#if they were different characters in the same position

[mochieekittenz]

Hold Me After

cw: p*ssy eating, (not so) dry humping, thighf*cking

character(s): caleb x f!reader (smut, fluff)

aaaaand before we begin! thank you so much for all the love on my last Sylus post — your comments, reblogs, and general interactions absolutely made my week. You guys are insane in the best way, and I adore you for it!! <3 It makes me genuinely so happy seeing people enjoying my work because I try to put my everything in it

THIS FIC is brought to you by my sleep deprivation and the ghost of my dignity. Warning! This is 90% my Caleb obsession and 10% me desperately trying to keep up. I take no refunds. Proceed with caution and enjoy! :>

──★ ˙

It was summer — Last year of highschool

The school year was practically over. Graduation was just a few weeks away, and for the first time in ages, the idea of “what comes next” didn’t make your stomach twist with anxiety — it actually excited you. You were done with the routine, the crowded hallways, same questions, same answers. There was something thrilling about the thought of stepping into the world on your own terms.

You’d always dreamed of that moment. Of being your own person, following your own rhythm. It should’ve been exciting. You were ready for it — or at least you told yourself that.

But the truth was, independence didn’t always feel like freedom. It felt like silence, sometimes. Like boredom. Like being left behind.

It also meant change. Real change.

Especially when it came to Caleb

You used to see him every day. He was your partner in crime. A best friend, someone with you didn’t have to pretend anything. You knew each other too well for that. You shared the same roof, same stories, the same stupid inside jokes that could only build after years of proximity.

He’d tease you, you’d mock him, you’d steal food off each other’s plates, pinch eachother, even argue at some times. The unstoppable bickering between you two was a no stranger.

It was simple like that

But now? Now everything felt…grown-up. Fragile. Like if you said the wrong thing, you’d ruin the balance.

He’d started college — aviation. He was chasing clouds while you were stuck finishing essays and pretending high school still mattered. And Caleb changed — not drastically, but in little ways that stung. He spoke differently now, carried himself with a quiet kind of confidence. He was sharper. More thoughtful. His voice deeper, his face leaner. There was still the same warmth when he smiled at you, still the same teasing edge — but something else, too. Something you couldn’t name without feeling stupid for noticing.

He was visiting you and grandma as much as he could, when he wasn't heavy with his responsibilities, like now — early June when holidays were almost there. When the sense of nostalgia filled the air and made everything rush back to you.

However — Today the house was still. Caleb had been out all day, catching up with old friends he hadn't seen since winter. Dinner was long over. Grandma had gone to bed early with one of her crime novels. You were laying on your bed, freshly showered and still warm from the steam, your hair damp against the back of your neck. The heat had lingered even after sunset, turning your small room into a suffocating bubble of humid air and sticky skin. An old fan clattered weakly at the foot of your bed, doing more noise than good.

It was too hot to think. Too hot to sleep. You lay on your stomach, chin propped on the pillow, staring at your phone screen and scrolling through the same posts, fingers moving out of habit more than interest. Pictures. Videos. Nothing new. You were bored out of your mind.

That restless kind of bored that made your skin feel too tight. That kind of bored that made you itch for something, anything to feel.

You sighed heavily and locked your phone, you let it rest on your chest, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness. It was so hot. It was so fucking hot.

It felt ridiculous. But your body wouldn’t settle, no matter how many positions you tried, no matter how many apps you opened and closed again.

There was nothing to do

There was no one to talk to

And you couldn’t stop thinking about Caleb

Not in that way. Not…like that.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But he’d been so different lately. Distant, quieter. Still kind, still Caleb — you caught him looking at you sometimes. Not in a way that you could call out. Just…a second too long. A flick of the eyes when you weren’t wearing a bra under your tank top, or you were wearing something shorter. You never wanted to admit it to yourself, you never let such thoughts even cross your mind — You felt bad about it.

But on the other hand.

You weren’t stupid

You noticed the way his eyes flicked away the instant you met his gaze, like he was caught but unwilling to admit it. That brief pause, that half-smile that never quite reached his eyes. It made your heart both race and ache, all at once.

Your legs shifted, thighs pressing together. You exhaled slowly through your nose. Your hand moved to rest on your abdomen, fingers mindlessly fumbling with a string of your sleep shorts.

It was dumb

But you can still feel it — the way he looked at you, those barely-there glances that never failed to set that weird sensation in your stomach. It made your skin tingle in the worst way possible. Your heartbeat quickens just at the thought of it, a slow, taunting ache blossoming inside you.

Without really thinking, your fingers twitch at your waistband. Your hand drifts, almost hypnotically, sliding underneath the soft fabric of your shorts.

Not because of him. Of course not. He was just a passing thought.

A shiver runs up your spine as your fingers press gently against your underwear. The touch is light at first, a delicate tease as your fingertips trace the smoothness of your panties. You feel the faint heat beneath, a warmth you hadn’t fully acknowledged until this very moment. It makes every nerve in you ignite.

With an heavy exhale you begin to circle your fingers. Your touch slow at first, barely there. Just enough to make your body tense, to make your hips lift slightly into your own hand. Your other hand gripped the sheets. Your breath stuttering. The world outside faded, leaving only the uneven rhythm of your breath and the gentle rise and fall of your chest.

Your mind drifts again, tangled in fantasies of what those looks might mean — what might possibly happen if you dared to meet his gaze and hold it.

And you imagine his voice.

Low

Breathy

Over your ear

Saying your name the way he doesn’t.

Just a passing thought. Yeah

You press harder, your fingers finding that perfect spot over your underwear, that little bump covered by the fabric, rubbing in gentle, measured circles. The friction — the pressure — it’s not enough, but it’s a good start.

You know this won’t take long

Not when your body already knows what it’s chasing. Not when you’ve been carrying this heat all day, pretending it wasn’t there.

You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet, a soft sigh escapes. Your legs part a little wider, giving your fingers more room to move, pressing harder, faster.

Your whole body is flushed, caught in that delicious, desperate chase. You catch the inside of your cheek with your teeth. And just as your thighs started to tremble—

...

Click

The door swings open

Caleb.

You freeze

"Hey pipsqueak, I've—" you can swear that his face just went through at least 15 emotions, all at once.

....

"Shit...Sorry—"

You lay wide eyed. Heart hammering. Hand still buried under your shorts, caught in motion.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He didn't knock — because he never had to knock — and now there he is — Caleb. Standing in the doorway, just like he’s always done, comfortable, casual — except this time, he had seen everything.

In one frantic motion, you yanked the sheets over your hips, sitting upright so fast your head spun.

“Jesus—Caleb, knock—!” you blurted out, voice breaking somewhere between anger and panic.

He had seen.

“I—fuck,” he stammered, eyes darting to the floor, but he didn’t step back, didn’t shut the door.

“I didn’t know — I thought you—"

“Y-you were supposed to be out—" you muttered, your voice strangled.

“I was. But I left my charger in your room,” he whispered, voice low and ragged. “Didn’t think…”

....

Your skin prickled. Your heart wouldn’t slow down, no matter how hard you tried.

“…didn’t think I’d walk in on you doing that.”

You swallowed hard, chest heaving.

“W-Well—congrats. You did. So—"

He still stood there, caught like he’d stepped into a dream he wasn’t sure was real. His gaze raked over you—slowly, like it hurt to look and hurt more to stop.

You both stared at each other, locked in the kind of silence that stretches forever. He didn’t move. Didn’t leave. And for the first time, you saw something in his expression that wasn’t brotherly at all.

Something else flickered there — a shift you didn’t know what to do with.

His gaze was too steady. It made your stomach clench. You saw the way he shifted his weight, the way his hands curled and uncurled at his sides. You were both hovering on the edge of something irreversible.

“Were you...gonna finish?” His voice was quieter now, lower. Not teasing. Not mocking. Just… raw.

What. The. Fuck

"Wha-...C-Caleb, what are you—"

“You were gonna finish, right?” he asked again. “When I walked in?”

The way he said it — not teasing, not cocky. Just…careful. Wanting. So painfully full of restraint it almost hurt.

Your eyes were like two red coals, Caleb never saw such desperation on your face, he really did done something to you. As if this insane desire was matching up to his own - long suppressed one.

“I wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie.”

You looked at him and you didn’t even knew what to say anymore.

He ran a hand through his hair. He was flushed — from frustration. Confusion. Something messier.

You swallowed, your face turned crimson by now.

“Caleb—”

“Please...Tell me what you were thinking about.”

You shook your head, your eyes dropping to the floor.

“Tell me,” he said again, quieter.

“I… I don’t…”

"Please. I need to know." he groaned as if he was going through some kind of pain

You couldn't find your voice at this moment.

Caleb took a nervous second of look back, then clicked the door shut gently, the sound barely audible. He paused, motionless, as if weighing his next move. Then, with slow, deliberate steps, he approached the bed and crouched beside it.

“Did I ever cross a line with you pipsqueak?” he asked. “Ever made you uncomfortable?”

“I...No.” you shook your head.

“Then tell me the truth.”

You bit your lip, eyes cast down.

“Were you thinking about me?”

You were silent, but the corner of your eye twitched. That was everything he had to know.

And he breathed out like if you had just knocked the air from his chest.

Caleb's heart raced, pounding against his ribs like a drum. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing. You, touching yourself, thinking about him? It was everything he had ever fantasized about and more. But it was also so, so wrong.

He swallowed hard, trying to push down the dark, depraved thoughts that flooded his mind. He couldn't think about you like that.

“…Shit. Please don't do this to me." he exhaled heavily.

His voice was low, like it barely made it out of his throat. Like he regretted the question even as he asked it.

You didn’t know where to look. You couldn’t meet his eyes. Your thighs squeezed together and it only made it worse.

He knew he should put a stop to this conversation right now, should push you away and pretend he had never heard your confession. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't bring himself to deny you, to deny himself the chance to be close to you in a way he had always secretly dreamed of.

He was too fucking selfish, too consumed by his own dark desires to do what was right.

“I was trying so hard not to be a sick fuck. So hard.” his face was washed with something you've never seen before. His hand moved out, intertwining his fingers with yours. He swallowed. Hard. His eyes flicked up to your face.

"I'm trying to be good , pipsqueak...I really am. But I don’t know what the fuck we are anymore.” he muttered. ”And do you?”

Your fingers curled tighter around his as you were watching how your hands connected.

“I…” your voice came out small. “I don’t know.”

