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liabugs · 3 days ago
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how do you think the boys would be with an mc who's like deathly scared of sex, like she wants it but is so terribly frightened of it :( like she can cuddle and kiss them but she gets scared when things get sexual :(
I have so many asks in my inbox but this one caught my eye :3
This took kinda a dark turn in zayne's + Caleb's so tw for dubcon/noncon, not proof read
CW: fam!reader (she/her pronouns used) male masturbation, making out, pantie stealing (?) baby trapping, use if 'gege' (Caleb's) let me know if I missed any đŸ©·
Dividers by @/v6que and @/anitalenia!!
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Xavier — à­šà­§
Xavier would never force you into doing anything that you're not comfortable with. He wouldn't be pushy at all. When you're ready, he's ready. But that doesn't mean he doesn't get blue balls when you make out with him :(
Your lips moving perfectly against his, his tongue caressing yours... His hands on your hips.. But it's all gone when he starts to lose his resolve and grinds his hips against yours. You pull away, Xavier mentally cursing himself for getting ahead of himself and ruining the moment.
So when he leaves your place somewhere around 10:30 pm after finishing a movie, the moment he steps into his apartment he rushes to his room to relieve himself.
He thinks about how your cunt would feel wrapped around his length, so warm and tight. Pumping his cock in his fist, pre cum seeping from his slit. He can't help but cum moaning your name.
Rafayel — à­šà­§
Rafayel can be needier than most, but he always puts your comfort before his. He loves you to the point where just having your presence around him is enough to satisfy him.
So the first time you get intimate with him is very cute! Playfulness and teasing all around. Rafayel takes a more wholesome approach to things, making sure to praise you the way you deserve.
Feather light kisses, giggling and other wholesome things to lighten up the mood. Because there's one thing Rafayel doesn't want you feeling when being intimate with him, that being scared.
Zayne — à­šà­§
Zayne is totally fine with you not being comfortable being intimate with him. He's a busy guy, so chased kiesses and cute dates work fine. At least that's what you see on the outside.
On the inside, he is raging with sexual frustration. He does a good job of hiding it though, taking cold showers to get rid of his sexual tension. It gets to a point where cold showers aren't cutting it anymore.
And before he knows it, he's using the spare key to you apartment. He's going through your underwear drawer, he tries to rationalize his actions. But the way you cute black lace panties feel around his cock overpowers any sanity he has left.
And if you found out? Could you really blame him? You make it hard not to loose control of his usually composed demeanor.
Sylus — à­šà­§
Sylus is nothing if not patent. The time will come when you will get over your fears, the time will come when you crave him in every way he craves you.
And when that time comes, you will share the same longing Sylus has felt for lifetimes. Sylus is nothing if not gentle. Slow, soft and sensual. His hands moving all over your body, his lips fitting perfectly with yours.
He loves the way you look at him, unsure, hesitant... He loves when your face contorts in pleasure, when you realize that there was nothing to be fearful of. He loves when you depend on him for pleasure, because he's the only one you can make you feel good.
He's the only one who can make you see stars when you give him your everything.
Caleb — à­šà­§
Caleb knows your scared, it's okay, he only wants the best for you. And the best thing for you is to go dumb on his cock and take his seed. Let him knock you up, he knows it's scary. But when he fucks his baby into you, everything will be okay, you'll be safe.
He'll make sure of it, you trust him right? His pipsqueak trusts her gege to make the right choice for her? Ssh ssh it's okay I know baby, just take it... Just focus on how good it feels. As he pumps his hot load into you, tears streaming down your face.
He would kiss your tears away and tell you how good you were for him, he would apologize for hurting you... He was just doing what's in your best interest, you can forgive him right?
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prettyboykatsuki · 1 day ago
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MY LOVE, MY ALIBI | CALEB | XIA YIZHOU (LNDS)
♡ tags ; psuedocest / adoptive incest, afab + fem!reader, minor age-gap (3 years), mentions / non graphic depictions of child abuse (from readers days in the orphanage), childhood crushing, mutual pining, developing relationship, size difference, some religious imagery, loss of virginity, petnames (baby, princess, pipsquak), use of meimei once and gege a few times but very sparing, oral (f!recieving), nipple play, marking, light masochism from reader, mouth-spitting, fingering, bare-backing, 18+
♡ wc ; 23.3k (kill me)
♡ a/n ; hey. this is an incest fic for adoptive siblings. if that makes you uncomfortable, don't read it. block me if you need to. please spare me lecture.
also - i have reader be carried by caleb a couple of times but dude has a bionic arm so he's strong as shit to me. the size difference tag is mostly about his dick. aside from the carrying there is no phyiscal indicators for reader
important to the fic but i play in simplified cn. please go listen to the simplified cn voice actor before you read this. for my sanity. most of my characterization is based on various cn translations from the kind cn fanbase. special thank you to mao @/yinyuedijun and this yt channel.
♡ synopsis ; for as long as you can remember, the sight of caleb's back is whats made you feel safest. it's no surprise that every man that comes after him never quite measures up.
extended authors note. | caleb playlist | ao3 | tipjar
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PART ONE: ANYTHING YOU SAY CAN AND WILL BE HELD AGAINST YOU.
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At seven, you knock out one of your teeth roughhousing with one of the orphanage boys. 
The good news? You’re winning. You’re at the age where size matters more than gender but the boy you’re fighting is both bigger and older than you. 
Even so, you manage to pull off shoving him back.
You don’t know his name, only his face— buzzed head and red gums, the pristine picture of anger. You roll around with him in the small stretch of yard behind the orphanage - white tanktop stained with grass, all knobby knees and short limbs as you fight and fight and fight with every ounce of your strength. 
You are seven with something to prove and a lot already lost. Your pride refuses to let you lose further. You recieve a hit of adrenaline when you launch the top of your head into the older boys chin and hear his teeth clack from how hard it lands. He collapses in a pile, spits curses he learned from the grown-ups that come in and out as he lays there.
He nearly jumps you when you’re both down. Your head is throbbing where his chin connected and you can tell if he decides to fight you again, your chances of winning have slimmed significantly.
You see it in his eyes. In his face. He’s so angry. Always is. You knew it was a bad idea to provoke him to begin with. 
He nearly, nearly jumps you and almost knocks you out completely. 
So you decide it might be better to prepare for it. You fold up. Put your arms up high and brace for impact when a shadow - long, endless, casts over your head. Eyes half open, a familiar pair of beat-up sneakers stand in front of you in the grass. You hear a familiar voice. It’s colder than you’re used to.
“Bullying a little kid is lame,” Caleb says, sharp. It makes you shrink further even though it’s not directed at you. “Quit fighting or I’ll get one of the grown-ups.” 
You can’t see what's in front of you. You only hear a shock of gasps around you—another confrontation that quickly settles into silence before Caleb turns around. 
His face is soft as he bends down to be eye level. Kind, boyish, gentle - he opens up his arms. He’s not happy about something. You can tell because his smile is a little dimmer than normal. You desperately hope it isn’t because of you. 
Even knowing Caleb is going to scold you a bit, you find yourself welling up in tears from relief even over fear. You wail as you wrap your arms around his neck and Caleb hoists you up and carries you on his hip like you’re still a baby.
He’s silent as he carries you into the house. 
“You shouldn’t get into fights,” He says, soothing. You sniffle as he walks you inside. His shirt smells like summer, hands fisted in it. Holding on for dear life.  Call for me next time.” 
Caleb sits you on the mattress, in the room all the older kids share. Your feet don’t touch the ground as he kneels in front of you and rifles around under his bed. He has bandages and alcohol, cotton swabs and gauze. 
His eyes are kind as he assesses your wounds. Pours alcohol onto a cotton pad and frowns each time you sniffle and sob from the pain of getting them cleaned. “A crybaby like you shouldn’t fight anyone, seriously.” 
“Shut up,” You say first. You hang your head low, instant regret. Your hands close again, blunt nails digging into your palms. Your lower lip trembles. Caleb quickly puts a hand on the top of your head when he notices your distress. “I’m sorry.” 
“It’s okay. Just depend on me, alright?” He grins with the same front tooth missing. Like a mirror image of you, you think. “I’ll always help you.” 
__
At ten, you give up celebrating your birthday. 
You’re the age Caleb was when you met and now you’ve both left the orphanage and lived away from it for a few years. You’ve spent nearly three years with a woman you call Grandma and the world feels a lot kinder with her in your life. She takes good care of you. Gives you a warm bed to sleep in, and good food to eat. Doesn’t get angry when you break cups or get up in the middle of the night to go pee.
You live in a house with only three people and you even get to have your own room—one you don’t have to share, not even with Caleb. It’s nice to sleep where there’s no one else, even if most nights you crawl into Caleb’s bed anyway and sleep next to him because it's more comfortable.
Grandma is nice to you. Sometimes, she looks like she’s somewhere far away but it never lasts for long. You’re thankful to her for taking you in. 
You have a warm bed to sleep in, good food to eat, and Caleb is right next to you. He’s your brother now, so you can be together forever. And none of the adults from the orphanage are here to punish him anymore when he tries to protect you. 
You’re ten and the world seems to be trying its best not to hurt you any further. Somehow, this only makes you feel more uneasy. 
You’re happy. It scares you. You often wonder when someone will punish you for it. If someone will be blamed for allowing it. It makes you feel helpless when you think about it too long. 
But you have Caleb. He makes it easier. You can cling onto his shirt when it gets too hard. And he’s older now, enough to really feel grown up. 
A night, when you clutch the fabric until it stretches wide, trembling after you’re plagued by bad dreams - having nightmares of rusted rain, Caleb is there. 
No matter how deeply asleep, he always wakes up to hold you. 
( You wait for him to tell you that you’re too big to be getting scared over nightmares, but the day still hasn’t come. You hope it never does. You think you’d be so sad you would never stop crying. )
You’re ten, and the world seems kinder - but you know better by now. You try to take precautionary measures against letting it take everything from you again. 
And you start small. With yourself, and your birthday. 
You’ve only ever celebrated a few birthdays. In the orphanage they’d celebrate a lot at once, so it never felt very  special. You can’t really remember the ones you had before then, don’t remember much from then at all.  Since you’ve been adopted, Grandma has celebrated your birthday and made it special. She and Caleb cook your favorite meal together and you sit around and cut-cake afterwards. 
They even decorate the house with balloons and streamers.
Your birthdays now don’t compare to the ones you had then. 
Nothing bad is happening but still. You like celebrating your birthday. But, can you feel okay about getting to celebrate a birthday at all? When you thought for sure your life might end before then?
Before your eleventh birthday, you announce to your family that you don’t want to do anything special this year. When they probe you with questions about why not, you refuse to give up any answers.
Caleb is thirteen and heartbroken when he hears you say this. Asks questions even as you turn your nose up and refuse to answer. You get into a fight about it, one of the very first of your entire relationship. 
It’s that same night you begin to sleep in your own room. 
In the weeks leading up to your birthday, you find your house to be more quiet than usual. Caleb is busy with something but you blame yourself for the distance between you. He always comes back seeming tired. Even though he still pats your head and smiles at you the same way, you notice when he seems a little less there at the dinner time. 
When your birthday finally comes, your grandma still decides to celebrate it in a small way. She makes your favorite food and gets you a cake and candles. Hugs you when you cry about it, too. The only thing they skip is the decoration. 
(You’re brave though, when next year rolls around and tell them you miss it. It makes Caleb happy enough to hug you tight.)  
The warmth that fills your heart seeing your name in iced letters is too big for your body. You wonder if this is what having a family was like. 
At night time, after dinner and before you cut the cake - you open your presents. There’s two for your eleventh birthday. One from grandma and one from Caleb. Usually, they sign their gift to you together but this year they’re separate. 
At first, your heart sinks, but you try not to think about it. Grandma gets you a bike that matches Caleb’s so the two of you can ride together. You’re happy to have it but Caleb insists you can just keep riding on the back of his if you don’t want to learn. 
You open Caleb’s gift second. It’s wrapped in pretty paper with a bow on it so you undo it carefully. Inside of it is a plain looking box.  
“Open it,” 
There’s a pair of earrings and a necklace when you do. It’s not cheap plastic like all the other jewelry you’ve ever had in your life. Little apples covered in gemstones, and a little gold necklace with a pendant and a locket. Your eyes go wide, fingers trembling a little as you touch it. 
You look for Caleb’s face unthinkingly. Kind and warm, eyes crinkled and shoulders slack in relief when he sees your happy reaction. His hand is warm as it rests on your head, rubbing gently. 
“It took a while but I’ve been helping our neighbors for money so I could buy it for you,” Caleb says, looking down at you with an easy grin. “The day you were born is important for me, so don’t say that you won’t celebrate it from now on. Okay?” 
When tears well up in your eyes, you barely have to say a word before Caleb brings you into his waist. You cry to him the same way you always do - with a hand fisted in the back of his shirt like you’re terrified of where you’d end up if you let go.
Even when you ruin his shirt with salty tears, Caleb never voices a word of complaint. His steady heartbeat and warm hands that make you feel like he’s already done it all before, stay exactly where you expect them. 
Your dependable, kind older brother. 
__ 
At thirteen, you take your first field trip overnight. 
It takes a tremendous amount of effort to make it happen. 
Grandma was easy to convince, but it took you fourteen whole days to convince your brother that you could handle going on a school field trip without having your hand held the entire time. 
(You can still hear the amused, taunting lilt in his voice from when you first mentioned it. Sure you’ll be okay pipsqueak? My bed won’t be there for you to take over if you get scared, you know?)
Ugh. He can be so strict. An you swear he was even more stubborn about it than usual. 
You had to use every tactic in the book to get him to say yes. Kissing up to him, acting extra wistful, doing your chores and being super well-behaved. After strategically buttering him up for two weeks prior to you just asking, you also made sure to ask when he had one of his friends over. He’s strict regardless of who's around, but having another person in your corner is good for morale. 
(This method is effective for the record. Just as Caleb goes to turn you down, his friend throws an eraser at him and clicks his teeth. 
“There’s a limit to your siscon behavior. Just let her go.”
You sneak said friend a candy the next time he comes over as thanks.) 
After a lot of persistent begging, Caleb relents and allows Grandma to sign your permission slip. It’s an overnight trip sure—but it’s heavily supervised and rooms are separated by gender anyhow. You really don’t know what he was so worried about.
So far, the trip has been really fun. You went to a butterfly garden conservatory as a part of your science project and one landed on your nose. Your friend even managed to get a good picture. In the afternoon, you did a bit of sightseeing and got to buy some street food. 
When evening rolled around, you and all your friends holed up in the same hotel room sleeping together on one big floor. You stayed up a few hours later than you should’ve—gossiping and discussing the newest chapter of a very popular romance webnovel.  Most of them are out by the time the clock hits midnight. 
And now, you’re the last one awake at 1am. 
Unfortunately, no matter how long you try to sleep—it is hard to sleep away from home, knowing Caleb isn’t right down the hall. No matter how much the thought makes you frown. 
You’ve outgrown the habit of crawling into his bed every night. Still, you think you rest easier knowing that he’s there. You’d never admit it but subconsciously, it comforts you just knowing he is. The few times you get nightmares of the Chronorift these days, your nightmares are especially persistent. You don’t crawl into his bed like you did when you were a little kid as often as you used to. Even when you want it, it’s just a little embarrassing. 
Regardless though, he’ll stay up with you until it passes, and until you go back to to sleep. It’s the only thing that helps it go down easier some nights. That he’d be there no matter what happened. 
By the time the clock strikes one-thirty, you get the feeling you just won’t be able to sleep unless you at least call him. 
So, after carefully sneaking your phone out of your bag - you leave your hotel room to wander the halls and end up in the lobby in your PJs. 
You realize your incidental act of rebellion when you catch some stares from late-night guests. You hesitate on whether or not you should go back before deciding that’d be pointless. Fingers hovering over the call button, it takes a beat before you hit and hear the number dial. He’ll probably scold you but you know he’ll answer. 
He picks up in one ring. His voice is thick with sleep when he speaks. “It’s late. You should be asleep.” 
“Yeah, I know. Sorry, Gege,” You say, crossing slippered feet against the tile of the hotel lobby floor. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
His voice softens instantly. “Somethin’ happen?” 
