#or caleb

[t-hirstreview]

[astrablacksworld]

Sylus, who’s rarely ever gets drunk even tho he consumes an unhealthy amount of wine, gets into a fight with someone who was harassing a woman but the owner of the bar called the police ( he’s in linkon for some reason, just bare with me pls)

So when mc gets a call in the middle of the night by the freaking police station, she freaks out and almost doesn’t pick up.

When she finally does pick up the call, she finds out that Sylus is in the police station for physical assault so she goes there and when the police tells her that her boyfriend beat up some guy. All Sylus says is

“My dearest, I didn’t do that, but if I did, I was drunk”

(Based on something that happened in my Pinterest board wiget thing)

[puffin-smoke]

redactedtober 12!! today is dealer's choice, so I'll gladly take this as an opportunity to ramble about my OCs.

Dealer's Choice; Bernadette Popovski and her Circus!!

(and sweetheart)(I talk a lot during this one, sorry!)

[F4A] Reopening The Case on Your Infuriating Illusory Ringleader

Bernadette's Circus has always walked a fine line in terms of keeping covert. It showed off the full extent of the empowered's powers while keeping it's largely unempowered audience, although there were a few shock and elation daemons who regularly visited their shows, none the wiser. It caused the Department many a headache. So the Circus was put under strict surveillance and the investigation of whatever Detective was bullheaded enough to think that they might be the one to put the Circus under.

Naturally, Sweetheart took the case.

They never found anything. Every audience member was astonished by the incredible special effects and skillful performers; the way the lion tamer could hold his head in between the lion's jaws without even flinching, the escape artist that was in chains one moment and roaming the audience the next, the acrobat who seemed to walk on air.

All they got for their troubles was a mountain of paperwork and too much time spent with the infuriating Bernadette Popovski.

"Oh, please, love- call me Bernie. Everyone does."

Sweetheart never did take that advice, and more often referred to her as "that cocky little shit". Not to her face. That would be against protocol.

So after months of getting nowhere and a perpetual headache from trying to get a straight answer out of the illusory, the case was dropped. That was the only case Sweetheart never solved.

"If this whole- detective thing falls through, feel free to give me a call. I'm sure we could find a place for you here."

It took everything they had not to deck her right then and there, and just walk out of the tent. It took even more to push their frustration and humiliation down and move on with their life, to forget that goddamn circus.

Four years passed. They moved onto different cases, different people to be annoyed at. Bernadette and her stupid smile and Russian accent faded into the deepest recesses of their mind.

Until they heard about something. An incident at the Circus. A dead audience member.

The case was back on, and this time they were going to close it.

"Detective. I wish I could say I am surprised."

It was, once again, nearly impossible to get anything out of them. Her voice had taken on a new edge, a farcry from her casual, lilting tone all those years ago. This one was defensive, tired. Now Sweetheart held all the cards, no more grasping at straws.

"I'll tell you what I told the human officer. I was debuting a new performer, a singer. Partway through an audience member fell over. By the time I got over there, they had died."

She had decided it had been a heart attack and that was all she knew. The performer, a sonal energetic by the sound of it, was holed up in her tent and Bernadette's voice took on a deadly edge when they asked to be taken to her.

"She's been through enough, she doesn't need you pestering her."

Apparently doing their job was pestering. The conversation went almost nowhere from there, and they were able to ascertain very little else. An audience member had tried to perform CPR, and clearly failed. The lion tamer, a telepath the name of Caleb, had seen the victim collapse and gone to tell Bernadette. They didn't get any further than that, but it was a start.

It was more than they'd gotten four years ago.

The ringleader didn't object as heavily to them speaking to Caleb. She was even somewhat helpful, directing them to where the telepath would probably be. But it was not without a warning.

"I understand, Detective. Go ask your questions. But, what's the phrase- my circus, my monkeys. So please don't tap the glass."

Cocky bastard couldn't even bothered to not seem suspicious during a murder investigation.