Caleb exhaled through his nose, eyes shutting like he was trying to keep something inside from spilling out. But it was already too late for that.

“I keep thinking it’s just a phase,” he said. “That I’ll get over it. That it’ll pass.”

His eyes met yours, and they were haunted. Desperate.

“But then you look at me like that. All wide-eyed. Like you’re scared of me. Like...you don't know me? Or worse — like you’re curious.”

Your eyelashes fluttered, your eyes taking in every inch of expressions that were washing over his face at this very moment.

“I hate myself for it. For all of it.” he continued

“I’m not...—proud of what I thought,” he admitted. “Of what I felt. Of the things I imagined when I was alone.” you could swear that his eyes were freaking glossed as he rambled.

"Caleb..."

“I'm so sorry pips. But...I just— I don’t think I can play pretend to be your good proper brother anymore. It's driving me batshit crazy. I’ve been swallowing it down for so long. Every glance. Every goddamn brush of your skin against mine. And it’s—it’s eating me alive.”

He stared at you like he needed you to hate him. Or need him back.

“I don’t want to be this guy,” he said. “I really fucking don’t…”

He moved closer, forehead pressing against the edge of the mattress like it physically hurt to hold back.

“If you tell me to leave, I swear to God I will. I’ll walk out that door and never bring this up again.” his voice came out a muffled desperation.

“But if there’s even a part of you… that feels this too…Then please. Let me stop pretending.”

You felt your throat tighten, the words caught somewhere between fear and fire.

“I…I thought I was crazy.”

He stilled. Moving his face up to look at you.

“I thought...it was just me,” you whispered. “The looks. The way my stomach would flip when you’d come into my room—” you felt your eyes starting to sting, you bit your lip to prevent your emotions from showing. Caleb was watching your face silently.

“I...I hated it. Hated...how wrong it felt. How wrong I felt. But you were always so calm. So normal. Like it didn’t even cross your mind. And I figured it was just me being…sick.”

“No,” he said instantly. “God, no, baby—”

“I know,” you whispered. “Now I know.”

Your fingers curled around his.

He was silent, his eyes bright as all the stars brought together. His lips were parted slightly, as If he couldn't believe his own ears. He swallowed and exhaled through his nose, rising slightly on his knees.

"Can I...Can I kiss you?—"

“Yes.” your response came faster than you could think. You thought about it. Fuck you thought about it so many times, even if you wouldn't admit it to yourself.

His breath shuddered. He leaned in slowly, as if he was giving you every second to back out. But he never found any hesitation.

He closed the distance. His lips brushed yours like he was testing the idea of a kiss, not taking it. Feather-light, his breath trembling over your plushy lips.

You made a small, aching sound in the back of your throat — not even a word. Just need.

And that was it.

He pressed his lips against yours. He kissed you, this time real. His hand curled into the sheets near your hip, still not daring to touch your skin, but his mouth moved over yours like he was starving for it. Like kissing you was a sin and a salvation all at once. You whimpered against him, your lips parting, and he groaned into your mouth like the sound had been ripped straight from his chest.

Your hand reached up blindly, curling into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer with a breathless little noise you couldn’t hold back. That was all it took for him to lose the last of his control.

He deepened the kiss — not harsh, but needy, hungry in a way that felt like it had been building for years. And you kissed him back — shy, nervous, a pure instinct.

As if driven by some quiet courage you didn’t know you had, your free hand found his wrist. You squeezed it gently.

He pulled away to catch his breath, his eyes flicked open, searching yours — surprised but not pulling away.

Slowly, hesitantly, you guided his hand downward, until his palm rested against your inner thigh. You held his hand there for a heartbeat, your heart hammering in your chest like a drum. And then, with a trembling breath, you guided it further.

Right between your legs.

Caleb froze for a second — his breath caught in his throat. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he looked at you with something fierce and tender all at once.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, voice rough and barely controlled.

You nodded, cheeks flushing hotter than before.

He shuddered and leaned back towards you. He started to plant soft kisses over your jaw, sliding down to your neck. He nuzzled his nose into your collarbone, letting out a shaky breath as he let his fingers fumble underneath your sleep shorts.

His breath caught — sharp and audible — and for a second, his whole body visibly shuddered.

“Holy—…” he whispered, voice cracking in his throat.

His fingers pressed gently against the dampness soaking through the thin cotton, like he couldn’t believe what he was feeling. You squirmed, your face twisting slightly as you felt his fingertips grazing your panties.

“You’re—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “Fuck, you're soaked..”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face flushed, lips parted, chest rising like he couldn’t catch his breath.

“You got like this… just from touching yourself?” he asked, eyes searching yours, stunned and wrecked.

You nodded, shy but unable to lie.

His fingers kept moving slowly over the soaked fabric, each drag making you twitch beneath him. It was maddening — warm, steady pressure just shy of what you needed, and you couldn’t stop the quiet, aching sounds spilling from your throat.

Caleb was staring at your face like he was watching something sacred. His jaw was tight, eyes wild, and his lips hovered just inches from yours — close enough that you could feel every shaky breath.

You whimpered, hand fisting the sheets beside you.— like the sound was dragged out of your chest without permission. Your eyebrows pulled together.

His breath caught again — like every sound you made hit him straight in the chest.

“You’re already shaking,” he murmured, voice rough. “And I haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

Your breath shook — a sharp, broken sound that made his whole body jolt.

“I can feel you through them,” he rasped, fingers teasing along the edges of your panties. “You’re so wet I could probably taste it through the fucking fabric.”

You squirmed. His mouth found your ear, he kissed it slowly, reverently, as his thumb dragged down the soaked center of your underwear once more — slower this time.

“I’m...trying to go slow,” he murmured against your earlobe, words hot and wet against your skin. “Trying not to scare you. But, fuck, pipsqueak…”

He groaned, soft and strangled, his hand pausing again.

“You feel like this and expect me to be normal?”

You shifted, thighs twitching around his wrist, and his fingers twitched in response — a helpless reflex.

“God, pips… I’m so hard right now.”

He swallowed hard, eyes dark and desperate.

“I swear, it’s like my cock’s about to burst.”

He leaned downwards. His lips found the corner of your mouth, moving down to jaw, then your neck — slow, open-mouthed kisses dragging down every inch of your skin. You whimpered uncontrollably.

“You have to be quiet,” he murmured, barely above a whisper, “Because if Gran' hears, we’re both fucked.”

Caleb’s hand massaged you for a moment longer, trembling with every touch — before he slowly pulled back, his eyes dark and searching. His fingers hooked under the hem of your shorts, sliding them slowly down you.

You swallowed hard, cheeks flushing even more, caught between embarrassment and want

“I hate that you couldn’t finish… because I walked in. I’m gonna make it up to you,” he vowed, voice desperate but soft. “I promise.”

“I want to do this right,” he whispered, voice low, rough with need. “I want to make sure you feel everything — all of it.”

Caleb stripped your shorts off with practiced ease, the fabric pooling at your ankles. He dropped to his knees beside the bed again, hands firm as they slid beneath you, pulling your hips to the edge with a quiet hunger. His breath hitched, eyes locked on the darkened center of your underwear, his pupils wide with want. He wetted his lips slowly, gaze flicking up to meet yours — a silent question, or maybe...just maybe — a promise. He leaned in.

His mouth found you through the damp fabric, a low hum escaping him immediately as he kissed you there. His nose grazed against you as he breathed in, savoring the scent of your arousal. You gasped softly, hips jerking upward in response, and his eyes didn’t leave yours for a second — dark, burning, and full of intention.

”H-Hah...Caleb—" you whined out

He lingered there, lips pressing to the soaked fabric as if testing your patience — or his own. He exhaled a shaky breath, then slowly, deliberately, let the tip of his tongue drag along the dampness, tasting you through the thin barrier. His hands gripped your hips tighter as he let out a low sound of approval, the vibrations humming against you.

His mouth moved with purpose now — no longer tentative, but hungry, sure of the effect he had on you. His tongue traced slow, deliberate circles, then flicked with precision, alternating rhythm and pressure in a way that made your thighs tense around him.

Your face twisted with that kind of pleasure — that you didn't even knew could exist - until now of course.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured into you, his voice breaking on the edge of awe. “You taste so sweet… I need—” his breath caught, “—I need to make you cum…"

And with agonizing slowness, he hooked his fingers under the edge of your underwear, his fingers tracing the lacy frill that was already soaked by your arousal. He lifted his eyes to yours once again — a silent pause, waiting for your permission, your surrender. When he saw it, he pushed the fabric aside, baring you to his heated gaze.

"Gods—You're so...pretty, pipsqueak."

He took his time, as if memorizing every detail, before leaning in again. This time, there was no hesitation. His tongue met you fully — wet and hot — It made your hips jerk up harshly, your hand flew to cover your mouth. Fuck and the whine he made...was pure need. Each drag of his tongue was hurried, worshipful, drawing a gasp from your nose as your body arched into his mouth. You couldn't blame him, he waited for so long after all. He held you there, pinned by the weight of his hunger, devouring every reaction with his mouth, his breath, his eyes.

You shivered like you've never did before. A bead of sweat rolled down your back. Your fingers found his hair, threading through the soft strands, pulling instinctively as your hips arched toward his mouth. He responded with a low growl, gripping your thighs tighter, holding you open, guiding you exactly how he wanted you — nowhere to run, nothing to do but feel.

His lips sealed around your clit. Tongue closed around the delicate bud, flicking and teasing with maddening precision, the tip of his tongue blessing it with kitten licks, sending shockwaves of fire straight to your core.

"C-Caleb, I-I can't—" you whimpered over your hand.

“I wanted to get my hands on you...for so long...” he stammered, then sucked — hard. His lips locked tight around your clit like he was trying to drink the years of longing straight from your body.

”I...I just wanted to do this to you...” his fingers stroked your thighs, tender but desperate, like he couldn’t decide whether to hold you or worship you.

“You don’t get it,” he gasped against your heat. “You don’t fucking get it. I’ll ruin myself for this. For you. I’ll tear myself apart. I’ll fall on my knees, I’ll beg, I’ll fucking crawl. I'll do anything you ask me for—"

He whined like a damn puppy. It was cute — in it's own way, but so fucking sick and twisted at the same time.

“Can’t believe you’ve been walkin’ around with this between your legs…and I couldn’t touch it,” he whispered raggedly, kissing your inner thighs, his voice cracking like he was close to crying. “All those nights thinking about it. Thinking about you—how you’d taste. How you’d sound.”