You shake your head before realizing he can’t see you. “No, I just couldn’t sleep.” A beat. “I thought I would sleep better if
I talked to
someone.” 
It’s too embarrassing to tell him you wanted to talk to him, specifically. Caleb is quiet on the other side of the line before he laughs, just a little. “You were so adamant on wanting to go with your friends, huh? I thought you’d be just fine. Were you being brave for show?.” 
You frown a little, groaning. “I did have fun. A lot of fun. We talked a lot before bed too, and now everyone else is asleep. It’s not like I regret going. And I wasn’t being brave, I was just—” 
“Sure, sure. Still can’t sleep unless you know I’m there, huh?” 
Silence stretches over the line. You feel your face grow hot with embarrassment as you stretch your legs out, chin tucked against your chest.  
“Maybe I should just hang up on you,” 
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Caleb says more gently. “You can call me as much as you want.” 
“You’re being nice like when we were kids.” You observe. 
Caleb scoffs a little. “I’m always nice.” 
You roll your eyes and Caleb laughs like he knows you did it. It’s quiet again before he speaks. In the voice that makes him feel older than he is. “I’m worried about you so I’m being even nicer than usual. Is that okay?”
His tone is light, teasing, but there’s more to it than he lets on. You trace a pattern into the worn, fabric arm of the chair you sit in. “Why?” 
“I get worried when you go somewhere I can’t see you.” He says agreeably.
Your face tugs into a frown, strangely mortified by the sincerity of it. “It’s not like I’m a kid anymore. I’ll be fourteen in a few months.”
Caleb laughs. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be a kid.” 
You huff. “That’s not fair. Does that mean I’ll have to beg you like this to do anything for the rest of my life? You’re too much.” 
“At least until you turn eighteen.” Caleb replies, voice airy and content. “And if you’re still a little weakling then, probably a few more years after that too.” 
You groan. “How terrible. What kind of brother are you? So cruel.” You pause  “You’re more like my dad sometimes.” 
“Since you’re my responsibility, I usually have to act as all three.” Caleb says with ease. “You should get used to it.” 
Despite your grievances, your body relaxes exactly the way you expect as you listen to him talk. You yawn out loud,  sleep making your eyes and limbs heavy. 
“Finally tired?” He asks, voice softened. Doting. It’s so instant, you don’t have the will to fight it. “Go sleep. Make sure you eat tomorrow morning and don’t just wait until noon.” 
“Okay, Gege.” You yawn again. “Goodnight. Love you,” 
A long silence stretches between you. You wonder why he hesitates. “Love you too. Now go to bed. And don’t sneak out without telling your teachers again,” 
“Wait, how did you—” 
“I know everything.” He says dismissively. “Goodnight, okay?” 
You pull back and stare at your phone. He’s a little scary sometimes.
 “Yeah. Okay. Night,” 
__ 
At sixteen, you go experience the first real heartbreak of your life. 
It’s less over the actual relationship and more about the events leading to your break-up. 
Your secret boyfriend of five months kissed one of your closest friends. And you caught them both red-handed. 
It was in the gymnasium after school a few weeks ago. You nearly fist fought them both before getting overwhelmed and simply  running away in tears to a nearby playground. Your two other best friends had to pry you out of a bed of mulch and take you home after wiping your tears. 
You have a list of grievances about the situation. You like (?) the guy but you loved your friend - but now you have neither. And all of it happened for a reason you cannot wrap your mind around at all. 
You’re thankful for your other friends who have taken your side in the matter while still trying to get to the bottom of it. And it’s good having them, but in your time of teenage angst - the one person you’d like to tell absolutely can’t know. 
Not telling your older brother is hard. Keeping the secret makes you feel guilty enough, but it’s made harder when he’s home. And he will be for the next two weeks until he has to go back to the dorms. They’re on some kind of spring break. 
Until then, you make it your mission to keep up appearances. Since the one person you don’t want to find out about your relationship is the person who’d find out the fastest. 
Caleb is strict. Has been for as long as you can remember. Though you’ve never explicitly spoken on dating - he has, more than once, “subtly” warned you about having an interest in the opposite sex. You remember how you made stupid heart-eyes to one of his school friends years back and he still brings it up whenever you ask about him and how he’s doing. As if even wanting to know is some kind of betrayal. 
(And well, maybe you do ask just to see him react like that. It’s
funny. It’s not like Caleb needs to know that.) 
You don’t like keeping secrets from your brother. You’re close. Way closer than most people ever are with their siblings. 
Maybe because Caleb has always taken care of you—he feels less like a sibling you can pointlessly squabble with and more like your guardian at times. 
It’s hard for you to lie to him explicitly so the fact you’ve kept the relationship under wraps for five months is kind of impressive. 
You always told yourself, you’d tell Caleb if it ever got serious. Truthfully though, you didn’t think it was going to last. Didn’t even want to accept until your friends pressured you. 
Your now ex-boyfriend is the one who asked you out, which is what pisses you off the most. He’s one of the popular guys in your grade and he’s
nice. Was nice. You don’t think you’d be sad if he simply broke up with you and went out with your friend. You’d think less of him maybe, but it’s not like you’re in love with him. 
It’s all the other stuff that’s weighing you down. It’s getting into a fight with your friend. It’s getting two-timed by the jackass who asked you out first. One you didn’t even like that much. 
(Maybe not at all.) 
It’s wanting to whine and complain about all of this to your older brother who would take your side but not being able to - because you can’t tell him half truths. You don’t have it in you. You barely have it in you to lie to him.
(Truthfully, you think the only reason you’ve been able to all this time is because you’ve kept said boyfriend at arms length somewhat knowingly. You haven’t had a proper kiss.)
Telling Caleb everything is a long time compulsion you don’t know if you’ll ever unlearn.You don’t know if it’s loyalty or gratitude—only that it makes you feel like a dog whose been leashed to a post for most of your life before it gets unchained. 
Even when you’re no longer shackled to it, you find you can’t go anywhere. Being without it doesn’t free you, not really. You find it goes against what you know to try to escape without hearing the click of metal. 
You stay by the post. You tell Caleb everything. It feels outright wrong to lie about something important. 
(And it’s still hard lying about something unimportant.) 
You’re sure it speaks to the depth of your attachment but you always end up spilling your guts to him. Like a child always wanting to please their parents and behave. You know Caleb will accept you, even if he gets angry. But you don’t actually know how he’ll react and that scares you into not wanting to tell him at all. 
The thought of disappointing him is what makes you most uneasy. 
So, you decide that you’ll take it to the grave. It’s your one half-ass rebellion and these are the natural consequences. As long as you process your friendship grief and wear out your anger - it’ll be smoothed over before you know. 
Meticulously, you time your sessions of grieving and angry debriefing phone calls in the hours Caleb is out of the house. You work hard at keeping up as if nothing is happening in your life at all. You feel an unshakeable feeling of guilt the entire time, one that has you waking up in cold sweat but you ignore it because
 well, you don’t really know how to fix it. 
(Truthfully - you’re irrationally worried that he’d leave over something so trivial, and you’d be seven and all alone in the world again. As nonsensical as it is, and as much as you want to pretend otherwise, your attachment to Caleb really matters that much to you.) 
You very nearly make it to the finish line of this plan too. Almost. . 
In the middle of your crying session - you answer a knock on the door and assume it’s Granny (who does, at least partially, know what’s going on). You open it without thinking. 
It’s the last person you want to see in the moment. 
You quickly try to shut the door but Caleb is quicker. Slides his unnecessarily huge body through the small gap and shuts it behind him - trapping you both. You stumble back a little, but he catches you by the wrist to make sure you don’t actually fall. 
You feel like a deer in headlights. Red, water rimmed eyes, runny nose, and face puffy - you try to pull your sleeves over your hands and wipe your face. Even though he’s already seen it. You’re too old to be crying like this in front of him. It’s humiliating. 
Caleb grabs your wrists easily before you can wipe them away. You blink away a few unshed tears to get a better look at his face. You inhale, your chest tight - feet like lead as you look at your older brother. His pinched expression, almost pained but still tender. Still gentle. Just seeing it again makes you want to cry. 
“I knew it,” He says. He drops your hands and instead cups your face with his palm, thumb wiping away tears as he cups your cheek. His expression is firm. “What’s wrong, hm?”
It’s like something in you collapses. 
You give into it without any effort. 
Caleb makes it so easy, after all, to be the weakest version of yourself.
With him, there’s no desire to fight what feels inevitable. So you let yourself fall to nothing in Caleb’s arms and cry. You’re torn up over your first real friendship fight so you let yourself lean on him. Just like you do at seven, and ten, and all the years before. Fist your hand tight in the fabric of his shirt like you’re worried he’ll shake you off, even though he never does.) 
(Later, you’ll remember this conversation and realize that there was never any room for anyone else. It was a kind of teenage naivety to think otherwise. 
You’ll hear the sentiment from everyone you know—friends, colleagues, family: the person you can be weakest with is who you should marry. If only you had known that then, too. Maybe accepting it would’ve been easier. Maybe you would’ve known sooner what feeling you’d spend the rest of your adult life chasing) 
Caleb rests his hand on the back of your head as he tucks your face against his chest. It’s warm and soft. The comforting scent of detergent and cologne, undercut by oil and jetfuel. You wish you could bury yourself in.
You stand and cry like that in silence for a long while. Caleb holds you tight without asking any questions, his chin resting on top of your head, patting your back. 
When you pull away from him, ready to explain - he walks himself over to your bed and sits on it. His expression is unreadable. Concerned but trying not to worry too son. 
With his legs wide, he opens his arms out to you to invite you into his lap the way you did when you were kids. You wonder if he’s joking—trying to make you laugh and cheer you up. 
But in the moment you’re so fragile, you tuck your chin and sit anyway. He stiffens briefly, as if surprised but soon enough, strong arms lay drape your waist as he lets you lean into him.
“Ready to talk about it?” 
You fidget. “Aren’t you busy?” 
He shakes his. “I’m all yours.” 
Your chest feels warm and fluttery when he says it. It soothes you. . 
You sniffle, adjusting in his lap. “I’m sorry.” 
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks. “You don’t have to,” 
“No, I—” You shift in his lap. “It feels wrong. Not telling you.”
Caleb hums. “You’re at that age. I already know that much. But no matter what I’m on your side, so don’t hide when you’re feeling sad or upset. Okay?” 
“Nn,” You nod. “Yeah. I’m sorry.” 
“It’s really fine. It’s not like I can really be mad at you, right?” 
You make a small, thoughtful noise. “You say that but you’re unexpectedly good at holding grudges.” 
Caleb laughs. “Hm, that’s true. But not with you.” 
You repeat the words to yourself, half-dizzy with a smile. “Not with me.” 
Caleb smiles at you. He holds you a little tighter. You grab hold of his jacket, white knuckling the fabric until your heartbeat settles. 
“So. Do you want to tell me what happened?” 
__ 
( In the end, you tell Caleb everything from start to finish. 
It’s just as you predicted. Once you start, it’s hard to give him anything but the full truth. Caleb listens to you intently without interjecting. Rests his chin on your shoulders, leaving you with nothing but his body language to pick up on his moods. 
He stiffens when you tell him you had a boyfriend. Calms down when you tell him you didn’t like him very much, that all you did was hold hands and cuddle and you still think it was a waste. 
Caleb listens to it all. Hangs onto your every word until you’ve tuckered yourself out. You think of what they say about how a burden shared is a burden halved and hope that it’s fine to depend on him this much all these years later. 
Caleb is silent and steady for the duration of your talk. Towards the end he tells you: “No boy should ever make you cry. Should I get revenge for you?” 
“Gege,” You say exasperated “And what about boys making me cry? That’s all they do from what I can tell.”
He doesn’t refute that. “ That’s true. It’s better to avoid them, really. If I ever make you cry you though, you can hit me,” He replies. You laugh a little.
“I don’t think you would make me cry without good reason.” 
“If I do, I’ll make sure to repent for my whole life after.” He says, joking. Maybe joking. 
Your cheeks warm  “Your whole life feels like a long time.” 
“Is it? You can’t really get rid of me easily, so I think it makes sense.” 
“I guess that’s true. You can’t get rid of me either, you know.” 
Caleb grins at you. “How lucky.”) 
__
At nineteen, you go to a club in the Linkon entertainment district for the very first time. 
Your friends dragged you here. It’s your first year of the Hunter Academy and your first time living away from home. You’ve spent most of the school year completely focused on training and working towards your goals - trying to  be strong enough to work alongside a certain someone and hold your own. 
You’re not here of your own volition, but honestly? It’s not so bad. Drinking and dancing with your friends proves fun for the first couple of hours at least. 
After that gets old though, really more stressful than anything. 
You aren’t supposed to be here in the first place. That’s the main cause of your current unease. The club is 21+ and it was already an ordeal getting in. The longer you stay, the more restless you feel—the more you want to leave before anyone gets caught up in anything. 
You’ve been knocking back drinks all evening, courtesy of some of your friends - and the night is starting to come to a halt for you internally. All the discomfort and overstimulation go from engaging to overwhelming, and your head is starting to spin.
You’re in the section where you and your friends got invited. Apparently there’s someone tonight who's popular in the nightlife scene - son of some rich business man you think. Your friend has been doing you all the solid of keeping him happy. Your eyes flit over to where they dance on the floor and you feel yourself wince just looking at them. 
Shit, your head is throbbing. 
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sink back in your seat and think about what the best strategy is to get out of here. 
All of you should go home honestly. There won’t be major consequences for simply being intoxicated, but sneaking into an establishment like this really might affect your ability to graduate. Your academy is not known for its leniency. 
Aside from that, you’re tired. You should have more energy than this. You would normally, you think. But it’s a Friday and you had taken up some extra training since you had no plans to be out. The addition of alcohol dehydrating you and the sharp and particular pain from stiletto heels makes you lethargic. Dead on your feet. 
It’s later in the night but not so late people are leaving. A second wave of attendees are shuffling in now. You have half a mind to mix with the crowd and leave by yourself. It feels like a good idea at least. 
But then, more people are brought to your section. You’re only half-paying attention as the guy from earlier, the one paying for you all, happily introduces the new group to people already sitting. 
“...And Caleb, it’s good to see you. You’re usually too busy to come to things like this,” 
A pair of eyes bore into you. You freeze completely, eyes glued to your phone screen as you catch a glimpse of the one person you absolutely do not want to be meeting here. 
“Yeah,” A familiar voice says. His voice is light like he’s not noticed anything.”I’m glad I came. I’ve already seen some interesting things.” 
The dull throb in your head turns the corner to a sharp pain. A feeling of complete misery washes over you. Truly, the worst possible outcome. You wonder what Caleb is doing here in the first place. From what you know, this isn’t usually his kind of establishment either. Maybe someone from his dorms dragged him here too? You think it’d be something like that. 
You make the mistake of looking up as Caleb slides in opposite to you with a few other friends. His expression is completely unreadable as your eyes meet across the table. He flashes you a smile that makes your nerves stand on end. All you can do is look away, eyes flitting back down your phone. 
A text appears at the top of your screen. 
from cpt big bro (1:03am): nice to see you. 
A feeling of unease immediately feels you, but when you look back up at Caleb - he’s pretending like you don’t even exist.
You don’t know why you feel so guilty in the first place. Sure, you snuck in here but it’s not like you did something unheard of. And you’re past the legal drinking age in the first place. And the clothes weren’t your idea. You’ll tell him that when he inevitably asks. 
You’re not doing anything so wrong but you’re worried he’ll get the wrong idea. 
(A voice in your head asks: what idea? You tell yourself it’d be embarrassing if your brother thought you were looking for a hook-up. It’s reasonable enough.
 You decide not to interrogate the reasoning any further, even when the feeling doesn’t go away.)
You find your gaze falling in your lap as you try to dissolve the overwhelming feeling of shame and upset just knowing Caleb’s seen you like this. 
It’s worse though to have him ignoring you. You know he’s probably doing it for your sake. Even knowing he’s not malicious doesn’t make it much better. Your eyes stay glued to your phone screen. 
You don’t know how much time passes before someone else joins you at the table. 
A woman this time. 
