#poc mcs

[hrhmimieucliffe]

IF YOU'RE A BLACK LADS FAN, MAKE SOME NOISE‼️‼️‼️

Appreciation post for my fellow Black LaDS fans. Show off your pretty MCs in the Reblogs!! (+ with your fave) Let's engage with each other and follow each other!! Let's help each other be seen!!! Share your content, whether it's LaDS related or not, or NSFW or SFW, Fanart, Fanfiction, Renders, etc!!

[laddelulu30]

Grey Shirt Ovulation

tags: Breeding kink, multiple orgasms, mirror sex,

Pairings: POC Non-MC/Reader x Caleb

A/N: So.. This is dedicated to a fellow Tumblr whose prompt I found and immediately jumped at the idea. I know I have other WIPs that I’m already working on. But I honestly couldn’t resist. This is for you @minaaa444. Thank you for the stimulation…. I mean motivation. You came up with the idea and my debauched mind did the rest. I hope I did you proud. Likes, reposts, and comments are very appreciated. Because I have a praise kink. So, if you liked it, tell me I did a good job, that I was a good girl. And even if you didn’t like it, tell me anyway. It helps me learn what to do and what not to do.

also tagging: @ainsley-official @marvichi @fuckin0-0anime @harrys-sunflower-bakery

@unintentionalseductress @jinwoosbabyboo @aeyumicore @lyn31 @zaynes-wifey @someprettyname @uyai1101-lads

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You had just sent in a request to have the next four days off. Which had taken an additional three days before Team Leader Jenna could approve it.

“Congrats Hunter, your four day leave has been approved. Should I be concerned why my most dedicated and talented Deepspace Hunter has requested time off?” she asks.

“Nothing serious, I promise,” you laugh, giving her an easy smile, “You have nothing to worry about. I’ll return to full duty as soon as my requested days up.”

“Alright,” she says, but you can tell by her expression that she doesn’t quite believe you, but she doesn’t press.

You take your things from your work locker then make your way home.

Standing in your living room, feeling the stillness in the air,

you start to feel restless.

Without a thought… or a plan for that matter. You take a trip to Skyhaven.

Almost as if you had been called there, you go to Caleb’s place. You have a key, and you know the code, so you don’t think to call or text him to let him know that you’re

So… you just walk in.

Not that Caleb would’ve minded. He likes having you in his space. But with your conflicting schedules, seeing each other became more of a pipe dream than a possible reality.

Until at this moment.

Closing the door and locking it behind you, you take a few steps inside then stop.

Looking around, you felt the same burning need to do…. something. You weren’t sure what, but you’d figure it out.

Touching everything fleetingly, like a gentle caress. It almost seemed like you were visiting him for the very first time, and you were curious about everything in sight.

But it wasn’t your first time here. And it was still early, nearly midday.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. You had never been home around this time, not working or the very least on a mission.

So.. this was all new territory for you.

After a few more minutes of aimless idling, touching random

What to do? you thought to yourself.

things, you decide to cook something for yourself.

You make yourself a small pot of braised pork belly over rice. Which turns out to feed at least three more people.

You snort, mocking yourself for poor size control but then praise your cooking.

You’ve gotten better. Cooking with Caleb has been upping your cooking skills.

After polishing off your bowl, you clean up what you used to cook, then set the pot to really low heat and put the lid on it. You wash dishes then dry them.

Then you decide to soak in the bath… until you remember.

You didn’t bring anything with you.

But you’re already here. And there was no way you were gonna head home when there was a sliver of a chance that Caleb already has what you needed in his place.

And since Caleb kept his place so immaculate. Orderly. OCD type orderly. You were sure he had something you could use… and wear.

You really did act like an impulsive teenager coming all the way to Skyhaven without some semblance of a plan.

Taking a chance, you checkout his bathroom anyway. And you’re surprised when you find your favorite oils, bathing milk, body wash, shampoo & conditioner, and body lotion tucked underneath his cabinet in the bathroom.

You want to question it, but at this moment, you’re thankful more than anything.

He even had your strawberry cheesecake body scrub that you liked.

A man that listened and remembered. Was such a turn on. But you push the thought away, pouring the vanilla bathing milk in the hot water as it filled the tub.

When you got it where you wanted it, you turned the water off and got naked, sinking into the water. An appreciative moan echoes off the walls of the bathroom.

The water felt amazing.

You soak in the water for an hour before bathing and getting out. You clean the tub then wrap a towel around your thick, curvy figure, hair pulled up from a scrunchie that had been in Caleb’s cabinet.

A scrunchie you hadn’t realized you’d left, but he had held on to.

You go into his bedroom, curiously rifling through his drawers with one hand. And you discover that in one of the drawers… is a new pack of underwear. Lace. Your size.

You open them but they smell like fabric softener.

“He must’ve washed them and then returned them to their original package…” you muse aloud, eyes drawn to a pair of red lace boy shorts.

So… You put them on then allow the towel to drop, looking for one of his shirts you could wear. Your eyes stop on a grey shirt with the logo of the flying academy Caleb had gone to before going to work with the DAA.

You put the shirt up to your nose, inhaling it. The shirt is clean, but smells like him. Like cinnamon and apples. Crisp. And mouthwatering.

The scrunchie out of your hair. Your dark red hair falls down your back in a cascade of damp waves, caressing your lower back.

Mine. Your mind claims and so you put it on, taking

You look in the mirror, trying to admire your reflection. Your eyes take in your appearance. Thick plushy thighs. Smooth chocolate skin. Petite frame. Hazel green eyes.

To Caleb, you looked like a Deity fallen to Philos. A temptation he wouldn’t resist.

But to you..

You move away from the mirror, picking up after yourself so that you don’t make a mess or leave one behind.

Besides, you want to surprise him. If that’s possible.

You leave the room, going into his other bedroom, curious to see what’s in there.

It’s the guest room you had used once before but now, during your absence… was unrecognizable. He had remodeled it to fit your tastes.. Should you have wished to rest in a separate room.

“He’s so unbelievably sweet, it would give someone a tooth ache, or a cavity,” you laugh to yourself.

You have another thought. One darker.. more sinful.

“I bet he looks sexy in that uniform,” you murmur to yourself, fingers inching to touch. Him. Yourself. Anything to make the fire go away.

You look around, checking the clock on the wall for the time.

2:38 p.m.

It’s still early enough. Maybe you could… and maybe he’d be working and you didn’t have to risk him catching you rubbing one out in his shirt… and the underwear he bought for you.

You had to admit that the mere thought was sounding more enticing by the second.

Without hesitating for another second, you close the door to the guest room, locking it behind you.

You lay on the bed, observing that it also smelled like Caleb.

Had he slept here as well when he had his own bedroom? you wonder, the thought a whisper in the back of your mind.

Your mind hadn’t lingered on the thought for long.Your body had more… pressing urges.

You bring the hem of his shirt to your face and held the material between your teeth. Inhaling his scent, your body comes alive once more.

Urging. Craving. Hungry.

Tentively, you roll your nipples between your fingers with one hand and your needy, swollen clit is rubbed with the other.

You keep your moans and whimpers as quiet as you can, but your pussy has other ideas. So engrossed with satisfying your growing and insistent lust, that you don’t notice the front door unlock.

You also don’t notice the front door open and closing.

Caleb gets home early, feeling frustrated, an itch he couldn’t ignore. He had been feeling irritable all day, and he figured going home to shower and shamelessly stroke his aching cock to your name would help ease his mood.

Only… when he got home, he tossed his uniform jacket and hat on the arm of the couch then stilled.

Someone was in his home. He checked his bedroom and noticed that the thing he’d left for you, bought for you had been moved. Used.

Snatching off his shirt and kicking off his boots so that only his pants remained. He hastily pulled open the belt and opened the zipper of his pants.

He calls your name.

When there’s no response, he decides to hunt for you. His hunger for you growing with every step.

He yearned to taste you, to have his face nestled between your velvety thighs like soft, fleshy pillows.

He called your name again, and again there was no answer.

Had she come to take a shower then left again? he wondered for only a second. Then saw your pile of clothes that you had worn there in the hamper. So, she was either naked somewhere in the loft or she had worn my clothes to go out.

Either possibility made him impossibly harder. The thought of you wearing his clothes, his scent on your skin set off a primal hunger he had been trying to keep buried. His throat went dry and his thoughts grew muddy.

It became a need to find you.

His steps became more desperate as he nearly passed the guest room. Immediately noticing the irregularity of the door being closed.

He went to twist the knob. Locked. And his mind went absolutely feral but his demeanor didn’t change.

“Princess?” he said, and there was a sound.

He didn’t know what the sound came from, but now he knew for sure you were in the room. Could smell strawberries through the door.

Then he heard it. The sweetest, neediest moan he’d ever heard you make.

What were you doing? His mind pressed with the desperate need to get to you. To see why you would be making that sound, and why it wasn’t because of him.

“Princess, what are you doing in there?” he asked, his voice breathless from restraint, using his Evol to unlock the door.

He was, however, not prepared for the sight that lay before him. His knees nearly gave out.