He groaned like it hurt to say it, to feel it, to taste it. His fingers trembled slightly as he spread your folds open, almost like he was afraid you’d disappear if he wasn’t careful. He pressed his tongue flat against you and dragged it up with aching precision, then locked eyes with you again, pupils blown wide.

You try to hold back, to stay quiet, but the tight, uncontrollable squeeze inside you betrays your will. Your hole contracts reflexively — even though there’s nothing inside, it clenches around empty air, like it’s already craving him, already hungry for the fullness you know only he can give. Your hips buck upwards sharply, and he pulls you by your hips even harder.

“Shit...please. Please just...use my...—Use my face.”

You swear you could feel your eyes almost rolling back your skull. A single tear rolled down your cheek — From the immaculate pleasure you couldn't comprehend. Your body shuddered, hips jerking instinctively as he devoured you, tongue pressing harder, driving you closer to the edge. You grind into his mouth, desperate, needy, gone — and he doesn’t stop. He won’t stop. He’s slurping you up through the edge, into it, past it — until your vision whites out and your body forgets how to do anything but come, violently, endlessly, wrecked on his tongue.

As soon as you whine out into your clasped over your mouth hand — you feel him stiffen. A strangled cry — half a whine, half a gasp — ripped from Caleb’s throat. His whole body tensed like he’d been shocked, a sharp ache crossing his face.

“Fuck—” he gasped, pulling back slightly, breathing heavy, a flush spreading across his cheeks.

You froze, heart pounding, eyes wide.

”C-Caleb? What's...What's wrong?" you breathed out harshly, still struggling to compose yourself.

Before you could ask more, he shook his head, swallowing hard, voice hoarse and embarrassed. “I… I just… came,” he gasps out, breath ragged.

Came from freaking watching you come. Fucked.

A flush rises to your cheeks, a mix of surprise and something tender swelling inside you. You didn’t expect this vulnerability, this raw honesty from him. It makes your heart skip, even as your body aches, still pulsing from the way he touched you.

“Caleb…” you whisper, voice soft but steady.

“I-I'm okay,” he whispered, voice trembling. He reached up to brush your sweat drenched bangs from your forehead.

“Fuck, it never happened to me before” Caleb huffed as if he couldn't believe himself. He swallowed hard, biting his lip as if to hold back something fierce. He pushed himself up and leaned over to press a kiss to your temple.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, voice rough but tender. “I didn’t mean for that to happen now. I just… I need you. Need you so much.” His hands trembled slightly as he reached for your panties. He gently pulled them back into place, like he was protecting you — even though inside he was burning up with need. You furrowed your eyebrows in question.

“I don’t deserve to touch you bare—not yet.” he explained. Then, without breaking eye contact, he slid his hand down to the front of his pants and freed himself.

You saw him — like really saw him for the first time. Your breath hitched. That was this moment, a flicker of time when everything else fades away. His cock was still hard and pulsing, it was something you’d imagined a thousand times, but nothing could prepare you for the reality of it.

Your eyes traced every line, every vein, the way it throbbed with need. The heavines of his arousal was suffocating. You felt a flush creeping up your neck, your heart pounding as a mixture of excitement, nervousness, and something almost like awe washed over you. It was bigger than you expected, powerful and alive, and seeing it like that—so close, so exposed—made your skin tingle all over.

For a heartbeat, his confident, desperate facade cracked, and a flicker of fear passed through his gaze. Were you scared? Did he push too hard, too fast? There was a flicker of worry in his eyes, like the intensity of your stare unsettled him more than you realized. “If you’re… if you’re scared, I get it. I just—”

“No,” you breathed, voice shaky but sure. “I’m not scared.”

He still didn’t move. His hands hovered, frozen in the space between reaching and retreating. You saw how tightly his jaw was clenched, the way his brows pulled together like he was bracing for rejection.

“I’ve just… never seen one in real life before,” you said quietly, eyes flicking down, then back up to meet his. Your cheeks burned. “And it’s… bigger than I thought.”

Silence.

Caleb’s entire body tensed like you’d hit him with something physical. His jaw dropped a little. His eyes went wide — stunned — and then something deep, guttural escaped his chest, like the sound was ripped from him. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, voice breaking as his hand flew up to cover his mouth, like he was physically trying to hold back whatever that did to him.

You could see it — the way his stomach tightened, the way his cock twitched, visibly, painfully. His knees almost buckled.

"I'm gonna lose it..." he groaned.

He moved slowly, but with purpose — stepping back into your space, his hands curling tight around your thighs. He didn’t rush. Instead, he pressed himself against you—through the thin fabric of your panties—his desperate need to feel you flooding every inch of his body. The thick, hot head of his cock found the damp center of your panties, and you both sucked in a breath at the same time.

"A-Ahh—...Caleb–" you hitched sharply.

He let out a deep, broken groan as he rocked his hips forward — slowly, like he was trying to savor every millimeter of friction. The tip of his cock dragged along your soaked fabric, sliding right through the heat of your folds. He hissed, forehead falling against your shoulder, like the sensation alone had him unraveling again. His hand moved down to his own cock, fingers wrapping around the thick shaft, stroking hard and steady while he pressed himself into you.

“Your clit… fuck, it’s right here,” he whispered breathlessly, dragging the tip of his cock over the wettest spot he could find through the fabric.

You whimpered. He whimpered too, his control fraying with every slow stroke. Your body reacted instinctively, thrusting forward as if desperate to chase that burning touch, though you didn’t even understand how just panty-rubbing could fuck with your head this hard.

You couldn’t handle it. The urge to reach out, to pull him closer, to feel him pressed against you in a way that wasn’t just teasing, was unbearable. You let out a soft moan, your hands twitching, craving contact.

Caleb caught it immediately. Of course he did. He was watching your face more than anything in this world. It was always like that. Even when you two were still kids. He always wanted to catch every emotion, to know if you were scared, shy, uncomfortable — It became a habit of his own. Without hesitation, he shifted, moving over you until he was hovering, chest pressing down on yours gently, his heavy breaths mingling with yours.

He kissed you fiercely, lips claiming yours in a hunger that matched the ache between your thighs. His hands slid down to your legs, wrapping around your thighs with a gentle grip.

“Squeeze your thighs for me,” he murmured against your lips, voice thick with desperate need.

You looked at him strangely for a moment but without thinking about it for too long — you pressed your thighs together. And Caleb not wasting his time, guided himself between your legs — Slowly, carefully.

You saw his cock sliding out from between your thighs, looking straight at you, making your breath hitch. Your eyes flicked up at him as your teeth tortured your lower lip. He held your eyes as he began to thrust—not inside you, but between your thighs, grinding firm and steady. The fabric of your panties stretched and slickened under the pressure.

Caleb groaned deep in his throat. His hands roamed your body, holding at your hips as he continued to thrust between your thighs, hips rolling in needy circles, desperate for every inch of your warmth. His mouth claimed yours again, kissing fiercely, tongue exploring with a desperate hunger that matched the relentless grinding below.

“Gods—...you're so soft here pipsqueak..." he muttered over your lips as he pulled away to rest his sweaty forehead over yours.

You whined a little bit, trying to keep your noises mindful. Your eyes were locked down on your closed thighs. The sight of his hardness vanishing and reappearing between your plushy flesh was making your head spin.

"S-Squeeze them tighter..." he choked out, your eyes flicked up to his face, watching it closely.

You clenched your thighs harder, grinding up a bit to help his cock catch onto your clothed folds better. And when you did that — the look on his face was absolutely everything. His face scrunched in pleasure, eyebrows drew up together, he looked as if he was about to cry — at least.

It was that easy for you to make him lose his mind.

”Shiiiit...Just like that—Good girl.” the nickname made something ugly churn in your stomach. He used to call you that earlier. Many times. Like when you got a good grade on your test, or when you achieved something he knew you could do. But now? It was an entirely different thing — and it made you mewl.

”You're making so much noise pips, you're some kind of pervert?...” he chuckled softly, even though his breath was ragged and he was clutching his self control tightly.

"S-Shut up..." you squirmed, your hand pushing at his shoulder.

”Don't get your panties in a twist pipsqueak...I always knew you liked when I called you that — You used to be fishing for my praise, y'know?...”

"I-I wasn't—"

"You were. No need to hide it pips...I think it was cute — it still is, if you ask me..." he snorted softly, laughing through his nose.

Then he groaned, his hips speeding up in it's moves. Your sweaty thighs slapping together.

"Ah...Fuck...” he hissed, taking a shaky inhale.

”You know, pipsqueak...I think, that you've always liked my attention on you.”

His hand sank down, to press himself better over your underwear as he fucked your thighs. You whined, and he smiled. Fucker.

”When you were younger you always found your way to have my eyes on you. You were pinching me, biting, kicking, stealing my stuff, showing off...” he huffed, his eyes closing as he tried to keep himself at the bay.

”But now when you got older, you understood some things...You know what I mean, yeah?"

You squirmed as the head of his cock firmly rubbed over your center with each thrust.

"N-No—"

”You know.”

He leaned down to your ear, placing a hot kiss over it.

”When you started to understand how to rile me up in a much better way — Like...You stopped wearing a bra whenever I was around. Those teasing touches when we would watch a movie together. When you—Ah...Shit—When you would tickle me because you knew I wouldn't put my hands on you anymore....You can tell yourself that you didn't know what you were doing, but deep down you know you wanted me to notice. You're not stupid, and i'm not stupid either.”

”Caleb—” a shiver rippled down your spine as he murmured into your ear. Not only from how close he was, but because of how right he was. You were losing it fairly.

”You're not going to shy away now, are you?” he scoffed, his hips slapped foward, making noise. He let out a shaky moan.

"Fuck i'm so close already..." he muttered over your earlobe, your fingers tightened on his shoulder, your eyebrows drawing together, overwhelmed from the friction. He moved his thumb to press his tip strictly over you.

"Y-You feel, too good...I can— Feel...How wet you are...It's doing things to me that you won't understand.”

You let our a shaky breath and moved to wrap your arms around him. You needed him close in this moment, heart to heart. Your thighs started to tremble as he rubbed against you, that similar ache blooming deep inside you once more, it was all purely for him, only for him.

"Gonna cum baby?..." he caught onto it immediately, his efforts doubled.

You choked down a moan and nodded, your back arching subtly as you bucked up to meet his delicious movements.