“Caleb! You actually came,” She says over the music. You watch her from your peripherals as she slides in next to him without hesitation. “I thought Kenji was lying to get more girls to show up.” 
You hear him laugh a little. You think he sounds a little uncomfortable, but maybe you’re reading too much into it. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Isn’t that always how that goes?” She hums. Your eyes widen slightly seeing the way she presses herself up against his arm. “But I’m glad you're here. Maybe I can convince you to dance.” 
“You can try,” He says. You know he’s just being amiable. Or at least, you think he’s just trying to be amiable. 
You’ve never really seen Caleb flirt with a girl, so you don’t have a real reference for what does and does not count. 
It’s the first time in all of your life you’ve ever seen Caleb get hit on so closely. You’re used to his popularity of course - but back then, Caleb usually made a point to run away. No one ever got near enough. He’s always been nice about it of course, tries to let people down easy. 
You don’t know the girl who's flirting with him now, but you can tell that they know each other. They’re sitting close, but not enough to be obvious. You can hear them too, though. Hear how she talks to him. It’s not hard to tell that she’s hitting on him. And your brother isn’t reciprocating but he’s not quite turning her down. It doesn’t seem to bother him, enough that when he makes jokes playfully rejecting her - the conversation still doesn’t sour.
They get along, is what you mean. Better than you thought they would. 
Your stomach churns. 
You try not to think about whats making you sick.  But it washes over you all at once. More dizzy  than nauseous. You feel like someone is tying your insides into a coil. The more you try to divert your gaze - the harder it is to ignore it. Caleb glances at you from time to time, but it seems accidental at best. 
Your heart is hammering. You think about how long it’s been since you’ve last seen each other. All the things that have happened while you’re apart. 
When you find you can’t sit and handle anymore, your body makes the decision to leave for you. 
It happens quickly. You stand to your feet, nearly stumbling in your heels as you talk to a friend on the dance floor and make-up a nonsense excuse about needing to leave. She offers to call you a taxi, but by then you’re already making a bee-line to the door and out of the club. 
It’s late when you leave. Your whole body feels like it’s trapped in ice as the unforgiving night air whips your skin and leaves you cold. You stumble down the steps in your heels until you finally make it onto the curb with all the other drunk club-goers trying to get home or sober up.
You’ll flag down a taxi, go home, and pretend nothing happened. You repeat the routine to yourself over and over. 
It feels like the only way you can handle it. Your mind can't process it otherwise. Can’t think too hard on what you might’ve been privy too. 
“Where are you runnin’ off to?” 
You freeze when you hear Caleb’s voice. You have half a mind to break into a sprint but you aren’t sure you can without breaking your ankles with your heels. Another part of you is preening over the fact he came immediately to find you. You turn around and try to walk away briskly - only to feel a warm hand on your wrist, pulling you towards him and making you come to a halt. 
“Let me go,” You mumble. 
He holds you a little tighter. 
“Don’t be like that. No matter how much training you have, I know you can’t run in heels so quit it,” Caleb says, with a sigh. “Why’d you run off?” 
“What do you mean why?” You say, words slurring. “Who’d wanna see—hicc—” 
Caleb frowns at you. “Why’re you trying to be tough if you can barely keep yourself standing up straight?” 
He sighs, bending down. You let out a noise as he undoes the strap of your heel. 
“Take them off,” 
You pout. “How am I supposed to walk home like that?” 
“I’ll carry you on my back,” He replies. “Your ankles with have a hard time if you keep wobbling like that,” 
“My feet will get dirty from the pavement.” 
You’re being difficult on purpose. Drunk and upset, arguing with anything he says. Caleb knows this you’re sure but he doesn’t seem to have a reaction to it besides mild exasperation. Despite that though, he still tends to you. 
He makes a face at you before sighing. You watch as he slides his jacket off of his shoulders and drapes it over you. It’s oversized on him, even more so on you.  It fits more like a dress and covers more than your outfit does. 
When you’ve slipped your arms through it, he drops down onto his knees and undoes the other strap of your heel. He turns around after that, signalling for you to get on his back. You want to refuse him but you find you don’t have the words to do so. You comply with his request, putting your arms around his neck as he lifts you with frightening ease. 
He bends down with you on his back to pick your heels up and carry them.
“Aren’t you gonna ask me anything?” You mumble. Caleb sighs. It makes you bite your lip. 
“It can wait a bit.”  
“Hmph.”
You find you have nothing left to argue with him. You give up on trying to refuse and let him carry you, both hands lifting you up as you keep your arms around his neck. Your cheek pressed against his shoulder, worried your makeup will smear on it. 
You don’t know how long you walk. Your eyes are closed for the duration of it and you only open them again when you sense a change of lighting. The noise of an automatic door and a tired greeting alarms you. You feel embarrassed, suddenly, at the idea that someone else has seen you like this. 
Caleb just greets them as normal.
“Aren’t you gonna let me down already?” 
“Are you feeling uncomfortable?” 
“No, but—”
He doesn’t respond to you further. You get the impression there’s not much meaning to continue arguing so you keep quiet. 
You watch from over his shoulder as he roams the aisles until he comes across cheap pairs of slippers and socks - next to other random household items. He picks the correct size without asking you. Seeing it only adds to the strange feeling you’ve had since leaving the club. 
He goes to self check-out, pays for the sandals, then carries you to one of the few seats and table near the window of the 7/11. Carefully, he sets you down on one, your heels on another, then silently opens the packaging. He drops to his knees and looks up at you in silent question. 
“You don’t need to—” 
He doesn’t say anything when you attempt to refuse him. Keeps quiet  and just waits for you, not unkindly. You frown and hold your foot out to him. He rolls each sock carefully onto your feet, pulling them all the way up over your ankle before the slippers follow. 
“Do they fit okay?”
“Mm,” 
You nod. Caleb hums. Holds his hand out. 
“C’mon. Pick out something to eat or drink so you sober up a bit,” 
“While we talk?” You ask, voice suddenly small. He pauses, smiles just barely, and pats your head with the same firm hand he always does. It makes you want to cry. 
“Yeah. While we talk.” 
You nod as Caleb helps you off the seat. “I’ll go get some water.” 
“Okay,” 
You think of what you want to eat. Childhood memories whisper answers to you. Chips and candy - sweet and salty so you have balance. You remember the way Caleb would cut into his own snack budget for you to get what you wanted. He’d pretend to complain, but he’d smile at you while you ate. 
You pick the same things you used to. You wonder if he’ll notice. 
He returns with two bottles of water. “Did you finish choosing?” 
You nod. His eyes drift to your hands. He cracks another smile that makes you happier then it should.
“I see. Let’s check out then, hm?” 
Your heart flutters. You follow him quietly. He goes to the cashier the second time around - amiable, friendly and easing some unspoken tension. Apologizes for the inconvenience and, with familiar diligence, asks if there’s a recycling bin for him to toss trash nearby. The cashier offers to do it for him. 
Afterwards, he holds his hand out to you like it’s only natural for you to want to hold it. You take it. 
Of course, you do. 
He guides you outside, and the two of you sit on the curb. An expectant look appears on his face when he dusts off place beside him where he’s hoping you’ll sit. You do, knees touching -  folding your hands into your lap. He opens the bottle of water and hands it to you. 
“We could’ve just shared one,” You offer.
“I’m not so stingy,” Caleb says.. You purse your lips. You want to tell him that’s not what you mean, but you don’t want to ask yourself what you do mean. 
You take it from him and drink. 
Silence stretches over the seemingly endless night. The streets of Linkon prove to be busy and limitless. Given the district you’re in, you’d expect it to be more packed - but the streets are desolate. Proof of life resides in the lights of buildings and clubs but now, here—it feels like you’re the only two people left in the world. 
It’s quiet for a long while. You sit like that until you break the ice. 
“You still haven’t asked me anything.” 
“Well,” Caleb looks at you from the corner of his eyes and shrugs, taking a drink. “I can kind of guess why you were there in the first place. Don’t have much of a clubbing spirit, you know. Your friends probably told you to go right?” 
You nod.“You’re not upset?” 
“Mm,” Caleb sighs. “Not at you for just going. It’s hard to be mad at you especially when you
” He trails off, an almost imperceptible smile on his. He shakes his head before continuing and you miss the window to ask about what that was all about. He glances at you again. “Your dress is too short, though.” 
You feel heat crawl up your skin. “It’s not that bad. And I’m nineteen,” 
“So? You’re still my baby sister. Naturally I won’t approve, right? You know that much.”
You bend over your knees, pouting. You feel weirdly happy but try not to think about it. “You’re so unreasonable sometimes.” 
He clicks his tongue. “I’m being very reasonable right now,” 
“...Mm.” 
Tension lingers in the air. You open the chips Caleb got you and tilt it his way. A peace offering. He takes one. 
“Why’d you run off?” 
You make a face. Will yourself to not cry as you tuck your chin. 
“...I dunno.” 
He glances at you. You miss the knowing expression on his face. “Even if you were doing a good job of lying, you know that wouldn’t work on me right? Did something happen? Something you can’t tell me?” 
“Nothing happened but you—”
Caleb interjects. “Me? So it’s because of me then.” 
You bite your tongue. Caleb is lost in thought. 
“I didn’t mean to ruin your night showing up. Didn’t know you’d even be there. It’s not like I’m mad or anything.” Caleb starts. 
“It’s not that,” You say quickly. The frustration just thinking about it makes your throat well up. You can feel it. You drink water trying to wash it down. 
“Then?” 
It slips out of you, exasperated as you sit up and turn to look up at him. 
“You were ignoring me,” You say, voice wet and shaky - hands fisted at your knees, shoulders tight. You still haven’t sobered up much. Your lips curl into a frown. Caleb is stunned into silence. “You didn’t even
 I thought you were mad at me. And then that girl sitting next to you was—”
You stop yourself. Caleb looks at you wide-eyed. Opens his mouth to say something but closes it again soon after. He processes what you’ve said slowly, though he doesn’t seem surprised by all of it. 
“I wasn’t mad at you. Surprised, but not so mad. Even if I were mad, I wouldn’t ignore you. It’d make more sense for me to drag you out myself, don’t you think?” 
You huff. “It felt like you were mad at me. And—”
You want to ask. Who was she? Why was she so close to you? Why didn’t you push her away? Do you like her? 
Nothing comes out right. You bite your lip. “That girl
 was she your friend?” 
Caleb stops. He looks awkward all of a sudden. “Huh? No, no. She’s my senior. She has someone else she likes,” 
“She was hitting on you,” You say bluntly, sticking your feet out. “And you didn’t stop her.” 
For a brief moment, you swear he looks amused. His expression settles again quickly. “I know she’s not being serious so I didn’t feel like there was any point causing a rift.” 
“She’ll get the wrong idea. If you don’t turn her down properly and just let her—” Be all over you. Touch you so close. Get in your space. “...flirt with you.” 
A beat. “You think I should turn her down properly then?” 
It hangs in the air. You want me to turn her down?
You bite the inside of your lip. “Yeah.” 
“Will it make you feel better?” 
Your eyes meet. For a brief second you feel like someone has stolen all the air from your lungs in one go. You look down. 
“Yeah,” 
Caleb’s breath hitches just a touch before he speaks. “Okay.” 
He opens his arm up to invite you closer and slot into his side the way you used to. Blinking wetly, you scoot across the concrete and tuck yourself under the safety of his arm. Your face is close to his chest. He smells like cologne and iit makes your heart beat feel erratic. His hand comes up to stroke your head and you let him soothe you like you have so many times before. 
“No matter what happens, there’s nothing you could do or say that’d make me angry enough to ignore you. I’d never ignore you if I didn’t think you wanted me to,” 
“I never want you to ignore me, ever.” You say immediately. “Never ever.” 
He chuckles. The way it reverbs in your body makes you dizzy. “Okay, princess. Noted. Do you wanna sit a little longer or should I call a car for you?” 
You tuck into his side. It’d be nice if you never had to leave him ever again. Pressing into him, your words muffle in the fabric of his shirt. You tug at the hem. 
“Wanna stay here. Just for a bit.” 
He hesitates above you. But a while later, you feel his lips at the crown of your head - right at your hairline. His voice is gentle. “Sure. As long as you want,” 
__
At twenty-two, you often dream of your older brother. 
At first, it’s grief. Caleb dies not long after your birthday and in the months that pass - the warm memories of your childhood seem to follow you into sleep. Some nights, it feels kind to see him. In your dream, you run into his arms and he holds you tight when you tell him you missed him.
Grief holds the rest of you hostage. You want for nothing and think of nothing except your brother. You miss Grandma too, of course you do. 
But there’s nothing in the entire world like a brother. Like your brother—who you could ask anything of. It’s hard to unpack the loneliness you feel. Hard to explain it to other people. 
In the months you correct yourself from saying have to had—and watch peoples eyes change into one of sorrow and pity. At the worst of it, you can’t even pretend to think of that as a kindness. Can’t even thank them for being nice. At the worst of your grief, you find yourself especially angry at being pitied. You look at people and want to say they don’t understand. They don’t know what you lost. There are no words that make it digestible. You bite your tongue, give a tight-lipped smile. 
What you wanted to say was this: How dare you act like you understand what I lost? How dare you feel sorry when you don’t know the half of it? My brother is dead. A piece of me is missing.
You never say any of it. You bury the words in the black vast of your grief and throw yourself at finding answers. 
Your feelings about the incident change the more you find out. About Grandma and the abomination in your heart—and you cycle from anger to sorrow to unease.
They never change about Caleb though. The apparition of him, warm and broad, cycles through your dreams every now and again. Some nights, you wake up expecting to be seven years old again—clinging to your older brother, the only thing you know in the world that’s made you lose everything. 
Most nights, you wake up from dreamless sleep and feel yourself wanting to cry. 
(You don’t cry often when he’s gone, even when you should. 
Who would be there to hold you now when you do?) 
When you finally see Caleb again, see him alive—your emotions become just as complicated as your mind has been in the months of his absence. 
You’re ecstatic, you’re angry, you’re terrified, you’re so so sad. You are all of these things at the same time. 
And then, you realize that the death of Caleb did not only change you. Your older brother comes back to you. He’s warm, kind, and gentle sometimes. But it’s not the same. There’s something about him, inexplicable, that is changed forever. 
Caleb dies and comes back wrong—but this only strengthens your resolve. To do what, exactly? You aren’t sure. You don’t know what you want and you still know nothing about the Aether Cores. Or about what Caleb does. 
All you do  know is that your older brother has come back to you, and you are empty without him. You’d rather have him wrong than not have him at all. You’ll fix him or become wrong with him before you ever let go of him again.
(Even the way he is now, sometimes, he seems worried about ruining you. You want to say sometimes—then ruin me. You know what he’d say if you did. He knows he’d tell you to watch your tongue and not to say what you don’t mean.
You’ve thought about it, though. You’d rather that then he disappear again. You’d rather you know what's going on then not. ) 
Things have changed. Caleb has changed.
You have changed, most of all. 
When you hear from Caleb for the first time he no longer wants to be your brother - that he’s tired from playing house with you, your first reaction is devastation. The memory of that dread is so strong, you still feel it when you replay it all in your mind. Caleb above you, caging you in, unreadable—no longer what you know. 
You don’t think about anything. You can’t. It destroys you completely to hear him say it. Makes you want to cling to him and beg. Cry loudly enough to wake the version of him that did want to be your brother. That loved you unconditionally. 
When you have to go the next morning and find a memory of your childhood tucked away - you realize not all of him is lost to you. That the parts of him you loved so dearly have not entirely disappeared. 
So you stay, and try to mend the broken pieces of your relationship back together.
At twenty-two, you often dream of your brother. 
When he comes back to you, you think you’ll be given one more dream before he disappears. You figure the real thing is back in your hands. It’ll go back to the way it was before, where your sleep is long and dreamless but that’s fine. As long as you can wake-up and see the sun, without feeling like yours was stolen from you—anything is fine. 
At twenty-two, even after you learn he’s alive, you often dream of your brother. 
The first time you ever have a wet dream of Caleb is just after he comes back to Linkon. 
After you sit in the garden with Caleb and blow the hydrangea petals away from his face, and his hand comes up to touch you. After he promises to take good care of the flower he takes back to SkyHaven. After he tells you there was no way he’d be able to stay away from you. 
