voice filters through the door, concerned but not pushing. "You okay?"

You swallow hard, swiping at your eyes. "Fine."

The door creaks open anyway.

Your brother takes one look at you—curled up in your desk chair, eyes red-rimmed, phone face-down on the floor—and something in his expression shifts.

He doesn't ask. Doesn't pry. Just disappears briefly and returns with two mugs of chamomile tea, the kind mom always makes when either of you is upset.

"Scoot." He nudges you over, settling on the floor beside your chair. "Found that terrible rom-com you like. The one with the talking cats."

A wet laugh escapes before you can stop it. "It's not terrible."

"It's horrific." But he's already pulling up Netflix on his phone, patting the space next to him until you slide down to join him.

The tea is too hot and slightly too sweet—he always adds an extra spoonful of honey—but it warms something frozen in your chest. You lean against his shoulder as the movie starts, breathing in the familiar scent of mom’s laundry detergent and that stupid cologne your aunt always gifts him for Christmas.

He doesn't mention how your shoulders shake slightly. Doesn't comment on the damp spot growing on his sleeve. Just wraps an arm around you and lets you hide your face when the tears come faster.

It's going to be okay.

(It has to be okay.)

Your phone buzzes weakly from its place on the floor. You don't check it.

Some things are better left broken.

You stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to convince yourself this is a good idea.

Kiara had been insistent—persistent—about dragging you out tonight. "You need this," she'd declared, rifling through your closet with terrifying efficiency. "Fresh air. Good music. Hot strangers who aren't emotionally constipated medical residents."

(You hadn't told her about Hoseok. Hadn't told anyone. But somehow she knew—the way best friends always do.)

The dress she picked is shorter than you'd usually wear, black fabric clinging to curves you normally hide under oversized sweaters. Your legs look longer in the heels she forced on you, and the smokey eye makeup makes you look... different. Older.

Less like the nervous med student who stammers through anatomy presentations.

Less like his Chip.

Your throat tightens. You reach for your phone automatically—to check if he's unblocked you, to see if he's noticed your absence, to—

"Don't you dare." Kiara appears in the doorway, looking unfairly gorgeous in a red dress. She snatches your phone, dropping it into her clutch. "No drunk texting allowed."

"I wasn't going to—"

"Sure." She starts fixing your lipstick. "And I'm not planning to get absolutely destroyed on tequila shots."

You manage a weak laugh. "You're buying."

"Obviously." She steps back, examining her work with critical eyes. "There. Now you look properly devastating." Her grin turns wicked. "Let's go make some bad decisions."

And that’s how you somehow end up in one of those trendy pubs near campus.

Which is, by the way, absolutely packed when you arrive—music thrumming through the floorboards and lighting making everyone look airbrushed.

The bass line manages to drown out the voice in your head that sounds suspiciously like him.

Kiara orders shots immediately. The tequila burns going down, but it's better than the ache that's been living in your sternum for days.

"To terrible men," she declares, raising another glass.

"To terrible decisions," you counter, and the lime tastes like freedom when you bite down.

And three shots later, the edges of everything finally start to blur pleasantly.

The music feels like it's flowing through your veins, making your hips sway without conscious thought. Kiara drags you to the dance floor, her laugh bright and infectious as she spins you around.

"See?" She has to shout over the bass. "This is what Friday nights are supposed to feel like!"

And maybe she's right. Maybe this is better than sitting in your room, staring at your phone, waiting for a message that's never going to come. Maybe this—the plethora of bodies moving around you, the asphyxiating burn of tequila, the way your dress slides against your skin when you dance—is exactly what you need.

You close your eyes, letting the music take over. Let yourself forget about gentle voices and surgical hands and the way he'd looked at you like you were something precious right before he—

No.

Not tonight.

Tonight is for dancing and drinking and pretending your heart isn't still beating in morse code: Ho-seok, Ho-seok, Ho-seok.

(But god, even the bass line sounds like his laugh.)

The tequila makes your phone screen swim as you glare at his contactless profile. The gray circle mocks you—empty and cold like his stupid perfect soul.

"Look at you," you slur at the blank icon. "Not even a picture anymore. Too good for pictures now? Too busy being tall and successful and making people question their sanity?"

Kiara—who apparently managed to grab a mojito at some point—now snorts into her glass. "Honey..."

"And your hands." You jab accusingly at the screen. "Why are they so big? Who gave you permission? Stupid... stupid surgeon hands with their stupid... precision."

"Okay, that's enough." Kiara tries to grab your phone, but you clutch it to your chest.

"No wait, I'm not done insulting his perfect face. Which isn't even here anymore because he's too important for profile pictures apparently." You hiccup. "Probably busy being gentle and professional somewhere else. With his stupid rolled-up sleeves and his stupid honey voice and his stupid—"

"Perfect bone structure?" Kiara supplies helpfully.

"Yes!" You slump against the bar. "It's offensive. His whole... everything is offensive. Criminal, even. We should report him to the medical board for being unreasonably attractive while also being a complete—"

"Asshole?"

"I was gonna say bastard but yes." You squint at the screen again. "Look at him. Not looking at us. With his not-picture. Rude."

Kiara pats your head sympathetically. "Come on, disaster. Let's find you someone who actually shows up in photos."

As if summoned by her words, two guys materialize beside your table. The taller one—dark hair, nice smile, definitely not wearing a white coat or speaking in medical terminology—leans against the bar.

"Can we buy you ladies a drink?"

You open your mouth to decline, but Kiara kicks you under the table.

"We'd love that," she says smoothly. "I'm Kiara, this is Y/N."

"James," the tall one offers. "This is Mike."

Mike waves, sliding onto the stool next to you. He's cute, in a slightly tired way—the kind that comes from hospital rotations and too little sleep.

"Med student?" he asks, noticing your distracted glance at your phone.

"How'd you guess?" you ask.

"The thousand-yard stare," he laughs. "I'm doing my internship at SNU. Just started the emergency rotation last week."

You manage a small smile. Med student, intern—at least he's not a certain first-year resident with surgical hands and a talent for making you question your sanity.

"So," Mike asks, "what brings you here tonight?"

"Emotional devastation," you announce before Kiara can stop you. "Also tequila."

He laughs—a normal laugh, not a honey-dripped chuckle designed to make your knees weak. "Sounds like there's a story there."

"Oh, there's a story." You straighten up, warming to your topic. "See, there's this guy—"

Kiara slaps her hand over your mouth. "Who we are not talking about tonight!" She smiles brilliantly at James and Mike. "How about those drinks?"

You lick her palm until she releases you with a yelp.

"Fine," you concede, accepting the fresh margarita Mike slides your way. "No talking about He Who Must Not Be Named."

"Voldemort?" James jokes.

You snort into your drink. "Worse. He's a doctor."

Mike winces sympathetically. "Ah. One of those."

"Exactly!" You point at him triumphantly. "One of those. With their... their competence and their steady hands and their stupid ability to make everything sound like a medical procedure—"

Kiara kicks you again. "Drinks," she reminds you firmly. "We're drinking and dancing and not thinking about certain medical professionals who shall remain nameless."

"Right." You take a long sip of margarita. "No thinking about names. Or nicknames. Or the way certain people say certain nicknames like they're tasting them—"

"Dance floor!" Kiara announces loudly, grabbing your arm. "We're going to the dance floor now!"

As she drags you away, you hear Mike ask James: "Should we be concerned?"

"Probably," James replies, but he's following anyway.

You let Kiara pull you into the crowd, the bass drowning out your thoughts. It's fine. You're fine.