"H-Hah...You gonna cum with me, okay?..." he breathed over your skin. Everything was becoming dizzy so fast. Your eyes closing, all of your senses heightened.

You felt — Everything

Starting from the way his ragged breath shook over your ear, how your slick with sweat bodies slid against eachother as if they were meant to be together, the squelching noises you two were creating, the subtle slaps that eachoed through the walls of your suffocating room when he pressed close. It was so much. It was beautiful, because it was you and him, just like it should always be.

You begin to feel a knot after knot, tying down in your abdomen. Your thighs clamp instinctively, you grip tighter around Caleb as if holding onto the very source of your rising pleasure. The friction builds relentlessly, a delicious torment that tightens your belly and curls your toes. You can feel the muscles deep inside your pussy, contracting and relaxing in an involuntary rhythm — trembling with the power of what’s coming.

Your breath hitches and stutters, uneven and quick, like you’re struggling to catch the air that keeps slipping away. Caleb's hands clutch at your hips, fingers digging into your skin as if trying to hold you close forever. His jaw clenches tight, muscles taut as he fights to keep himself together, but the heat is overwhelming—too intense to control. He breathes deeply against your lips, his eyes squeezed shut.

”Cum for me...P-Please cum for me..." he whines, his face contorting. He's almost there. And so are you.

Just as the wild surge of pleasure begins to shatter your control, your breath catching in ragged gasps, Caleb moves with urgent purpose — he closes the distance, his lips crashing over yours in a fierce, searing kiss that shuts down any cry before it can escape.

And there it is.

You squeeze your eyes shut, Caleb swallowing every single of your moan, and so you are his. Your whole vision went blank as your thighs shook off the stimulation. Pure bliss washing over your body.

You feel the wave of his own orgasm wash over him—hot, intense, overwhelming. His body shakes and his hips stutter — his essence spurting out over the place where you meet, a testament to the fire you’ve ignited together. He elongates the kiss before pulling back from your lips to catch his breath.

The silence afterward feels sacred. Caleb is still above you, but there’s no urgency now. His body is trembling, his chest still heaving, but his hands… his hands are soft. Careful. Like he’s afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t keep holding on.

And he kisses you. Once on your temple. Then your cheek. The corner of your lips. Reverent, unhurried. His touch glides from your hips to your stomach, slowing with each stroke, like he’s trying to calm your body and his at the same time.

“A-Are you okay?” he whispers finally, voice still hoarse with what just happened, but gentler

You don’t answer right away. Just a small nod, soft, but there’s that tiny smile — faint, tender, a little dazed — And it makes his heart melt.

Without a word, he reached over and pulled the hem of his shirt up, tugging it off of him, careful not to disturb you. The fabric was soft against your skin as he pressed it lightly against your lower stomach, where a few stray marks of his release still glistened. His touch was delicate, almost hesitant, as if afraid to break the fragile quiet between you.

”I'm sorry i've made a mess...” he muttered

You shook your head to reassure him. ”We are even.”

He raised his eyes to you and a bashful smile blossomed on his face. He gently swiped the fabric across your skin, wiping away every trace with a tenderness that made your heart squeeze. It wasn’t just about cleaning—there was a sacredness in the way he cared for you, in how he always cared for you.

“I got you,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

You felt the weight of those three words, how much they meant for you, coming from him — gentle and devoted.

He discarded his dirty shirt somewhere on the floor without a care in the world. He reached beneath you, sliding his hands to the edges of your underwear. His fingers trembled just slightly as he carefully pulled them down your legs, his gaze never leaving your face. You feel no shame here, only a profound tenderness as he helps you shed the last remnants of the night’s intensity. He folded them neatly and set them aside — mentally noting to wash them tommorow. Then leaned down to kiss the soft curve of your hip, his lips warm and soothing against your skin.

He moved up, letting himself slump beside you. Intertwining your hands together — As if he has to know you're here, that you're not just a speck of his imagination. His thumb moved slowly over the back of your soft hand, he pulled it up to press a gentle kiss over your knuckles.

Your breathing slows in unison. The chaos of earlier melts into a soft hum beneath your skin. You don’t speak for a long moment, because there’s no pressure to fill the silence. It’s the kind of quiet that only comes when you’re held by someone who sees you—truly sees you—and stays anyway.

Eventually, Caleb lets out a quiet laugh.

“What?” you murmur, turning your head to look at his side profile.

“I don’t know,” he says, exhaling slowly. “I just… I feel like I waited forever for this. And now that it happened, I keep thinking I’ll wake up. Like maybe I fell asleep on the couch while you were ignoring me and now I’m dreaming the whole damn thing.”

You shift, lifting your chin slightly to meet his eyes. “You’re not dreaming, Caleb.”

He smiles, and it’s soft. His thumb traced the line of your knuckles. “If I was, though, I think I’d want to stay asleep.”

You nudge him playfully with your forehead. “That’s so corny.”

“Mm. You like it.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop smiling either.

He leans in and kisses you again—not hungrily this time, but with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. His lips move slow, reverent, and he pulls away just to whisper, “You look like a mess right now.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Caleb, you meanie.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You smile and nuzzle yourself into his lips. With a small, content sigh, he slid his arm around you, tugging you gently closer until there’s no space left between you. You feel his heartbeat thrumming against your back, steady and strong, and it grounds you deeper than any words ever could.

”Can you stay in my room for tonight?” you hummed softly.

”I wasn't exactly planning on leaving, y'know” he murmured quietly, amusement tugging at his voice

”Good.” you smiled to yourself

You both sink deeper into the bed, the softness of the sheets a gentle cradle beneath you. His cheek rests against the top of your head, his breath tickling your hair, his heartbeat a lullaby only you can hear. Your eyelids grow heavy, and a calmness unlike anything you’ve felt before settles over you.

You've never felt more at peace than you did now.

Just before sleep can pull you two under, Caleb’s arms tighten just a little, holding you closer as if to reassure you that he's here.

”I love you.”

That little whisper was everything you ever ached to hear. You didn't realize it until this very moment.

...

”I love you too.”

And in that shared silence, wrapped together in warmth, you both drifted gently into dreams. In his arms, you feel safe. Loved. Whole.

...

And now?

Now the change you were so scared of — turned out to not be bad at all.

Now It felt — Like home.

[risfics]

title: you're a star, girl.

pairing: jason todd x reader

characters: jason todd, reader, dick grayson (literally has a small cameo).

tags: smut, facesitting, shaking orgasm, squirting, reader is AFAB, doggystyle, creampie.

summary: jason has you sit on his face and grayson catches something in the manor cameras.

a/n: I cannot believe it's been so long since I've posted on this account, omfg, my bio still had 22 years old on it when I'm now 24. Isn't that crazy? I looked through my drafts to see if there was anything worth finishing and posting, and happened to find this beautiful gem.

A lot has changed since I've been gone, so I'll be updating different things.

Anyways, here's a small treat and I hope y'all enjoy it!

xoxo,

Ri.

Jason sits on the floor of his room, his broad back resting against the border of his bed. He watches you, starving, his green eyes giving a barely perceptible glow inside the darkness of his room-a lasting effect from the Lazarus pit.

Moonlight shines through a big, glass window, and you bathe in it while undoing the button of your jeans; you slide them off, pushing the denim to the side with your foot, and make your way towards the big man in front of you. 

Jason's hands shoot up from his side, massaging your thighs, as he looks up towards your face from where he sits You give him a small smile, and bring your hand towards his face, caressing it gently. He leans into your touch for a moment, closing his eyes while exhaling, relaxing. He brings you closer, and lifts his head to leave chaste bites and kisses on your thighs.

His breath brushes across your skin, raising bumps along the way, and you exhale, your back arching slightly. Jason’s hand makes its way to the center of your thighs, gently caressing your core with his fingers that are rough, but so gentle and careful while touching you. Your hips move involuntarily, searching for more friction from him. He lets out a small sound akin to a laugh.  

“You’re so needy today, aren’t you?” He asks, a mischievous smile overtaking his face. His fingers slip under your panties, feeling your slit and its wetness. He lets out a theatrical gasp. “And you’re so wet for me too, oh.” He lets out a laugh while you let out a sound of frustration.

“Jace, stop teasing me, please. Three weeks ago you were on a mission, and then last week my period happened, and now we’re staying at your dad’s house for a family emergency; I’ve been so patient and so good.” You say, a hint of agitation tainting your voice. He sighs, nodding. 

He knows how frustrated you feel; in fact, he’d seen it. Every time he went on an off-world mission, he would check the apartment cameras during downtime, and it’s safe to say that he found you rubbing your clit, fingering yourself, and even dry humping things mercilessly during some of those check ups. He’d been pent up during that time too, rubbing one or two off, talking to you through the camera's microphone, asking you for certain positions, views, and angles. And while that was fun, it wasn’t the same as fucking each other breathlessly in person. 

“Please, Jace.” You plead a second time, your voice small and whimpery. 

With that, he slides your underwear off immediately, not bothering to take it off completely, just keeping it at your feet. His face dives straight for your cunt, his lips grazing your clit, licking it, before engulfing it completely with his mouth. You let out a small squeal, your toes curling as you feel the warmth of his mouth wrap around your bundle of nerves.

His tongue moves back and forth gently, and you move your hips matching his rhythm. You let out small moans, the sounds of him sucking you filling the room; his saliva and your wetness mingled, staining his chin. His pace picks up, and you feel your stomach tighten; you move closer to the bed, your legs somewhat resting against it for balance, while Jason repositions himself under you, using his arms to hold you from behind.

You begin rutting against his mouth, moving at an almost animalistic pace. Your cunt travels from his mouth, to his nose, and back down. He feels himself wetting his briefs, a dark spot forming against his jeans as he expertly takes breaths in the small moments you relent. His nipples become hard, as his skin rises, and one of his rough hands travels slowly to his pants, kneading his impossibly hard and wet bulge.

Groans leave your mouth, and at some point you grip his hair to keep yourself steady. He lets out muffled moans of his own, drunk in your pleasure; getting you off is one of the things that makes him so hard, it makes him feel satisfied, like the overtly obedient priest to a starving, ravishing god.

Suddenly, the knot in your stomach tightens, until it unfurls itself. You let out a loud sound as you hit your climax, shaking, while a small trickle of liquid squirts out of you. You nearly fall over the bed while riding out your climax, if it hadn’t been for Jason's strong hands keeping his grip on you. 