You. In his shirt. Pleasuring yourself. Two fingers, knuckles deep in your pussy. Eyes closed, consumed by your own need and pleasure, unaware of anything happening around you.

The sounds. Gods. The sounds your pussy was making. It made him hungry. Hungrier than he had grown trying to take things slow with you.

But it seemed… slow hadn’t been doing either of you any favors.

Slowly, so that he doesn’t startle you, he padded barefoot to the bed. Ever so softly did he touch your thigh.

His voice was thick with need. Barely restrained self control. “Princess, is that… my grey shirt?”

Your thigh muscles tensed at the light touch, then relaxed. Your eyes snapping open. Pupils blown and cloudy with lust. And when he asked the question, you answer with a whining, “Yes.”

He almost moaned like a fucking hormonal teenager but managed not to make a sound.

That tone. That whine nearly caused his self control to splinter into nothing. He leaned between your thighs, gently running his nose along the inner part of it. Inhaling the scent of you. Strawberries

His voice was rough, soft and raspy, almost like a growl, “Do you… need help, little bird?”

“Yes,” came your reply, still as needy as before, the hand on your nipple fell away, reaching for him.

And that was all the permission he needed. With his stomach pressed into the bed, he moved his face closer to the heaven between your thighs.

You were so wet. And you smelled so good. It made him dizzy. But he moved slowly.

He wrapped his fingers around your generous hips, thumbs rubbing into your skin before he pressed into it, pulling you closer to him, slowly pulling your fingers away.

Your calves settled on his shoulders and he swallowed, barely able to control himself. But he needed to. Didn’t want to scare you. Didn’t want you to recede back into your reserved shell.

Not when this is the result of what happens when you let your desires take hold of you.

“How long.. had you been waiting for me, princess?” he rasps, gentle. Encouraging.

“I.. got here midday..” you admit, melting under the darkening galaxy of his purple and dusty pink gaze.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, peppering the inside of your thigh with gentle kisses.

“I.. wanted to.. surprise you..” a raspy pant.

“For this?” he smirked, chuckling. It was to cover up the pathetic moan that almost escaped his lips.

“N-no. But then.. I smelled your shirt.. and I don’t know what came over me,” you admit, “But my fingers aren’t enough anymore.”

Caleb freezes. Doesn’t breathe.

“Please… I need you,” you whimper.

And the control he had held back snapped like a rubber band. It called forth the hunger that had burned within him that had grown progressively more intense.

But in your lustful state, you didn’t see it. The way the look in his eyes changed, the way his muscles tensed and moved beneath the skin on his back.

He rubbed his nose against your clit like he was trying to coat his face with your slick, you squeak from the sensation. And with a rumble in his chest, he takes a long and slow swipe of his tongue to your dripping cunt.

He moaned… fucking whimpered at the taste of you.

Then… he’s devouring you like you were a gift he’d received in the desert. An Oasis to his dry tongue and parched throat.

Fingers pressing deeper into your skin, pressing into the underside of your thighs. He pulls you tighter against his face.

Oxygen the least important thing to him at the moment.

He worshipped your pussy like it was a drugging need. Shameless. Loud. He licked and sucked, moaning against your wet folds.

And you whined, mewling at the attention his ravenous mouth slaked on you. He changed his speed, his angle on you, desperate to pull more of those cute sounds from you.

Deliberate now, he made you climax five times on his tongue before pulling away. Only for a few seconds.

Not bothering to push his pants all the way down, he simply pulls his throbbing cock from his pants.

Enthralled by your trembling body, he returned between your thighs. His fingers hooked under your knees, pushing them back toward you.

He places his hard length over your folds, moving slowly. He moaned as your weeping cunt wets the underside of his cock.

You press your fingers into his lower torso, whimpering.

Overstimulated. But still oh so wet and needy. Trembling.

He groans, gently grasping those fingers and bringing them up to his lips, placing gentle fervent kisses on your fingertips.

“Shh… it’s okay, princess, I’ve got you,” he whispers, moving over your glistening lips, wetting his cock further with your slick.

“Caleb,” you pant, voice calling his name, exhausted from the rapid fire, consecutive orgasms he had wrung from you earlier.

But he hadn’t had enough you. Never. He was just getting started.

“Hm? What is it, baby?” he practically croons, almost teasing.

“I can’t…” you start.

But you don’t get the chance to finish. He slowly, oh so slowly, pushes inside you. Eyes fluttering shut as a guttural groan leaves his lips, head falling back.

You groan just as he does, blending into one voice, one sound.

“You… feel so good,” he moans, leaning down to whisper in your ear, arms wrapping around your shoulders.

Your fingers dig into his lower back, legs tightening around his waist.

He lets out a breathless laugh. “You’re squeezing me so tightly like you’re… fuck.. afraid I’ll leave. I’m not.. (shaky gasp) going anywhere, baby.”

“Caleb..” you whine, arching.

"Shh…” his teeth nip your neck, gently sinking into the skin, “I’ve got you.”

His pace is slow, like he’s savoring the feeling of you, pulling one arm away from your neck to slowly trail up and down your thigh. His nail gently raking your skin, a shiver traveling through your body.

He gives your neck a lick and a claiming bite and your legs tighten around him, another orgasm tearing through you viscously. Unforgiving

He hisses, holding back his own, voice breathless, “Fuck, baby…” He doesn’t wait for your orgasm to pass, he continues to slide in and out of your quivering walls. Slowly. Deliberately.

It’s maddening pace but you’re drunk on the pleasure of it. The squelching and the feeling of absolute euphoria consume you, the sounds an echo through the bedroom.

“I… missed you…” you blurt out, a keening whisper.

Caleb stops, pulling back to look at your face. But the pout on your lips begs him not to stop. So he doesn’t.

“Oh?” he questions, breathless, arching a brow, his eyes glued to where your bodies met.

“Y-yes,” you reply with a broken whine, “I had… been trying to keep my distance… so that I didn’t seem …needy or clingy. Monopolizing your time.”

A ghost of a smile on his lips, “Princess, I would’ve loved for you to do that… to want to spend your time with me. Wanting me… I thought… we were taking it slow, because… you needed time to adjust.”

“No… I wanted… wanted,” another moan rips through you,

Cutting through what you were going to say.

“Baby.. you’re so sensitive right now. Is it because we haven’t… or is it… something else?” he groans as if he doesn’t know.

Like he doesn’t track your period or track how many times you’re eating a day. Like he doesn’t check what you eat and monitor how it affects your body.

But you know he does. You’re just not sure if he knows you know. But fine.. you’d play along. It was more fun anyway. Watching his reactions when you said out-of-pocket things and brushing them off as if they were nothing.

But there would be no brushing this off. Not when he was dick deep in your pussy. Evidence of your increased arousal both auditory and visual.

“I… think… I’m ovulating,” you admit, watching his face with droopy eyes.

So many orgasms, your body trembling, but it was evident that you needed more. More… something.

You watch his face shift, feel his body tremble. A hard tremor racing through him.

Ovulating? Yeah, he fucking knew. If the tracking app didn’t tell him, he would’ve known regardless. Could tell by the way you smell that you were ovulating. You had always smelled sweet. But during your cycle where you were ovulating, you smelled like forbidden fruit. Delectable.

You had kept your distance during those months, but he wondered what had changed.

And as much as it killed him, he asked, “Do you want me to stop?”

Faster than you’d registered in your mind, your body moved. Your fingers wrapping tightly around the base of his cock. Stilling him with the rest of his length buried inside you.

“If you pull out, I swear I will drive a knife deep into your abdomen,” you threaten, hardly recognizing your own voice.

He gasps, gaze locked with yours. Not by fear but by intense lust. A violent tremor traveled through him at your threat.

It had aroused him so intensely that he was mere seconds from plunging as deep as he could go and coating your drenched walls with every drop of his load and still going back for a second one.

He grunted with the effort of holding back.

“G-got it. I… (pant) got it, princess. I’m not going to stop… but if you… don’t let go… (whisper) I’m gonna cum,” his voice is strained, raspy. He’s holding out, but not for much long.

That whimper is what seals it. Emboldening you. Like a whisper or gentle stroke of fingers in your thoughts, you want him to. Want him inside, consequences be damned.

And you’re not sure if it’s because of the sound he made or because you had voiced your suspicion, making it real.

Were you ovulating? Or had the lack of sex made you absolutely feral and uninhibited.

Whatever the cause. Whatever the reason, a decision was made. And it wasn’t the one you would’ve normally made.

“You need to cum, hm?” your voice raspy, almost purring as your fingers loosened their grip on Caleb’s cock and slowly traveled to grasp the velvety sac of his balls, rubbing, gently caressing.

“Go on. Cum for me, Colonel,” you whispered, smirking, holding his gaze. Relishing in watching his eyes widen in shock.

Then he grunted, “P-princess.. don’t.. please.”

He trembled again. There was that whimper again.

“My sexy Colonel. Cum for me. Cum inside me. Your princess commands it,” you whisper, a slow drawl, heat thick in your voice and in your darkened eyes.

He wasn’t sure what had changed. What had caused the change. But whatever it was, was his undoing. His body trembled and with the sexiest whimper you’d heard him make, he came. Deep. Muscles tightening.