When you sleep the night after he returns home, you dream of Caleb again. 
This time you’re in your bedroom—the one from your childhood home, that Caleb spent so many years taking up space in. You dream of your brother on top of you and you both look a little younger. His face contorted with pleasure, and your hand being the one to give it to him. The image missing from the waist down, all you can see is the clear view of him over you. Making it so obvious what you’re doing. Doing together.  
You wake up from your dream with a feeling like something’s crushing your chest. A wheezing breath as you struggle to calm down. A distinct feeling of wetness between your legs that cling to your PJs when you stumble into your bathroom - trying to relieve yourself and being confronted with the reality of what just happened. 
The first time you have a wet dream about Caleb—you only feel shame. You tell yourself that it’s a fluke, and that dreams are meaningless anyway. It makes you violated to think of him like that. You can’t control what you do in your sleep. You decide not to dwell. 
Weeks pass and you see Caleb again. You share fruit and more conversation, and the following night - you have another wet dream. This one, more vivid than the last. Different. You dream of Caleb with a baton to your neck and the tension in the room when he caged you in his arms. In your dreams he’s cruel as he drags the metal end down your body, pushes it against your—
You wake up the next morning almost inconsolable. 
The cycle repeats for as long as you see him. Every time Caleb appears in your life, you dream of him the next night. You wake up in shock, wet down your legs and spend all morning trying to suppress it down as far as you can. 
You tell yourself all sorts of things when it happens. You reason with yourself. Dreams are nonsense. You can’t control them. It’s your brother. You don’t think of him like that.
(You think of all the times you’ve seen him since he’s returned. All the ways his eyes soften for you, all the ways his hands linger—how ever since he’s denied being your brother at all, you think of what that might make you now. 
It breaks your heart to not have him as your brother. Your precious family. An unbreakable bond. The one you love most. He touches you the way brothers aren’t supposed to, and you remind yourself of what you can’t have. You remind yourself of what loss you would feel first.
He always looks pained when he touches you like that, though. And, for some strange reason, sometimes you want to tell him: Did you know I dreamt of you touching me? So you don’t need to make that face. Like you’re wrong. My dreams couldn’t make you this gentle.)
The harder you try to force it down, the harder it is to pretend it’s nothing. You push and push and push—but each time you see him, the cycle repeats.
Eventually, it’s too hard to pretend. You refuse to name it, or think about it—but when you let your mind stop forcing it so deep into your subconscious, it’s easier to reconcile. 
It doesn’t go away. But your skin prickles with embarrassment, and you sigh, and you move on from it. Even if the dreams don’t stop, you can go on about your day when you leave it all alone.
You think maybe, if you and Caleb never saw each other again, it might even work to rid you of the dreams completely.
But he’s your brother—your precious family, the one you love most. You see him all the time. Whenever your schedule allows it, he’s the first person you check with to see if you can come spend time with him. Even if he can’t be with you, you stay over at his place to eat his food and watch TV on his expensive flatscreen. 
It makes you feel like you live together again. 
(You try not to reel at the thought. It’s normal for siblings to stay together from time to time. It’s like a sleep over. That’s all.) 
So it’s not unusual for you anymore to drop by his place. You even have a key. 
(Your key, you think. Caleb put a stupid green apple cover on the top part of it. It’s for you, and only you.) 
Even when you do come over, sometimes you only see him at night. You have little conversations before you need to go to sleep (or rather, when he makes you go to sleep.) But it still feels better than only seeing him sometimes. 
So it’s not unusual for you to be here in your PJs and watching something stupid while draped on Caleb’s couch. 
It is unusual, however, to have him come home so soon.
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PART TWO: SO ONLY SAY MY NAME, IT WILL BE HELD AGAINST YOU.
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You pick your head up as soon as you hear the security system for Caleb’s apartment announce someone at the door. The time reads 6:56pm.
Heavy footfall makes you pick yourself up, crawling to the edge of the couch and standing on your knees to catch sight of him. You lean forward. 
“You’re home early.”
It takes him a second to register who's talking, but he smiles slightly when he does. Turnt towards the doors, he’s leaned against a wall as he undoes the laces of his steel-toed boots. 
“So are you,”
You give him a melodic hum. “I got off since we have a holiday. I have Monday off too.” 
“Yeah? That’s good. You should try to rest up some,” 
“I will. Gotta catch up on my shows first though,” You reply thoughtfully. “I’m like half-way through ‘em.” 
“Workin’ hard I see. Try not to over-exert yourself.” He adds, playfully sarcastic. You nod. 
You answer him in silly earnest. “Of course. I’m more relaxed here so don’t worry.” 
He pauses as he finally stands back up. You see him at the other side of the room with a smile. 
“Yeah?” 
You feel something in your stomach that you choose to ignore. “Yeah. Plus I don’t have to eat my own groceries.” 
“It’s better you eat mine than me wasting them,” He says with a shrug. 
“How generous of you.” 
“Right?” 
You lean forward, resting more of your weight on the couch. “Did they just send you home early too? Or is it some special Colonel privilege?” 
You see him shake his head as he slides off his coat and walks over to the fridge, grabbing a plastic bottle of water out of it before taking a few long drinks. 
“Mm, kinda the first.” He says thoughtfully. “I got injured in the field today, had to go to the infirmary. It’s a minor injury but I checked in with my commanding officer and he told me I might as well go home.” 
You frown. “What kind of injury?” 
“It’s really fine,”
“Caleb.” 
He sighs, turning towards you. The open fridge door illuminates him. “Just got a bruise along my thigh from how I fell. Nothing broken.” He says. You’re still frowning at him. “Don’t worry about it.” 
“How can you be fine if they sent you home?” 
“It’s not like that,” 
“I don’t believe you,” You say petulantly. Caleb shuts the fridge door with his hip as he laughs. 
“What, you want me to show it to you?” 
“Yeah.” 
“It’s on my thigh. I’d have to take off my pants,” He says, laughing. He joins you on the couch - sitting where you were laying—eyeing you while he waits for you to come join him. You narrow your eyes suspiciously but crawl over to him anyway, sitting beside him with your legs up. “Unless you’re really just wanting me to strip, promise it’s fine. I’ve had it worse,”
“That’s not a good thing. If it were me you’d be freaking out already and fussing over me.” 
“It’s different,” 
“Is not,” 
“Is too. My little sisters still a bit of weakling, see—if I don’t take good care of her she’ll end up hurting herself even worse,” Caleb says, voice high. 
“I’m not even weak. Maybe not as strong as you but not weak.” 
“When you get stronger than me, we can talk about who gets to worry about who,”  He says, flicking your forehead lightly. You pretend to flinch at the injury. 
“You let me do whatever I want except worry about you.” 
“You got it. Glad you’re getting up to speed.” 
You elbow him. Caleb laughs. 
You sit back with your knees to your chest, frowning. Caleb leans back, arm stretched on the back of the couch. Inching closer to him subconsciously, your brow furrows as you think about his injury. 
It’s like he reads your mind.
“You’re really worried about it.” He murmurs.
You purse your lips. “No shit.” 
“Don’t cuss,” 
“I’m twenty-two!” 
“So?” He raises his eyebrow. 
“You make me want to strangle you sometimes.” 
“If you succeed I’ll be impressed.”
You glare at him. “I’ll make sure to wait until you’re fully recovered so it counts,” 
He relaxes into the couch, eyes filled with mirth. “Smart move.” 
“You’re still in your outside clothes. Don’t you want to wash up first?” 
“Do I smell bad?” 
“No, that’s not it. But if you get too comfortable, you might not want to get up to do it, you know?” 
“I’m not like a certain someone, so I’m not worried about that.” Caleb says. You huff as he continues on. “I just wanted to sit with you for a bit first. Is that not okay?” 
“I didn’t say all of that. Don’t put words in my mouth, jeez.” 
He hums. “Just checking,” 
Comfortable quiet  settles between you as Caleb sits and watches your drama with you intently.
You relax further into the couch as you settle back in, once again engrossed in your show. It’s a period and fantasy drama about a once noble woman getting married against her will to a supposedly cruel emperor. Crude description aside, it has high political stakes, violence, and good writing. 
The romance aspect of the show was what drew you in more-or-less, but it’s a slowburn between the main couple. You’ve mostly been watching for the high-tension plot. It captures both your attention and seemingly Caleb’s too. 
“Wait,” Caleb interrupts half-way through an episode. “I want to watch the rest with you but I need to shower,” 
You smile at him. “It’s good right? It’s not a lot of romance but there’s other stuff. We can watch it together after you wash-up and maybe
we can have a drink together.” 
“You’re so interested in that,” 
“I want to know what kind of drunk you are. It’s not fair you’ve seen me drunk and I haven’t,” 
“Pfft,” He rubs your head with hand, amused. “What kind of reason is that? But you know what? Sure. Order whatever you want with my card while I go shower.” 
“Yay!” 
You pause the TV as Caleb stands up and stretches, fishing for his wallet and passing you his card. Snatching it from between his fingers, you give him a mischievous look that makes him laugh. 
“Go shower,” 
“I am, I am,” He holds his hands up. “I’ll be quick,” 
__
You watch your drama late into the evening. 
You drink casually with Caleb as you binge watch the final few episodes of the season you started on. You take a break later in the night to have dinner delivered to you, but afterwards - you decide to keep watching. 
Caleb wasn’t lying when he told you he holds his drink well. You’ve both been knocking them back since eight pm. Even with the time to sober up in between, he seems like he hasn’t had a single thing to drink the entire time. 
You feel far from wasted, a warm meal in your stomach settling some of inebriation - but you still feel somewhat tipsy. At least enough to have that pleasant, warm, loose-limbed buzzed. You’re sober enough that Caleb doesn’t get on your case about drinking enough water - though you sure it’ll be a different story in another hour or two if it keeps going. 
Half-past midnight - you’re two episodes deep into the third season of your drama. 
Relaxed, you’re half-way draped on Caleb - legs in hips lap and nursing another cheap can of beer. After several episodes of action and violence - the story is starting to get back to the romance aspect for the main couple. 
Maybe it’s your fault for not thinking it through, but you’re really not expecting a graphic sex scene to play so soon after so much high plot. 
In the first place, it doesn’t start out like a sex scene. The main character went to go visit her injured husband after he returned from battle. Sweet, you thought. Maybe you’d get to see them have some intense, longing eye-contact like they’ve been having for a while now. 
You aren’t sure when exactly it takes a left turn. You’re tipsy and comfortable and warm. On your phone looking things up on social media. 
They kiss once, then twice before a breathy moan cuts through the comfortable.  
Before you can scramble to find the remote and scrub through it, the scene changes instantly in temperature. A few tepid kisses rapidly go from chaste to deep, all tongue and teeth. 
Near full blown nudity flashes across your T.V. screen as a strange heat creeps up your neck. You feel like you’ve had enough mental torment when you see the male lead kiss his way down the female leads neck. It’s more uncensored then you thought. 
Your voice is trembling a little. “We should uhm,” You swallow thickly. “Where’s the remote..?” 
Caleb feels a little
 different. He seems startled hearing you speak, looking at you with lidded eyes. “Not sure. Think you had it last,”
“Oh, right. I don’t,” Another moan rips through the tension between you. It takes your full body effort not to jump. “....really remember where I put it,” 
“You want me to help you look?” 
You blink at him. “I mean
 we should, probably look for it. Since, uhm
 you know.” 
“Are you uncomfortable?” Caleb interrogates. You stare at him. 
“You aren’t?” 
Caleb is quiet for a long time, like he’s thinking hard about the answer. 
“I feel fine,” Is what he says after what feels like forever. 
“You feel
 fine.” 
He nods without looking at you. “We can skip it if you want. Probably have to get up to find the remote, though.”
You sink back in the couch, your face feeling warm. “It’s fine, then.” 
You’re a little startled as the couple on T.V starts to really have sex - at least more than foreplay. It’s not full frontal, but the sounds and angles are enough to get the point across. Caleb just
 watches. Relaxed.
“You sure?” He offers, glancing at you again. “It’s fine if it’s too much for you,” 
Frowning, you sit up slightly. “What do you mean too much for me?” 
“Hm?” 
“You’re saying it like you’re used to it,” 
Caleb gives you another glance. Assess you once or twice before looking back at the T.V. 
“Does it matter if I am or I’m not?” 
You find yourself at a loss for words. Is he used to this? That can’t be the case, right? 
“You never dated anyone when we were growing up.” 
Caleb nods. “You don’t really need to date someone for something like that, though it’s better that way.” 
You find yourself shocked by his answer. He’s changed a lot, you know that but—
But it feels wrong. You can’t imagine him just hooking up with someone and having a one-night stand. He’d only ever do it with a girlfriend. So if he has any experience, it’d have to be with someone like that. 
He smiles at you. “You’re making a scary face.” 
You look up at him, unsure of what face you should be making. The question slips out before you can stop to think about whether or not you should even ask it. 
“So are you
 used to it?” 
He pauses before leaning in. “This is the second time you’ve asked,” 
“That’s
” 
“I don’t think it’s the kind of thing someone’s little sister should ask their older brother right?” 
You snap your mouth shut. Caleb leans a little closer. “Right?” 
“You’re not answering,” You whisper. Your foreheads touch.
“Is there a specific answer you’re looking for?” Caleb says. 
Your eyes widen, teeth pressing against your lip as you tear your gaze away from his face. . “No,” 
“Is that what my answer should be or are you answering what I just asked?” 
You don’t give him a reply. 
Caleb lets out a soft breath of laughter before he finally seems to decide he’s teased you enough. He gets like this more and more lately. Most times you cool off from it quickly but
 
You aren’t sure what drives you to make a move. What makes you tug him back to you by the front of his shirt when he tries to pull away. If it’s the alcohol, or the jealousy that makes you do it. It’s hard to say what the source of your heart pumping so hard is—only that it’s all Caleb’s doing. 
Your hands fist in the front of his shirt as you drag him forward and kiss him as hard as you possibly can, only barely avoiding biting down with your teeth. Chaste but harsh, you press your lips together with nothing but pure desperation, air pushing hard through your lungs as you do. For a minute or two, longer than a kiss should last. 
And then, you pull away. Out of breath like you just ran a marathon, cheeks hot and flushed. Your first kiss that you initiated.  It’s almost mundane. 
Embarrassed, your first instinct is to jump off the couch and lock yourself in the bathroom. But Caleb knows you. Even better than you know yourself. 
He catches your wrist as he leans towards you. His expression is unreadable. 
“You kissed me,”  He says, completely entranced. “You did right? I didn’t just dream that?” 
“It’s your imagination. You must be drunk,” 
He laughs good naturedly. “Maybe I am.” 
Your frown deepens. How do you refuse him when he acts like that? 
Your heart feels like a jackhammer against your ribcage. You can’t. You really can’t. You shouldn’t have—
“I didn’t mean to k-kiss you,” 
Blatant heartache fills his eyes. It feels like something is crushing your chest. “Is that so?” 
You squeeze your eyes, relenting only a little. Your voice is barely above a whisper. “We can’t.”
Caleb scoffs “Why? Because you see me as your brother?” 
“You are my brother.  You are and you always will be, and I don’t want to lose that. I can’t, I can’t. You’re—” 
“Why can’t you?” His voice is raw, almost desperate. Trying so hard to understand you. It makes you hurt seeing him like that. “What can I do to become more to you?” 
“You’re already`—” Everything to me. “You’ll always be the most important person to me.” 
His hands grip tighter, devastation darkening the familiar aura of warmth you’ve come to love. Like he’s at the precipice of something considering what he should do. It takes him a while to come upon answers. Staring at you so desperately before closing his eyes, loosening his grip like he’s ready to let you go.
He looks like he makes a choice then. Really makes one. You can already predict what’ll do. What smile he’ll give you but it feels different from other times.
You hold onto him before he can, hand fisted in his shirt. He startles again, softens, not agitated despite how wishy-washy you’re being.
“It’s not that I don’t want you,” You say, so quietly it almost evades you both. “But I don’t want to lose you as my brother if we become more than that.” 
Silence falls between you. 