Jason laps up the water coming from you like a man with an unknowable, unquenchable thirst. He feels his bulge ready to burst, his member unfathomably hard, and he knows that the minute he puts himself inside of you he won't last for five fucking minutes. But then again, that's exactly how you like it whenever he makes you cum first.

After the shaking subsides and you feel yourself calm down, Jason places a small kiss against one of your legs and stands up. He comes up behind you, pressing his hard member against you, his jeans rubbing against your ass cheeks. You let out a small smile, and slowly crawl on to the bed, your head resting against his thick, comfortable pillows. You arch your back, separating your legs, as one of your hands reaches for your cunt, spreading it wide open for him to see.

He stares hard at your entrance, the color, and wetness of it beckoning him closer, pulling at him like undeniable gravity. He unbuckles his belt, and does away with his jeans, barely pulling his underwear down.

Jason wants to descend on you like a mad dog, stick it in and out without a human thought running through his mind, but he's too rational, too gentle. He's aware of his size, his thick girth, and the way it can hurt you if he's too rough too quickly. And Jason doesn't want to hurt his baby, no, he wants to savor her, to have her moaning sweet nothings at him and have her coax him into a mind breaking orgasm.

So he grazes the tip of his member against your cunt, slowly, gently rubbing it up and down your folds. He prods the entrance a bit with his head, and he notices your toes curling in anticipation, a small smile taking place on his face. He slips a small portion of it in, and earns a small, sweet whimper from your lips.

And god if it doesn't take everything in him to not push it in completely, but he doesn't want this to end quickly, he needs it to last, needs it to go on for longer. It's been nearly four weeks since you've fucked, and it would make him terribly upset to have it end in a matter of minutes, you have to understand him, he thinks.

He slips it out, groaning in the process, feeling the edges of his self control slowly slip away. You let out a small whine, as if hurt, and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing. He stares at you, your beautiful back, your pussy, your puckered asshole, and he thinks about what a feast he's been given this night.

After what feels like an eternal minute of nothing, Jason comes back again and fully inserts himself this time. He wins himself a loud, choked gasp from you, your tight cunt clenching around him as you let out a groan. He lets out a controlled breath, and slips out completely again, rubbing his dick against your folds before diving back in fully.

You feel his head connect against your cervix, a familiar, and pleasurable pain when he's being gentle and teasing like this. And each time he does it, you gasp, and ram yourself back into his hips. His balls slap against your cunt, and you bite your lips hard at that feeling. He holds your hips, pacing himself, keeping himself controlled, but lets you play with him a bit.

Your back works against his torso, your ass hitting against his pelvis, giving him that much needed friction, and giving yourself that ecstatic sting you so desire. Doggy style has proven to be a bit painful for you, a bit too deep for your enjoyment due to his largeness, but if you're in control, then you've both found it better and fun. He feels you clenching your cunt, the tightness of it inebriating him. His face is sweating, his mouth is slightly agape, and then he slips out completely again.

His strong hands grip your sides and legs as he gently flips you on to your back. You stare up at him, at his beautiful and scarred face. His green eyes go small as he gives you a closed smile, his cheeks flushed, and his forehead is sweaty. You smile back at him, knowing he craves physical closeness now, that he wants the sweet loving he's been missing.

Your hands reach for his face, bringing him down to yours, and your lips catch his in a passionate kiss. Mouths melting together, tongues dancing fervently against one another as he slips in again effortlessly. You feel your cunt filled, expanding at his girth, and you gasp into his mouth. But it's not painful in this position, it's so much better for you this way.

Jason's eyes stay on yours as he thrusts himself inside of you, his balls slapping against your cunt from how deep he is, and you feel your eyes begin to water at the pleasure, at his face clashing against yours, at the kisses.

"I love you so much, Jason." You speak breathlessly as he rams into you, stickiness and sweat keeping you tethered to him. He looks into your eyes, nodding, and placing a kiss on your lips.

"I love you too, s'much, baby." He says, as his gasps are getting louder now, as his pace quickens.

You grip his hair, and bring your mouth close to his ear.

"Come inside me, please, fill me up and make me feel warm from inside." You whimper, and he groans, his eyes closing, his pants growing quicker.

"M'baby, don't-" He begins to say, shaking his head, but you close your legs around his waist, and he whimpers. "Fuuuck," Jason groans feeling himself deeper, feeling as your cunt closes around him willingly. Your hand sneaks its way between your bodies, finding your clitoris, and you start rubbing it as he thrusts deeper in you.

His mind is blank now, all he wants is to leave his seed inside of you, to fill your cunt up with the one thing he shouldn't, but you asked for it, and for the first time he wants to throw caution to the fucking wind. Screw it if your period comes late, if your belly grows-fuck it-it'll be a permanent marker of your love for each other, of him being your man and you being his woman.

He feels his body start to tremble, his arms shaking impossibly hard, and you start moaning loudly now, feeling yourself nearing your own climax at the ministrations of his hips and your merciless fingers' movements.

He shudders loudly, and then lets out a loud moan as he finally climaxes. You feel your cunt become warm as ropes of his cum fill you, and soon after, you feel that little vase of pleasure finally spill all over, crashing down on you and making your body convulse for the second time.

Jason and you are a mess of moans and pants, and you're full of tears as your second orgasm completely overtakes your emotions. He kisses you gently, wipes away the tears, and reminds you that he's here and that you're alright. He loves you, he says. He loves you so much, and he's happy with you.

As you slowly calm down, you stare at him, and you let out a sheepish laugh; you feel embarrassed, shy at your outburst. But it's not the first time, and Jason is used to it by now, and it's something he loves about you; the innate connection between your mind and body. Often, his mind and his body are at odds, pushing and pulling away from one another.

He smiles, and gives you a kiss on your lips.

In the Batcave

Grayson is bored out of his mind flipping through different security channels, landing once again at the one in the manor. He changes from cameras, looking into different rooms, and then comes upon Jason's room.

His eyes grow wide as he watches your shuddering, trembling climax on his brother's face, liquid darting out of your-

He punches the button to change channels, his face completely flushed and a huge grin overtaking him. He laughs, his belly hurting, and then he feels it. The blood rushing from his main head, to his second one. He lets out a long breath, the memories of an impossibly warm someone flooding him.

He looks at his phone to his right.

"I should call her." He sighs. He's been spending so much time in Gotham, away from the Titans tower, covering for his father while he's on some important JLA business trip, that he also hasn't been able to have any fun for a while.

He grabs his phone and dials her number.

"Hello, boy wonder." A sultry voice answers.

"Hi, baby." He greets her, his voice sounding a little breathier than he intends it to. "I miss my stargirl so much." He says, lightly grazing his bulge. A chuckle comes from the other end.

"I can get there in twenty minutes. Don't finish before then." She teases.

"Without you? Never." He smiles to himself and the call ends quickly.

[eldritchtoast]

ROZALIE STEELFORT

Character Bio

Bio

Gender Female [ MtF]

Age 43

Race Tiefling

Height 1,75m

Sexuality Bisexual

Class Sorceress

Background Acolyte

Alignment True Neutral

Deity Bhaal

Weapon Dagger

Voiceclaim Lest [ Arcane ]

Backstory

Being the youngest of two sisters born to wood elf and cambion parents, Rozalie didn’t have as much of a recollection of her biological family as her older sister Elyr does. She vaguely remembered living with her father in their cottage in the woods, but most of those memories are gone by now and more so facts she can recall. After her father was assassinated by a Bhaalist assassin, Roza found herself extremely susceptible to the murder god’s influence, even if she herself didn’t know that was it at the time.

After their father’s passing, both her and Elyr got taken in by a paladin living in a temple of Mielikki near Baldur’s Gate. The sisters lived relatively normally while there, however there was always this strange force in the back of Roza’s mind compelling her to venture into the Shadow Cursed lands. Most times, either Elyr or their guardian would be there to stop her before it was too late, however on one such occasions, no one noticed fast enough and she found herself walking straight into the forest in the direction of Moonrise Towers.

She eventually found herself face to face with Ketheric Thorm. The undead general looked after Rozalie for most of her formative years, using her as a way to cope with the loss of his daughter for the second time. However, Roza knew Moonrise Towers wasn’t her one true purpose, and soon after, she found herself in the cult of Bhaal’s lair underneath Baldur’s Gate, who indoctrinated her into the cult.

Roza found herself living pretty well among cultists, be it because of her hellish ancestry or just her sheer will to survive at all costs, and by the time she reached her early twenties, she was appointed as a head recruiter, prowling the streets for vulnerable people to be taken into Bhaal’s clutches the same way she was. She learnt to be everything her current target needed, be it a mother figure, a support system or an object of desire, which helped her understand how to manipulate people more and more, which in turn allowed her to sink her claws into increasingly powerful targets.

Before she knew it, thirty years since her original disappearance had gone by. She was the cult’s High Priestess and engaged to the chosen of Bhaal himself, the highest position she could achieve while not being a bhaalspawn. And things would have been as perfect as they could get in her situation if it wasn’t for Orin the Dark Urge. After the albino Dragonborn, Roza was the next on the deathbringer’s list.

Left for dead in Moonrise Towers, Roza was found by Ketherick, who wasn’t about to lose a second daughter. She was handed over to Kressa Bonedaughter to be revived and tadpoled, however instead of being sent out on the nautiloid, she stayed in Moonrise Towers, where she conspired her revenge against Orin until Thorm was defeated by a group of tadpoled adventurers, with who she teams up with on the way back to Baldur’s Gate.

Character Ties

The Dark Urge • Love Intrest

Unlike most Bhaalists, Roza decided that a good strategy to get the Bhaalspawn’s favour was to be a meddlesome but necessary thorn on his side. The two were roughly the same age when Roza was welcomed into their ranks, and even though they revealed in screwing over one another for a while, the two eventually grew up to be a very responsible duo looking after different parts of the cult. It wasn’t long before their competition for Bhaal’s favour became their personal banter, after which blossomed their bloody romance. The two eventually got married and had a daughter together, in the days before the plan of the absolute. The Dark Urge worshipped the ground in which Roza walked, and in turn she was just as determined to make sure the child of Bhaal would achieve their full potential.

Enver Gortash • Ally

While Roza loves how she thrives in the underground cult, having someone who is just as much into mind games as she is was a breath of fresh air. Roza and Gortash play a game of cat and mouse with each other where they try to one up the other’s plans at any turn possible. The two of them along with The Dark Urge become a nightmare of a throuple during the days before Orin’s betrayal.