His hips doing little jerks as he released every drop of his seed into your waiting cunt, coating your molten and shivering walls thickly.

And it felt so good.

But it wasn’t enough.

Before he had a chance to recover, you pulled him to you and rolled you both over. You now straddling his waist, his cock so deliciously deep. A snug fit.

That was more like it.

“B-baby, w-wait..” but you couldn’t. Between his broken whimper, his begging, and the burning need in your veins. You were lost. Consumed.

You rolled your hips once, testing the new angle.

You had never been on top before. It felt good. Made you feel powerful. Desired.

He gasped beneath you, moaning, his fingers digging into your hips. Whether to pull you closer or push you away, you weren’t sure. But you didn’t really care. A need, all consuming and hot welled up inside you and you obeyed it. Mindless.

He groaned hoarsely as you began a slow teasing rhythm of rocking your hips, he was overstimulated. But this was long overdue, and you would apologize later.

Maybe.

“B-baby…” he whimpered again, gasping, groaning, fingers digging as his hips thrust upward into you.

Through the foggy haze, you heard his voice and you slow blink, looking down at him.

“Hm?” you croon.

“I’m… I need…” he was panting, breathless.

You brace your hands on his chest, lifting up slowly and rocking back down just as slow. You don’t slow down. You listen as he moans, gasping, struggling to breathe.

The sight, the sound is beyond delicious.

“Come on, baby, tell me. What do you need,” you smirk, enjoying the reverse of your roles.

You could get used to this. But with your shyness always at the forefront. You doubted there would ever be a chance like this again.

You lean down, your lips trailing slowly along his jaw. His throat. You inhaled the scent of his skin as you went, and your lust flared hotter. Burned brighter.

Your teeth caught the lobe of his ear and nipped it, your lips placing a teasing but gentle kiss just below his ear just before whispering, “Tell momma what you need.”

And suddenly he found his strength, pulling from your for a mere second before you found yourself laying on your side, facing the window.

And a full view mounted mirror.

But you hardly notice. Giggling, “Aww, what’s wrong, baby? Did I say something that got you all wet behind the ears?”

There’s a teasing lilt in your tone. You knew what you were doing. And you enjoyed watching him react.

Just as quickly as he had flipped you to your side, he was behind you, gripping your thigh. He lifted it high, his own thigh bent behind your other one flat on the bed. Tracing. Caging. Preparation for more to come.

“Oh, something is wet alright. I wanted to be gentle, princess. To savor this for us both. But it seems… based on your behavior, you don’t want gentle, do you?” his voice takes a dark edge.

And you were sopping wet from it.

He lifts your leg, suspended in the air, you are defenseless. Unable to do anything. Subjected to whatever course of action he wanted to take.

His own hips roll, his cock snapping into you once more.

Crabbing your chin firmly with his hand, his chest pressed to your back, his fingers skittered along your skin. Wrapped gently and firmly over your throat, a possessive touch. Claiming.

Then his lips were on the back of your neck, teasing. Tasting.

“I got something I think we both will enjoy. Look around the room, princess. Let me know if you find it,” he whispers against your skin. A purr. A promise.

“But…” You start.

“Use your eyes, princess. I know you’ve got good eyes. You may have already seen it. And didn’t realize you did,” he hummed, lips still kissing the back of your neck. His hips still plunging deep and slow into your greedy wetness. The sounds mind-numbing, adding to the pleasure.

It was becoming hard to focus again.

“Come on, my pretty bird. Use those beautiful eyes and tell me what you see,” he rasps, voice breathy in your ear.

So with effort, you open your eyes, trying to look around. You gasp and moan as he continues the slow deliberate pace of his hips. Your cunt still squishy and messy, coated with his cum from earlier. Slick. Slippery. Sopping wet.

You look around the room, trying to find what he’s talking about. Then you find it.

The mirror.

How had he managed to find that size? And how had he been able to mount it on the wall? It was large, angled from a direction where anyone from the bed could see their reflection. And at this angle, you could see everything.

Your core clenched tightly in response.

Caleb hissed at the new sensation. “Damn. You’re still so wet and tight.” Then he smirks, “Looks like you found it. Given how you clamped down on me, I guess you like it, hm?”

You groan, head falling back against again, ready to fall apart again. You whine, feeling the familiar pressure of another orgasm mounting impossibly fast.

“Shh. Don't look away, beautiful. Eyes on your reflection,” he hushes gently, he takes his handholding your thigh moves to your hand, grasping it.Then guides your hand to where his had been.

His now free hand loops to the front, snaking around your waist, trailing down between your thighs. His middle finger rubs lazy circles on your swollen clit, voice still soft and low, “Let go, baby. As many times as you need to. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

“But what about you?” you ask, voice breathless and raspy.

“If you are ovulating as you say, I probably should’ve put on a condom,” he whispers back, lazy circles on your clit, driving you near to madness.

“I don’t care.” you gasp.

“Baby…” he grits out, “You don’t know…”

“I do and I don’t care. Fuck me. Cum inside me. Breed me. I don’t care. I just need you inside me. All of you. Every drop. However you’ll give it to me.” you gasp, desperate, burning.

He groans, whimpering, “Fuck, princess. Okay, if that’s what you want.”

And his pace changes. Hard. Deep. Unrelenting. His new pace sets fire to your body, and before you realize it, you’re at the edge of another orgasm. Then you’re falling.

You cry out your release. Your body stiffening, trembling. Burning. Stars bursting.

But he doesn’t let up, doesn’t slow down. He keeps going, plundering your quivering and spasming cunt like a man on a mission.

“There you go. That’s my pretty girl. Look at you. Falling apart so good for me. This pretty pussy, so needy isn’t she?” he coos, teeth grazing your neck as he keeps plunging repeatedly in and out of your hot, squelching walls.

His praises spark something else, awaken something else. A pressure. A coil you didn’t recognize mounting your orgasm before the previous climax ended, snapping harshly.

His release catches up with him soon after with a whining, chanting, whimper, “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Baby…fuuuck.”

And suddenly, you’re falling again. This time with a scream. This time with a gush. A flooding wetness coating your thighs and his. Your body trembles harder than it’s ever has. Your pussy clamps down so tightly, Caleb lets out a choked sob.

With a final thrust, he stills, cumming inside your waiting cunt, plugging your cervix, filling your womb to the brim and then some.

His hips do a few little jerks, giving him time to breathe. Then he slowly pulls out before slamming back inside.

“I hope you got some more left in you. Because you’ve started something and you better see it to the end,” he says, pulling out slowly then snapping forward once more.

New pace now, fast and searching, as he peppers kisses on the back of your shoulder.

“Let’s see how far I can stretch this pretty pussy. And if I can put a baby in you. Don’t go to sleep on me, baby. We’re not done yet. I wanna hear you scream as many times as I make you cum.” His voice dark with promise then it dips to a whisper, “Soar for me, my pretty bird. Sing for me.”

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Dividen: @cafekitsune Caleb banner: yours truly.

[drowsyapple]

Where the Sun Meets the Sky

Pairing: Caleb x Non!mc reader

Tags: University AU, tall/POC!reader, fratboy!Caleb, friends to lovers

Synopsis: After a crushing loss, your ride-or-die Caleb shows up with snacks, stats help, and way too much info about your life. Now he's making you go to his frat formal. Is he just being your overprotective childhood friend... or is there something he's not telling you?

(Yes. The answer is yes.)

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: This chapter is pretty tame, but there are hints of protective/possessive behavior, mild stalking vibes, and academic stress

Author's Note: I'm not a writer, I just like to write :) the reader is a taller tomboy girly who loves basketball and hates stats class... I plan on making this a multi-chapter fic (might already have the next chapter mostly done) so let me know if y'all want more :D enjoy!

Tag List: @rcvcgers @seasal-t

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The gymnasium was a cacophony of sound—squeaking sneakers, the rhythmic bounce of basketballs, and the occasional shout from Coach Jenna. The chill of the fall air seeped through the cracks in the old building, making you shiver as you wiped sweat from your brow. Your dark brown curls, most of it slicked back into your signature ponytail, clung to your forehead in damp tendrils, a few rebellious strands escaping to frame your freckled face. Your hazel eyes, sharp with focus, scanned the court as you sprinted down the hardwood, your 5’10” frame moving with the kind of fluid precision that came from years of training.

The Linkon University basketball jersey, number 25, hung loosely over your athletic build, the fabric darkened with sweat. Your skin, kissed with melanin, glistened under the harsh gym lights, and the faint dusting of freckles across your nose and cheeks gave you a youthful, determined look. The sound of your sneakers squeaking against the floor echoed as you pivoted, your ponytail swinging behind you, as you gave it your all on the court.

“Hustle, ladies! This isn’t a tea party!” Coach Jenna barked, her voice cutting through the noise. She stood on the sidelines, her clipboard clutched tightly in one hand, her sharp eyes missing nothing. 

Your teammate, Simone, shot you a grin as you ran side by side, her dark braids swinging with each stride. The squeak of sneakers against the polished hardwood floor echoed through the gym, blending with the sharp whistle of Coach Jenna. “Coach is on one today,” Simone panted. 