[MM4A] Interrogating Two Stubborn Circus Performers

Apparently Bernadette had trained her people well. They were just as tight lipped as she was.

They clearly knew Sweetheart had been coming, along with what that might mean for their circus; as they made their way through the rows of tents and caravans dozens of eyes had followed them, along with a a trail of whispers just loud enough for them to overhear. When they found Caleb he wasn't alone; sat a few feet away a man was giving them the death glare while simultaneously looking at Caleb like a kicked puppy. They cocked their eyebrow at that, to which the telepath laughed.

"Oh, sorry about Aslan. He's just a little bit antsy, I'm sure you understand."

When they remarked that he looked like he was about to bite their head off, he just grinned at them and turned towards the shifter. They were pretty sure he was the only one smiling in that whole field.

"Don't worry, he'd never. I'm living proof of that- hey babe! You can go, I'll meet you by the ticket booth, alright?"

That seemed to calm him down; he nodded, got up from where he was sat, and made his way over to the pair. Eyes moderately less murderous, he kissed the telepath goodbye and began to stalk through the rows of tents, checking back over his shoulder every now and again, somehow making eye contact with Sweetheart every time.

Thus the interrogation began. And while Caleb was more friendly than his boss, he was certainly no more helpful. Each question was artfully dodged or optimistically spun.

"You want to know about Bernie? Hell- she's family to me. To all of us really, even Aslan. He's a big softie, would never admit it."

His story lined up neatly with Bernadette's. He's seen a disturbance in the crowd and gone to tell her about it, since she was more experienced healer than he was, but by the time she'd made her way over there, the victim was already gone. It had been too late. The audience had been quickly cleared out after that and emergency services had been called, for all the good they could do.

As they pressed for information on the new performer, his smile faltered. Only for a moment or so, almost imperceptibly, but it was stark in Sweetheart's mind.

"Oh- well, I really think it was a spot of bad luck. They'd been singing, putting their all into it, and that person just happened to- well."

He laughed nervously, his fingers twitching at his sides.

"Look, I really should go find Aslan. We're supposed to be practising, do you mind if I go? I really have nothing else to say."

Before they could reply he was already halfway across the field, still grinning, but the smile quivering at the edges.

"Good luck, Detective! Sorry I couldn't have been more helpful!"

And with that he was gone.

And they were no closer to piecing things together.

Shit.

Surely the singer wouldn't mind if they just popped into her tent, asked a few questions. And if Popovski said not to do it, then they basically had to.

It took a few minutes of searching but they eventually found the tent, on the farthest reaches of the field, the amount of tents slowly thinning out as they approached. They hadn't necessarily meant to eavesdrop, but who were they to complain if their footfalls were particularly quiet, or the thrum of distant conversation muffled the sound of them stepping on a branch just as well as cloaking would.

"I know- it's okay. I know you didn't do anything, nothing that happened was your fault."

Sweetheart held their breath. The brittle way Bernadette spoke was so alien to her, it's previous edge still there but now akin to shattered glass. There was a gentleness to it, a tenderness.

"I'm going to protect you. I'll protect everyone."

Sweetheart wondered how far they'd go to do that. How much they'd cover up. How much they would sacrifice.

"I promise you, my Magnum Opus."

[google-searchhistory-official]

Look at you, clinging to dreams you know you've convinced yourself are impossible to achieve. Not for others, only you. You took on a "go with the flow" attitude so effective that no one else can even guess at the anxiety boiling just beneath your skin. A smile so practiced that only you know is fake. You have no plans for the future other than to live and help those you love reach their dreams.

You hate that they want you to achieve your dreams too. Because every hope for the future you expressed was a lie. You have no plans, only coasting on what others said you were good at. You have no self identity, only what others say you are. You are tired of not knowing who you are, but you killed the kid that could have helped you figure out who you want to be. Starting from scratch, wanting to be a person, but too broken by instant dopamine fixes that the executive function you need to achieve even that is nonexistent.