Orin • Sister Figure

When Rozalie arrived to the cult of Bhaal, Orin was already there. She unintentionally took the changeling under her wing, looking after her like she was her little sister. The two were very close, but fell off after Roza became engaged to the Dark Urge due to Orin’s hatred of the Dragonborn. Orin was outraged roza would belittle herself so much, while Roza thought Orin lacked foresight and ambition.

Ketherick Thorm • Father Figure

Out of all parental figures she’s had, Ketherick is the one that shaped Roza the most. The two had a codependency for each other- Roza lacked parental guidance and Ketherick had not gotten over losing Isobel after her resurrection, and so it only made sense the two would find a sort familiar comfort in each other. Ketherick’s death shook up Roza, however she knew her main purpose was to serve Bhaal’s plan, which would eventually lead to his death either ways.

[nineteenninety-six]

Could you write like (you said you could try) idk teenage girl reader, having gone to the er with her friends, one of whom had a wrist sprain , like a group of 4 friends and then boom you’re all going to pittsfest , your injured friends get shot in front of you and you all run, one other gets shot they die on the scene, you lose your other friend, you end up later rushing into the er and looking you’re both okay you rush and hug in the middle of chaos, maybe dans recognise you from earlier "the mom friend" in the group had gum and a charger. You comfort eachother but then your last friend falls, suddenly blood around them. Hours later you’re the last one.

Idk maybe the doctors even mention the case later like it’ll haunt them like maybe all the friends were around 16ish

Idk I want angst with the characters like

TW: Pittfest. m@ss shootings. death. bullet wounds/injuries etc.

AN: Do I like this? No but alas, here it is.

It was the day of Pittfest but instead of enjoying the festival, you and your friends were in the hospital after one of your friends injured themselves, delaying your arrival.

“I just don’t get it,” You say as you gaze at your friend Megan laying in the hospital bed, “How’d you manage to sprain your wrist today of all days?”

Megan doesn’t even look slightly ashamed as she grins at you from her comfortable position, “I just got too excited as I was getting ready earlier, I guess jumping around with your eyes closed while singing along to your favourite song wasn’t the smartest thing to do.”

“Especially considering how messy your room is on a good day, I bet it currently looks like a bomb went off in it.” Elliot chimes in with a roll of their eyes, “I’m surprised you haven’t broken your ankle in that pigsty.”

“It’s not that bad…honestly!” Megan tries to defend herself.

“Whatever you say Megan,” Riley teases before he turns to you, “Have you got your charger? My phone’s almost dead.”

You nod and walk over to your backpack and dig through it to dig out the little portable battery before you hand it over to Riley who thanks you with a smile.

“Do we have any idea how long this is going to take?” Elliot groans as they slump further into their seat, “I’m starving! I should be eating a burger at Pittfest right now!”

You dig through your backpack once again and pull out a foil wrapped sandwich and offer it to Elliot, “I’ve got a turkey sandwich if you want it?”

Elliot jumps out of their seat and swipes the sandwich out of your hand before you even have time to blink and they devour it in a few bites.

“That wasn’t free you know, you’re paying me back with a burger once we get there.” You tell Elliot who nods and gives you a thumbs up as they finish chewing.

Dana and Robby watch the group from the nurse’s station. The privacy curtain around Megan’s bed is pulled back giving them a clear view of everything.

“She’s like the mom of the group.” Dana says as she watches you pull the blanket further around Megan to keep the chill of the AC away.

Robby nods in agreement, “Are they going to Pittfest?”

Dana nods, “Yup. One of them sprained their wrist this morning but they’ll be discharged soon and they’ll be on their way.”

Robby looks at them one last time before he turns away, “She’s a good friend…She’d be a good nurse too.”

Dana smiled, “I thought the same thing.”

You were dancing with Riley, spinning and twirling around to the music coming from the stage, laughing and squealing in joy as you enjoyed your time with your friends.

You were so caught up in having fun that you didn't hear the pops or screams in the distance until the music from the stage suddenly stopped and it was only then did you all hear the gunshots and screams.

Your heart drops to your stomach as you exchange scared looks with your friends before you're grabbing each other's hands and running for safety. You tried to follow the crowd but everyone was in such a panic that everyone was going in different directions.

As you searched for the exit, you let go of each other's hands, finding it easier to run separately.

"We need to find an exit, we're currently running like headless chickens." You pant.

Megan looks around before spotting the flashing lights from the emergency services in the distance,"Over there! Let's go"

You all follow Megan as she darts ahead but she doesn't get far as a shot rings out and Megan collapses on the ground, blood splattering across all of you.

You could only gasp as you looked down at your friend's body, blood pooling around her. You freeze as you look down at your friend and you go numb, until you take a step forward with a scream, crying out Megan's name but a hand pulls you back before you can kneel next to her body.

"We need to go! Now!" Riley shouts as he begins to run, tugging you behind him. Elliot caught up with you and you're sure the panic on his face mirrored yours.

You can't cry, not right now but all you could think about was Megan and how you just left her there.

As you ran for safety all you could see and hear were more people getting gunned down, people getting crushed in the panic, people crying out for their loved ones, it was too much for you. You wanted to stop right where you were and cry your heart out but Riley was still tugging you behind him. Thankfully you were approaching the exit where you'd hopefully be finally be safe but apparently you spoke too soon as another

spray of bullets rang out downing a swathe of people, including you and your friends.

Your abdomen burns and as you touch the burning area, blood soaks your hands and you realise you've been shot.

"Oh fuck" You sob, "Oh fuck no. Please not me…”

Gurgling to the side of you pulls your attention and when you look towards the sound, you wish you hadn't. It was Elliot. He was choking on his own blood as he stared at you with wide scared eyes and all you could do is cry as you slowly watched another of your friends die. In an attempt to comfort him one last time you reached over and took his hand in yours and gave it a squeeze.

Once Elliot's grip eventually loosened, you gently pulled your hand from his and painfully pulled yourself up to your feet and stumbled away, all while crying. You had no idea where Riley was but your current focus was getting out and getting help.

You stumbled towards the flashing lights, covered in blood and crying. EMTs rush towards you and load you into an ambulance, treating you as it rushed towards PTMC.

Your injury wasn't major enough to have you rushed to surgery once you arrived at the hospital, so you're waiting to the side until all the major patients are treated for an OR to be freed.

You had lost your phone in the madness and one of the lovely nurses had contacted your parents for you but they had warned you in advance that it would be a while until you would see them, so you settled on people watching.

You could see yourself in everyone you saw. You saw people completely spaced out in shock, some crying, all covered in blood and bruises. Everyone here lost something that day, whether it was someone they loved or a part of themselves, or both.

A stuttered call of your name catches your attention and you look over to find Riley standing at the end of your bed, just about able to support himself. He looked absolutely wrecked.

"Riley! "You lunge towards him before the excruciating pain of your injury brings back against the bed, "Oh my God, Riley..."

Riley lets out another whimper of your name before he collapses to the ground and all you could do is watch as he's swarmed by doctors and nurses and rushed away.

You were numb to it all as you watched Riley disappear around the corner. Two of your friends were killed in front of you and you had no idea of the fate of the last one.

All around you were people who were in the exact same boat as you. Many were mourning loved ones, crying in pain due to their injuries or are to the shock of it all. No one would be leaving here unscathed, including the workers at the hospital.

Soon you were brought into your own surgery, not knowing that when you wake up, your whole world would come crashing down around you, with the worst news you

could wish for that day.

Robby cracked open the can of beer with a heavy tired sigh. All he wanted to do was finish the beer, go home, have a hot shower and sleep for fourteen hours but the whole evening kept replaying in his head. He especially couldn't stop thinking of the group of teens that appeared earlier that day.

"What's on your mind, brother?" Jack nudges him from his position next to Robby.

With all the eyes of the people in the group on him, Robby begins to tell the tragic story.

"A kid came in earlier, sprained their wrist and their whole friend group was with them, four of them altogether. They were going to Pittfest afterwards. They were all excited, no older than sixteen, maybe seventeen..."

"What happened?" Samira pressed.

"All but one died." Robby muttered.

Everyone's mood darkened, brows furrowing and lips pouting.

"Two of them died in front of them at Pittfest, the last one collapsed in front of her, and died in surgery."

"Damn..." Donnie muttered, Princess nodding in agreement.

"Poor kid." Abbot shook his head, the day somehow getting worse.

"How do you even heal from that?" Victoria wonders out loud, "One moment, all of your friends are alive and you're having the time of your life and then next thing you know,all of them die in front of you and now you're alone."

"You don't. Not really." Abbot answers, "A lot of therapy and patience but it doesn't really fix or solve anything."

"Poor kid." Samira sighs, eyes watering at the thought of the poor teen.

"You can say that again." Robby huffs before downs his beer before he stands from the park bench. "G'night. I'll see you whenever!"

Abbot watched him leave knowing that he'll have to check in with him the next day, the day was already bad and long enough but adding the mass casualty was just the very unwanted cherry on top.

[thelambthatkilledthewolf]

If Jon and Elias weren't Jon and Elias, I would probably ship them. However, as it stands, Jon and Elias are, in fact, Jon and Elias, so I cannot ship them

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 6!!!

[swampsandsagebrush]

Currently watching season 3 of House and all I can say is that I really fucking hate cops.

[crookedchopshopkingdom-blog]

I know you not coming into the mix with the wrong info. What’s so vile and affronted. When I was talking about trauma bonding and codependency, this was in regards to an earlier part of this conversation when I stated the “found family” does not have a good foundation to start with because the TBs have not bonded on anything more than shared trauma so far but that doesn’t mean it can’t improve. Based on the movie, what else indicates the TBs like each other because they were arguing back and forth until that hug. I need both of these posters to actually look more into what trauma bonding and codependency can look like in a friendship group because you guys do not know enough.

Speaking of messed up, to downplay Bucky breaking Zemo out of prison as nothing because it served no purpose in incredible. As per your words, the Wakandans expressed hurt by the breakout, Bucky risked his pardon by doing it and it served no actual positive outcome so all of that was for no reason and a pisspoor decision. Almost every character did not appreciate seeing Zemo out and expressed that opinion.