“When is she not?” you shot back, your voice strained but laced with humor. You dodged around a cone, your legs burning as you pushed through the drill. The chill of the air made your breath visible in short, quick puffs. 

The scrimmage against Skyhaven University had ended with a narrow loss, the opposing team’s star center sinking a buzzer-beater three-pointer that left your team groaning in frustration. As punishment for the loss, your coach had you doing line drills for each point difference and shot missed. Your muscles screamed with every sprint, every pivot, every jump, but you pushed through, determined to not fall behind your team. 

After what felt like an eternity, you slumped onto the bench, your chest heaving as you chugged from your water bottle. The cool liquid was a relief, but it did little to ease the ache settling into your muscles, a familiar reminder of the grind. Simone settled down next to you, her face flushed and her two french braids damp with sweat. She quickly gathered her things, her movements efficient despite her fatigue. You wondered how she still had the energy to move so fast.

“I’m heading back to the bus first,” she said, slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder before glancing over. “Do you want me to save you a seat?” 

Simone was your best friend on the basketball team, and as fellow freshmen, you’d formed a bond that went beyond the court. She was the first person to welcome you to the team, and her relentless optimism and dry sense of humor had gotten you through more than one grueling practice. You appreciated the camaraderie between you two and the unspoken understanding that you were both doing all you could to climb the team’s ladder. 

“Yeah, that’d be great,” you said between breaths and sips of water. “See you in a bit.” 

Simone nodded. “Don’t take too long. You know how Coach gets if we’re late.” 

You watched as she walked away, her braids swaying with each step. The gym was quieter now, the rest of the team already heading to the bus or packing up their gear. You took a moment to catch your breath, your eyes scanning the empty court. The polished floor reflected the overhead lights, and the faint scent of sweat and sports drinks lingered in the air. 

As you sat there, the weight of the loss settled over you. It wasn’t just the score, it was the missed opportunities, the shots you could’ve made, the passes you could’ve intercepted. You clenched your fists, the frustration bubbling up, but you pushed it down. There’d be time to analyze the game later, to figure out what went wrong and how to fix it. For now, you just needed to get through the ride back to campus and the inevitable scolding from Coach. 

As the team continued to file out of the gym in groups of two or three, you lingered behind, taking time to stuff your gear into your duffel bag. Your muscles screamed with every motion you made accompanied by the sound of your growling stomach. The sound of the gym doors on the opposite end of the building creaking open drew your attention, and you glanced up to see Caleb leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a slight smirk playing on his lips. 

Caleb was impossible to miss. At 6’2”, he towered over most people, his broad shoulders and athletic build a testament to his dual life as a star basketball player and an aspiring pilot, currently majoring in aerospace engineering. His dark brown hair was tousled, falling slightly into his striking purple eyes, which gleamed with amusement under the fluorescent lights. He was dressed casually in a black hoodie and jeans, his orange and black flying jacket slung over one arm. The jacket was worn but well-loved, a fond memory from his high school days, and it suited him perfectly. 

“Tough loss, pips,” he said, his voice warm but teasing. 

You rolled your eyes, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you stood up, ignoring your protesting knees. “Don’t remind me. What are you doing here, anyway? I remember telling you I was riding back with the team.” 

Caleb pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside, his boots clicking against the floor as he walked to meet you halfway. “I already talked to Coach. Told her I’d give you a ride.” He said shooting a quick wave to your Coach, and she, distracted by the notes on her clipboard, returned the gesture. Since when did they get so close?

You groaned at that, dragging a hand down your sweaty face. “Caleb, I don’t need a babysitter. I’m perfectly capable of taking the bus.” 

“And miss the chance to spend quality time with your favorite person? Not a chance,” he said, his smirk widening. He reached out and ruffled your damp hair, earning a swat from you. 

You muttered under your breath while slipping on your favorite hoodie, and followed him out to the parking lot where his beat-up pickup truck waited. The truck was a relic from high school. You and Caleb had found it abandoned in the neighborhood junkyard, its red paint faded and speckled with rust, but Caleb said it had character and fixed it up in no time. The man has always had a way with tools, yet you struggled using something as simple as a toaster. You climbed into the passenger seat, tossing your bag into the back, and noticed a small paper bag on the dashboard and a large Diet Coke waiting for you in one of the cupholders. The cup was filled to the brim with the crunchy, nugget ice you loved. 

“After-game snack,” Caleb said as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Figured you’d be starvin’.” 

You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t hide the smile creeping on your face. “You’re such a dork.” He always knew exactly what you needed, even without asking.

“Your dork,” he corrected while starting the engine, which earned a snort from you. The truck rumbled to life, and you two pulled out of the parking lot. 

As your childhood best friend drove, you leaned back in your seat, sipping your drink and nibbling on the peanut butter protein bar that was in the paper bag. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with him. You talked about the scrimmage, taking this chance to vent about the missed shots and the opposing team’s star player. 

“You’ll get ‘em next time,” Caleb said, his tone encouraging. “You’re a shoo-in for a starter spot next year. Hell, you might even be captain one day, just like me.” 

You snorted. “Don’t let it go to your head, Mr. Valedictorian.” 

Caleb’s expression softened. “Please let that go,” he chuckled. “High school was ages ago, and I’m already a Junior. Seriously, though. You’re killin’ it out there. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself, okay?” 

As you opened your mouth to respond, your phone buzzed, interrupting the moment. You pull it out of your pocket to see a text from your roommate, 

Tara: Have you seen the back of my earring??? I’ve looked everywhere!

You sighed, typing out a quick reply of nope before tossing your phone onto the dashboard. “Roommate again,” you muttered. 

Caleb glanced at you briefly, his brow furrowing slightly. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, just… Tara’s a mess. I swear, I spend more time cleaning up after her than I do studying.” 

Caleb’s jaw tightened a bit, but he didn’t press. Instead, he changed the subject. “You wanna come over for dinner? I made your favorite.” 

You hesitated, the idea tempting. “I really should study. My stats class is kicking my ass, and if I don’t pull my grade up, I’m gonna lose my scholarship.” 

Caleb drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking. “How about this? You come over, we eat, and I’ll help you with your stats homework. I TA’d for Professor Lucius last year, so I know his style.” 

You opened your mouth to refuse, but Caleb flashed you his signature puppy-dog look. Wide eyes, slightly pouted lips, the whole nine yards. You groaned, throwing your hands up in defeat. “Fine… but only because I’m starving.” 

Caleb’s triumphant grin was almost too much to bear. Suddenly, a thought flickered in the back of your mind. 

Did you ever tell Caleb you had Professor Lucius this semester? 

The cold sweat of the cup bit into your palm as you searched your memory. No, you definitely hadn't told him. Between basketball drills and Tara's latest crisis, you'd barely registered the mid-semester professor switch yourself until the first confusing lecture. Yet Caleb had said Lucius' name like it was common knowledge, the same way he always seemed to know your schedule before you did, your coffee order before you spoke it, and when you'd need him before you knew you needed him yourself.

The realization prickled at you—you’d never told Caleb about Professor Lucius. Struggles with statistics, yes, but not who taught it. Not when six other instructors were teaching it this semester. Yet he’d known. Like he always knew.

Still, it wasn’t like Caleb to get details wrong. He was meticulous, almost annoyingly so. Always remembering the smallest things about your schedule, your preferences, and your life.  

You shook your head, brushing the thought aside. 

It’s nothing. Probably just said it in passing and forgot. 

You removed the lid of your cup and took a long sip of your drink, the satisfying crunch of the nugget ice between your teeth pulling you back to the present. The familiar sensation was comforting.

You glanced outside the truck window, the campus of Linkon University beginning to roll by in a blur of autumn colors. The trees lining the pathways were ablaze with gold and crimson, their leaves fluttering to the ground in the crisp fall breeze contrasting the setting sun. Students bundled in scarves and jackets hurried to and from classes, their laughter and chatter faintly carrying through the glass. The clock tower loomed in the distance, its hands inching toward evening, and the faint scent of woodsmoke from a nearby bonfire drifted through the air. 

You leaned your head against the cool window, letting the rhythm of the road and the hum of the truck’s engine lull you into a sense of calm. Caleb’s playlist, a mix of classic rock and indie tracks he’d curated over the years, played softly in the background. He was humming along under his breath, his fingers tapping the steering wheel in time with the beat. 

You tore your eyes away from the passing scenery and glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. His profile was sharp against the fading light, his jawline strong and his amethyst eyes focused on the road. There was a quiet intensity about him, a steadiness that had always been there, even when you were kids. He was the kind of person who made you feel safe, even when you didn’t want to admit you needed it. 

But there was something else there too, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. A tension in the way he held himself, a flicker of something in his eyes when he thought you weren’t looking. You’d noticed it more and more lately ever since you started college, though you couldn’t explain why. 

“You okay over there?” Caleb’s voice broke through your thoughts, his tone light but with an undercurrent of concern. 

You blinked, pulling yourself back to the present. “Yeah, just…thinking.” 

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “Dangerous habit.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Says the guy who overthinks everything.” 