Who are you? The mirror won't answer and you refuse to look at the reflection. Who could you be? Only more anxiety to bubble under your flesh. Who were you? A robot, who never knew how to take pride in achievement and felt only embarrassment at acknowledgement. Can you keep living like this? You have no choice. You need to change. But until you do, you are stuck in a damned if you do damned if you don't mindset.

[grabby-smitten]

For being a Sylus main… I think about perverted stuff with Xavier and Rafayel too much.

[jasmines-greentea]

My snowman doctor looks a little different 😃🔫

Kitties please come get ur man I think he's lost 🫠 my purely grinded f2p 9k+ diamonds... all down the drain... 💀💀💀

[devilfated]

in another life i would rp as blair waldorf or robin scherbatsky

[bibbysstuff]

Mc in Lingeries, Li addition

[anona1-mous]

‼️cw: blood, horror art

"out of all the grimwalkers, you looked the most like him."

[hello-lumi]

cuteness aggression

[akiisks]

Measuring? 📏

inspired by: baobei-bu

[qinche-cvmslvt]

WEAR HEADPHONES

NSFW

2 minutes of Caleb fingering you and then fucking you.

Excluding bgm. All audio and sfx come from the game. No Ai. 🤤😏

[philosians]

the thunder literally rattled everything

[sugarladytum]

The kitty and the frog ✨

[luvcaleb]

I'LL BE GENTLE.

nsfw (18+). includes first time, virginity loss, unprotected sex, porn with feelings, caleb is a virgin loser who pretends he's a sex god but is actually ready to cum the moment he slides it in, cunnilingulus, lots of nicknames, belly bulge because caleb is huge, creampie (because i firmly believe he's into breeding). likes and reblogs will be very helpful !!

”Hng... is it all in yet?”

The question almost sounds silly, reminiscent of the times you went on trips with Caleb and you'd ask him if you were there yet every five minutes. But you can't laugh now because you feel like your body's about to split apart, filled to the brim as Caleb breaches your cunt as slowly as he can manage.

He's gripping each side of your waist, his restraint felt through the faint trembling of his fingers. Be patient, he chants in his mind, sweat dripping down his temples. If you're not careful, you're going to hurt her.

But all that leaves his mouth is, “Just half. You're too tight, pipsqueak. Feels like you're about to cut my dick off.”

“Half?!” you exclaim in disbelief. You do know for a fact that Caleb is quite... big. Not that you have a frame of reference — this is the first time you've seen one, most definitely the first time you've ever taken one, but knowing you only have half inside you when you feel full is. Kind of making you crazy. Just a bit.

You hit him in the chest with a loose fist. “This is your fault. You're too big.”

Caleb laughs weakly, sounding like the wind is knocked out of him. “You're blaming me for something I can't control now?”

“Yes, I am. How do you even— walk around with that thing? I don't think that's a normal size.” You're blabbering. All you've said thus far is probably the most unsexy thing Caleb's ever heard, nothing like the dirty talk in the porn DVDs under Caleb's childhood bed that he insists were from his high school friends and he didn't watch any of it.

Even so, the desire in Caleb's eyes doesn't dwindle. He leans down to caress your cheek, the softness in his expression making your heart race. “Well, too bad. This is the only one you're getting.” He traces the line of your jaw, peppering kisses over the column of your neck. “You can't do this with anyone but me, right?”

It isn't a question, and Caleb certainly won't take no for an answer.

“...Caleb, you say the craziest things someti— ?!” You squeak as Caleb starts rubbing your clit in tight circles, sucking new marks onto your collarbone. You loosely grasp his flicking wrist, conflicted between pushing his hand away or pulling it closer. “Don't— do that so suddenly— ah!”

“I know you can take me in. You just have to try harder,” he murmurs to your skin, feeling your walls spasm around his cock with every flick of his fingers. Watery noises soon follow his motions, embarrassingly audible along with the whimpers you try and fail to hide. His heart squeezes in his chest when you hold onto his back tighter, letting out small ‘ah-ah-ah’s that send heat directly to his cock.