In Black Panther, it is displayed several times that Shuri and the Dora Miljae have their own minds and are supposed to be treated as extensions of the king. The role of the king is unique to Wakanda so how the king operates is different especially since the king is the Black Panther so has that role to consider as well. Once again, I never said Bucky owed life long loyalty to the people who disconnected the triggers for him but some consideration on the one big fault that ended with their previous king dead. What’s so hard to imagine doing the one thing that might get people upset about? The way you guys talk about Tchalla and the wakandans reek with something that I won’t say because I know how you guys get.

Bucky did not work with John at the end of the episode, John was helping save the truck. A quick nod of thanks doesn’t make them cool. Staying on a team because you feel like you CONTRIBUTE to the team is not the same as staying on the team because Bucky connected to the people and care for them. Nothing was fixed with the shield, he took the shield from John and peaced out. Not every person you meet you have to be friends with. Are you friendly with all your coworkers/ classmates even the ones you had bad interactions with and the problems were solved?

That advice from Sam was not victim blaming. The entire context was Bucky is not the winter soldier and should not apologize however if Bucky feels some kind of obligation or responsibility and needs to talk to these people then just get to know the good parts. Sam initially stated having a list of the victims names and family is triggering but you guys don’t hear anything other than negativit

Also, another way that you guys are showing your lack of cultural knowledge asses, the cookout isn’t the same as a meal at a restaurant. Please tell me how none of the end scenes with Bucky at the cookout how could be perceived as anything other than connections and relaxation. They forced the smiles on Sebastian Stan for those scenes, what would be the purpose? What the initial complaint was the fans saying Bucky “finally” found people he connected with as if he wasn’t able to do that before. The issue isn’t Bucky having other friends.

“But he called him the winter soldier” Sam also called Bucky “Buck” and the first time, Bucky was quick to tell him not to call him that. Sam called Bucky “Buck” in the cameo and no pushback. Calling him Buck was on purpose to show how their relationship grew. Damn, that “I love you buddy” must mean something else for you guys. Even Bucky stopping his campaign tour to go see Sam because he heard what happened to Joaquin and knew that was triggering. Man, what a way to pander to Sam fans bringing in a non plot related character that to show Sam support and highlight a bond. Nope the only point was Bucky, I guess.

If the advice was the same as Dr Raynor, why didn’t the same people talk about that as a negative. Honestly, I stopped caring about this conversation because I realize the other person was not using sound arguments and placing up their own arguments rather than read what I wrote. You are doing the same but I have enough energy for you. Random capslock is cool but when it’s emphasizing a point that I already mentioned and said the same thing, all that does is reiterate you did not read my words in good faith. Both of you guys have called me names or harmful descriptors while I have not. So saying I have crashed out in some particular way is hilarious.

After this I will stop responding to this post unless some really wild stuff is said. You may use this as a pseudo victory and post how I will wrong blah blah blah because I couldn’t defend against the abuse accusations blah blah blah. However,it’s simply due to these being fictional characters. I made my points and opinions on how I feel so have you guys and we are at an impasse. Great.

Sam Stans just can't stop with the self owns. This one @crookedchopshopkingdom-blog tried telling me the Bucky's Thunderbolts relationship with the Thunderbolts is based on "trauma bonding".

They tried to tell an actual real living abuse survivor what trauma bonding is- and got it spectacularly wrong. They tried to say Bucky identifying with other abused and traumatised people and wanting to help them is "trauma bonding"

Trauma bonding actually refers to the relationship between a victim and abuser based on a cyclical pattern of abuse and positive reinforcement.

Bucky isn't abusing the Thunderbolts. Nor they him. It's not a trauma bond. Nor is it codependent.

Sam Stans are literally just so desperate to justify thier toxic ship and deflect attention away from the mass temper tantrum over Bucky getting his own team that they're looking for any excuse to present the team's relationship as negative.

This is literally the kind of thing my abuser did. Saying my friendships were bad for me so she could keep me socially isolated and dependent on her. It's literally what they're saying to justify thier abusive, narcissitic and possessive conception of Sam. In which Bucky isn't allowed to "stray" or have any other friendships.

It's sad. It's projection. It's insane.

Also go see Thunderbolts if you haven't already. If you have go see it again with a friend. Sam Stans are crowing about it being a flop and their favorite toxic ship winning.

[smallnico]

nobody asked but i want everyone to know that when i draw karlach doing a happy tail thrash, it's stimming. i'm drawing her happy flapping. i'm not trying to compare karlach to a dog (or, rather, i'm not trying to condescend to her or minimize her pain or awareness or intelligence). i think everyone knows she's got big feelings and she's a very physically emotive and fidgety person (we've all seen her little dance) so it just makes sense to me that she would vent her excitement physically somehow.

also it's what i would do if i had a tail. i'm stuck using my hands lmao

[solsticat]

Yes! I was gonna say, the biggest difference between the two is Ax's sense of honor. It's not that Rachel isn't honorable, but she has different values. Rachel cares very deeply, about the people she loves and even people she doesn't know, and that comes out as protectiveness that turns extremely aggressive. She's straightforward with it, and Rachel has very little patience for hand-wringing and moralizing. It's the cause of most of her clashes with Cassie, but at the end of the day she appreciates that Cassie is necessary to keep them all in check and she loves Cassie dearly. Rachel has a very clear sense of right and wrong that is completely internal- she listens to Jake and Cassie because she recognizes it's a necessary part. Ax's morals are a lot more driven by Andalite culture, which inherently uplifts itself as superior. I think that some of their moral code is more based around doing what sounds good, to keep seeming honorable, than doing what's right because it's right. See the butchering of the Hork Bajir- Alloran's actions are technically condemned, but only because it would be hard for the Andalite government to spin genocide as a positive thing. It's more about optics than actual harm to the Hork Bajir. Ax starts deconstructing the beliefs he's been brought up with as time goes on, but he starts the series with a very strong view that one's honor is the absolute most important thing, more so than staying alive. (Does anybody else see the Andalite's as imperial Japan or is that me?) Rachel is a strong, dedicated, warrior like he is, but she is dishonorable. She fights dirty. I suspect for him, Rachel can represent a part of humanity that scares him.

Also I can't believe no one has brought up that scene from #22 yet. It seems pretty clear why Rachel would've stayed behind to watch David. It's dirty work, and Rachel is always the one who does the dirty work. She recognizes that the others wouldn't be able to, and she protects them, especially Cassie, from having to grapple with the nastiest consequences of the plan they chose. Why Ax needed to be there is less clear, and I so wish we had gotten his POV at some point during the David trilogy. Everybody else could have left Rachel to do it alone (actually, I quite easily could see it having been Rachel and Tobias watching David instead of Rachel and Ax. I might need to reread 22 to get a better idea of why it wasn't Tobias). Ax stays there with her, and they bear one of the Animorphs' worst sins together. They do have a few great moments together. But Rachel wants to trust her teammates, and probably never fully understands why Ax is so hesitant to open up. And Ax doesn't want to acknowledge the ways in which they are similar.

For other pairs in response to the question, Cassie and Ax come to mind as well. I don't think Cassie has much against Ax in particular, aside from his various Problematic Andalite Takes, but Ax definitely resents Cassie for her moralizing and particularly her sympathy to the yeerks.

If you're going to talk about Animorphs that weren't as close as they could be, Ax was always going to be one of them. As the series progresses, he starts trying a bit more to open up, but he never reaches the same place of understanding that I'd say the. I also think Ax is the character who's the least developed in terms of who they were before the war. We know that he misses his mom and dad, that he's a little self conscious about living up to his big brother's legacy . Part of this is probably because he's the only Animorph we never see interact with his family and pre-war loved ones (outside of like one phone call). But for me at least, it still feels a little harder to see Ax as a fully developed character than the rest of them, and I kinda imagine the other Animorphs might've felt that way at times too.

who do you think in the animorphs ended up still being the least close to each other? because obviously a lot of them are best friends, jake and marco, cassie and rachel, tobias and ax, and some of them are dating etc but which pairing do you think never really developed/got closer? or do you think by the end of the series they were all as close to each other as they could be?

To me, the two that stand out as being the least close, and staying that way, are Rachel and Ax. They mention discomfort with each other as early as #5, and Rachel's narration in #7 specifies that she's glad Ax is fighting with them but isn't sure if he's their friend. As late as #51, Ax considers Rachel a potential threat to the Animorphs' cause and goes out of his way to avoid trusting her.

In MM3 and in #37, Rachel's pretty snappish with Ax as she tries to lead the team, because she senses (correctly) that he doesn't respect her as leader nearly as much as he does Jake. In #18, Rachel is the harshest toward Ax about his decision to support the andalites over his own team, and in #46 Ax mentions being worried about Rachel more than any other Animorph.

Part of why I find their friction fascinating: it originates in their being so alike. They're the ones eager for battle at the start of the war, Ax because he's been raised on tales of Elfangor's glory and Rachel because she's champing at the bit of being feminine without being small or weak. They get their hands dirtiest throughout, from together killing the random Hessians in MM3 to advocating for wiping out the nartec in #36. It all culminates when Rachel makes the most brutal kill (Tom) and Ax makes the single largest (the Pool ship) during the final battle. Rachel sees her own darkness reflected back when she looks at Ax, and Ax sees his in Rachel. They're a dangerous combination, hijacking airplanes and boiling noncombatants alive to get their way. And they both need Tobias around to keep them sane.

[just-1other-nerd]

I don't know who needs to hear this but you don't need to beat yourself up over the fact that you're thinking about stuff like a camp Halfblood au of your ocs instead of "actually working" on your wip.

I actually encourage you to think those thoughts through!

Let them run around freely in your head because when they come to a halt you might just have learned something about your characters, their dynamics and their world, you may even find the solution to that plothole or the answer to that question that has plagued you.

Imagine your character's future to find out how they would act in a different phase of their lives so that you can write their present self in a way that leads to this future self. Think about what music your high fantasy character would listen to if they were in a coffee shop au. Figure out what Hogwarts house your ocs would be sorted in and if their relationships would change or stay the same. Create that alternate timeline where the best friends are on opposite sides and think about the consequences this would have for the world around them. Age up your characters just for fun and see where that takes you. Think about memes that a future fanbase could make about your work like a "[insert wip name] but as vines" YouTube video. Decide who of your ocs would say what if you see one of those fake quote posts or textpost memes on here.

All of that is information and context, all of this association helps you get a grip of that idea in your head, it helps you get a feeling of who your characters are, what your world is and what your story needs and wants to be. If you don't put pressure and restrictions on yourself and allow yourself to explore stuff freely without wanting results you often get them anyways, that's part of the creative process.