Caleb laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Guilty as charged.” 

The conversation lulled again, but the silence between you was comfortable, simple. You turned your attention back to the window, watching as the campus gave way to the quieter streets of the neighboring residential neighborhood. The houses here were old but charming, their porches decorated with pumpkins and fairy lights. A group of kids played in a leaf pile on the sidewalk, their laughter ringing out like chiming bells. 

You took another sip of your drink, the ice clinking softly against the sides of the cup. The thought from earlier nagged at you again, but you pushed it aside. 

It’s Caleb. He probably just heard it from someone else. 

You always have been the forgetful type, forgetting even your birthday one year.

Still, as the truck pulled up to his apartment building, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that. But for now, you decided to let it go. There were more pressing things to worry about, like surviving stats class and figuring out how to deal with Tara’s latest disaster. 

🍎🍎🍎

Caleb’s studio apartment was small but cozy, a reflection of his no-frills personality. The brick accent wall gave the space a rustic charm, its rough texture softened by the warm glow of a single floor lamp. The room was dominated by a worn leather couch, its cushions dented from years of use from its previous owner, and a slightly cluttered coffee table stacked with textbooks, a half-empty coffee mug, and a pair of aviator sunglasses. A small kitchenette sat in the corner, its countertops surprisingly tidy except for a single pan soaking in the sink. 

Photos of you and Caleb lined the walls, a timeline of your shared history. There was the one from your 12th birthday, where he’d surprised you with a basketball cake and a goofy party hat. Another from last year’s New Year’s Eve, the two of you bundled up in scarves, your cheeks flushed from the cold and the sparklers in your hands leaving trails of light in the dark. New Year’s Eve had always been yours—the two of you pressed shoulder-to-shoulder in a crowd or curled on a couch, watching the clock tick toward midnight with the same quiet certainty as the years turning over. No matter what chaos the year had brought, that moment always belonged to you both.

And then the candid shots, Caleb ruffling your hair after a game in middle school, you laughing as he tried to teach you how to cook (and failed miserably). Then there was a photo of you two during your high school graduation just half a year ago; you were clutching your diploma, and Caleb’s arm hung loosely over your shoulders, smiling bright. Each photo was a snapshot of a moment frozen in time, a reminder of how intertwined your lives had always been. And behind each photo was your adoptive grandmother, Josephine, always eager to capture the moments of her kids with her clunky camera.

You walked in and turned to the used couch. A deep red throw blanket was draped over its back, the vibrant hue a stark contrast to the muted grays and browns of the room. You flop down after dropping your bags to the side of the couch, stretching out horizontally and scrolling through your phone, your feet hanging over the edge. The leather creaked under your weight, and the faint scent of Caleb’s cologne, something woodsy and warm, lingered in the air. 

Caleb disappeared into the kitchen, humming along to the classic rock playlist he’d put on. The opening chords of a familiar song filled the room, Over the Hills and Far Away by Led Zeppelin, and you couldn’t help but smile. It was one of his favorites, a track he’d played on repeat during road trips back in high school. 

“Seriously, Caleb,” you called out, raising your voice over the music, “how do you still listen to this stuff? It’s so old.” 

“It’s timeless,” he shot back, his voice carrying over the sizzle of the stove and the hum of the microwave. “You’ll appreciate it when you’re older.” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “If you say so.” 

You set your phone down on the coffee table and headed to the bathroom, leaving it behind. When you returned, Caleb was setting two plates of braised chicken wings on the table along with two cups of microwavable instant rice. The rich, savory aroma made your stomach growl, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of gratitude. He’d remembered your favorite dish, just like he always did. 

As you ate, the conversation flowed effortlessly, shifting from sports to classes to Caleb’s latest escapades with his frat brothers. He leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he launched into the story. “So, last weekend, we decided to build a homemade drone,” he began, his eyes lighting up with the kind of energy that always came with his wilder ideas. “You know, just a little weekend project. What could go wrong, right?”

You raised an eyebrow, already sensing where this was going. “Famous last words, Caleb. What happened?” You asked as you took another bite of your favorite dish, a slight note of ginger hitting the back of your throat.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, we got it all put together, or at least, we thought we did. But when we fired it up, the thing shot straight into the air, spun in a circle, and then nosedived right into the grill!” He exclaimed waving his hands around. “Next thing we know, the propane tank’s hissin’, and the backyard’s basically a fire hazard.”

You burst out laughing, nearly choking on your food. “You’re kidding me! Did you at least get it on video?”

“Oh, we got it on video,” he said, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his camera roll. He handed it to you, and you watched as the drone spiraled out of control, followed by a chorus of panicked shouts and the unmistakable sound of something catching fire. You were laughing so hard your sides hurt, and Caleb joined in, his laugh filling the room.

“I can’t believe you guys didn’t get kicked out of the house,” you said, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Oh, we almost did,” he admitted, still grinning. “But, you know, we cleaned it up. Mostly. And no one got hurt, so… win?”

“Barely,” you teased, shaking your head. “You’re lucky you’re still alive.”

The lighthearted banter continued, the tension from the scrimmage slowly melting away. It was easy, comfortable, the way it always was with Caleb. He had a way of making everything feel less serious, less overwhelming. For a little while, you forgot about the game, about the pressure, about everything except the sound of his laughter and the warmth of the moment.

But once you cleared your plate and pulled out your stats homework, the mood shifted as reality sank in once again. You groaned, staring at the equations like they were written in another language. The numbers and symbols blurred together, and you felt that familiar knot of frustration tightening in your chest.

Caleb noticed immediately, his grin fading as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone softer now.

“It’s this stupid stats homework,” you muttered, shoving the paper away from you. “I don’t get it. None of it makes sense. I’ve been staring at it for hours these past couple of days, and it’s like my brain just shuts down. Why do I need to know this? I’m a basketball player, not a mathematician.” 

Caleb chuckled, leaning over to look at your notes. His arm brushed against yours, and you caught a whiff of his cologne again, distracting you slightly. He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “You’re overthinkin’ it,” he said simply with a small smile.

“Easy for you to say,” you retorted. “You’re, like, a wannabe math genius or something.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head. “I’m no genius. I just don’t freak out about it like you do.” He reached over, pulling the paper toward him and scanning the problems. “Okay, look. This one’s not that bad. You’re just makin’ it harder than it needs to be.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, well, that’s my specialty.”

He smirked, glancing up at you. “True. But lucky for you, you’ve got me.” He grabbed the pen you were holding and started scribbling notes in the margins, explaining each step in a way that actually made sense. You watched him, the frustration slowly easing as his calm, steady voice broke through the mental block you’d been hitting.

“See?” he said after a few minutes, sliding the paper and pen back to you. “Not so bad, right?”

You looked down at the page, the numbers suddenly less intimidating. “Okay, maybe you’re a little bit of a genius,” you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you said, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Thanks, though. Seriously.”

“Anytime,” he said, his tone light but sincere. “You know I’ve got your back.”

And you did know. That was the thing about Caleb. No matter how chaotic or ridiculous things got, he always had a way of making you feel like everything would be okay. Even when the numbers didn’t add up and the world felt like it was spinning too fast, he was there, steady and sure, reminding you that you weren’t alone.

He walked you through a few more of the problems, his voice calm and patient as he explained each step. But your eyes drifted to your phone, which buzzed incessantly with texts from Tara. The screen continuously lit up from where it was placed on the edge table, and you couldn’t resist glancing at it. Huh, did you set it all the way over there before you headed to the bathroom?

“What’s so important?” Caleb asked, interrupting your thought, his tone light but with an edge of curiosity. 

“Nothing,” you said, shoving your phone into your pocket. “Just Tara being Tara.” 

Caleb raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. Instead, he reached over and plucked the phone from your pocket and proceeded to stand as tall as he could, holding it above his head. 

“Hey!” you protested, standing up and reaching for it. But Caleb was a few inches taller, and you couldn’t quite reach. 

“You said you’d focus,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Caleb, give it back!” you demanded, jumping in vain. 

He laughed, but there was a hint of sadness in his expression. “You know, it’s hard to compete with your phone for your attention.” 

You stopped jumping, your frustration melting into a tinge of guilt. The look in his eyes—part amusement, part something deeper—caught you off guard. “I’m sorry,” you groaned with a slight eye roll. “How could I ever make it up to you.” 

Caleb’s smirk returned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh?” 

You hesitated, then sighed, having an idea of where this conversation was headed. “What do you want?” 

Caleb’s eyes lit up, and you knew you’d walked right into his trap. “Come to the frat formal with me. Tomorrow night.” 

You huffed, but there was no way out. This was the grave you dug and now it was time to lie in it. He had been bugging you about his frat’s autumn formal for weeks. “Fine. But you owe me.” 

Caleb’s triumphant grin was worth it, even as you mentally prepared yourself for the chaos of a frat party, grimacing at the thought of dressing in clothes other than your trusty knee-length basketball shorts, hoodies, and sneakers. 