“Caleb...” you mutter weakly, dazed eyes staring at the ceiling. “Caleb...!” you gasp with more urgency when he changes the rhythm, rubbing faster as he slowly slides another inch inside your pussy.

“Just a bit more, baby...” Caleb hisses as you engulf him in your warmth, walls clenching around him wetly. “Yeah, that's it... just like that... mn, good girl...”

Finally, you feel his pelvis press against your skin, the entirety of his thick cock inside you. You let out a shuddering breath, fingers running through Caleb's sweat-matted hair, attempting to adjust to the new sensation of fullness.

The feeling of being full is indescribable; it feels new, perhaps a bit uncomfortable, and yet it's also fulfilling, knowing you're connected with the person you've always longed for in the most intimate way possible.

Caleb's panting with the exertion of holding back, his hand cupping your cheek, tenderly swiping over the soft skin with his thumb. “Do you feel any pain?”

You shake your head, leaning to his warm palm. “No, I just feel... a lot right now.”

Caleb smiles in relief, pecks a kiss on your forehead, and sucks in a breath when his gaze trails lower on your body. His hand on your waist moves to splay on your stomach, the direct pressure evoking a sharp “ah!” out of your lips.

“N... no way...” you stare at the faint bulge in both mortification and arousal. “Is that— your—”

Your stomach is... not supposed to look like that. It isn't, right? But Caleb is looking at you with such awe and wonder, tracing the highest point of the bulge on your stomach, the tendrils of desire swirling in his gaze darkening further.

Slowly, Caleb pulls out until only the tip remains inside, and you watch as your stomach flattens with his movement. “Fuck,” he says with feeling. “Please tell me I can move.”

No, you can't, you want to say. Just the sight of him filling you up — in the literal sense of the word — is overwhelming. But you know Caleb is holding back for your sake. Always has been.

Has held back probably before you could even remember, playing the role of an older brother figure looking out for his reckless sister to suppress the feelings he's long learned to ignore. Has held back every time a boy looked at you with lovestruck eyes in high school, staring at the love letter on your desk but never commenting on it. Has held back whenever you told him you were going to a mixer your friends cajoled you into joining, zipping up your dress for the night and reminding you to call him when you were done so he could come pick you up.

He has been holding back even just a while ago, patiently stretching you open with his fingers as he kissed away the apprehension in your eyes, often asking you if it hurt and if you wanted to stop. And if you said yes, he really would; he'd wash you up, carry you to the dining table, and cook up a midnight snack for you before cuddling to sleep. You know that because Caleb would do anything for you.

So now, with the veins on his arms pronounced from the strain of gripping the sheets, his eyes attentively looking at your expression for any signs of pain, you can only say one thing. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Fuck me, Caleb.”

There's a hitch of a breath. And then he slides home.

Each thrust of his hips is pronounced with wet plaps, obscenely loud while slick dribbles out of your cunt, pooling into the sheets beneath you. His cock is covered in your arousal, glistening in your wetness, and he pounds into you again and again, watching your cunt cling to him every time he pulls out.

“You seriously...” Caleb groans, his loving gaze tinted with hungry desire. A delighted thrill runs through him each time you call his name sweetly, nails raking down lines on his back, the cutest noises leaving your mouth. “I wanted to treat you gently, but I can't hold back if you say it like that.”

He's dreamed of this for a long time, as far back as a teenager hitting puberty. The prettiest girl on his bed, disheveled by his doing, clinging around him as he pounds her to the mattress, able to take her however he wants and allowed to whisper the overflowing affection he feels without needing to hide it anymore.

It was once a fleeting dream. Just something he knows will never come true, so long as your relationship doesn't change. At one point, your relationship even almost seemed irreparable.

But you stubbornly pulled him back to you. Even when it hurt you. Even when he was content to look after you from a distance. Even when he accepted that no matter how much he wanted you, his love would never mean anything if you didn't love him back.

But you allowed him this much. You allowed him to be in such close proximity, to shower you with affectionate kisses, to lick up your tears. You gave yourself to him, your firsts, your heart, your love.