And if you check your phone one more time—just to glare at the blank profile picture and maybe compose a strongly worded text about the audacity of certain medical residents—well.

That's between you and the tequila.

Definitely not between your bones and Mike as hemoves closer, hand settling tentatively on your waist.

You know he’s being polite about it—know he’s asking permission with his eyes, keeping a respectful distance.

It's nice.

Normal.

Boring.

(No. Not boring. Safe. This is what normal flirting feels like. Not... whatever psychological warfare Hoseok had been waging.)

"You're a good dancer," Mike says, and his voice is perfectly pleasant. No syrupy-thick manipulation. No clinical observations about your hip mobility.

"Thanks." You manage a smile that only feels slightly forced. "You too."

He grins—an uncomplicated expression that doesn't hide any surgical precision behind it. "Want to get some air? Maybe..." He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Take a smoke break?"

You don't smoke. Have never smoked. Would normally launch into a lecture about pulmonary health risks and carcinogenic compounds because you're that kind of med student.

But.

But tonight you're wearing a dress that makes you feel dangerous, and your lips still taste like tequila, and somewhere across the city he's probably being perfect and untouchable and—

"Yes." The word tumbles out before you can stop it. "Air sounds good."

Kiara catches your eye across the dance floor, raising an eyebrow in silent question. You wave her off, letting Mike guide you through the crowd toward the exit.

The night air hits your bare shoulders like a slap, sobering and sharp. Mike leans against the brick wall, offering you the pack with another easy smile.

You take a cigarette because you're drunk and stupid and maybe trying to prove something to yourself. Or to him.

(Everything feels like it's about him lately.)

"Here." Mike cups his hands around the flame, shielding it from the breeze as you lean in.

The first inhale burns—acrid and harsh and nothing like the way his mouth had burned against yours. You manage not to cough, but it's a near thing.

"Not a regular smoker?" Mike asks, amused.

You shake your head, watching the ember glow in the darkness. "First time, actually."

His eyebrows lift. "Shit, really? Should've told me. We could've started you with something lighter."

The concern in his voice makes something in your chest twist. Because it's nice. He's being nice. And you're standing here thinking about someone else's mouth and someone else's hands and—

"Sorry," you blurt out. "I'm kind of a mess right now."

Mike's laugh is gentle. "Yeah, I got that impression." He takes a drag, smoke curling between you. "Want to talk about it?"

"God no." You attempt another inhale, managing not to choke this time. "I want to forget about it."

His eyes flick to your mouth, then back to yours. "I could help with that."

The invitation is clear. Simple. Uncomplicated.

You could do it. Could let this nice, normal boy kiss you against the brick wall. Could replace the memory of bergamot with something softer. Safer.

Could prove that you're not still thinking about gentle poison and cloying praise and the way his fingers had—

"I can't." The words taste like ash. "I'm sorry, I just—"

"Hey." Mike straightens, hands lifting in surrender. "No pressure. We can just talk. Or not talk." He grins. "Or you can keep pretending to enjoy that cigarette while plotting revenge against whatever doctor broke your heart."

A laugh bubbles up—slightly hysterical but real. "That obvious?"

"Little bit." He takes the cigarette from your trembling fingers, stubbing it out. "Come on. Let's get you some water before your friend murders me for letting you smoke."

You let him lead you back inside, grateful for the simple kindness of it. For the way he doesn't push or pry or try to take advantage of your obvious vulnerability.

It's nice.

Normal.

Right.

(So why does it feel so wrong?)

Your phone buzzes in your clutch.

You ignore it.

Some habits are harder to break than others.

The rest of the night blurs into a mess of well-meaning moments that all feel slightly wrong. Mike gets you water, makes sure you're steady on your feet, laughs at your increasingly unfiltered commentary about medical school.

He's perfect.

And that's the problem.

Because your drunk brain keeps cataloging all the ways he's not perfect enough. His hands are normal-sized. His smile doesn't hide anything. When he touches your elbow to steady you, it's just... a touch. No clinical observations about proprioception or balance compensation.

"You doing okay?" he asks for the third time, and his concern is so genuine it makes your teeth hurt.

"I'm fine," you lie, but what you mean is: you're not him.

You're not fine. You're drunk and touch-starved and maybe a little broken, because apparently regular flirting feels empty now. Like eating sugar-free candy when you know exactly how the real thing tastes.

"Want to dance again?" Mike offers, and you almost say yes because that's what you're supposed to want.

Normal girl, normal boy, normal Friday night.

But.

But your skin feels too tight and your head is spinning and all you can think about is how he would handle this—how he'd steady you with those surgeon's hands and murmur something about vestibular dysfunction while his thumb pressed against your pulse.

"I need air," you announce, pushing away from the bar.

Your heel catches on nothing, sending you stumbling.

Mike reaches for you, but you're already righting yourself, muscle memory kicking in as you adjust your center of gravity.

"Excellent compensatory response," you mutter in his voice, then laugh because you're definitely losing it.

"What?"

"Nothing." You wave off Mike's concerned look. "Just... medical student things."

"I get it," he says with a knowing smile. "The terminology gets stuck in your head after a while. My attending at SNU is always going on about proprioception and vestibular function."

Your stomach drops at the mention of SNU. "Which department?"

"Emergency, but we rotate through different services. This week I've been with the surgical team." He shrugs. "It's intense, but the residents are mostly cool."

You nod, wondering if he's ever supervised Mike, if they've worked side by side while you were sitting at home staring at your phone.

He smiles like he understands, but he doesn't. Can't. Because he's never had someone turn basic anatomy into psychological warfare. Never had someone make him question his own sanity with plausible deniability and careful touches and—

"Text me?" Mike's voice cuts through your spiral.

Your eyes flicker down to his hand. He's holding out his phone, expression hopeful.

You stare at it. At his normal, nice, completely uncomplicated contact page with its normal, nice, completely visible profile picture.

"I can't," you say finally, and you mean: I'm ruined for normal now.

His smile is understanding. Kind. "The doctor?"

"The doctor," you confirm, and you hate how your voice catches on the word.

Kiara immediately appears at your elbow—your guardian angel in four-inch heels. "Let’s get some air." She waves to Mike. "Thanks for keeping an eye on her."

"Anytime." He means it too, which makes it worse somehow.

You both make it outside. The night air feels like clarity. Kiara tucks you against her shoulder as you let out a soft sigh.

"He’s nice," she says finally.

"Yeah." You close your eyes, remembering gentle smiles and normal hands and complete lack of medical terminology. "Too nice."

"Oh honey." She strokes your hair. "You're so fucked."

You laugh until you cry, because she has no idea how right she is. How thoroughly, completely, deliberately fucked you've been by someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

Your phone buzzes.

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢. 𝙳𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛.

Your heart stops.

“Y/N.” Kiara mutters, glancing down at your screen.

“Give me a second.” You reply, voice slightly slurred.

Because you know that clinical concern. Know that detached tone that sounds like medical advice but feels like ownership.

Your fingers slip on the keyboard as you type:

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜??? 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚘𝚎𝚔 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕 # 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝙲𝙾𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙳

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚖𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚢?? 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚂𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚃

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝙶𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙, 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚙.

The nickname makes you see red. You practically stab the screen with your thumbs:

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝙳𝙾𝙽𝚃. 𝙲𝙷𝙸𝙿. 𝙼𝙴. 𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚞 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺𝙳 𝙼𝙴

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝚛 𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚝????? 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑????? 𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 “𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢” 𝚑𝚞𝚑?????