🍎🍎🍎

The ride back to your dorm was short, the silence between you and Caleb comfortable. The truck’s engine hummed softly, and the faint glow of streetlights flickered across Caleb’s face as he drove. His hands rested lightly on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping in time once again with the song playing on the radio. You glanced at him, noting the way his jaw tightened slightly whenever your on-campus dorm came into view. He hated this place, your co-ed dorm, and he didn’t bother hiding it. 

When you arrived, Caleb parked the truck and walked you to the door, his hands stuffed in his pockets. The cool night air nipped at your cheeks, and you pulled the hood of your hoodie tighter around your head. The dorm building loomed ahead, its windows glowing with warm light, and the faint sound of laughter and music spilled out from the common room. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, turning to face him. 

Caleb’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled, that familiar, easy grin that always made your stomach flutter, which you promptly ignored. “Anytime, pipsqueak,” he replied as he placed his hand on your covered head, his voice soft. 

You turned to the entrance while reaching for your key card, swiping it swiftly to unlock the door with a soft click. The sound was barely audible over the hum of the dorm’s hallway, but it felt loud in the quiet space between you and Caleb. You opened the door but held it open with your foot. Pausing, you turned to him with an eyebrow raised. “Y’know, can you quit it with that silly nickname already?” you protested, though there was no real bite to your words. “I’m hardly small, and I could easily destroy you in a 1v1 any day.”

Caleb’s grin widened, that familiar, infuriating smirk that made your stomach do a little flip, which you ignored once again. For a split second, you thought he might say something…something real, something that would explain the way he’d been looking at you all night, like you were the only person in the world. But instead, he just chuckled, reaching out to ruffle your hair under your hoodie like you were still the scrawny kid he’d met all those years ago. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his voice light but with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place. 

You rolled your eyes, brushing his hand away, but the warmth of his touch lingered. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, turning to head inside. 

As the door began to close behind you, you caught a glimpse of him still standing there, his hands back in his pockets and his smile fading. His purple eyes lingered on you, intense and unreadable, and for a moment, it felt like the air between you was charged with something unspoken. But before you could say anything, before you could even process what you were feeling, the windowless door clicked shut, leaving you alone in the dimly lit hallway, the sound of the common room drowning out as it became overpowered by your thoughts. 

You leaned against the door for a moment, your heart racing for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. Caleb was always like this. Teasing, protective, and just a little bit maddening. But tonight, it felt different. Like there was something he wasn’t saying, something he was holding back. 

Shaking your head, you pushed off the door and headed down the hall towards your shared dorm, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the space. Whatever it was, you’d figure it out later. For now, you had a roommate to deal with and a mountain of homework waiting for you. 

🍎🍎🍎

The dorm was a disaster when you walked in. Clothes were strewn across the living room, empty takeout containers littered the coffee table, and a half-finished puzzle sat abandoned on the floor. Tara was kneeling in the middle of the chaos, her dark hair a wild mess as she dug through a pile of laundry. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, dropping your bag by the door. 

Tara looked up, her eyes wide with desperation. “What took you so long?! I still can’t find the back of my earring! Please help!” 

You sighed but knelt down to help, shoving aside a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt that definitely wasn’t either of yours. Tara had always been like this, chaotic, scatterbrained, but endearing. You’d met her during orientation, when she’d accidentally spilled her iced coffee all over your shoes and then insisted on buying you a new pair. You’d been inseparable ever since, even if her messiness drove you up the wall. 

As you searched, Tara began peppering you with questions about your evening. “So, I figure you were with Caleb, huh?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 

“Don’t start,” you warned, but Tara just laughed and returned to digging through the pile of clothes in front of her. You continued, “I have to go to that stupid frat formal with him now just as I started to think I was in the clear. As if I don’t have anything better to do than put on a dress and be surrounded by drunks. Coach doesn’t even let us drink! What the hell am I supposed to do all night sober?” 

“Oh come on. His frat holds, like, the most exclusive party of the year. You’re so lucky!” 

You groaned, shoving a pile of socks aside. “You can take my place if you want.” 

Tara shook her head, her loose curls bouncing. “Nope. I’ve got plans with that guy from my bio class.” You said a small ah under your breath nodding. You never understood Tara’s extensive roster and never bothered asking for specifics. She was with a new guy what seemed like every other week.

You finally spotted the earring back under the coffee table and handed it to Tara, who squealed in delight. 

“You’re the best!” she said, pulling you into a hug before retreating to her room. 

You did the same, tossing your phone onto the bed, and almost like magic, it lit up with a notification from Caleb: 

Sleep well, pips. Don’t let Tara or your floor mates keep you up :) 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. Caleb had always been like this, a protective older brother figure in your life. He hated your co-ed dorm, and he made no secret of it. 

“It’s not safe,” he’d said when you first moved in, his arms crossed and his jaw set. “You should’ve taken the single dorm I found for you.” 

But you’d refused, partly because you didn’t want to feel like you owed him anything and partly because you liked the idea of chaos that came with living on the same floor with a bunch of noisy dudes. It reminded you that you were finally on your own, making your own decisions, even if those decisions drove Caleb a little crazy. 

You threw off your shoes and plopped into bed, still wearing your outside clothes. As you laid there, staring at the ceiling and debating a shower, your thoughts drifted back to him. His teasing smile, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you did. He was infuriating, endearing, and entirely too much. But he was your childhood best friend, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Still, there was a part of you that wondered, what would happen if you let him in completely? If you stopped pretending you didn’t notice the way his gaze lingered on you, or the way his voice softened when he said your name? 

You shook your head, pushing the thought aside. For now, this was enough. 

[futilemillipede]

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥 × 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐒 𝟏𝟖+

[cw: smut, 18+, pwp, piv, fluff, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, fem!reader, chubby!reader, praise kink, creampie, unprotected sex, use of sex toys, overstimulation, rafayel whimpering, overall freaky shit.]

Moonlight spilled into the bedroom from the windows of Rafayel's bedroom, creating a soft yet sensual atmosphere. A familiar cool zephyr stirred the sheer white curtains, casting delicate shadows over your features. Rafayel was hovering over your trembling form, his eyes fixed on your pink-tinted cheeks. The sound of your ragged, shallow breathing filled the air, your hands clutching the silk sheets tightly as you tried to not climax. As if to taunt you more, Rafayel turned the vibrator settings higher, a soft moan leaving your lips as the intense sensation caused a sharp shock of pleasure through your body.

Rafayel's lips curved upwards into a smirk , there was no denying that he enjoyed being the dominant one during sex, even if he preferred it the other way around. "Really, Y/N? We've barely started and look at you..." His words came in a quiet murmur as his gaze travelled down your naked form; your hair splayed out on the pillow, the curves of your body moving slightly with each breath you took, the glistening slickness between your plush thighs, the light pout on your lips... You were everything he ever wanted and more. And Rafayel wanted nothing more than to worship every curve and dip of your body to make sure that you were fully aware of his undying love for you and your being as a whole.

His fingers toyed with the vibrator settings, mesmerized how each little change in the tempo was noticeable in the tiny hitch in your voice and the shallow moans. "F-fuck, Rafayel-" Your words came out in an almost incomprehensible jumble as your legs trembled with your climax. The evidence of your release gleamed between your inner thighs, dampening the white sheets. Despite the mess you made, Rafayel didn't move an inch, in fact, he leaned in closer and buried his face on the crook of your neck, planting a plethora of kisses and bites down your shoulder blades while you tried to come down from the ecstasy of your release.

"I didn't say you were allowed to come, honey." He mumbled in faux annoyance. A tired but pleased chuckle left your lips in response which didn't go unheard by Rafayel. He tilted his head back to meet your eyes, a small pout forming on his lips. "What's so funny?" He asked, trying his hardest to remain annoyed but his mind was racing with filthy thoughts on all the things he could do to you. Each fantasy worse than the last.

When you replied with a shrug and a quiet 'nothing.' Rafayel rolled his eyes and swiftly took out the vibrator. Before you could even think of a comeback, Rafayel pulled you on top of him, the action catching you off guard as you were now straddling his hips. The feeling of your full weight on his groin and the wetness seeping onto the bulge of his boxers made Rafayel tightly shut his eyes and take a shuddering breath. God, you drove him insane.

His reaction was enough to fuel your mischief. When you began to grind your wet cunt against the straining bulge, Rafayel let out a low groan, his hands instinctively planting themselves on your hips. His fingers dug into the supple flesh, groping and caressing every inch of your body he could get his hands on. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his gaze emanating a mix of desire and adoration as he watched you move your hips in a tantalising manner. He would've complained more if you didn't look so sinfully angelic while teasing him.

It took every fibre of his being to not rush this but that didn't stop him from subconsciously bucking his hips upwards, desperately seeking for friction. "Honey, please..." He whimpered, looking up at you with a needy, pathetic look. The sight of his petulant expression, mussed up purple hair and flushed cheeks was pushing you to give in to his whining. You playfully rolled your eyes and grinded against his hard cock in an even slower motion, earning another whine of pleasure from him.

"Y-you're killing me here, Y/N..." Rafayel huffed, his large hands moving up to cup your breasts. His thumbs grazed over your hardened nipples, lightly pinching and teasing the bud as if to persuade you to just ride him senseless at this point. "And you're an impatient brat, love." You retorted but any semblance of irritation was quickly gone as you moaned at his touch.