[bidokja]

genius archer's streaming is actually a much more fun read than i was expecting and handles the disability aspect better than i thought it would

[transmasc-tabris]

Anyway

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

why didn't they just use franziska for literally all of this.

[duskerot]

Hey… Do you know the song sung by the voice actor from the pilot Hazbin Hotel? Called Thank you and goodnight. Weirdly this song reminds me of Mystic Messenger, despite being a new fan and having been into this game until this year 2024 I already felt a connection, seeing old posts about this game from an old fan somehow makes me tear up. Despite I'm a fan of 2024, I somehow feel nostalgic about this game despite never actually experience it before

i don't actually, i've never seen hazbin :0 i just looked up the lyrics tho and i see what you mean!

absolutely no shame being a "new" fan, actually i'm really happy to hear new people are finding the game in 2024 !! i first downloaded it in 2016 and only recently redownloaded it last year for the nostalgia actually :') it's silly but this game and others by the same devs actually mean a lot to me lol

[tbaluver]

GAME OVER!- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader, caleb x fem! reader summary: the lads men try to get your attention when you're busy playing a video game genre: smut a/n: hihi lovelies! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ if you're the anonnie that requested something similar to this im so sorry but i may or may not have accidentally read it too fast and did not realize you wanted this as a headcanon .·°՞(¯□¯)՞°·. but im working on making a headcanon version for this one! anyways enjoy reading ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

tags: mentioning of nipple play and fingering

you lost.

you lost the moment his fingers hooked onto your clit.

this wasn’t the usual way he’d get your attention. usually, he’d curl up beside you, his head resting in your lap, gazing up until you gave in with a gentle pat or pulled him closer. 

no, this time was different. he was clearly getting frustrated by how much the game was getting more of you than he was.

“xavier..” you murmur, only to get a hum in return from him. his hand slips beneath the hem of your shirt, and his fingers brush the smooth skin of your stomach. you lean your head back slightly, resting it against his chest. your mouth nearly parts as he moves further up when he notices your eyes remain fixed on the screen.

his fingers roll your nipple between his fingers. a flicker of amusement tugs at his lips when he catches the way you fumble in your game. it was enough to give you away and only encourages him to keep going.

you bite your lips in frustration. you were so close to reaching your goal, only to slip at the last second. but it’s hard to stay upset when his fingers teasingly drag back down to your body and slip in between your shorts.

you tried. you tried to keep your eyes locked on the screen for as long as you can manage but you eventually slip. you let your head rest against his chest, letting him stroke and rub at your clit in delicious patterns, making your grip on the controls loosen.

xavier watches the way your eyes flutter shut and you breathe heavily as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. as much as he’s fascinated by the sound and the way your cunt takes him in so easily, the sound of your character dying on the screen catches his attention for a second.

a small bright idea pops up in his head. he picks up the controller with his free hand and effortlessly guides your character through the round you were struggling with one hand.

this earns a whine from you from the loss of contact from him and he was quick to press open mouth kisses on the bare side of your neck. his growing bulge presses against your back.

“now that i helped you..can you help me?” 

Zayne:

tags: mentioning of kneading your breasts, nipple play and fingering

you’d think by now you’d know not to ignore a doctor’s orders—especially when that doctor is your boyfriend.

you were so locked into your game that you canceled everything outside of it. zayne’s voice barely registered to you—questions, little comments, and even a suggestion to take a break. nothing. not even when he reminded you to sit up so your shoulders and back wouldn’t ache later. all to get the same distracted hum as your eyes stay glued to the screen.

a shift on the bed behind you made you aware of him again. he lets out a quiet sigh as his hands find your shoulders, guiding you into a better position. zayne makes quick work, his fingers expertly finding the spots that had gone stiff from sitting too long without support.

you shift beneath his hands, stretching slightly as you lean into his touch. the subtle reaction doesn’t go unnoticed making him quirk a brow. “if that was sore..” he murmurs. “then perhaps you’re aching somewhere else too?”

his hands slide a little lower as he pulls you closer, his hands slipping inside the hem of your shirt. you’d be lying if you were to say you weren’t heating up when his hands found their way to your breasts. his thumb drags slowly over the pebbled nipple before kneading them both slowly.

zayne never fails to miss a thing, even if it were the smallest reaction. he catches the subtle twitch of your thighs, the way your grip on the controllers falters, your thumbs moving just a little slower than before. a quiet inhale escapes him. “i see..” he murmurs.

one hand stays latched onto your breasts while his other moves down to your waist before dipping into the waistband of your panties. he watches how his fingers slowly disappear when his fingers press against your clit, circling around the swollen bud.

“z-zayne..” you whined, grinding your hips into his palm. the screen you’d been so focused on becomes a blur in an instant as your eyes slowly flutter shut, a gasp slipping past your lips as you arch into him.

the pace he’d been building up begins to slow slightly, drawing a soft whine from your lips. you lean back further into his chest, searching for him with desperate eyes. 

“now, won’t you be a good girl and listen?”

Rafayel:

tags: eating you out

it was amusing to watch you get hot and bothered just by a simple touch of his.

what could be more entertaining about a video game when he’s right there? you didn’t even bother to reply to most of the things he said. or the way you didn’t even notice the way he crossed his arms, puffed out his cheeks and pouted in front of you.

with a small hmph, he shifted his attention elsewhere, deciding two can play that game. he flopped down in between your legs, his hair tickling over your skin.

it starts with a small innocent kiss on your inner thigh that leads to another and more which doesn’t go unnoticed by you. he inches in closer, letting his hair brush against your soft skin. each one a little further up and a little bolder. it was as if he was a dried-out fish and the ocean was calling him.

“cutie..” he murmurs teasingly, drawing your attention just enough to make you glance at him over your controller. without a word, you lift your hips, letting him slip your shorts down. now it was only the thin material that separated you both. actually, it was that stupid game and the thin material separating him from you.

you knew how clingy rafayel could be—it was one of the things you found adorable about him. you’d promised yourself you’d give him your full attention the moment you beat your game. but every passing minute only made it more frustrating.

what you hadn’t expected was how far he’d go to get your attention—not that you were complaining. if anything, you were starting to realize that you needed some way to release this pent-up frustration.

he licks a long stripe from your fold up to your clit, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, making you gasp. you taste divine, rafayel thinks. your fingers are almost sliding off the buttons and your grip on the controller barely hangs on when he spreads your legs a little bit more to dip the tip of his tongue inside you.

it only takes a few thrusts with the top of his tongue before he hears you moan and in his head, he knows that he has already won.

Sylus:

tags: fingering

“winners finish”

those words echo in your mind as you watch the big red ‘DEFEAT’ flash across your screen again. he clicks his tongue, tauntingly. “aw. that’s too bad.”

he slips his fingers out, earning a whine from you. one by one, he savors the sweet rich taste of your arousal to his lips. he’s never letting you finish after a loss-- not when you weren’t paying attention to him. 

and with the way he’s distracting you, you’re not even sure you can win. you were already struggling to finish your game before you stopped paying attention to him for a split second and now, now it’s nearly impossible.

“go ahead. finish your little game, sweetie,” he whispers lowly in your ear, his hot breath against your skin, sending that familiar heat traveling back down to the lower half of your body. your legs were wide apart, your panties pooling down to your legs while your back against his chest. 

a new round of the game starts. this time, the sounds of the game faded into the background—ironically, just like how you tuned him out a few minutes ago. but now, your focus was entirely on him and the way his fingers expertly work their way around your clit.

a wicked smirk curls on his lips as soft whimpers of his name leave your lips when you feel his fingers slide up to circle your clit, rubbing over it. “that’s right,” he whispers teasingly into your ear. and you know damn well that he’s not encouraging you about the game at all, especially when you think you got back into the rhythm of the game.

or so you thought. his wet fingers drag against your folds before dipping back to your fluttering weeping cunt. sylus doesn’t even need to look at the screen to know you’re losing. with the way you’re trembling with the controls, tells him everything.

his fingers sink further inside you as you clench tightly around him, your hips matching the pace. your eyes struggle to stay locked on the screen, after countless failed attempts, you’ve grown desperate. your grip on the controls loosened, leaving your character on the screen on idled as you melt deeper into him. 

you lean back further into his chest, head tilting up to meet his lustful eyes, lips parted as shaky breaths escape you. one look is all it takes for him to surrender.

his two digits drag in and out of you and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to roll back. the little pants turn into a final gasp that slips past your lips as you ride out your high on his fingers. this time he lets you have it. he lets you win. after all, he’s already won many times.

Caleb:

tags: cockwarming

“how about you let me help you?”

- 

bad ideas. one after another. you didn’t think much of it when he suggested there was no need for an extra chair when you can just sit on his lap so you both can share the desk. 

you barely even registered the things he said after that, his encouraging comments, his teasing questions, that were meant to pull your attention from the game. you were so wrapped in the screen that you failed to notice the small frown tugging at the corner of his lips. or how you definitely didn’t notice how much you kept shifting on his lap, unintentionally making him hard.

-

this was not your idea of help at all, but you weren’t exactly complaining.

you can feel caleb’s cock twitching inside of you as you continue to play. caleb suggested this would be better. that the game would be easier when he’s deeply buried in your cunt to help keep you steady while you play.

you shift on his lap ever so slightly, making sure to not rock against him. you want to move so badly, desperate for some more friction. you feel so full, so full of him that warm precum dripped out of your soaking cunt.

or so you thought. your breath would hitch, your fingers on your keyboard coming to a halt whenever he would lean forward, hitting just a little more deeper in you.

“hey, c’mon pipsqueak what’re you doing?” he murmurs. “let’s finish this together, alright?” and you’re not sure if he’s talking about the game anymore. “keep going. i got you,” there’s a faint hitch in his voice, his warm breath ghosting over the bare skin of your neck.

his large hand settles on top of your shaky hand, guiding your fingers across the buttons. the other moves further up your inner thigh. your arousal is growing further, both your heart rate slowly picking up.

he’s trying so hard but he just can't. he felt so warm inside of you and it didn’t help whenever you would clench around him. he lets out a pathetic groan, filling you up with his seed. his hand on your falters, messing up the entire gameplay.

he quietly pants behind your shoulder before leaving soft kisses. you could hear him softly groan when you feel him becoming harder inside you again.

“sorry pipsqueak, guess we gotta start over huh?”

ʚɞ cr. for the dividers @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ 𝘕𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯:

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! The Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2

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