“You won’t lose me,” He replies, gently and easily. Your eyes meet. It’s nice. “I want to be everything to you, remember? All of it. I want you to only think of me for the rest of our life. For us to only need each other. You don’t need to give anything up. When have I ever said no to you?” 
You turn away from him, shaking your head. “You said that you never saw me as family, that you wouldn’t be—” 
Caleb stops you. “I want to be everything to you. Everything. I want us to only need each other. I had to make you understand. From the start, I never intended to give anything up for anyone else.”
“But that’s
” 
“I don’t care if it’s wrong,” He says, reading your mind. “I’m asking what you want. Tell me who you want me to be. I’ll do all of it for you. 
You glance down, away from him - guilt, remorse, fear. You’re resolve is wavering, but you’re too afraid to say it out loud. 
His voice softens. A hand, big and warm and kind, cups your cheek. You know. Know every scar, every touch. 
“Tell your big brother what you want and he’ll give it to you.” 
Something in you shatters. The weak resistance you’ve been trying to hold onto so desperately, denying yourself of what you’ve wanted deep down all this time. Having it offered to you, handed to you—proves to be too much. It all comes tumbling down. 
Your voice comes out like a whine. Your dependency more than shows. 
“Touch me,” You gasp, voice wet with tears. Caleb cracks a slight smile. “Touch me, please—want you so bad. Don’t want anyone else to have you.” 
Caleb looks elated. Adoring. Madly and terribly in love. 
“What a crybaby, hm?” He pulls away from you, standing up before scooping you in his arms “Here. Hold onto me. I’ll carry you,” 
“Caleb, I’m too—” 
He stops you. “I have a bionic arm. Don’t say you’re too heavy. It could carry ten of you.” 
He keeps good on his promise. You wrap your arms around Caleb’s neck as he picks you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist, a gasp leaves your mouth as his hands rest under your thighs - lifting you as he walks you to his room. It reminds you of when you were little though a lot has changed since then. 
The realization makes you nervous. 
“The TV is still playing.” You mumble..
“You won’t be able to hear it from my room,” 
“This is embarrassing,” 
“You’ll live.”  Caleb hums. 
“I hate you,” 
Caleb opens his bedroom door with his hip and closes it the same way, walking you to the end of his bed and dropping you on to his mattress. He leans over you, hands on either side of your thighs to keep himself up - inches away from your face. 
“Don’t say things you don’t mean. It’ll make me sad.” He says sweetly.
You pout. “Sorry,” 
He laughs a little. “It’s okay,” 
This close to you, you feel a strange warmth glow your whole body. You crane your neck up to kiss him chastely, pulling away and feeling shy again. 
“You taste like beer,” 
Caleb stares at you for a long time, smiling slightly. Dazed. “Should I go brush my teeth?” 
You look down, away from his face, your hands fiddling with the ends of his shirt. “No
” 
He presses his forehead to yours, noses brushing. “How can you be so cute, hm?” 
“Quit that,” You whine.
“If you get this embarrassed just hearing you’re cute, you’ll have a hard time later on.” 
You blink up at him owlishly. He laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
“I’m barely holding it together, you know?” 
You look up at him. 
“What do you wanna do to me?” 
His eyes seem to dilate.  “Don’t ask me that,” 
“Tell me. I want to know,” 
He laughs breathlessly. “That’s unfair,” 
“I don’t have to be fair with you,” You say petulantly. “Tell me,” 
“I’ve spoiled you too much.” Caleb says, faux regret. “Even if you get scared, you can’t run away.” 
“I won’t get scared,” 
“Really?” Caleb hums. He moves to the side, his mouth next to your ear - voice barely audible. He puts his hands over yours as he towers over you. “You sound confident, but you know—I’ve wanted to touch you for so long. So badly that it scares me just thinking about it. Can you handle that?” 
It’s a confession you think, as much as it’s dirty talk. He pulls back and you’re face to face again. 
“I’m not scared of you. Even if you can’t control yourself I won’t be scared.” You tell him, headstrong as always.
His smile falters. “I don’t want to hurt you,” 
“I know you like to call me a weakling but you know I’m not really made of my glass,” You stare at him, eyes tracing over his features. “It’ll be hard for you to break me in one go. Might’ve be fun,” 
He tsks. “Don’t talk like that. I’d prefer to treasure you.” 
You look at him for a long time quietly. 
“I dreamt of you.” 
“Hm?” 
You feel your face flush, but for some strange reason - you have an urge to tell him. The words come easy. Maybe you’ve just been waiting for a reason to confess. 
“Of you touching me,” Caleb’s eyes go wide. You smile a little. “Used to dream of you when you were, you know
 but it wasn’t the way I dream of you now.” 
“How do you dream of me now?” His voice is strained. 
“They’re dirty dreams,” You say, fidgeting. “Sometimes I’m touching you and making you feel good. But most of the time, it’s you doing whatever you want to me.” 
His voice is hoarse. “Yeah?” 
“Mm,” You lock eyes. You can see it in him. It almost feels cruel, but you’re not saying it to tease him. “I had a wet dream about when you were interrogating me. You were being mean in that one. Really mean,” 
“I already said sorry about that,” 
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” 
He swallows. “Oh,” 
“Yeah, oh.” You slide your hand up his arms, squeezing the back of his biceps as he leans over you. Look up at him with mutual love. “I’ll only say it once so please listen carefully: I’m fine with anything if it’s you.” 
It’s unexpected when Caleb tackles you to the bed. Not to kiss you, rather—but to hug you. You squeal as you both drop onto the mattress with your legs hanging off the edge. Caleb’s full weight crushes you, trapping you in his arms. You find yourself laughing a little, giggly as you feel him squeeze you tight enough to crush you.
“You’re squishing me, Caleb.” 
He laughs breathlessly, rolling you both to the side. Pulling away with your face inches apart, he beams. 
“Do you know that I’m crazy about you? Or do you say things like that not even knowing?” 
“I don’t know,” You say, burying your face against his chest. “I just know you take good care of me. I want to take good care of you too,” 
A spectrum of emotions pass through Caleb’s features at once at the admission. It’s the most vulnerability he’s ever shown you.
His body stiffens. He takes a deep breath before pulling away from you. You watch him innocently as he pushes himself up closer to the headboard. Rolling onto your stomach, you stare at him as he rolls onto his side. 
“More comfortable this way, right?” 
Consider without trying, your face warms. Caleb’s voice is whisper soft. “C’mere.” 
You push yourself up until you’re closer to him, legs no longer hanging off the edge.
Within his reach, Caleb’s hand find your waist. He’s strong, you forget it all too easily—until he’s manhandling you to be in his grasp. Careful but demanding. Rolling on his back, he pulls you onto his lap until you’re straddling him. 
The view proves too much for you both. His face is pink. A sheepish smile on his face. 
“Regretting it?” 
You shake your head quickly, careful not to rest your weight on his lap. He rests one of his hands on your thigh, closer to your knee and steals a glance at you. 
Like this, you become aware of him for the first time. Consciously, as if he’s become a completely different person. All the things you’d never allow yourself to consider, slowly draw into focus. Like seeing him with a new set of eyes.
You notice every detail. Sparking arousal and curiosity, you put your hand on his chest and just stare. Unconsciously, your fingers reach for the dog-tag necklace you gifted him - straightening it. Metal warmed underneath your fingertips, you center it on his shirt. At the dip of his muscles where his chest is. 
Fitted tank-top shows off enough to give you an idea of what’s underneath. Smooth, alabaster skin. Muscles bulking underneath the ribbed cotton - soft and supple from lack of tension, rising and falling with each breath. Your thumb smooths over the silly apple-shaped pendant, the raised letter of the dogtags. The brief skin to skin makes the air feel electric. 
You do it unthinkingly, really. Following your instinct, you rest your hand on his chest before sliding them up closer to his neck. Defined clavicles, the long  column of his throat and how it leads to the angled curve of his jaw. Eventually, your hand finds his face. His boyish features—handsome but youthful. Caleb leans into the touch. His usual, playful teasing nowhere to be found. It makes you jolt in surprise. His expression is painted by desire, a rosy flush to what's an otherwise perfect face. 
His voice grows thick. An octave deeper than you’re used to. “Having fun?” 
“Nn,” You shift under the weight of his gaze. “Sorry,” 
“S’fine,” He says, pressing his cheek to your palm. “You can touch me however you want.” 
Hearing it embarasses you. But your reply comes quickly. “You too,” 
Caleb smiles shakily. His hand slides up your thigh. It’s slight, barely there. His hands are trembling. 
“Can I kiss you?” 
“We’ve kissed before,” 
He shakes his head. “It won't be like before.” 
“I don’t have any experience,”
Caleb laughs breathlessly. “I don’t care.” 
You frown, but let yourself fall forward. Suddenly inches apart, your eyes widen. Caleb is staring at you this time. His eyes soaking in your expression, gaze falling onto your lips and staying there. They flicker back to yours for silent permission. 
You meet his eyes completely assured. He swallows and cranes his neck, his hand coming up to your face to cradle it. His thumb traces your lips, inching himself closer and closer. You can hear his breath. Feel it on your face from how close you are. 
Cupping your nape, he presses his lips to yours with unfathomable tenderness—undercut with the hottest flames of desires you’ve ever felt. It’s hard to describe it. All of the kisses you’ve ever had in your life have been Caleb’s, but this one really is different.
An unfamiliar desperation fills it despite being a gentle press of lips. He pulls away and you miss him. Try to chase it as he speaks against your mouth. 
“Open your mouth, baby. Breathe through your nose,” 
You listen to your older brother obediently, mouth parting as he leans in to kiss you again. Soft at first before pulling you down deeper into him by your. A moan escapes you subconsciously and you feel Caleb shiver. Eyes closed, you let him guide you through it. He controls the depth, the pace. You kiss deeply like that, holding each other before he pulls away again. 
Every time you part, you feel a strange pang of sadness. Caleb never leaves you like that for too long 
Your mind is hazy with desire as you fall into a pace with him. He breathes hard each time he pulls away from you, seems overwhelmed each time he kisses you again. Switching between deep kisses to chaste one, your lips throb from the overwhelming intensity of it. His mouth perfectly warm, lips soft and full. Wet as the kiss deepens but not unpleasantly. A tingly sensation that makes your skin prick. 
You make a noise of surprise when Caleb slips his tongue against your mouth. But you don’t dislike it. Rather, out of curiosity, you copy him. 
(A habit of your childhood—to copy your older brother and keep what you like from him as your own. )
Caleb inhales when you mirror him. Your eyes flicker open briefly to see his face, pleased by the draw of his eyebrows, before letting them close again. 
There’s nothing intimidating about kissing Caleb. Every fear you harbor about how you should do it is washed away by the sheer force of your lust for one another. Like a gap of communication has finally been bridged—with your soft tongues sliding against each other, brushing against his palate, open mouth panting, subconsciously rocking your hips. Each second of doubt is brushed away by the overwhelming feeling of mutual, lovesick desire. It flows through your veins with more naturality than even your blood. Nothing more righteous, more sure. 
You kiss like you’re telling him every secret you’ve ever kept—lips incapable of anything but honest confession. Holding onto each other in desperate, desperate necessity. A lifeline. A lifetime of holding it in, unraveling like the seconds couldn’t pass quickly enough to answer for it. 
It feels like the beginning of devouring. You’ve never felt so hungry for something in your life. It gnaws at your conscious thoughts. 
Desire simmers as you subconsciously settle your weight on Caleb’s lap, rocking your hips against the pleasant hardness meeting it. Not entirely sure of what it is your even touching. Caleb moans softly each time you do. 
“Fuck,” Caleb pulls away finally. You whine and he laughs at you. Kisses you again, just once. “Shh, baby.” 
“Nn, you don’t wanna kiss?” Your words come out slurred, even to your own ears. 
“Not that I don’t want to, but you’re—” His laugh comes out higher, breathier. “Doing a little more than kissing,” 
“Mm?”
He looks up at you. Amusement mixed with arousal. “You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?” 
“Feels good,” 
“You’re this weak to a little pleasure,” Caleb says. His hands are hot as they squeeze your hips. “Can’t you feel what you’re sitting on?” 
The question sobers you. Caleb hold you steady to stop you before changing the pace. Uses his strength to hold your hips down as he grinds you over the full length of his

“Oh,” You’re startled. You’re grinding against—
“You’ve been grinding against my dick like that without thinking about it at all. Isn’t that dangerous?” 
A shiver wracks through you. Caleb’s voice is husky, low when he says. It’s crass and to the point—something you could never imagine hearing him say. But now that you have heard it, it makes it feel like your whole body is melting. Sticky arousal climbs through your limbs, leaves your mind muddled as you moan. Shivering, you fall forward in his arms. He closes them around your back, grinding his hard-on against your clothed cunt. The way it catches on your clit so indirectly feels so good you could cum from it. 
His lips find your face, your jaw. His kisses affectionate. “Feels good, huh?” 
“Mmm,” You press your face to his neck. “Caleb,” 
“Do you want to cum like this? Or do you want me to make you feel even better?”
“Better?” 
“Yeah,” Caleb says, a promise. “Better. Promise. Do you want that?” 
You nod. “I want it,” 
“Gonna lay you on your back, okay?” 
You make an affirmative noise as Caleb flips you on your spine with ease. Surprised by his strength again, you gasp a little as he turns you over until he’s over you. He kisses you sweetly. 
Your head feels full. Too heavy on your shoulders. You want to put your tongue in his mouth again and you don’t feel all the way there. Caleb looms over you. 
“You’re beautiful,” Caleb says, breathless. Your eyes go wide. “Really fucking beautiful,”’
“That’s
” 
“I think it all the time. Want to say it to you all the time, but I never wanna scare you.” Caleb hums, a hand on your thigh. 
“Why would that scare me?” 
Caleb chuckles like it’s obvious. “You get skittish easily, you know? When I act less like your brother and more like
” 
You finish the sentence for him with a pout. “My boyfriend?” 
He hums like just hearing it feels good, eyes lidded. “Yeah. Like your boyfriend.” 
“Well that’s
.” 
“Do I make you nervous?” 
His expression is playful. Makes your stomach flip. Your hand finds the hem of his shirt. 
“So what if you do?”
“It’d make me happy,” 
“You want me to be nervous? How mean,” 
He leans into your space. You kiss again and feel disappointed when it’s over. Were you always so desperate? 
“Don’t put words in my mouth. It just feels good to know you think of me that way, yeah?”
Something about it, about him like this makes your stomach tie in knots. You make a face, head tilted trying to tempt him into doing what you want. Caleb knows without you speaking a word, always does. Dips his head down to appease, lips firm and steady. Soft and full enough to make you melt. Your arms around his neck, a little breathless, mewling at the way it makes it feel like there’s electricity in your skin. 
“You really like kissing, huh,”  Caleb says. He pulls away again. Casts a brief glance your way before he peppers kisses all across your face. Draws his lips down your jawline, hot and wet as he noses against your skin. He finds your pulse and darts his tongue across the sensitive skin of your neck. 
You keen. It’s a sudden sound, sensitive. Your body shivers. Caleb makes an affirmative noise and does it again. Scrapes the same spot gently with teeth.
Another pitchy moan escapes your lips. Caleb breathes from his nose like laughter. Places more experimental bites and licks all along your neck. Your voice slips before you can catch it. 
“Harder,” 
He appeases you. Just like always. Feeling his teeth in your neck makes your mouth fall open and you moan his name like a small prayer.
His teeth leaves marks along your neck at your request, hands at your waist to hold you in place as you learn more about your body. You can feel your shorts dampen as he does it. It overwhelms you, makes you tremble with every light breath and every sordid bite. You don’t have any experience, have nothing tangible to compare it to except the things you did alone in your bedroom. 
It doesn’t compare at all, though. No amount of relieving your sexual urges as a desperate teenager or fumbling against a stranger in a club even kind of helps your mind make sense of it. Caleb kissing and biting down your neck, his hands touching your skin—it’s the first time in your life you’ve ever felt it. First time you’ve known touch like this. 
First time your mind has been rendered so useless to think. 
He rests his mouth as his hands slide up your sides. You gasp slightly as they go underneath your shirt  but you don’t make any move to stop it. Further and further they go until the reach for your back. Searching for something.
“You’re not wearing a bra,” He whispers.. 