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝙾 𝚞𝚛 𝚊 𝙲𝙾𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙳. 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝙾𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙳

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚔.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝙽𝙾 𝚂𝙷𝙸𝚃 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙲𝙾𝙲𝙺.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚛𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝙼𝚛 𝙱𝚒𝚐 𝙱𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚂𝚞𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝙼𝚊𝚗

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕?????? 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚍

Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again. Your heart hammers against your ribs as you wait.

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞?

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗𝚝 𝚄 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝚈/𝙽.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚘𝚑 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚎. 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚢. 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚞 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚍𝚘??? 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺 𝙼𝙴 𝙰𝙶𝙰𝙸𝙽???

The dots return, lingering longer this time.

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝙽𝙾. 𝚞𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚍. 𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒 𝙷𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝚄

𝐘𝐨𝐮: …𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚝𝚠. 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚕 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝙾𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶.

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝚆𝚑𝚘’𝚜 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎?

You grin viciously at the sharp edge in those two words.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚍𝚗𝚝 𝚄 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚠𝚘

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝙻𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝙽𝚘𝚠.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚝????? 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚣 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜????? 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎?????

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚙.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝙽𝙾𝙿𝙴. 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛????? 𝚒𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚢/𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚛 𝚢/𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚛 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚕𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺 𝙷𝙴𝚁

You jab at the send button, chest rising too fast, too unsteady, because fuck him.

Fuck him for watching you from a distance. Fuck him for pretending he wasn’t. Fuck him for texting you when he’s the one who left—for acting like he still has a say in what you do, who you see, how much you drink.

Fuck him for making you like this.

Your fingers curl tighter around your phone, the alcohol thick in your bloodstream, pulse scalding under your skin.

You squeeze your eyes shut, but all you can see is him. That fucking look on his face, like you’d somehow made him the victim.

Like he was the one suffering.

You shove your phone back into your bag, stomach twisting, vision tilting—

And then you pull it right back out.

Because you can’t escape inevitability, even as much as you wish you could.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚞 𝚒𝚖 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚛𝚗

The dots appear instantly, then vanish. Your heart pounds as you push further:

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚞 𝚒 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚙.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚞 𝚒 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚍

A long pause. Then:

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝙿𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝.

Your lips curve, knowing you’ve got him. Even through the alcohol haze, you can feel the shift in his tone—the way the period instead of a question mark betrays his tension. Curiosity. Intrigue.

Attraction.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚞 𝚝𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝚊𝚋𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚡

Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again. You press on:

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚘. 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑.

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝚈/𝙽.

Full name. You’re getting to him.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚞 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚝??? 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚠???

The response is immediate:

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚝.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝???? 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚖𝚎??? 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗????

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝙻𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗??? 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚎𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚘𝚗????

Another pause. Then:

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝚃𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚑𝚢??? 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗???

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝙵𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

Your thighs clench at the curse. Because this—this is what you wanted. What you want. Him cursing. Him losing it, like you’ve lost it—medical terminology abandoned.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚎 𝚍𝚛 𝚓𝚞𝚗𝚐. 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚊𝚕

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝙶𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚡𝚒. 𝙽𝚘𝚠.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔

The response is lightning fast:

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝙸𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚙𝚊𝚕.

The threat has your knees wobbling.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜???

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝

Three dots appear. Linger. Disappear. Your phone buzzes with a location pin instead.

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝟸𝟶 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜. 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

You stare at the address, feeling slightly bold. Slightly reckless. Because that’s his apartment. Where he’d almost—where you’d nearly—

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝙸 𝚊𝚖.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚙.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚢𝚎𝚜?

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝟷𝟿 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚒 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎

His reply makes you, indeed, not want to behave at all.

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛. 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚕𝚢. 𝚁𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢. 𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎????

Three dots appear one last time:

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫: 𝟷𝟾 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜, 𝙲𝚑𝚒𝚙. 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘𝚌𝚔.

You send him a middle finger emoji and watch the dots appear, disappear, appear again.

Let him stew.

You’ve got 17 minutes to decide just how badly you want to misbehave.

(Very badly, as it turns out.)

→ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @somehowukook @just-reading-dany @sanarin @billy-jeans23 @stuti2904 @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap @hobis-sprite0218

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possesseddesiress · 2 months ago

Text

Switch Up: Conclusions

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Switch Up: Conclusions (English Version)

Part One: First Level

Part Two: Logan's Revenge

Part Three: Ethan's Relief

Part Four: Miles' Ambition

Part Five: Conclusions

Life had been perfect since Miles showed us the control and we ended up in these bodies.

We had become the kings of the school, it was no longer necessary to hide from bullies, or go unnoticed in the halls, no. Now at every step we took, at least one person would turn to look at us as if their life depended on it.

It was like having power in its purest expression. Attractive, muscular, who wouldn't want to have all that?

Some things had changed, maybe people noticed it or preferred to ignore it and take it as normal. The way Blake now dressed, the new interests in Caleb, the more noticeable flirtations of the new Ruben.

Or even Alan and Blake's relationship. Who now couldn't seem to keep their hands off each other for too long.

Everything was as it should be. Us in the lead, no longer being shadows.

There were strange and difficult parts to get used to, of course. Miles' control did not yet have the ability to endow the host with the memories and recollections of the shell body.

So getting used to a new house, hobbies and even a new social circle was a challenge. Not impossible, but something that cost at least the first few weeks.

Although, the base abilities of the bodies did seem to remain, as a kind of autopilot. I discovered in a short time that I quite liked theater, I didn't know if it was because of Ruben's "base style", but there was a strange satisfaction in standing on a stage with hundreds of people in front of me and having them eating out of the palm of my hand.

I must admit that I've become a bit self-centered (and although I don't like to say it in front of the new Caleb and Blake, that worries me). I know I'm not Ethan anymore, that's way behind me now, but what if my original personality is lost?

I wanted to take the place of a popular guy, but not become him body and soul. Much less a hyper-projected version of him.

- Did you call us? - I asked, just coming out of a theater rehearsal. As long as I had been inside this body, I still couldn't get used to it. I kept looking at my strong biceps out of the corner of my eye, or bouncing my pecs for mere play.

- Yeah, I've been thinking something lately - Blake nodded to himself, looking at me and Caleb in the other corner of the room.

- And what is it?

- Well, since this - he pulled the controller out of his pocket - I've noticed that we don't usually hang out together anymore, we used to go everywhere, now you're with the theater, you're with your prankster friends or those cosplay things.

- What about you? - Caleb spoke - You just hang out with your new boyfriend, your training or your experiments.

There was silence, Blake denied.

- That's not the point. I mean the three of us have neglected each other, we used to be close, now it seems we don't even have time to answer messages.

He understood what Miles was saying but in a way, he was also agreeing with Logan.

- You haven't made time for us either - I muttered, looking down.

Silence settled between us for a while, until Caleb dared to break it.

- I love you guys. But maybe it's also part of... this - he pointed at his body and then at us.

- Stop being friends? - I asked in a low tone.

- Maybe... Maybe.

He also lowered his gaze.

- I can't believe they're really saying that - Blake looked at us with some suspicion - To stop being friends just because... we changed bodies?

- We're not the same people anymore.

- We are on the inside, Logan!

- ... He didn't call me Logan anymore.

- But you know you fucking were!

Miles' breathing became ragged and ragged for a moment, he became thoughtful.

- And what do you propose? - I looked at him.

He didn't say or do anything for a while, it was extremely awkward until he started moving towards Caleb, serious, they stood face to face, I thought they were about to punch each other until Blake moved in to kiss him.

Caleb tried to push him away but ended up giving in, it was an intense series of kisses, the stinkier one took some authority as he squeezed the hairs on the back of the other's neck, pulling him tight to him.

There was a lot of tongue and saliva in between, they were loud in strange, little by little the atmosphere began to heat up more, Caleb grabbed Blake's waist to corner him against the wall, their backs collided with a thud, which made him let out a gasp but they still continued kissing.

