#anyway. this is the caleb drabble week finale. sometimes a drabble is 900 words idgaf

[humanjarvis]

pilot diet

🚨: reference to medical fasting, somnophilia (previously consented), reader wakes up briefly, cunnilingus, tongue fucking for sustenance basically, ambiguous female orgasm but maybe squirting if you're into that

caleb was hungry.

per the fleet’s medical personnel, all airmen were required to go on a 12-hour water fast before their annual physical exam. and his was tomorrow. 

he thought he’d be fine. thought he could last a few extra hours on an empty stomach. but he was so hungry. 

which, somehow, had brought him to your room. fidgeting in your bedroom doorway, eyes glued to your sleeping form.

it’s fine, he thinks, digging his nails into his palm. the nurses didn’t say anything about this, right? a-and she said i could whenever i needed to. we both did. so it’s fi—

a soft rustling from your bed almost makes him jump out of his skin, but you’d only rolled over in your sleep. 

it’s fine. 

slowly, quietly, he inches toward you, his hesitant shuffle becoming a prowl the closer he gets. 

when he reaches the foot of the bed, the soft pressure of his evol pulls your covers back and gently floats you down to him, your legs dangling over the edge of the mattress.

he sighs with longing as he lifts your oversized shirt. normally, he’d take the time to truly appreciate you, licking you through your panties until he could taste you through the fabric.

but he couldn’t risk it tonight. he was desperate, and you had a busy day tomorrow, too.

carefully, he pulls your panties down, his senses flicking to life as if they’ve just discovered a prize. his mouth waters at the sight of you. the sweet notes of your body wash envelop him, mixing with your natural scent. 

moaning involuntarily, he dives forward, hesitating only to remind himself not to startle you out of your sleep. 

a moment later, his lips meet your slit in a gentle, reverent kiss, his nose poking slightly through to brush against your clit. sighing at the contact, he thrusts his pink tongue forward, flattening it against your folds to test your sensitivity. and when you don’t react, he parts your folds with gentle haste. 

his only goal tonight is you gushing around his tongue. right into his mouth, filling him with your flavor.

tenderly, he suckles your clit in an open-mouthed kiss before turning his attention to your glistening entrance. he licks over and around it before plunging his tongue into you, lifting your hips to sink as far as he can get. 

your arousal oozes around him, coating his lips as his eager tongue explores inside you. licking, thrusting, swishing side to side—trying everything he can to taste all of you.

when you abruptly clench around him, he ruts his hips against the firm edge of the mattress, too focused on you to pay his swollen, leaking cock any mind. 

he only pulls away to catch his breath and make sure he hasn't disturbed you. but when he nestles back in, he gathers your folds in his mouth and releases them with a loud pop—too ravenous to notice you stirring awake.

“mngh…caleb?” you moan groggily, reaching down to grip his soft strands. 

“shh, m’sorry,” he mumbles, mouth too full of you to speak clearly. “go back to sleep, baby. i’m sorry, go back to sleep. just need to taste you.”

humming in dazed acceptance, you flop your head back down, and caleb thinks you’ve followed his orders. 

but when you start grinding lazily against his face, forcing his tongue even deeper into you, he nearly stains his boxers white.

you are going back to bed, it seems. you’re just using his face as your sleep aid—and he’s happy to help. 

for a while, you keep using each other, your half-conscious form getting off on his nose and tongue while he licks up your pooling slick.

but eventually, your movements slow before stopping altogether, and your hand goes slack in his mussed-up hair. you'd fallen back asleep, pushing his face into your pretty pussy. like you’d known there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. 

your movements had sent you closer to the edge—he can tell from the twitches of your lonely clit, stiff and desperate for his touch. 

leaving your entrance with a sloppy kiss, he obliges. surging upwards, he lashes his tongue across the bud, flicking and suckling it until your legs unconsciously tighten around his head. so close. 

he can’t use his mouth anymore. it has to be open, waiting, ready to catch whatever you’ll give him.

so he replaces it with his fingers. bringing his hand up to your clit, he rubs eagerly, but the gentle pinch he gives it is your undoing. as he holds the bud between long fingers, your release gushes out of you and into his waiting mouth.

between greedy swallows, he whispers reverent thank-yous, lining your thighs with appreciative kisses. he’s not hungry anymore, but that doesn’t mean he won’t eat. 

once he’s gulped down your release, he sucks your slick folds and quivering hole for more, hell-bent on drinking everything you have. but when his tongue prods your entrance again, your legs instinctively clamp shut, and he knows he’s had his fill for the night. 

raising his head for the first time in ages, he licks his glistening lips in contentment, the pleasant buzz of satiety spreading through his brain.