“I don’t at home,” 
He lets out a breath like the winds have been knocked out of him. “Right,”
“Are you into that?” You ask before you can stop yourself, surprised by the sound of your own voice. Caleb just laughs like he’s in disbelief. 
“Take a guess,” 
“I just don’t get it,” 
Caleb doesn’t say anything to that. But his hands maneuver. Stopped just underneath the swell of your tits, his eyes look up at yours and ask for silent permission. His shoulders sag with relief when he receives it. 
The way your chest fits in Caleb’s hands makes your breath hitch. Squeezing the fat of them, relishing how they feel between his palms. He’s quick after that, pulling your shirt up until it’s gathered underneath your neck. There’s an impatience to it that surprises you, something uncharacteristically lacking composure as he halfway undresses you. 
His eyes linger like that for a long time. So long it makes your face burn. 
“Stop staring,” 
“...I don’t know if I can.” 
There’s something like awe in his gaze. Your spine tingles, goosebumps appearing on his skin. The way his hands hold onto your waist. He presses his cheek just below your sternum with an loving sigh, kissing it as he picks his head back up. It’s sweet to the point it almost nauseates you. It might if it were anyone other than Caleb. 
His thumbs draw over your nipples, hardened from arousal. Your chest rises and falls in anticipation, in ache. Thighs squeezing together in a silent admittance. His touch is experimental, careful in observing what elicits the most reaction out of you. 
Chest tender, takes one of your nipples into his mouth without warning. You gasp, hand covering your mouth as you feel him smile against your chest. 
The air shifts again. Hotter, heavier—there’s a sudden carnality to the way he’s touching you. Mouth latched onto your nipples tenderly, grazing them lightly with the blunt end of his incisors like he can guess everything you like. His mouth on your chest is overwhelming. It baffles you that something can feel that good. Each time you think you can’t be surprised any more, Caleb makes good on making you feel better and you’re forced to eat your words. 
Between your legs is throbbing hard. Whatever Caleb can’t fit in his mouth, he teases with the rough pads of his fingers - brushing and squeezing and twisting. Alternating as to make sure nothing goes neglected. Your hips cant against air, frustrated by lack of friction. Caleb is relentless, but does not make any move to sate your growing desires. 
“Caleb,” 
His eyes are washed over as he looks up. A look on his face you don’t know, have never seen until now. His voice is low in the back of his throat, strong hands cupping your chest and squeezing. 
“‘Mm?” 
A sibling bond like this, you think, is to blame for understanding so quickly what Caleb wants. Something you know innately, deep in your subconscious that makes your cheeks grow hot. A hot, prickly feeling goes down your back and all your clothes suddenly feel restrictive. He sits and remains steadfast, but you can sense it too. 
It feels good but something is missing. Something is off. 
Despite his restless desire, he’s taunting you. Goading you. You groan and Caleb laughs.
“Don’t—Caleb. Please,” 
“Did you want something?” 
Another groan leaves your lips as his smile remains unfaltering. 
“You promised you were gonna make it feel better,” You say, so petulant and childish to your own ears you wince. 
Somewhat predictably, this works on Caleb right away. Overwhelming lust tucked carefully behind a thoughtful smile. “I did, huh?” 
“Don’t be a jerk,” You reply. He laughs but not for long.
He has something flash on his face at your reply. You just kind of know. “Sorry, sorry,” 
“Stop holding back.”
He looks surprised. “I’m not—” 
You nudge him with your knee. “You are. You think I don’t know you? Didn’t you say you wanted me to see you differently? Stop acting like a cool older brother. It’s annoying,” 
His expression is one of awe and amusement. It’s not quite that he’s irritated, but you can sense that you just barely get under his skin with the implication. 
 “Weren’t you the one who was crying about not wanting anything to change? Now you’re chiding me? You were acting so spoiled just a minute ago to get your way and now you’re saying you don’t want me acting like your big brother, hm?” 
Your eyes widen at the change in character. It still feels like Caleb, but it’s so intense. Too sincere to be completely playful. A strange mix of lust, nerves and fear wash over you. “Just—” 
He pushes himself back up to hover over you, swift as a hand cups your jaw, forcing your gaze up. Pure arousal shoots through your veins, almost unwittingly, as you catch sight of Caleb’s gaze. An vengeful quality to it. 
“Meimei,” He says, and your breath hitches. Your head is clouded with the immoral lust of hearing it this way. “Your older brother didn’t teach you how to lie, right? If you want something, say it with your mouth. Say it clearly,” 
A flush crawls onto your face, eyes darting away. Caleb allows you this much mercy. To let you look away feels kind. 
It’s an uncomfortable sort of feeling. To acknowledge what desire, what reaction you’re seeking. It’s unfair, and childish - since Caleb has done nothing but love you from the very moment you met him. Kind, gentle, considerate—you love him so deeply that it hurts to breathe just thinking about all you’ve experienced. 
Something about what you’re asking of him is ugly. Born of selfishness, the desire to have all of him, too. 
“Ugh, just—stop saying you want me and show me,” You say, full of distress. 
You see it in his eyes when something clicks. 
And then, with a sudden force, he kisses you. It’s rougher than the ones previous, deeper, greedier. What you want. You moan into his mouth as Caleb licks at your lips, pulling away to kiss your cheek. Sweet as always. 
“Don’t regret it,” 
The change is immediate. In a way, he’s still just answering to your desires - but you don’t dislike this part of him. Your heart rate kicks up as Caleb strips you of your shirt completely before settling himself back down to where he started.
From just beneath your breasts, all the way down the place of your belly and navel - Caleb places hot, wet kisses to your skin. No longer languid but hurried, long fingers curling into the very edge of your waistband as he drops down further and further before settling between your thighs. He glances up at you when he begins to pull down your shorts but doesn’t ask you for permission and it makes you feel a strange thrill when he doesn’t. 
Caleb tugs your shorts off and helps you wriggle out of them in one go - an audible groan escaping his mouth. Plain, tattered cotton panties hug your hips as you lay with your legs up. He nudges your thighs open as you place your feet flat on the bed. With your legs spread, your clothed cunt is readily visible.
He lets out a soft breath. When you look down, your eyes meeting—there’s something almost animalistic to him. A completely and utterly ruined expression, blush dusting across his nose and cheekbones. 
“I want to make you feel as good as you can, okay?” Caleb says breathlessly. 
He brings his mouth to your inner thigh, closer to your knee and places a sweet kiss on the skin. Both of his hands are gripping hard onto your hips, as he breathes in the scent over and over. It sets your body alight to see it in glimpses. His brow is furrowed as he sucks and bites sloppy hickies into the soft fat of your thighs - working his way up slowly. When he finds you properly marked on one leg, he repeats it on the other. 
You can feel the ache of fresh bruises. A sensation that coaxes a completely new wave of arousal straight from the deepest depths of your body. An impossible wetness soaking the paper-thin cotton, sliding down the curve of your ass from how keyed up the touch makes you. 
It’s less that he’s satisfied in his markings with you, more that his desire for you grows too heavy. Caleb stares at your pussy with eyes of pure, unmistakable reverence.
You have never been able to picture another human being looking at you the way he does. 
So much ardor. So much bone-deep, blood-red voracity in a single gaze. The shakiness of his breathing, the harsh grip of his hands, that unsteady look in his eyes as his nose and mouth hover over the soaked panties over your pussy. As if you can see the words repeating in his mind: want, want, want. Nothing more certain. 
Your whole body wracks with a shiver. You whimper with your hands fisted at your sides in anticipation. 
A startled gasp escapes you as Caleb doesn’t do anything but press his nose firm to your pussy and breathe. Deep and unrepentant like he’s trying to memorize the scent of you, use it to track you like a bloodhound. Embarrassed warmth floods your system and you squirm in protest of his actions. 
But you’re trapped there. Completely and utterly, rendered helpless by his gri. His eyes flicker up unfocused but quickly go back to being closed. It’s all the communication you need to know he intends to do exactly as you’ve begged him to do. To expose the extent of his unsavory appetite. Inhaling the scent of sweat and skin, of a day of lounging and leaving your pussy completely confined.
He looks so madly-in-love in the moment you find it hard to breathe even a word of protest. Your clit throbs unhelpfully in response. 
Your mouth falls open in a silent scream when Caleb finally, finally drags his tongue over the seam of your panties. He doesn’t pull them off—instead sucking the wetness from the material. Puffy clit helplessly pulled into the force of it while trapped under your panties, you buck your hip up against his tongue. Caleb obliges you. He points the tip of his tongue and slides it over the small bud through the cotton - completely stiffened from arousal. You shake at the touch, the wet promise of pleasure. How the drenched fabric of your panties gives the most gratifying, mind-numbing friction. You moan loud. You can’t help the sound that leaves you when he licks your pussy. 
You’ve never felt anything like it before. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt this way, but you’re under the impression that most people will never know a pleasure like this in their life. 
When your underwear is completely saturated with spit - only then does Caleb let off from you. Without a single word of warning, he tugs away the material. Exposing your pussy, bare and throbbing - he blows warm air onto your clit and watches as you squirm. 
Another beat of admiring before his mouth latches onto your pussy again. Panties tugged away haphazardly, his tongue sliding from wet hole all through the seam, the soft folds of your pussy - settling at your clit. He licks experimentally, wading through your moans. When his tongue tastes your clit just the right way, you practically scream. 
With newfound dedication, he commits to worshipping your pussy with his mouth. 
It’s humiliating. Purely euphoric and undeniably stimulating, boneless as Caleb’s tongue laps desperately at your clit. His eyes shut, completely blissful - brows furrowed and moaning into you. He eats you out like it’s what he’s wanted to do his entire life and this is the last opportunity he’ll have to make good on his dreams. 
The corrupted thought lights fire under your body anew. To think of Caleb lusting for you when he shouldn’t be. Like a forbidden fruit, ripe and sweet and nearly his—nearly within his grasp but always just barely slipping between his fingers. Your kind, sweet, considerate older brother thinking of ruining your mind and body. The idea he’d been torturing himself over it makes you sad but more than that it incites impossible longing. You want him to want you even more than he does now. 
You can feel your body ache for it for the first time. Like a reply to his feelings, you think of how good it will feel when Caleb finally fucks you. Takes you, plucks you from vine  and claims you all for himself. 
But the act of him tasting you like this is more than good. The tender bundle of nerves is throbbing hard against the wet flick of his tongue - hips rutting to meet the perfect motion of his mouth. Something in your belly warms. Sweetens your senses and melts you from the inside like crystalized honey coming to liquid sugar over a flame. Your mind has melted away so utterly you can’t do anything but reach your fingers through his hair and chant his name. 
“Caleb,” Your voice is unfamiliar to you. Worked up beyond any rational understanding.. “Caleb, Caleb, Caleb.” 
Closer and closer, Caleb remains completely persistent in his efforts. Licks your clit and laps up all the arousal that spills - silky fluid like ambrosia to the unending heat of his mouth.
The knot tangled inside of your body unravels with an alarming speed. Makes your eyes go wide before you shut them again hard, your spine arching off the bed - every muscle in your body going unbearably tense as Caleb’s tongue toys with your clit. The filthy sound of licking making your ears ring. 
Your body goes taut. It feels like a calamity. A pure rapture, like God himself is bringing pleasure. The kind that can only be derived from being your maker. Caleb has that in common with him, you think. 
Your voice rings loud, hands fisted in his hair. You’re cumming hard, and fast, and there’s white behind your eye-lids. Smatterings of bright stars as you press them shut. 
You cum so hard you can’t breathe. For a brief moment you’re weightless before it all comes crashing down in one swift go. Caleb eats you out through it relentlessly and your voice breaks on the syllables of his name - asking for mercy and receiving none. It feels so good it terrifies you. Your body is trembling, cunt spasming around his tongue as Caleb continues his assault. 
You feel something wet rush out of you but Caleb is undeterred. He drinks it all down, every last drop until he’s satiated at least some of his endless, terrifying thirst. 
When he pulls away from your pussy, his mouth is soaked in saliva and your cum. He looked the most satisfied you’ve ever seen him in your life. You’ve never been so scared of someone while being so unbearably aroused in the same breath. 
“You taste so fucking good. Better than I dreamed in my entire life. Need to taste it again. I almost don’t want to do anything else.” He laughs breathlessly. “Almost.”
“Caleb,” You whimper. completely helpless as you try to catch your breath. “Fuck, ‘m still cumming,” 
“Gonna make you cum over and over and over.” Caleb says cheery. “Promise,” 
After cumming the first time, your body's sensitivity increases tenfold. Where you think it’ll cool off the glaring heat, melting you down to your core - all it does is turn it higher, make the feeling more tangible. Caleb’s offer to make you cum again excites you more than it scares you. You stare at him when he comes up for air.
“Kiss?” 
“Even after all that?” 
You nod sheepishly. 
“Jeez. How cute can someone be?” 
He comes up for a kiss, surprised when you lick into his mouth. You like tasting yourself on him, tongue dipping in for more. Caleb smiles at your enthusiasm, eyes lidded when he pulls away. 
“Open your mouth,” 
You give him a blank stare but do as he says. He puts a hand on your throat, tipping your head back before you feel something warm hit your tongue. Your eyes meet Caleb’s in surprise, instinctively swallowing the spit as it slides down your throat. Caleb meets you with an eager kiss, a gentle affection in his voice. “Good girl.” 
Something washes over you hearing the praise. A soft moan into his mouth that leaves Caleb with raised brows. “You like hearin’ you’re my good girl, huh?” 
Your face feels hot. “...Maybe,” 
“Still so bad at lying, pipsqueak. Some things never change,” 
The affection in his voice makes you forgive him. You know the tone, the sound—the lilting coo of your older brother's voice when he’s teasing you. It’s a way of speaking you could recognize in a heartbeat, the kind of voice that you’re anxious without. It shouldn’t soothe you in this context, shouldn’t make your pussy feel so achy when you know exactly how he’s addressing you. 
Caleb kisses down the length of your body again. Neck to navel until he settles down between your thighs. You can’t mask your surprise. Caleb looks up at you from between your legs. 
“What? You thought one time would be enough for me?” 
Truthfully, yes. You’re a little startled at the thought he’s going to do it again. Make you feel all of that again. An anticipatory shiver makes you squirm but Caleb holds you in place. He presses another kiss to your clit. “One time doesn’t even come close to being enough.” 
True to his word, Caleb starts the process all over again. 
The second time around, he doesn’t let himself up to breathe. You’re locked in place as his increased familiarity with your body has him driving you over the edge even faster. Firm grip on your thighs, face buried between your legs - he laps at your clit for what feels like an endless amount of time. The pleasant warmth of his mouth paired with the focused, precise licks on your sweet spot make your body wrack with an impossible pleasure. It’s gentle enough to not be completely overstimluating - but his endurance, his persistence in doing it makes your experience a new high. A trembling mess of limbs and quiet, desperate pleas. Too much, too fast - toes curled as he hoists your legs over his shoulders to give him full access. Clit pulsating, stiff under his tongue with his nose bumping occasionally. 
It feels so good you’re almost content to let him stay there. Let your mind wash away and succumb to the gluttony tying you to the bed. You cum twice again from the pressure - your body experiencing each one longer. Unable to withstand it, your hands clenched tight trying to level yourself with the feeling. A pleasure you’ve never experienced, the kind you doubt you’d be able to feel with someone else. 
Caleb has always been like this in that respect. Your older brother who set the standard for every other man you ever came across. You were always using him as the gold standard, comparing every man you’ve ever met to him. Especially ones who claimed to like you. What would your brother do, how would he act, how would he treat you. He’d never tell you if you were too much. Never call you spoiled even when you act it, embody it so why settle for less? Why want for something else? For someone else?
It’s not surprising that Caleb touches you with the same level of care he’s always given you. Even less surprising that your body longs for it so desperately. 
Caleb is your big brother after all. He takes care of you like this. No one else gets to have it. It makes you entitled, moody, and emotional just to think of him acting this way with someone who isn’t you. 
Yearning and deep affection well up inside of you as these things cross your mind. Whisper to your longing as a deep, endless need overwhelms your mind. Your third orgasm steals the breath out of your lungs. A shockwave of emotions washes over you, as you tug at his hair. You let out a throaty whine. 