It went on for a while until they seemed to remember I was there too.

- Are you going to stand there alone? - Miles asked, looking at me with a mixture of lust and impatience. Seeing no response, he looked up at Logan and motioned to him.

The other one broke away and advanced towards me. It wasn't even a second before he had his tongue inside me, his hands roaming and clinging to my skin.

- Ah... I-I don't understand w-why this will make us b-b-become united again

I stammered as best I could as Logan seemed to have turned into a beast thirsty for desire kissing my neck. I didn't know if it was him or traces of his new body, but jeez... He sure was territorial, aggressive and primal.

- We wanted to do this together, didn't we? - Miles said, caressing his chest and abs carelessly - We wanted to be sporty to be hot, popular, all together. But when did we give ourselves time to taste what we had now?

I couldn't think of anything. On the one hand, it seemed crazy and completely ridiculous what Miles was saying. What did this have to do with the fact that we were kissing now?

I wanted to think of it as some sort of couples therapy strategy, but we were friends. What was this?

Before I could say more, Miles came up behind me and started caressing Logan's body, which made him let out slight grunts.

- And that's your whole... your whole plan? - I mumbled heavily, focusing on Miles having control in his hands - Is it necessary for you to always bring... that with you?

He smiled.

- No, but I feel more comfortable this way... I don't quite know my new family, imagine leaving the control around and everyone starts switching bodies left and right - he explained with that nerdy aura that still seeped through from time to time, I couldn't explain why, but that made me smile - Plus now we can do this.

He pressed and pointed, and suddenly, I was no longer looking at him, I was staring at the wall, with my lips against a neck, settled between someone's legs... Now I was in Caleb's body.

- Uh... Why did you do that? - my old voice asked.

- They say the best way to understand another person is to put yourself in their shoes, right? Well surprise, we can do that.

Before I could even respond, I found myself in someone else's body again, control in my hands. Caleb broke away, looking down at his huge hands.

- Why him? He's a brainless gorilla - he mumbled stroking and sniffing himself, to which he made a strange gesture - Shit, what's that smell?

And it was like he lost his mind, suddenly glued to his armpit with need, inhaling hard and rubbing his armpit to fill his nose with sweat over and over again.

- Because I wanted to get back at him - It was strange to see Ruben talking without me in charge - Besides... He's sexy, a brainless himbo, it's easier to socialize with some people, I don't have to worry about being... interesting. I can say anything stupid and people will laugh, though... The smell is still a problem.

He grimaced, but Miles was still lost in this new experience.

- Scent? What the hell are you talking about? If it smells delicious...

- That's because Caleb has hyperosmia, that's why he always wanted to smell this strong. He liked his own stench

The new Caleb kept sniffing himself. Until all of a sudden he was back against Ruben's neck, sniffing and kissing him.

- Shit, you smell good.

Ruben gasped but his legs clung against Caleb's waist, starting to rub against him.

It was chaos between kisses, Caleb sniffing Ruben's skin, the Latino panting and clinging to the boy's armpit. I couldn't hold back and tightened my grip, ending up with Caleb on top of me.

- No fair! - Blake's body cried out.

- S-sorry f-friend.

I stammered with a smile.

Blake came over and pressed himself against Caleb, starting to caress his body, rubbing and kissing him.

In less time than we thought, there were no clothes left, we were panting in unison, awkward kisses and eager hands everywhere. Logan on Blake's body, me on Ruben's, Miles on Caleb's. Though the order didn't matter much since every so often. Someone would take over to end up in another body.

- Woah! Why did you decide on a Latino? - Miles asked caressing his chest and face.

- Because he's hot, I liked him from the first moment I saw him - I whispered distributing kisses on his thighs - He's interesting, handsome, and has something unique about him over the others.

- Lots of romantic shit - Logan said caressing Ruben's chest from behind - Why did you choose Blake?

Miles let out a laugh.

- Do I need to explain?

- Nah... - they both kissed madly.

- Won't your boyfriend be mad about this? - I asked.

- I'm just re-bonding with my best friends. What's the big deal?

A short time later, Ruben's body was in the middle of me in Caleb's, Logan in front with Blake's. I was shoving the rod from my new body straight into Miles' new one. Which made him gasp.

- Ah, it's big! - he complained.

- Another thing I picked him for - Logan smiled back Logan before they kissed.

I was lost in the feeling I didn't realize when Miles took control to switch us back and forth, back into our original bodies.

- Shit, let me know you'll do that, mfh! - I couldn't help but gasp, my eyes rolled to white for a while. I felt Caleb fill everything with me, Blake settled with a smile in front of me to take my face in his hands, caressing my cheeks.

- Do you remember what you did with me when I was inside Alan?

I swallowed nervously.

— D-dude, I-I don't know what you're talking about. — Nah, don’t be a coward, Ethan - He grabbed one of my pecs and squeezed it, making me let out a little yelp - Say it. — Ah, shit! I used you! — Great. And don’t you think you should pay for that?

A glint flashed in his eyes. He signaled to Logan, who began thrusting harder. My eyes rolled back from the sheer pleasure, and I panted like crazy. A bit of drool escaped my lips as Logan slammed his hips into me with even more force. Miles grabbed my chin, firm and confident.

— You love how he feels inside you, don’t you? — I love having him inside me... - I murmured, breathless.

He grabbed my neck a little tightly, squeezing it.

— And does it feel good? — It feels so good - I moaned in pleasure.

Miles smiled again, cocky as ever, then guided my hand to his length. With his other hand, he pulled me in and kissed me with need and hunger.

Everything turned into a sticky, sweaty, slightly smelly mess after that. I don’t even want to imagine what the janitor walked into. Or the class that came in after us.

Strangely enough, Miles had been right. It felt like reconnecting with the real bond the three of us once had, like it always used to be. It was nice having my best friends back. I knew it would be weird—again—for others to see Caleb, Ruben, and Blake hanging out like old buddies, considering none of them even spoke to each other before the swap.

But what mattered was having my friends by my side again. — Wanna do something Friday? - I typed into the group chat. — Yes! There's a new superhero movie coming out. Can we go see it? - Logan replied. — Don’t you ever get tired of being such a nerd? - I joked. Logan just sent a photo.

— A nerd who had your legs shaking.

I smiled, though weirdly... Miles had been quiet for a while. — SHIT! - he suddenly typed in the chat. — What’s wrong? Everything okay? — FUCK, NO! I CAN’T FIND THE REMOTE! — What?! — We must’ve left it in the classroom! That was the last place we used it! — Dude, what the hell?! — I don’t know, I completely forgot! — Can’t you make another one? — Of course I can! That was just the beta model! But now it’s lost, who knows where it is!

We tried to find the remote after that—even snuck into the school at night. But nothing. No trace of it.

Miles eventually figured out how to install a kind of ‘lock’ on our new bodies to prevent interference from the original remote. So yeah, everything worked out for us again. But... What about the remote?

----

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages.

This was the fifth and final part of "Switch Up". I really hope you enjoyed it—writing it has been an absolute blast for me. It’s the biggest project I’ve done within this community and genre so far. For now, Ethan, Miles, and Logan’s story has come to an end… but having the remote control has opened the door to brand new stories.

So, I’ve decided to launch a spin-off called: The Switch Club. A collection of short stories—some standalone, some interconnected—to expand the high school body swap fantasy even further. I hope you’ll enjoy everything I have planned for you!

See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

---

#body swap #body switch #malebodyswap #bodyswapping #mental change #nerd to hunk #twinktohunk #switchup

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strwberri-milk · 4 months ago

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Hello! I hope you’re having a great day!