It's more than he ever hoped for.

“Mine...” he mumbles to himself, kissing at every expanse of skin he can reach. “You're really mine...”

Caleb's hands roam over your curves, caressing your body with care, plucking away at all your sensitive spots. A smattering of red marks appear with every press of his lips, and he never gets enough of seeing them bloom.

“C-Caleb, don't suck there... Everyone's going to see them,” you whine, trembling with the pleasure. His hips never stop driving forward, aimed at the spot that makes your toes curl, your walls squeezing down on him. It's hot, wet, and so damn good to feel you gushing around him, soaked in your warmth.

“Let them see.” He sucks another mark beneath your jaw. Satisfaction curls deep in his chest when he thinks how it'll peek through the collar of your hunter's uniform. “It'll drive away the pests.”

It's not something he'd say on an ordinary day. But restraint slips from his fingers each time you indulge him, and this time is no different.

“Ah, mmh, haa...!”

“Does it feel good when I thrust shallowly like this?” He presses insistently against a spot that has you writhing, clawing at his back. “Or you like being fucked deep?”

He sheathes himself in one go, the sound of his balls smacking against your ass absolutely filthy. Squealing, you cream around him, fresh spurts of slick soaking his cock. “Fuck,” you gasp, grasping at his broad shoulders for purchase.

Caleb grins. “Yeah,” he breathes out, feeling your wetness drip down his thighs, “that's what I thought.” And he does it again.

Plap, plap, plap. The slap of skin on skin continues to ring out, each time wetter than the last. You're trying to bury yourself under the covers, but Caleb certainly doesn't mind the mess. Revels in it, even, watching the glistening slick coat him further.

“Come on, now, don't hide your face,” he coos, picking up the blanket you've taken to hiding your face with. “I want to see you.”

“Mmgh... no way...” your voice is trembling, teary eyes looking up at him in a show of upset. “I'm— ah— making a weird face right now...!”

“No, you're not.” He presses a kiss on your forehead. Your closed eyes. The tip of your nose. “You're so cute. The most gorgeous woman I've ever laid eyes on. So don't try to hide, yeah? Let me see you.”

“Ah, hn, Caleb, that's— !”

“Feels good here?”

“Yes, yes, right there! Ohh...”

Caleb groans, “You just squeezed me so tight.” He licks a stripe up the valley of your breasts, tongue swirling around a nipple, all the while never leaving his eyes on your pleasured expression. When he grinds against a spongy spot, you jolt underneath him, a loud cry of his name spilling from your lips.

So cute so cute so cute, the desperate chant in his mind continues to say, his hips tirelessly driving forward to plunge into your warmth. You sound so sweet, gasping and moaning uncontrollably, crying out for his cock.

“Caleb,” you sob, trying to string together a coherent thought. “Is it just me or, mmph, you became even bigger?”

Caleb laughs, almost apologetic. A peck lands on your jaw. “Sorry, sweetheart. I can't help it.”

You hit your fist on his back. “Help it! I think I'll split into two if there's even just an extra centimeter in me...!”

“Even if you tell me that much...” he hisses through gritted teeth, trying to keep his head clear in spite of your walls spasming against him, hot and wet and so slick he hears every move he makes. “Mm, fuck... You feel too good inside, baby... I've been trying not to cum since we started...”

He buries his face to your neck, breathing in your scent. You shiver, his warm breath tickling your skin, thrusts slowing but hitting deep all the same. “A-are you close, Caleb?”

“I'm doing all I can so I won't be, pips.”

“Well, I...” you swallow, weaving your fingers through his hair. “I don't mind if you... cum first.”

“No.” His hands find your thighs, gripping at the soft flesh to spread your legs wider. Your folds are an enticing color, sucking around his cock, and he has to bite his lip to avoid letting out a pathetic moan. “This night is about you. I want to make you feel good.”

He sits up, and you almost protest when he pulls out, the gaping emptiness nearly leaving you cold. “Wait—”

“Shh,” Caleb leans down, hooking your legs over his broad shoulders. “Leave everything to me.”