“Caleb,” You whimper, pulling him off. “Caleb,” 
Attuned to your emotions, Caleb is quick to pull away when he hears the audible distress. He pulls away from you, worried. “Shhh, hey. It’s okay, I’m here. Did you want to stop?”
You shake your head rapidly. Caleb gives you a small smile. “Just being a crybaby, then?” 
The truth is, yes, just a little. You can’t voice this to Caleb so you instead give him some unknowable, unreadable look. He reads it almost instantly, shifting himself to hug you tight. Without any words at all, like he knows every single thought that passes through your mind. You wrap your arms around him and nudge your nose against his neck. He smells familiar. 
“This what you wanted?” 
You nod against him. Caleb’s heartbeat is steady in a way that brings you bone deep comfort. 
“Be more pampered with me. More selfish, more demanding, more spoiled. Gege will do anything for you, so don’t hesitate.” 
Hearing him refer to himself that  way makes your stomach flip. You nuzzle yourself deeper into him, aroused by the sound of his laughter - playful but smug. You speak against his chest, words muffled. 
“Want it inside right now,” 
His breath hitches immediately. “Yeah?” 
Another nod. You pull away to look him in the eyes when you ask. You know how to beg Caleb for something. You’ve been doing it your whole life, and right now is the most sincere you’ve ever been. Doe-eyed and full lips, all covetous and coy the word falls from your mouth with ease. 
“Please,” 
It has the exact impact on him you want it to have. Groaning, the outline of his cock twitching with a shameful lust, almost blanking out at the thought. He scrubs a hand over his face. 
“You’re gonna kill me,” 
“Please,” You repeat. Caleb kisses you as if to stop you from saying it again. 
“I have to stretch you out on my fingers. It’ll hurt otherwise,” You open your mouth but Caleb cuts you off. “Don’t say it’s fine.” 
“Caleb,” You whine and he laughs sympathetically. 
“Be a good girl,” He placates, and it works on you just as maddeningly as your begging does on him. “Hm? For me?” 
You melt. How embarrassing.”...Fine,” 
He coos at you lovingly and you make no effort to deflect. You can’t. Your usual fire and wit, your banter is dissipated. Brain thoroughly undone from so many orgasms and the deep, aching want in your cunt - so apparent it makes you want to sob. A desperation to be full that you didn’t fathom existing in such a bodily way, something you thought only existed in porn. 
Sensing how strung out you are, Caleb changes positions again. Instead of laying between your legs, he curls up besides you. He turns on his side, sliding an arm underneath and hugs your body close to him. Like he’s cradling you. Your legs slot together, one of yours between both of his - your other leg on the outside. Caleb hikes your thigh up - high enough to have your legs spread. The arm not supporting your back is supporting you, his forearm underneath your thigh.
At this angle, you’re face to face. Caleb can see you clearly as he cradles you in his arms. A large hand squeezes your ass before reaching around - teasing your clit with long fingers.
You feel
small like this. It’s the way you’re being held. The feeling of Caleb’s arm under your back, sliding up to hold your neck. 
His fingers are exceptionally long. Slender and thin, with thick veins from wrist to pinky, more appearing less visibly to the rest. His palms are big- making up the bulk of their size. You feel yourself fixating on them in their movements. 
On the calluses on them from handling guns, to the few thin scars from your childhood that have remained on his body into adulthood - now scarred. The way his fingers caress you, stroke your clit slowly. He kisses you again with a silent question like: you like this, right?
The eagerness of your tongue into his mouth answers it for him, a puppy keen on greeting it’s owner. Caleb laughs sweet into your mouth, encouraging you with all the kindness he has in him. His fingers slides through your slick folds impressed until he reaches low enough to be at your hole. 
You’ve put your own fingers in there before. You think you can handle someone elses. 
You find out fast that you can’t. 
Caleb’s fingers are long. They’re thicker than yours, and longer than yours - and just the first one gives you a stretch you're not expecting. You shudder, a noisy breath. It’s an intrusion, a noticeable one. Caleb is careful, though. It’s easy for him to push the digit it when you’re so wet inside. A soft squelching noise makes your skin burn hot but Caleb goes on undisturbed. 
His finger reaches deep. He fucks it in so slowly and so carefully but it feels like it never ends. All the down to the knuckle with just the one, you find yourself shuddering. Caleb is quiet, but you can hear the labor in his breaths. Feel his cock pressed against your inner thigh and twitch. 
You moan his name instinctually - not for any particular reason and he says nothing. Just thrusts his finger in and out. How can something feel so different on the basis it’s someone else? You can’t hold still, rocking your hips against the sensation. Caleb groans unabashed. 
“You want it so bad, huh?” He says, half-delirious and so pleasantly smug. You nod  immediately. 
“A little more. Hang in there, okay?” 
Okay, you think. You’d do whatever it takes in the moment for Caleb to fuck you more quickly so you bite in the side of your cheek and try not beg stupidly each time he repeats the process. Another finger, longer than the last - stretching out, reaching deeper than anything has ever gone in your life, thrusting until your pussy takes it. It surprises you to know just how much you can take when you take three and you really feel  it. How soft it is inside.
“Enough,” You whisper hoarsely. 
Caleb doesn’t heed your request. Another finger goes in. It takes four for him to finally feel like it’s enough. Four fingers stroking from the inside out, an almost brutal precision curling against your g-spot. Not enough to cum, just enough to get so wet he can’t pull his fingers out without the filthiest noise you’ve ever had to follow it.
Completely out of your mind, you grab onto him weakly. Every ounce of shame and sense gone. 
“Caleb,” Your voice is a pant. “Fuck me. Please, please—just do it,” 
His own voice is no better than yours. “Gotta grab a condom from my—” 
Your voice is vicious. Like you’re lashing out at him. “No. Fuck me.” 
Caleb is quieted by it. Unsure of how to react. “Don’t be like that, baby.” 
A reprimand. Soft as ever. Tears well up in your eyes immediately. “Please hurry,” 
“We have to use a condom next time, okay?” 
You hear nothing that comes out of his mouth except the words next time, and nod. 
He gives in. You’re thankful he always does. You’re at your wits end and you don’t know if your body can handle any more waiting. Not getting what you want with Caleb unsettles and upsets you. Especially this strung out. 
Caleb rolls onto your back again after he pulls his fingers out. You whine at the loss, unwittingly falling onto your back with both legs open. Presenting yourself in some impossibly obedient way that you can’t catch quick enough to stop, knees bent and up in the air. Waiting impatiently for Caleb to follow. 
He follows suit moments later. His hand resting on your knees to spread your legs for him, taking in an eyeful of you as he stands on his own. 
At the angle you’re laying and with nothing to distract your senses - you can see Caleb in full shape. Your body responds in kind for you, throbbing between your legs as you cut his figure. Tall and strong and broad, visible muscles and deltas. There are veins above the lowcut of his waistband, thick and tempting. A little lower than that - a patch of dark hair that leads to

Your throat feels dry seeing Caleb’s cock standing to attention, just underneath his sweatpants. Eyes blinking rapidly trying to make sense of it. How it strains, a wet patch where it ends. Your breathing slows significantly. Your mouth watering, mind fizzling like a bottle of champagne. The ache in you urges deeper, hand going between your legs to soothe it. Or maybe welcome what's coming. 
Caleb is breathless. Amusement undercut by lasciviousness. “Enjoying the view?” 
You nod stupidly. Caleb grins a little. Makes a show of hooking his thumb into the top of his sweats and tugging all the way down. A thick trail of hair and the smooth, uncut outline of his cock has you gasping. When he tugs his pants all the way pas his thigh, you feel completely speechless. 
He’s huge. Utterly. Too heavy to stand on its own, uncut, veiny. You blink in disbelief, like everything in the room has paused. It’s burly. Ridiculous. Thick enough to look like someone’s forearm. Pearls of pre-cum dribble of out of the tip, pulled back to be revealed. A ruddy reddish brown and angry. It’s darker then the rest, throbbing in a way that looks almost painful. It’s not the first time you’ve seen it but that was on accident in a bath before it was—
You stop your train of thought and just stare for an unknown amount of time.
He looks sheepish. The tips of his ears crimson red, all the way down to his chest. You make an unintelligible noise at the sudden change in attitude and also at everything else. 
A sensible person would feel fear. Not your strong suit. You don’t know if it’s bravery or lust that inspires the reaction in your body. You just know you want him to fuck you so bad you might jump  on him to get it. 
“We don’t have to get in today, princess. We’ve got time to—” 
“If you try to deter me one more time I’m going to run away from home,” 
Caleb closes his mouth. He just mumbles something, but obliges you right after. 
In what can only be considered a miracle, Caleb finally settles between your legs. His hands are on top of your thighs as he taps his tip against your clit, rubbing the pre-cum into the mess, The feeling of skin on skin elicits a gasp out of you both. His voice is shaky. 
“Might not last,” He says hoarsely
“S’fine.” You put a hand between your legs and spread your pussy open for him a little wider. A move from porn that works on him instantly. He swears hard under his breath, not giving himself a chance to indulge in the feeling long. 
Tip nudging through slick folds—Caleb finally, finally slides in. 
Another synchronised moan, sweat breaks out onto your skin as you feel the thick tip of Caleb’s cock finally come through. You feel full. It’s completely different from four fingers, more invasive on your body than ever. . 
It elicits a chain reaction. You watch Caleb above you, death grip on your hips trying to keep his composure and not fuck a hole through you. A horrible part of you almost wants him too, even knowing you absolutely wouldn’t be able to take it. 
You’re trembling. It feels ridiculous but you’re so worked up that - 
“Gonna c-cum,” 
Caleb’s eyes blow wide. “From—fuck. That ain’t fair, you can’t,” 
You buck your hips up and groan. He’s stretching you out so fucking good. One more time and it’ll hit that spot and it’ll feel so perfect, so right. You need it. Caleb shakes over you. 
“Mercy,” He says, not sober enough to laugh. You’re going to lose your mind soon. Maybe you already have. 
“I-s it all in?” 
“Half,” Caleb grunts. You moan at the thought. 
“Fuck me. Shit, please,” Your voice breaks high on the last syllable. Caleb looks like he wants to protest, wants to tell you to take it slow. But you can see it in his face that he’s reached his limits. Or maybe he reached them a long time ago and he’s already far gone. 
But he listens. Your jaw goes slack and he pushes in. Inch by tortuous inch until you feel him bottom out. Feel his hips on the back of your thighs. His cock is throbbing inside of you, silken walls clinging onto the shape like you’re being pried open. It doesn’t take anything. He shifts as he bottoms out and your voice comes out in garbled, unintelligible noise. 
“O-oh, ‘m cumming, cumming, ngh,”  Your back arches up that leaves your mind blank. Completely white out, nothing but static as you cum again. Cum around the hard, intrusive length of your older brothers cock - bullying into your cervix until it’s wet and pliable and fuckable for him. Stretching out like it’s his to shape and mould. You can feel it in your body, each vein and each curve. Caleb lets out a whistle. Sharp and so fucking dark, it exicites you helplessly. 
“She’s clingy just like you,” He says, fond but sneering. 
Your head spins when it dawns on you on what he’s saying. 
“Caleb—” 
“I feel conflicted. Are you naturally this gifted?” He laughs, folding over you. Overtaken by something. Bending you under his weight. “Or is it because it’s mine that you’re making it so easy?” 
“I was worried, you know,” He pulls out. The disappointment and gaping emptiness are brief. You hear the way your body refuses him pulling out. “Worried about how such a tight hole would fit something so big. Worried about your body, but you’re taking me in so fucking well. So perfect,” 
You’re panting. It feels so good. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, limp under the weight of it as Caleb gives you a slow few thrusts to get you used to the size. But you’re so stretched and sensitive it just feels fucking incredible from the jump. 
“Be a good girl and let me in.” You clench down on him. He grins to himself. “That’s it,” 
He bottoms out again. Slams hips and fucks you in one swift, unforgiving motion. Groaning, he puts his hands up under your knees, driving his dick into you with animalistic need. 
“Your pussy feels so fucking good. Too good. I’m never gonna be able to think about anything else. It’s not like I was before but you’re-” Out, back in. You haven’t made a single coherent sound. “You’re just too good. It’s warm and wet and still so tight, how are you still so tight, huh? It’s like you don’t want me to leave.” 
For a brief moment, the two of you make eye contact. The vivid color of his eyes burns bright, pins you underneath the weight of his gaze. It goes straight to your stomach, making it flip in one smooth go. 
“Tell me it’s okay,”  Caleb says, barely restraining himself. 
You look up at him confused. He suddenly looks like he’s at his wits end. 
“Tell me it’s okay to fuck you hard,” 
Like a woman possessed, you reach your arms around to squeeze his back and biceps. You put your mouth close to his ear as you bring him down towards you. 
“Gege,” He twitches inside of you. “Fuck me as hard as you can,” 
You underestimate just what effect it’ll have on you. On him. As quick as he possibly can, he pushes his hands under your knees and folds you into a mating press so deep it makes you scream. He’s pistoning you instantly, pounding into your pussy like he owns. Your nails dig into the muscles of his shoulders without realizing. 
“I love you,” are the only words that come out of his mouth. It has you clenching down even harder. “Gege loves you more than anyone else in the world, okay? More than anyone.” 
Just like that, Caleb fucks you. Given up on being gentle but still trying to make you feel good, trying to touch somewhere no one ever will again - he folds you up under the weight of his body and fucks you with relentless stamina. Your mind is gone. His cock is fat and heavy inside of you, splits your pussy open as the tip knocks against your g-spot with each thrust. His balls smack against your ass on each go. 
It’s too much. For your brain, for your body, for your insides - getting permanently rearranged like he’s crushing your womb. A feeling like it should be painful, but it isn’t because he’s got you so good and open. This a reward for you both. For his patience. Every thought wrung from your head, impressed by your body’s own avarice for cock. Addicted to the feeling of getting strethed, gaped completely open. It feels like you’re cumming without a clear end. 
Wanting Caleb to cum inside of you is a distant thought. Pleasant like a lullaby as your body yearns for it. Another sharp orgasm builds. It builds and builds and builds - and you know’re going to be fucked through it again. 
But this time Caleb is close. Right alongside you. Sweating and panting in your ear as he pounds into your frenzied. 
His voice comes out like a whine and it turns you on even more. You say it before he can think of pulling out, tightening your legs around his waist. 
“Cum in me,” 
Caleb grinds himself deeper. “Gonna cum in you, baby. I love you, I love you—fuck!” 
Pure euphoria floods your entire nervous system as Caleb bottoms out one last time. His cum fills your pussy in thick, long spurts. It feels hot as it takes, makes you shiver with how it feels. Disappointed at the idea it’ll flood back out. 
Caleb, still balls deep - continues suddenly. Where you think he’s gonna pull out, he doesn’t. Instead he fucks you again, this time more clear-headed as he rubs your clit - a hand between your bodies. His voice is shot. 
“Sorry. Don’t wanna be selfish. One more nice and easy, then we’ll clean up?” 
You have no room to protest. After all, Caleb is nothing but relentless when  it comes to spoiling you. You let him fuck another orgasm out of you until you’ve got nothing left to give. 
He collapses on top of you after your pussy milks what's left of him
You kiss when he does, sweaty and tired. You look at his blissed out face and kiss his nose with affection. 
“I love you too, Gege.” 
He pauses then laughs. Brightly. Hopelessly. 
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” 
__ 
You aren’t sure when exactly you pass out. 
You remember lingering with Caleb in his bed before limping into the bathroom. And a bath too, if your memory serves you right. You must’ve fallen asleep in the tub with Caleb, the broad warmth of his chest lulling you right to sleep. You’ve got good endurance from being a hunter, but you’re tuckered out just thinking about earlier. 
Also a little embarrassed. 
You wake on the couch of the living room. Cleaned, changed, and tucked into with a blanket over you. There’s a scent and the quiet sizzle of a pan. Your limbs feel heavy as you pick your head up. It’s still dark out but it seems like morning. 
You rub your eyes as you swing your legs over and place them on the floor.
Standing to your feet, you find slippers at the end of the couch and feel your heart swell ten sizes. You put them on before padding into the kitchen. 