Could I request LADS men with a reader who isn’t exactly ‘accepting’ of their line of work? I mean, I guess besides Sylus and Caleb, all of them have decent jobs that don’t require doing something ‘unethical’, so writing only those two will do. Maybe because of ideals, morale, and worry, they happen to harbor a hidden dislike towards their work. They don’t express this outright— only small hints, such as a frown when the men tell them they’re off on duty or something, which leads them to piece it together themselves. Of course, they still love them despite their jobs, but are still not so accepting of it.

hmm see i was thinking about this as a request but id like it to be more of a discussion!! so this is. more informal but definitely is discussing this request lolol

i totally get where youre coming from - if you were realistically going to date Sylus and Caleb you'd have to be fully aware of the factt hat what he does isn't really ethical and at times, asks him to make the decision of whether or not someone lives

an idealistic part of me wants to say that they'd quite their jobs for you and move to the country side and streoeptypical otome tropes would probably have them do that - true love prevails after all the these games are usually wish fulfillment so you can do literally anything and everything you want to them.

i feel like sylus would be more likely to either quite or somehow make his job more remote? he'd be okay with not killing people and just teaching them a lesson through other means - whether that be through just roughing them up (which you still probably wouldn't like if this is a problem) or through sabotage and blackmail (because i see both sylus and rafayel being intel KINGS they know anything and everything they want to know!)

if youre considering yourself as MC, then caleb would never leave his job. he doesnt care what you think of him - just that you are safe. its heavily implied/outright said that caleb is the only thing thats keeping you safe from the people who want to hurt you. he'll brush off any comments you make but if it gets to a point where he feels annoyed he might be prone to making a passive aggressive comment but he'll apologise wordlessly by buying you something or by saying things like "you know i'm doing this for you right"

(rafayel would honestly do the same since he does a bunch of underhanded work in private. the difference between him and caleb is he keeps that part of his life VERY far removed from you because i think he looks at you as this pure, perfect being and has a habit of idealising you thanks to both the bond + the way the lemurians love. not to say that he has you on like, some madonna whore complex but more so he worries that he could dirty you and he would hate himself if he ever did)

if you dont think of yourself as MC i feel like calebs whole story kinda falls apart/would requiure me to have knowledge of your own personal mc and how the interaction with caleb works. if youre just like, an average joe living your life he wouldn't be anything more than a pilot perhaps? no need to be involved in experiments but he might not even be alive because perhaps he's only here bc of those experiements maybe its a paradox maybe im just making things up BUT if he doesnt need to protect you from EVER (which i think is what hes protecting you on pleaes give me grace i play enough to get a grasp of his characrter/backstory but its been a hot minute since ive looked at it)

#from the garden #love and deepspace #l&ds #sylus x reader #caleb x reader

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utilitycaster · 5 months ago

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to me i feel like the hells were meant for a campaign more like cr2, which i feel like that's been discussed before even on your blog? like idk orym and braius were the only characters who actually fit this campaign, maybe imogen for obvious reasons. but laudna, fearne, ashton, chetney all felt like they belonged in a lower stakes, more personal campaign

Yes, I have talked about this extensively: honestly, either a Campaign 1 or Campaign 2 structure would have served them better. For what it's worth I feel like everyone other than Laudna managed to make something of it - Fearne and Chetney frankly did a lot of work to explore their concepts, it was just never rewarded or frankly in many cases revisited in any way (again, consequences do not mean punishment; they quite literally just mean that one's actions lead to results that follow from said actions), and while I ended up not caring much for Ashton as a character, I actually think Taliesin played them with a strong logical throughline. But it is true that the plot really, in the end, served none of them, not even Orym or Imogen (Braius it kind of did, but he was developed so late in the game that he was designed around its flaws). There was just never space to really explore the dark fairytale Ashley talked about early on; Tuyen and that other toymaker back in Marquet were never revisited nor was Ruidus's impact on Chetney nor was there an appearance of Doreo, and even Drixlich and the offers to the pirates vanished (side note but Travis is perhaps actual play's best plot thread generator and I think it's telling that he kind of gave up on that eventually because it never fucking went anywhere, after two campaigns where it consistently did). When it comes to Imogen I am reminded of the possibly apocryphal theater review for King Lear that went "the lead actor played the king as though he momentarily expected someone to play the ace;" she was a great concept but at no point inhabited her decisions meaningfully on the rare occasions she made them. Orym was never really given the opportunities Caleb had to explore grief and while I personally am okay with his deal with Morri being canceled, it plus the whole Vax thing really feel like a thumbing of the nose at Liam's RP choices across the decade. Ashton's temporary growth and then regression honestly feel very real, just deeply unsympathetic, though the ending of the story where nothing about the All Minds Burn or his talk with Shady Sally or the titans or the Hishari came up and the genuinely great moment of sacrifice turned into another "and then Essek fixes it for you" was narratively empty. But the more I think about it, the more this was largely a failure of Matt to tell a different kind of story with any measure of success. I think this campaign in many ways played hard to Matt, Marisha, and Laura's weaknesses in particular (and a little bit of Liam's if I'm being honest in the end) whereas the others embraced their strengths, and this is what happened; the rest of the cast kind of made the most of it.

#cr spoilers #answered #anonymous

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rileychester · 13 days ago

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I was watching a video about Aaron and Mack's friendship. And I was thinking Robert needs a friend outside of Aaron, Robert's family, and Aaron's family.

So, no Victoria or any Dingles in this situation. I'm also taking Mack out of the equation because he's connected to Dingles as Charity's husband, and he's Aaron's best friend.

Yes, people can share best friends, but we all know how messy Aaron and Robert get; they need friends to be able to sort things out with. And Mack can not be split down the middle or forced to choose sides.

Which leaves characters like Vanessa, Nicola, Tracy, and Jimmy. They all had interactions with him in the past, and they all need a story boost in the new Robert's return fairy dust.

I also think it should be an already established character that was around when Ryan was first there. So no Steph, Lewis, and as much as it pains me to say no Caleb or Ruby.

Though I think he would make a brilliant friendship pairing with either Caleb or Ruby. But they are connected to Dingles, since Caleb is Faith's son, and they are new characters. I do think that there are longer-standing characters that should get the benefit of Robert being back. We all know that Robert is going to get a lot of scenes when he is back onscreen, he's going to have a big hot girl summer.

I say let's make them all his friends, though I know ED limits that, especially with the budget cuts. I mean, they must have spent most of the budget getting Ryan to come back. So they keep characters very separate from each other. I miss the days when the show felt like an actual village.

So, who is in the running for Robert's bestie?

Nicola:

Now these two are a lot of fun together, and dear god, do they have history. Robert lost his virginity to Nicola when he was a teen and she was an older woman. These two have bickered and schemed together and have shown they work great together. Plus Ryan and Nicola have great onscreen chemistry together. She knows better than anyone what it means to be a morally gray character and what it means to come from rock bottom. The chaos these two could cause in the village together. He also gets on with Jimmy, and he could get two friends for the price of one. Though Nicola already has a long-standing best friend in Laurel. Like I said, ED keeps characters pretty separate.

Jimmy:

I have always loved Jimmy, and I always will. He's just a sweet, stupid, but loving guy who does try. I have also always liked Ryan and Nick's onscreen chemistry, and Jimmy has been a good friend in Robert's corner before. Plus, Jimmy is a King; he knows what it's like to be morally gray, too. What it's like to have everyone turn on you and have to take your lumps and work your way back. Jimmy also knows what it is like to have VERY complex relationships with your siblings, which will come in handy for Robert. He also has several different kids with several different women. Jimmy could be a good dad friend for Robert to hang out with. As well as I don't think Jimmy really has a lot on and could really use some Robert magic for more screen time. Also, Jimmy could really use a friend of his own, I think there is Bob, but I am not sure.