Despite wanting to stretch the moment longer and continue to tease Rafayel, you were also growing impatient and needed to feel him inside you as well. Sensing your desire, Rafayel wasted no time to pull down his boxers and give you full access to his throbbing cock. You were a little stunned at his eagerness but you couldn't complain, you were a slut for him anyway.

"Come on, hon." Rafayel cooed, his hands tightly holding onto your waist, looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes. Your gaze softened and the corners of your lips curved into a smile. Without another word, you sunk down onto his cock, the thickness stretching your slick walls and hitting the deepest parts which the vibrator couldn't reach. You both simultaneously moaned as you both connected, your eyes fluttering shut while you let your body adjust to his girth.

You moved your hips in deliberate circles, eliciting louder moans from Rafayel. His fingers gripped onto your waist as if he was trying to ground himself, to stop himself from immediately finishing and to let you slut him out.

"A-ah~ Y/N... faster." He moaned out in a breathless whisper, his hands guiding you on top of him. "Mhm, anything for you, love." You mused, moving your hips in a fast but steady rhythm. The erotic sound of skin slapping against skin reverberated from the walls, only amplifying the intimacy between the two of you. Your lips crashed down onto his, your back arching beautifully as you continued to ride him while deepening the kiss. Rafayel moaned incoherent compliments in your mouth but the only word he was able to muster up was your name. He mumbled your name over and over again, each syllable rolling off his tongue with ease.

"You're so good for me, love." You purred, your voice full of affection. Your praise only amplified Rafayel's yearning. He moved his hips to sloppily match your pace, pounding into you whilst you buried your face in the crook of his neck, whimpering lightly at the intensity of his thrusts. "Mhm~ Just like that, baby." You subconsciously tightened the walls of your cunt, causing a subtle halt in Rafayel's tempo but he quickly recovered and thrusted harder than before. His large hands were grabbing your ass, occasionally landing a small smack that echoed through the room. His hand would rub the red imprint on your ass, only to smack it again to silently tell you to ride harder and faster.

"R-rafayel... I'm close-" You shakily muttered, your hips almost moving on their own as you drove both of you closer and closer to climax. "M-me too, Y/N. Just a bit more-" His words were cut off by a low groan as he buried his cock deep inside you once more, his thick, warm release pooling inside your cunt and making your vision go fuzzy from pleasure. You came at the same time, both of your releases leaked onto the covers, staining the once clean duvets. Your body collapsed on top of his. For a few minutes, the room was completely silent except for both of your ragged breathing as you tried to come down from the intensity of your orgasm. Rafayel's fingers traced idle patterns on your back, a habit he developed over the course of your relationship.

The silence was comforting and welcomed after tiring yourselves out. "That... That was amazing," Rafayel quietly muttered, almost to himself. He pulled away to look at your flustered face, a smile on his lips as he cupped your cheek with one hand and brushed away a strand of hair stuck to your forehead. "as always." He planted a light kiss on your lips, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"You're one to talk." You teased, tracing your finger over his jawline.

Rafayel knew that you both should probably get up and clean the aftermath of your lovemaking, but he preferred to relish in the quiet, intimate moments like these; simply holding you in his arms and fiddling with your hair as you whispered sweet nothings in his ears. The warmth of your body, your touch, your voice, your presence; all of it was overwhelmingly perfect.

[A/N: never played LADS so forgive me if i mischaracterised Rafayel :-( i had to read the fandom wiki and google pics his bedroom for reference LMFAO anyway, my 2nd fanfic ^o^ ty all for the support ILY MWAH]

tagz:

[chocolate-flavored-rafayel]

You are always...

the same in my eyes.

No matter the lifetime.

[ariyai]

I had to do a part 2

[thatharemlifestyle]

PoC edits

Official Fan Art.

Edited for my personal Delulu as Infold doesn't have any official lads poc commissioned art to date.

Edited by CybillaFräulein

Original artist name on the artwork.

[deepspacedarling]

Xavier girlies! Come get your juice!!

I have been losing my mind editing cards to make the MC black. Here's some for the Xavier girlies. Big thanks to @ariyai for helping me figure it out! Feel free to use these cards however you like!!! Rafayel girlies, I'm coming for you next!!!

[we-rice-boi]

LISTEN!!

I'm begging someone to write the LADs MLs reaction to MC in this outfit!!

On another note her body is teeaaa!! My god!!

Imagine they just catch you during ur morning routine in this or doing some chores or you answer the door in it when they decide to make a surprise visit- OH GURL!!

If I write it, I'm doing it purely for a melanated MC cause I don't see enough of those 😤

[hrhmimieucliffe]

Black/POC MC Edits for Zayne's 4*s

If it won't be done, sometimes you just have to do it yourself ‼️‼️🙋🏾‍♀️

I might use these as stickers for my laptop now

I'll be doing the other guys next, of course but Zayne and Sylus first since they're my faves

Plugging our group again!!

I am planning to sell these edited memories as stickers on my redbubble shop to add to my LADS sticker collection

[whalesongsblog]

🪷 Princess Miradevi and Prince Consort Ominis Surya Lakshmi 🪷

GUYYYYYSSSS I'M FREAKING OUT OMG @heylorrain HAS BLOWN MY MIND AGAIN

the details, the mehendi, her hair accessories, their expressions, her clothes, I'M-!!!!!!! she is so incredibly talented, this is a beautiful work of art, I can't thank her enough and ya'll should go check out her commission info <3

[laddelulu30]

Blind Date Stimulation

A/N: Writing this was exceptionally difficult but I think it came out well. I wrote this for @unintentionalseductress for the “Blind Date Matchmaking”. A thousand apologies, I know I’m a bit late, but I hope you all enjoy the short all the same. I won't bore you with long notes, so I hope you all enjoy…

Your wavy hair is pulled into a ponytail, still somehow curling at the ends. You were dressed in a chiffon A-line summer dress. Lilac. Off the shoulders.

 Looking at your reflection, the lilac looks good against your desi features. But nervous energy still slithers in your veins. 

What if he found you ugly? Not his type? Or worse... a pity date? your thoughts spiraled.

And the more they did, the angrier you got. So what if he didn't? If this date was a failure too, you were determined to simply remain single. In peace with your research and the occasional hiking trip.

Men weren't all the hype anyway.

With one last look, you sigh then leave your condo in Linkon. Walking to a nearby park in tennis shoes that matches your dress and near a body of water, and was lined up with food vendors.

 Couples were already grabbing food and carrying on with their walks. 

Watching them woke a tight pang of longing in your chest, so you decided to look at the setting sun instead. On one hand, you wanted to watch as others interacted with each other and be included. But on the other hand, you enjoyed your peace in seclusion.

You crossed your hands behind your back, then exhaled again, looking down at the ground.

You kicked a pebble, not noticing that someone was approaching you until there was a tap on your shoulder. 

You let out a startled gasp, turning to face the person that tapped you.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you,” says a gentle male voice, followed with a light chuckle. 

Your eyes meet and you falter, frozen as you gaze into his purple eyes littered with stars like an expanding galaxy. 

His eyes widen just as he gets a look at your face,  wonder and awe as he whispers, "Beautiful..." 

Your eyes may have been dark, but with the soft glittering eyeshadow, they were expressive. 

You cough to clear your throat, looking away. Refusing to believe that love at first sight was a thing.

“Sorry, I don't mean to stare,” you say softly, "But you scared me.” 

“That's my fault. My friend, Tara, told me that I could meet my soulmate at the park,” he says with a warm smile. 

Your ears perk at hearing Tara's name. Surely, he must be talking about a different Tara. 

"Um... If I may ask, what else did she tell you ?" you press, trying not to be too nosey.

"She said to look for the prettiest woman here. Ask her if she knew Tara,” he says, his ears turning red at the ends.

“Is that what you were going to ask before I made that horrible squeak?” you ask.

“I was, but your eyes kinda made me forget what I was supposed to ask. Plus, given your reaction, you must know Tara as well. Unless… I just embarrassed myself…” his voice started to fade off into a whisper as he started to feel more and more shy and hesitant. 

"I mean.. what are the odds that we both know a Tara?" you offer, trying to help. 

“Even more if we know the same Tara?” he quipped back.

“She didn't happen to give you a number, did she?” you ask.

“A number?" he echoes. 

"To call. To make sure you got the right person?" 

“Um.. yeah.  Should I call her?”

“You should. Else you've been talking to a complete Stranger instead of the person you're supposed to be on a date with…”

He lets out a sheepish laugh, stepping away to make the call. He's away for a few minutes, and your phone rings.

Tara: You found him?

You: Found who? 

Tara: Your date?

You: Tara?

Tara: Y/N?(She says in mock shock) 

You: What did you do?

Tara: I got you a date. Try it out and if it falls then you can go back to working your butt off. Love you, hun, genuinely hope it works out. Because Simone said you need a man that will blow your back out not ruin your makeup. (the line clicks, ending the call) 

Your face is frozen in shock and the purple eyed hottie comes back. 