He pools saliva at the tip of his tongue, letting it drip down your cunt. He smears it messily around your clit with his thumb, rubbing and prodding, watching your face twist in pleasure with a hooded gaze.

“Caleb, you— haa!”

Whatever you're about to say is interrupted by a scream when Caleb begins to lick, his tongue lapping at your pussy almost hungrily. He swirls it around your little bud, encloses it around with his lips to suck. You begin pulling his hair when he dips his tongue inside your hole, drinking up the juices that overflow and drip down his chin.

Caleb has never looked so disheveled before, sweat dotting his skin and almost looking feverish. He looks drunk between your legs, utterly intoxicated by your taste, lapping up everything he can collect on his tongue. He doesn't mind suffocating like this, his nose buried in your scent, sucking your essence. He certainly doesn't mind it when you start grinding on his face, pulling him even closer, nearly leaving him with no room to breathe. His cock feels close to bursting at the sounds you make alone.

“Ohh, that feels so good, Caleb! Mm...!”

“Shit, you really like this, huh...”

Caleb doubles his efforts, plunging his fingers into your cunt alongside his tongue. He spreads your hole, digs his digits deep, thoroughly pleased when your wetness never stops leaking. It just keeps coming out, soaking his fingers and the bottom half of his face.

“Caleb, I'm close,” you whine as you shake, hips grinding back to his skilled mouth, “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, cumming—”

You moan high and reedy, back arching as you lose yourself to the pleasure. Yet at the first spurt of cum that lands on his tongue, Caleb quickly sits up and pulls out his fingers.

He pins your legs to the mattress and thrusts back inside in one go, your pussy still spasming from cumming.

“Fuck!” you scream, nails scratching down his back. “Wait, I'm still cumming! I just came!”

Caleb doesn't stop, fucking his cock deeper with each splash of your cum soaking his skin. “You're so fucking tight when you cum, fuuuck...” he hisses, hastening his thrusts, hips having a mind of their own. Everything feels so good that his mind is getting dumbed down from your delicious warmth. “Baby, give me one more, I have to feel you cumming around me.”

He pounds you to the mattress relentlessly, every trace of restraint gone in his body. The only thing in his brain is the single-minded focus of making you cum again, pulling out more sweet noises from your mouth. He delights in each spurt of arousal that comes out when he presses against a good spot, and he knows it's good because you squeeze around him so nicely.

“It feels so good,” you sob to his shoulder. “Caleb, ohh, ahn!”

“Feels good for me too, princess. You're perfect, fuck!” Caleb snaps his hips, almost reaching completion. “I'm gonna cum soon. Where do you want it, princess? Where do you want me to cum?”

You wrap your legs around his waist, causing him to slide even deeper inside you. “Inside! Cum inside!”

He swears under his breath, cock pulsing. His hand travels south to toy with your clit again, rubbing incessantly to make you cum faster. Clear liquid squirts out of your cunt and he fucks you through it sloppy, holding your legs steady while you writhe from the overstimulation.

“I'm going to cum inside you, baby.” With one last thrust, he stills inside your cunt, releasing his cum deep inside. “Ohh, princess, I'm cumming— take every last drop, fuck, shit—”

He crushes you to the mattress, squeezing you in his arms as his cock shoots out strings of cum. “You did so well,” he murmurs, kissing everywhere he can reach. You lean more to his touch, tired yet fulfilled. “Sorry, that was too much, wasn't it? Does your body hurt?”

“I'm fine...” you wince when you feel cum drip out of your cunt at the slightest shift of position. “...Caleb.”

He's still kissing you all over your face, hands cupping your cheeks. “Hm?”

“You're still hard.”

Another kiss on your brow. “Don't mind it, princess. I'll handle it myself.”

“Oh...” you fiddle with the tag on his necklace, gnawing on your lip. “I was going to say I could help out.”

“...”

“Caleb? ...Did you just cum a little?”

“No, fuck, just— come here.”