Tracy:

I don't think they ever interacted much, but I think she was always a fan of Robron. Plus, she could really use a friend outside of Vanessa and Eric. Tracy is fun, sweet, kind, and up for almost anything. Robert and she could get up to all sorts in the village. She also knows what it's like to cheat on someone you deeply love and have it destroy your life. But she didn't get her second chance at a happy ending because Nate died. Though I don't think Robert will feel guilty for what John did to Nate. It would be super soapy if Robert stepped up and helped out the woman whose daughter had lost her dad because of his long-lost half-brother. That sounds like something Jack would do. And I hope for Robert to step up as the head of the Sugden family like Jack, Diane, and Andy were. I also think that once Nate's death and John's showdown are wrapped up, I don't think Tracy will have much on and could use some story help.

Vanessa:

I LOVED these two being paired up as friends before Ryan left the show.

With all honesty Vanessa ticks pretty much all the future best friend of Robert Sugden boxes. They were just good fun, and Ryan and Michelle had great onscreen chemistry. And how great to see a out and proud queer friendship.

I know technically Vanessa already has two other besties with Rhona, her longtime best friend, and Tracy, her baby sister. Robert could have fun with her, and he could also have real conversations with her. She also would be a strong person to be in his corner and to have his back. And she was in a serious relationship with Charity Dingle; she understands and accepts complicated people. But like I said, she's Tracy's big sister, and I could see her joining forces with Robert to make John pay.

She has also been a solid person in Robert's niece Sarah's life. And one of the main things I really want in Robert's upcoming storylines is for him to rebuild the Sugdens. Including him being there and having a solid relationship with Sarah.

Also, can you see the soapy complicated drama goodness, if Vanity becomes a couple again, from what I have heard from rumors. If Robert is best friends with Vanessa, who might be paired with Mack's wife, Charity. Mack, who happens to be Aaron's best friend. Causing so much drama and complications because there is a lot of tension and loyalty issues in play.

And from what I have heard Vanessa could desperately use a screen boost since they really didn't delve into the fallout of Suzy's death or what went down with Suzy and Mary from what I have heard.

Matty:

I love Matty Barton, and the show has basically given him crumbs since he returned to the village in 2009. That's freaking 16 years of basically being a background character who gets a storyline if the writers can be bothered. Which is mostly zero percent of the time.

I don't think Robert and Matty really have a friendship or relationship. But dear god, Matty could use some screentime magic by being paired up as Robert's new best mate. Matty is kind, loyal, sweet, and an overall great guy. Plus, he knows what it's like to be in prison and have people turn on you for crap reasons. Matty has also survived and accepted both the Dingle and Barton madness. I think he could handle the chaotic behavior of Robert Jacob Sugden.

Also, I think Ash is a fine actor when given the chance, and I think he could rise to the occasion.

Ross:

Ok, hear me out, yes, they are canon enemies and Ross calls Robert and I quote, "big-headed pompous git." And techinally there is a lot of anger there since you know Ross shot Robert almost killing him and Robert has screwed over Ross over from time to time too. Like dumping Ross's money-making weed into a woodchipper. But Robert was okay-ish with Ross being Seb's stepdad, as far as we know.

Ross, for as far as we know, took good care of Seb, and they both love that little boy. So they could bond over that. As well as having complicated dad issues, over fathers playing favorites, and in some ways, pitting brothers against each other. Both their father are dead, so in some ways they can't get closure. They also have COMPLEX sibling relationships. Like long-lost half-brothers showing up out of the blue from long-dead parents, turning their lives upside down.

Plus, Mike and Ryan have strong chemistry, so their being frenemies could be fun. Though, as far as I'm aware, Mike and Danny still do not like each other, which is understandable considering the behind-the-scenes drama. And since Aaron and Robert are a double act and any best friend of Robert would also spend a lot of time around Aaron. I can not see that happening.

Though honestly, I have no idea where Ryan and Mike stand. All I know about what went down is that Mike has made peace with Isabel. But from what I have heard, Mike and Danny do not get on, though I guess they are civil, considering they work on the same show again and have shared scenes and stories.

Also, if it wasn't for Ross nicking Robert's car way back in the day. We probably wouldn't have Aaron and Robert. So basically, Ross helped Robert meet his soulmate.

Here is where I'm a giant hypocrite and cheat at my own rules.

Caleb:

I'm sure these two are more likely to be freenmies, considering the complicated relationship Caleb has with Aaron and the rest of the Dingles.

Plus, Caleb is his own morally gray complex character to bounce off of. Not to mention Robert's business and them both being ambitious businessmen.

I know it's unlikely, but I just think they would be really entertaining.

Ruby:

From what I have seen of her so far, I have quickly grown to love her character. She's complicated and messy; she likes to constantly slam the self-destruct button like another blonde I know. And I think she could use a bestie of her own, someone who could be fun and drama-filled, enter Robert. I think they would match each other's energy.

The only other friends' options I think she has are Chas and Moira, and they both have complicated relationships with her. Well, maybe Charity, though I don't think the show really lets them interact. She needs someone out than Caleb to interact with. Robert and Ruby could talk each other down, but also make each other worse. Which is perfect for a soap.

Mack:

I know he's Aaron's best friend, but if there is anyone who can keep up with Robert's chaotic energy, Mackenzie Boyd is your man. Also, we can all agree on the amount of competing sassy comments and pizzazz that these two would have. PURE ENTERTAINMENT all around. You just know that Lawrence and Ryan are going to deliver gold in their scenes together.

#robert sugden #nicola king #jimmy king #tracy robinson #vanessa woodfield #matty barton #ross barton #caleb milligan #ruby milligan #mackenzie boyd #emmerdale #ryan hawley #robron

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aquaaquila · 8 months ago

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My very long rant about The Owl House many will have issues reading

Felt like writing my hot takes within The Owl House and its fan base after witnessing some crazy drama all over the blogs I follow and followed:

First things first, I want to establish that there's nothing wrong with liking other ships that are non-canon or ships that are canon. We can all co-exist peacefully, but we won't if we're going to assume that shippers of other ships by default must be sexist or delusional or just the worst. There are plenty of bad apples among all the shippers here, but they're not necessarily the norm (though to be fair the norm usually enables the worst behaviors of such shippers). As a whole TOH isn't a healthy collective and could never be as this fan base is much larger than people realise (you can't have so many people invested with this show for the fan base to be supposedly chill, like Fat Chance).