“So..she doesn't answer my call. But I’m gonna go out on a limb and say she called you?" He says. 

"Yeah. Love her and Simone to bits but I’m gonna strangle them later."

“And I.. should probably introduce myself, huh?” he says with a light laugh following.

"I should introduce myself too.” you hold your hand out, waiting to shake his. 

"I’m Caleb,” he smiles, grasping your hand firmly. 

His hand is surprisingly soft and calloused. And he smells good. Like spiced apples. Crisp.

Damn Simone and Tara. Where'd they'd even find this guy? He's totally your type.

“I'm Y/N.”  you reply with an answering smile. 

After a moment, you're both still shaking hands. 

“Your hands are soft,” he comments first.

“Yours too, and slightly calloused,” you reply with a laugh.

You both pull away.

“I hope I wasn't too late," he laughs. 

“No, not at all. I came early to look around,” you reply.

“Hungry? We can check out one of these vendors near the water,” he offers.

 “Sure. I’ve never seen these vendors before. But that could be because I mostly work and order take out," you reply. 

“Take-out? Geez. You're missing out on the benefits of a home cooked meal. But these vendors are pretty good. Which one do you want to try?” he says. 

Even his voice is warm and inviting. 

“Well, I’m sure you've tried them. Which one is your favorite?” you ask.

“Hmm? You see that one that has hanging bulbs that look almost like Christmas lights?” he leans in, pointing to the vendor he described.

“Yeah?” you say. 

"Believe it or not, that vendor has the best braised pork belly around and it's affordable.”

"Then let's try it,” you smile, curious as your stomach grows in agreement. 

Caleb pays for the food and you two spend the rest of the evening talking. You and Caleb talk about anything and everything.

And the more you two talk, the more attractive he looks to you.

Time gets away from you and neither of you notice when the park grows quiet. The vendors packed up, gone, and the park goers have gone home. 

"Oh, wow, I've never been out this late before," he says, checking his watch. 

"It has gotten pretty late, hasn't it?” you say, a yawn slipping through.

"And someone is ready to sleep,” he teases then asks, " Would you mind if I walk you home?" 

"I'd love that,” you smile softly.

Cable walks you home. You stand on the mat in front of your door, fiddling with your keys, hesitant to go inside just yet. 

"Would it.. be presumptuous of me to ask you on another date?” Caleb asks, the tips of his ears turning red again as he rubs the back of his neck. 

"You want.. to go on another date?"

"I'd really like to. Unless, I misunderstood that we were getting along well.”

“No, you didn't, I'm just... surprised." 

“Surprised? That I want to go on another date with a super smart, beautiful woman," he grins. 

And I almost melt.

"Well.. When you say it like that.." 

He laughs, “How does this Saturday at 5:30 in the evening sound? We can try another street vendor Or I can look for you in your place?”

"Let’s put a pin in you cooking for me. I'd like to try another street vendor,” you say.

Shyly, he grabs your hand. Softly rubbing your knuckles. Tender and soft. 

"Would it be okay.. if I kissed you?” he asks.

You don't give him a verbal answer, you simply grab the collar of his shirt and pull him towards you. 

His lips meet yours, soft and hesitant. But the kiss grows and he pulls back Placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. 

His purple galaxy eyes sparkle as he gazes at you, “See you this Saturday, my beautiful goddess”

Your heart flutters and your lower belly tightens as he gives you a wink then leaves. 

The date that Saturday passes as pleasant blur, time blending into one until night turns to dusk. With a tease, he walks you home again. 

He asks for another date to which you gleefully accept. And he offers next week in the early evening. And you nod.

You return to  work, powering through it with a frenzy. Urgently trying to complete everything accurately so that there was no repeating and no work left over. 

You fight Wanderers with newfound motivation. You see them as an obstacle. 

A week passes. The dates continue to be just as stimulating as it is fun. Another week turns into 2. Then a month. A year. 

But oddly enough, Caleb doesn't do more than snuggle and kiss when you're in each other's company. 

He respects your boundaries. Almost irritatingly well. He gives you kisses on your neck and forehead. And he's a snuggler, just like you. 

But he doesn't go further. Doesn't initiate. He simply slips out of the bed, planting fervent kisses before pulling away to go to work. 

And honestly... It's starting to piss you off. 

A week later, he's staying the night and you just emerged from taking a shower. You rub oils and lotions into your skin. 

"Y/N, I made a snack. It's on the counter if you want some," Caleb calls from the kitchen.

Unassuming, you walk out from the bathroom, wrapped in your plushy towel. 

You walk into the kitchen, eyeing the “snack" he made. 

A platter of cheeses and crackers with meats. Then a teapot bowling for beverages. A new habit you picked up from Tara. Her suggestion was that it was better for your immune system, a noticeable difference in your energy levels and your pH balance. 

“Hey, I got the tea going that Tara recommend..." he starts to say, then freezes. 

You watch his purple gaze darken at the sight of you. 

You lock eyes with each other, frozen. Neither of you moving a muscle. 

Then he slowly starts walking towards you. His slow steps have you backing up around the island, circling around the it. 

“Did you… come out dressed like that to tempt me?” he says, growling slightly at the end. 

A shiver skitters down your back.

“No…” you almost squeak when he traps you against the stainless steel door of the fridge. 

His hand slowly snakes around your towel clad body, pulling you flush against him. 

His eyes scream wolf, hungry. 

The hand gently grasps your chin, and he leans forward. "Tell me And I'll stop right now," he says, his voice almost a begging whisper. 

Your skin is hot, prickling with awareness. 

“Do you want to go further?” he says, voice a heated whisper and eyes dark with want. 

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. 

"Words, little bird. I want to hear you say it,” he says, his lips are a breath away from yours but he's patient. 

Oh so patient. 

Infuriatingly so. 

“ I do.. so bad” you whisper. 

“I was trying.. to maintain my distance... to be a gentleman,” his words are deep, gravely and somehow soft. 

A warning. 

“Remember.. you asked for this,” he almost growls. 

Picking you up, and putting your 5ft 5 thick curvy body over his shoulders effortlessly. 

You panic. A slight fear that you're too heavy and he might drop you. 

"I lift weights for a reason, little bird. And it's so I can carry you like you weigh nothing. So relax,” he says, his fingers digging into your fleshy thighs as he carries you into your bedroom and lays you on the bed. 

Carefully. As if something precious. Something fragile. 

And although his eyes are dark and swirling with promise, he parts your legs gently. Slowly. 

"You smell so good,” he whispers as his nose glides along the inside of your thighs. 

As he gets closer to the apex of your thighs, you get the sudden urge to close your legs. 

Feeling the flinching in your thigh. Caleb nips on the jumping muscle, "Nuh uh.” 

He delves his nose into your throbbing folds, inhaling. It elicits a gasp from your lips. 

And he places a kiss on your weeping slit. 

“You smell even better here,” he says, a whisper. 

A long, unhurried lick. 

He groans, broken, ”Fuck." 

You whimper. 

“Fly for me, baby,” he whispers and lavishes your cunt with his tongue and teeth. 

Sucking and nibbling. Worshipping like your body was a Deity of his sole reason for being.

You hadn't realized that the long year of teasing kisses had done nothing but edge you on. 

So to feel the unrestrained heat and attentions of his tongue, you were ready to break apart almost immediately. 

“That's it. Let go,” he coos, a soft encouragement, never stopping his ministrations. 

His speed and intensity never changes. And he doesn't stop at making you cum once.  

He keeps going. Determined to have you fall apart beneath him, on his tongue as many times as your body allowed. 

And then some. 

And to think, all of this stimmed from a blind date.

Copywrite: @laddelulu30; Do not translate or copy without permission.

Title Banner: yours truly. MDNI Banner: @jiyascepter

@unintentionalseductress @deepspacenova @jinwoosbabyboo @aeyumicore @reilemon @nebulaeternal @thathuntergirl @brightcolorsare4wh0res @hrhmimieucliffe @uyai1101-lads @chibichibi-mia @jonghyunyourenotmybias

A/N: I wanted to write with my fancy fountain pen and every OCR software acted like it couldn't read my perfectly legible handwriting. So, it was a process to get it up, but I'm glad it came out well. And I love the comments. You guys are so sweet!!

[aryuunachigiri]

pleasepleaseplease tag your non-reader friendly posts correctly, I'm tired of thinking one post is an "x reader" but the mc is an oc 🥲🥲🥲🥲

yes we can just imagine ourselves in the oc's place but I'm telling y'all it doesn't hit as hard as reader-insert's 😓

actually this is kinda all applies under the not tagged correctly posts where they get tagged as "male" reader but the content in it is afab 😢 or the non gender-neutral ones getting tagged in a gendered post

[chocolate-flavored-rafayel]

Even if you constantly forget me...

I won't be able to forget...

Not even for a moment...

[ariyai]

Okay, so I might be on to something

[thatharemlifestyle]

Random 4 star memories in PoC

PoC edits for my Delulu

Zayne: fragmented dreams

Rafayel: Dangerously close.

Xavier: shining light

Edits by CybillaFräulein

Trying hard for that max Harem Lifestyle delulu stat