Like really you can go from canon purists who will keep everything wholesome and silly but because of how starved the actual canon left them they will include a hundred different headcanons that are not in any way related to actual canon and still be upset as if the canon was threatened when you can just to agree with the headcanons alone. There's still, of course, an issue of canon purists literally rejecting everything that's in their mind is supposedly not okay because it strays away from canon in a more direct way. Then you will have Wittelore enjoyers who just love everything about Belos, Caleb, and Evelyn in various different expressions, but it can at times go to becoming lowkey colonist apologist territory along with pretty much-appropriating everything that applied to the character of color into these three when two of them canonically were never given a proper characterisation and Belos is not supposed to be just a victim that deserves grace but the very force that creates victims and the one to continue the cycle without remorse or second thoughts becoming the cycle itself, thus not making it any wrong to unceremoniously end it, though plenty of people will still have problem with it and wish the show validated Philip's feelings. However, you will also have POC defenders who will give the attention and love to characters of color they deserve and even the demon characters like King for example, and acknowledge how they're in fact the main characters while pointing out the clear white favoritism. But this can also go to an extreme territory where you will be called racist for actually finding white characters your favorite and still being interested more in their characters, which as I said is in fact incredibly extreme and disingenuous and also, something that will invalidate all the other good arguments by the virtue of this extreme being the underlying reason behind all of them and thus completely diminishing the problem because people will no longer take it seriously. Then you will have shippers of non-canon ships that are literally harassed by canon persists and were like that for years until they snapped and started to return the favor in the same way to the point of being delusional about how the canon pairings were not the original plan and how they actually suck and it's the non-canon pairing that should be canon which also further fuels the cycle and validates those who believe that somehow the shippers of other ships are after them specifically and how they mean o good when in fact they're the monsters they created themselves. This also leads to the infamous "critics" of the show who will pretty much hate anything within it to also inaccurate extreme that is based on assumptions born from the collective gaslight of some headcanons being canon, along with people judging the show on the surface and assuming things that were never the plan because they made a connection to something else they liked and got disappointed when those two things turned out to be unrelated (for example Hunter's arc being not like Zuko's arc when clearly it was never the point) and thus shushing away any potential criticism the show actually could get by the virtue of getting criticism that holds no water upon the closer look and thus makes people believe the show is, in fact, flawless or that the flaws don't matter in the slightest (when they do as they help improve future stories to not make the same mistakes and create something better). And of course, you will have people collectively gaslighting everyone around them that everything is fine and there's no drama in the show even though everyone hates each other here and fuel toxicity together by constantly drawing distinctions between "us and them" but never talking about how toxic it is.

Congratulations, we created our Emperor's Coven at home! This entire thing is pretty much the reason why I'm making this thing.

But back to the rest of the actual meat of this post, that was mere appetizer.

Second of all: Multishippers exist. Some people like both Lumity and Lunter and there are Lunter shippers who like Amity, me included as Amity's one of my favorite characters. It's disingenuous to assume Lunter shippers are by default lesphobic or just hate Amity. Heck, the reason Lunter shippers dislike Amity is less about her and more about the fan base's attitude. Imagine being constantly harassed that you don't ship mainstream ship by being specifically reminded that a specific lesbian exists, even if this isn't about her. You would be tired of her too because "good for her to be a happy lesbian", but Lumity may still not satisfy people as it's basically all fluff at this point. People are so overjoyed with them being together they hardly explore now possibilities of them going through something. At most, they will use green-haired Amity but people still will be waiting for green to turn into periwinkle, and fluff will just overwhelm anything else. And don't get me started on how both of them also end up being flanderised and dirty because of each other (as it goes both ways). People can just not vibe with that or be indifferent, but because people get harassed for daring to not love Lumity or Amity, they just end up hating it more. The issue is not Amity, the issue is Amity being the only option allowed. And gatekeeping people from enjoying other ships isn't ok. It really makes you feel like people erase aspects of their characters just to conform to a specific image of them and how can you accept something like this when the show is all about embracing weirdness and differences and not conforming to anything. Loving Lumity is a norm in this fan base, not a break with convention.

Third of all: I'm sorry to y'all but I think that considering Evelyn and Willow as literal parallels because they both fell in love with "Caleb" is disingenuous to both of them. No one would draw this connection if Willow wasn't romantically involved with Hunter. And while I don't disagree that Huntlow is goated and canon/semi-canon, their relationship is still left to interpretation and they are only implied to have a thing but not confirmed to be downright an item. We don't know 100% if they're dating, playing the long game, engaged, or amicably broken up. And that's great as both of their characters work in their own right and they don't need an established relationship to be fulfilled and people can interpret their relationship however they like, no need to throw pitchforks at one another. And Willow being dressed up AS A STEREOTYPE just doesn't help the case of her somehow being Evelyn's foil. Luz was dressed as an actual witch character (even if said witch is also not how real witches operate either, but it's still closer in meaning than Willow being dressed up as a devil as if Evelyn indeed charmed Caleb and he didn't fall in love with her like a normal person or that Evelyn was ever in the wrong to like a boy).

And as for Evelyn: please stop just summarising her up to Caleb's love interest for Titan's sake. We may not know much about her but we know that they did start as friends according to Dana's livestream and later on they would become parents to their child (if Belos didn't ruin it). Not only it's different from Huntlow as Huntlow didn't establish where they stand in their relationship at the end while it's clear that Evelyn and Caleb fucked, but Evelyn and Caleb had their love story that did take time (Huntlow at most is just getting started but for all, we know they could still break up in the future cause why not, it's their choice, first love isn't necessarily the only option). My point is that Evelyn's life didn't revolve around her love for Caleb alone so saying Willow and Evelyn are parallels because of them being lovers of our favorite white boys pretty much erases both of their characters. Evelyn's worth as a character doesn't end on getting pregnant, but also being a catalyst of all the events within the story, along with being a Clawthorne ancestor and original wild witch living between worlds.

Fifth point: this is where I bring Luz into this as the parallel, the infamous "Luz is Evelyn" everyone just loves to discard because it's only used as Lunter's argument and further making Evelyn only Caleb's bitch and nothing else, but here's a thing: you can use this parallel platonically to further spite Philip. People draw the connection because aside from having no romantic feelings towards "Caleb" (which is the only distinction between the two), Luz is also a wild witch (wild as in both wild personality-wise, wild as in everything Belos stands against (and side note: Willow being someone Belos wouldn't approve of is not a high bar because Belos would literally not approve of ANYBODY within our cast, so Willow's not special in this regard, heck Belos doesn't even know Willow all that much), wild as in using the very magic that came from the titan and wild as in a wild card that changed the course of history) that traveled between realms and came from another world (let's be real, Hunter is a witch from boiling isles, not a human from the earth, so Luz by a longshot matches the description better than Willow who's just a regular witch born in the demon realm to Hunter that frankly wouldn't be hurt or restrained by the coven system as she only uses plant magic from her bile sac and didn't go against the empire until season 1 finale and even then she didn't do it as a wild witch but child witch railing witches belonging to the coven to release Eda). Both of them also have loose association with Clawthornes as Luz isn't legally one but just a surrogate daughter of one and Evelyn's surname isn't known, the clan could've been established much later down the line or Evelyn's descendant married into Clawthorne's family, making Evelyn just an ancestor at best and distant at worst. I also already mentioned how both of them are catalysts to both the rise in power and the death of Philip while having massive guilt over it (Philip died on the inside as he killed Caleb, crossing the moral event horizon along with setting on the journey of destroying the entire realm. Plus I cannot imagine the survivor's guilt Evelyn must have felt over Caleb dying and orphaning their unborn child - which parallels Luz thinking she doomed her palisman by carving into an egg thinking it could never hatch because of how "she keeps on messing up constantly"). And of course, it's clear as day that Luz kickstarts Hunter's redemption arc by introducing Flapjack (and Evelyn did the same with Caleb, meanwhile Willow's only interaction with Flapjack is her giving him flowers on his grave; and it's worth noting as I doubt that Evelyn intentionally 'fixed" Caleb, much like Luz didn't intentionally "fixed" Hunter, though people sure love to think otherwise), making him question what he knows (a witch hunter falling in love with a witch - existential crisis is warranted, along with tones of guilt) and making him "betray" Belos (Hunter disobeyed Belos in HP and then questioned him directly in HM; Caleb "left Philip behind"). Like I'm sorry but Willow did nothing but wait till Hunter gets his shit together by himself (the only thing she actively tried to change his mind about is not judging a book by its cover but that's where it ends; she didn't call him out on doing the utterly terrible thing of kidnapping them to his cult nor anything else he did that wasn't morally correct) while Luz openly defied him and his worldview for him to come to his senses ("You're really going to take all those Palismen? I know what he does with them. I thought you were a good guy, but that was just wishful thinking" Hunter then proceeds to protect Luz from Kikimora, reveals his name, and lets Luz go with the Palismen just like that). Trivia: Evelyn also has brunette hair that is wild and tied back, Luz used to have them too early on but shorter, and currently they're curly.

That's where parallel comes from. That's what Evelyn us to Caleb: catalyst of change. Yes, Luz isn't in love with Hunter, but we could headcanon away that Caleb would be merely an uncle of Evelyn's kid, who's going to stop us from doing that? We can even make it that Philip felt replaced by Evelyn by her being Caleb's "new sibling" just for the fun of interpretation of the character.

But even if we won't do that (as no one forces us) then we must remember that parallel characters are not 2 characters being one and the same. Evelyn and Luz would still be separate entities and there's no crime in that. Luz not falling in love with a blond white boy is fine because that isn't and shouldn't be Evelyn's defining trait. Evelyn's defining trait is kickstarting change in Caleb which kickstarts Belos's vendetta against Witches. Romance was a bonus.

My sixth point: Last but not least let's finally talk about the elephant in the room that is parallel between Philip and Luz. All interpretations are valid, if you're choosing to interpret them like that, it's your valid choice and opinion. But saying that it's THE thing that happened within the show is just not correct and let me explain why before you discard me altogether if you haven't already.

Luz projected into Belos and Belos took advantage of that.

There, I said it, that's the ultimate truth of the show, you literally cannot deny this isn't how it happened.

Luz pretty much only had Philip as a point of reference to someone who shared her experience of a human in the demon realm. However, if she got to know Caleb instead of Philip, he would be the one Luz would compare herself to him. Ironically, she would be more correct as both of them are humans who run away to the demon realm after being possibly rejected by the closed-minded society and leaving behind unpleasant reality and their only living family member who they didn't realize how much they've hurt for choosing to leave them for the world that made them happy and helped them flourish (compare starved Caleb in Belos's vision to Caleb living in the demon realm and introducing Philip to Evelyn before he decided to kill them,). You could even say that Luz is a fusion of both Caleb and Evelyn at once. But unfortunately, Luz doesn't know Caleb as well as the audience does, all she knows is that he used to be a witch hunter who fell in love with Evelyn but that's about it. She doesn't know that he even has a connection to the portal door or Clawthorne ancestry.

So with no one else as a point of reference, Luz is going to compare herself to Philip Whattabitch. She assumed that she must be as bad as Belos because she thought he sincerely thought he was doing everything for a genuine reason and not because he was just a douchebag. Sure Philips's motivations are complex, but they don't come from a good place in the slightest. The Titan himself literally asks Luz if she's drunk on Eda's apple blood for thinking she's just as bad as Belos.

Like seriously, Luz stumbled on the Isles by pure accident. It was never for a reason or a higher purpose. She was never "destined" to go there, but it was her actions and decisions that led her there and changed the world around her. She didn't know the reason why she landed on Boiling Isles because there never was any reason or a prophecy to justify her presence there as it was never needed. This is not the same as Belos who willingly went to the demon realm to both find his brother and destroy all the witches. Luz very quickly grew out of "I'm the chosen one" whereas Belos made himself a false messiah. Even the Titan said that she's not chosen to be given Titan powers by fate but for her actions and kindness she's given them to support her and it was her decision to accept them. Not to mention that she respected the Isles, the inhabitants, and the magic that was part of this world, while all Belos ever did was destroy, murder, and steal it all for himself.

The show doesn't tell you Luz and Belos are foils, the show tells you that Luz VIEWS herself as Belos's foil, but she's nothing like him. Even their respective hero complexes are different. Luz seeks self-improvement to find a community for herself to belong to. But Belos? Belos wants to get praise and glory for slaughtering "the evil". Those two are not the same because Belos doesn't care about anyone but himself while Luz is all about what other people feel and think about her and she sacrifices herself multiple times for other people's sake. Belos would never do that. Belos wasn't even happy that Caleb was actually well and healthy in the demon realm, in contrast to the vision where Caleb is starved and sleep-deprived because he had to look after him ever since they were little orphans, sacrificing his own well-being. But Luz would rather give up her own hopes and dreams just to not see anyone she cares about ever put themselves on the line like that.

At most, I can agree that Luz represents what's best in humanity and Belos represents the worst, but that is still an incredibly broad concept that just doesn't contribute much to the actual story of TOH which isn't about humanity as a whole. And I'm sorry but this parallel is just used to woobify Belos and villanise Luz, something that certainly is not right. Because even if you made Belos a hero and Luz a villain, they'd still be nothing like one another.

Even Luz's dynamic with Hunter is nothing like Caleb and Philip. Caleb and Philip grew up together and they were the entire world to one another growing up. But Luz and Hunter didn't even have each other when growing up, they didn't get to know them until their teens, and the first time they meet they were at each other's throats which is different from Wittebane brothers having a loving relationship early on only for Belos to stab Caleb. Arguably, even if liked the idea of Luz and Hunter being siblings, I'd be disappointed with how much the show didn't do anything with them and it's always the fan base that pulls heavy weight on them being sibling-like. Like Hunting Palismen is them not even being friends let alone family and it's still supposed to be the pinnacle of their sibling rivalry, even though they were actual enemies and Luz is just as petty and immature here as she is with Kikimora? Luz supposedly didn't go after Hunter after he ran away from the Owl House whereas she did chase King when he learned the truth in Echoes of the Past? Supposedly we never had an on-screen scene where Hunter officially becomes a Noceda? I'm sorry but I will take a "You're family" from Afro-Latina as not confirmation that I'm a sibling but a friend who is close enough to be as valued as a family member, especially followed by Willow's "You're one of us now" and preceded with Camila's "I'm a mother of six". Are Hunter and Willow siblings too now? Hunter didn't even get to be in a photo of the Noceda family in the epilogue, what kind of brother would that be?

Camila is more of a Caleb to Luz considering it was her who raised Luz through trials and tribulations, sacrificing her own quirks and encouraging Luz to do the same just to conform to the norms of Gravesfield. But quite frankly it's Luz who ultimately runs away because of a certain Clawthorne Witch leaving Camila behind. Hunter literally has no such story with Luz, unless you count him running away in HM, only to return to COTH a week later and then finally live under Nocedas' roof.

Even when Luz didn't like Hunter's guts, she would never kill him. And despite being dressed up as Belos in the nightmare sequence, there's never a parallel between Philip and Caleb, because truly this isn't their relationship. And while we're at it, the whole nightmare sequence is once again a play on Luz's insecurities and doubts, but none of them are the truth. None of Luz's friends blame her for what happened, none of Belos's crimes are her crimes, and Luz would never willingly destroy the Boiling Isles because she doesn't destroy the things or people she hates. Even Belos was not finished off by Luz but by boiling rain and her family.

Ok, I finished venting about everything that's been going on inside my head. Might add more on the way, but those were the issues that were bugging me so now do whatever you want with it.

#long post #toh #the owl house #toh critical #toh fan base #toh fan base critical #vent post #maybe I'll add some venting about how Hunter's treated in the fan base #but I laready said a lot of related and unrelated stuff #toh fandom critical

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