Caleb is at the stove like you thought he’d be. You flush seeing his back covered in scratches and a bite or two - none you remember leaving. You know your body is in the same state if not worse.
You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his middle, pressing your face against his broad back. Your voice is small, embarrassed. Everything feels brand-new. 
“G’morning,” 
Caleb turns the heat down and puts the spatula on the counter top, turning to face you. He looks down at you with a boyish grin. Unfairly handsome, making you pout. 
“Morning, sleepyhead. Feel okay?” 
You tuck your face into his chest and nod. “Just a little tired. I don’t hurt or anything.” 
“That’s good, then,” 
You make a little mm sound and stay there for a while. Caleb is content to hug you until you pull away. 
“Caleb?” 
“Hm?” 
Your face feels warm. “...Kiss?” 
He stops, then beams. Dips his head down to catch your lips in a kiss that feels romantic and practiced, but doesn’t make you feel strange in a bad way. You’ve never had a boyfriend, not a real one. Does everyone feel butterflies like this? 
Maybe there’s something wrong with you. He pulls away and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 
“You’re less moody than you usually are when you wake up,” Caleb teases. “Good to know. An effective way to deal with your attitude is always welcome.” 
You frown at him, feeling furious for more reason than embarrassment. It’s really unfair how flirtatious he is. “Shut up,” 
Subconsciously, your hands are fisted as you cling to Caleb’s chest. With no shirt to hold onto you, your muscle memory finds it the most steady. They’re clenched hard from embarrassment and a flood of other feelings you need soothed. 
Caleb grabs your hand and unfurls them for you. Strong, warm, big hands grasp yours in their palm and open them both softly - fingers interlocking until you’re no longer so tense. Just melted away. 
“I’m right here,” He says. A wave of emotions passes over you. 
You hold his hand and squeeze it. Once, twice - it has a steadiness the grip of fabric doesn’t. 
You smile to yourself. Helplessly happy. Overwhelmed with pure, unrelenting love. 
“Yeah,” You say, more to yourself than anyone else. “You are,” 
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tsuyalovebot · 2 days ago
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make him lose his cool.
suggestive and sexual content. mdni, ageless blogs dni.
xia yi zhou / caleb x reader.
cw. drabble (~1k wc, written in one sitting. ignore any typos.) no sex, but caleb popping a boner like a victorian man. afab reader (that also wears bras). mc=reader.
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"caleb is an ass man!" "no, he likes tits!"
personally, i think caleb would have a near panic attack upon seeing your shoulder, elbow, or ankle.
he just does a really good job of pretending he doesn't mind it. after all, the two of you grew up together. he's had to put his hands on you many times — carrying, tending to scrapes and cuts, tickling you, ruffling your hair, squeezing your face. skinship was a language that the two of you were plenty fluent in.
but the year spent apart failed to maintain this, like some half-assed video streaming subscription, and caleb's the newborn fawn learning how to walk.
so what happens when he knocks on the room to his bedroom — it belongs to you now, technically — with a plate of breakfast before coming in, and he witnesses you sitting up, all sleepy and the neckline of his shirt slightly sliding down your shoulder?
he's going to throw himself off a cliffside. maybe even off skyhaven itself.
the plate hits the bedside table on your side with a loud clatter. none of the food spilled over, luckily. he has half a mind to garble some lame excuse about being busy and a quick good morning before trying to bolt.
but, caleb nearly snaps into two when you tug at the hem of his shirt, slumber still slurred in your words as you ask where he's going. there'd been no strength in that tug. yet, he stopped in his tracks all the same. he ends up listening to your grumbles, ones reminding him that it's his day off, remember? you promised you'd spend it with me.
"i gotta take a shower first," he chuckles, hoping his voice wasn't too shaky. please don't notice. please don't notice.
"but caleb," you keen.
god, it's like when he'd take leave from the academy for a few days just to go back to you and gran. always coming home to you, thoroughly acquainted with you not being a morning person but still making the effort to cling to him and savor every second you two spent together.
he assumed it would be the same now, but clearly, that was a mistake. because the coiling tension of warmth threatening to boil over in his stomach was nothing short of treacherous.
caleb does manage to escape; albeit pained by the half-awake whines behind him and the sound of you falling back into bed. god, how badly he wanted to cave into your demands. you don't even know the half of it.
he wonders if you've ever curled into his side of that bed he once slept on, seeking his cologne, his body, his warmth the same way he looks for your silhouette in every corner of this home. a melody he knows, but a name he can't quite place in this shell of a house that transformed in your presence.
regardless, it's really difficult to let this relationship rebuild organically when he was popping a boner over the slightest sliver of skin. the shower's streams are icy on his skin, the impromptu bath having thrown a wrench into his morning routine. he refuses to even touch himself. letting the proof of his sin soften under the biting cold of the water, despite the discomfort.
because nothing was more horrific than having his body react to you like a prepubescent teen discovering porn online for the first time.
caleb thinks he's safe after spending an hour in the bathroom, fingertips pruned and mind cooler than the iciest of planets. but as he's changed back into his clothes, he discovers you beside the door, a blanket around your sitting form and those eyelids droopy.
"pipsqueak? what're you doin' here?" he's crouching down — mortifying boner forgotten as he gathers you into his arms before he realizes it.
then, you stir. a whine muffled into the crook of his neck as you wrap your arms around him, the vibration seeming to ripple down his spinal column. the blanket falls from your body in the motions, and you're so soft compared to the firmness of his body.
his arms tighten around you on instinct and you let out a pleased sound and—
he stiffens. you weren't wearing a bra.
"caleb, you're done." you yawn, like the spoiled, pampered figurehead of royalty you are. you arch up into him, and he swears he feels several of his neurons die, dropping like flies in the empty cavity of his head.
"take me back to bed." he feels the air shift as you seem to inhale his scent. your voice softer, more content when you say, "i wanna sleep some more."
he's so fucking doomed.
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strwberri-milk · 3 days ago
Note
Hi!! ^^ May I ask how LADS boys will react to have a morning wood while sleeping with mc? Take your time, have a great day ! đ–č­
very mild smut under the cut
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Zayne's a little mortified. In his mind he's a perfect gentleman and the fact that he wasn't able to control his urges (despite this totally being involuntary) upsets him a little. He'll get up before you and try to sort himself up before returning to bed with you, not wanting to make you uncomfortable at all. If you seem receptive of it he'll just want to cuddle you before slowly grinding against your hips, taking his him time with you as it is something he likes to do.
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Xavier doesn't notice that he's hard until you start moving against him. His hips will start to lazily grind against you, sleep addled mind decided that it needs you more and more with each passing moment. He'll start to brush sleepy kisses along your skin, dry humping against you if you don't tell him to stop.
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Rafayel gets a little extra whiny if he wakes up hard for you. He'll run his hands over your body, trying to figure out if you'll reciprocate his desire for you or not. If you're feeling it then be prepared for the neediest, messiest sex you've had with him in a while. He's extra desperate like this, telling you how badly he needs you.
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Sylus doesn't do much. He'll just settle more comfortably against you but he won't force you into doing anything with him if you aren't feeling up to it. If you are then he'll be like Zayne - slowly sliding into you as his hands feel you up. He'd like you to warm him for a bit before moving onto the main event, peppering your skin in kisses.
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c0ffeejelly1 · 2 days ago
Text
Manhandling him
Multiple character headcannon
Authors note: UGH pls this whole things was for jokes bc I can’t really be that ask to make something I feel is good. Teehee. Also I can mischaracterise all I want okay let a girl dream pls. (POST-TIMESKIP!!)
Warning: man it’s like the smallest hint of the nasty freaky stuff
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“Babe, you got something on your face. Let me just
” You reach out to your boyfriend, making him look your way by gripping his chin firmly while you flick away a bit of ‘glitter’ from his cheek. “There you go.”
Strike one.
That was just the beginning of your strange behavior today.
“Hey baby, c’mere I wanna kiss
” you call him over from the other side of the kitchen counter, only to yank on his collar and pull him in for one hell of a snog. “Seriously, you have no business looking this good today.”
Strike two.
Just what was up with you today?
You just got home from work, and as he’s about to sit up to see you, you suddenly push him back down onto the couch, mumbling something about how much you “missed him”.
Strike three.
You run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your lips, but then you pause to check out his face.
Perhaps you took this prank too far

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The type to be oddly into it
“
are you hard?”
This snaps your boyfriend out of his thoughts.
He’d never ever ever thought he could find himself in a situation like this. this is the kind of stuff you see in movies, right? I mean, come on!
Just picture how mortifying it is to be turned on from someone mistreating you! It’s pathetic!
He can’t just blurt out, ‘oh hell yeah I’m hard’ in response to that question—why would anyone even think to ask that? What can a guy do in a moment like this except deny it?
“What? N-no!
” He glances away, feeling the weight of your intense gaze. “
maybe?”
When you raise an eyebrow at him, his mask crumbles entirely. There’s no use in pretending.
You’ve already seen right through him, leaving him no option but to retreat into a shadowy corner and disappear.
“Yeah.” He responds, his voice tinged with disappointment. “I
I am.”
Maybe it’s because of the way you handled him like he was nothing that made him so bothered.
Maybe it was the way you looked so desperate to have him that did it for him.
Either way, he’s discovered something about himself he never knew he ever had.
And make no mistake, you were going to exploit this discovery to the fullest.
“Have I told you how much I love you babe?” You pull back from his face after practically devouring it as he stands there, grinning like a lovesick fool, dishes still in hand.
“I think you should tell me more.”
“Wrap up with those dishes, and I’ll give you a demonstration instead.”
Be ready for one hell of a night cowgirl. Wink wink
Charcters: serizawa, armin, EREN, REINER, ukai, ATSUMU, Osamu, Gojo, CHOSO, leviathan, SATAN, DIAVOLO, IIDA, denki, tamaki, CHILDE, Cyno, sanji, LAW
The type to think you’ve finally gone crazy
you call out to him, noticing he seems lost in his phone. Yet, oddly enough, he flinches slightly every time you speak.
This reaction occurs whenever you draw near him, as if your voice startles him, even when you're just a breath away. It’s not that he dislikes your voice; rather, it feels like he’s a bit intimidated by you now.
What happened to the confident guy who was with you just two days ago? Why does he seem to be tiptoeing around you like a child with a fragile toy?
“Y/N
is everything alright?” He approaches you cautiously, maintaining a bit of distance, trying to balance his interest with a hint of hesitation. “You’ve been
um, I just wanted to check—are you upset with me?”
“Upset with you?” You set your phone aside, raising an eyebrow at him. “Why would I be upset? Did you do something wrong?”
That’s the very question he’s grappling with. Your passionate touches and fervent kisses have left him bewildered about your feelings.
Are you so enamored that you can’t help yourself, or are you retaliating for something he might have done? Suddenly, a thought strikes him.
“
If this is about how intense things got last night, I’m sorry, but you did ask for it when I warned you I wouldn’t hold back—” His words are cut short as your hand swiftly covers his mouth.
“No! No that’s—just no. It was a prank babe, a trend I saw online” you say, removing your hand and placing both on his shoulders. “Last night has nothing to do with today or any other day.”
“Not even you complaining about being sore?”
“Not even me complaining about
wait I never did that!”
“Yeah buts it’s easy to tell.”
Charcters: REIGEN, giyuu, giyomei, JEAN, KAGEYAMA, hinata, kuroo, OIKAWA, AKAASHI, geto, NANAMI, Solomon, IZUKU, Diluc, LAIOS, zayne, LAW (Sowy I can see him as both)
The type to also manhandle you
Did you honestly believe you could manhandle him without facing the same treatment in return? Come on this is your boyfriend we’re talking about, In fact, I think he’s thrilled that you can boss him around so effortlessly.
So thrilled that he makes it into a competition
“Okay let’s see who tackles the first person on the bed.” His eyes shine with enthusiasm as he confidently places his hands on his hips. “If I win I get to have my way with you, and if you win, you get to have me have my way with you. Deal?”
You pause for a moment to process his words “
uh, how is that fair?”
“What do you mean?” he replies, brushing off your concern with a grin.
“I think it’s perfectly fair. No matter the outcome, you get a nice little reward, right?” His voice dances with mischief as he nudges you playfully with his elbow, clearly trying to elicit a reaction.
You roll your eyes at him, feigning annoyance, before relenting, “I guess it’s not so bad..”
“Exactly! Now, I’m going to count down. Ready? 3
2
” Before you can fully grasp what’s happening, he lunges at you, tackling you onto the bed before he even reaches 1.
“H-hey! That’s cheating, you can’t do that!” But your protests are ignored, your boyfriend already having you wrapped in his warm embrace, his face buried against your neck.
“This is what you get for how you’ve been treating me today.”
“What are you talking about?” You pause for a moment, though you suspect he’s finally caught on to your little scheme. “You mean me kissing you like any normal woman would with the love of her life?”
“No. Just you touching me all weirdly
”
“Don’t say it like that you make me sound like a perv.”
“Maybe cause you are.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“
”
“
”
“I’m not.”
Charcters: RENGOKU, tengen, connie, NISHINOYA, hinata (yes again), kuroo (YESSS AGAIN), BOKUTO, TENDOU, MAMMON, DENKI (twice and what), kirishima, ITTO, rafayel, LUFFY
The type
yeah you ain’t doing that
Screw everything I just said in the intro. If you genuinely think you can manhandle this man and succeed. You’re crazy.
“Hey, come here, you’ve got something—” The moment your hand nears his face, he seizes your wrist, staring at you as if you’ve just committed a serious offense.
“What are you doing?”
“Uh
I’m trying to like get the little speck of glitter off your face.”
“We don’t own glitter?”
“Dust then?” He shoots you a skeptical glance.
“
sure.”
So that was an absolute fail

But you’re not ready to throw in the towel just yet. No way! You just need to bide your time until nightfall, when he’s all soft and cuddly. That’s when you’ll make your move.
As the evening unfolds and you’re prepping for bed in the bathroom, you catch sight of him reaching for something in the cupboard above you. This is your moment. The time to pull him in close and—
SMACK
“The hell? What was that for?” He rubs his forehead, clearly taken aback by your sudden move.
Who knew kissing your boyfriend could be this complicated? Somehow, you ended up colliding headfirst into him, and now he’s clearly fed up with you.
“That wasn’t how it was supposed to go
” you say with a shy smile, nervously scratching the back of your head. “You alright?”
You gently move his hand away from his forehead to check for any damage, and to your surprise, he lets you.
Wait a minute
 you actually moved his hand, and he’s okay with it? Is this manhandling? I think it’s manhandling. It’s manhandling.
“
I did it.”
“Did what?”
“I touched you!”
“??”
Pls stop confusing this man he’s already tired enough.
Charcters: dimple, akashi, MIDORIMA, aomine, sanemi, KAGEYAMA (yes again), TSUKISHIMA, iwaizumi, TOJI, LUCIFER, bakugou, AIZAWA, sylus, ZORO,
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rafayelxsylusho · 2 days ago
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How do the LADS men fuÂąk the jealousy out of you.đŸ„ŒđŸȘ
Caleb/Zayne
Sylus is next.....
TW: SMUT SMUT SMUT
NOTE: I'm a praise slut so if you like it drop a comment and if you don't you can also drop a comment!! â€ïžâ€ïžđŸ˜ŠđŸ˜Š
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CALEBđŸȘ
You hear Caleb's phone ringing, the sound echoing through the empty apartment. After a few rings, a female voice answers. She doesn't sound pleased.
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"Colonel Caleb's line. Who's calling?" Her tone is clipped and businesslike.
"Oh, um, hi. Is Caleb there? I mean, Colonel Caleb," you stammer, caught off guard. "It's y/n."
There's a pause, a beat of silence that stretches too long. Then the woman speaks again, her voice dripping with disdain.
"The colonel is currently unavailable. He's quite...busy at the moment. With matters of great importance" Her words are like barbs, each one sharp enough to make you wince. "I'm afraid he won't be able to take your call. You'll have to wait."
She hangs up abruptly, leaving you holding a dead line and a head full of questions. Busy? Unless...unless she meant something else entirely by 'busy'. A cold dread settles in your stomach as you ponder the possibilities, each one less palatable than the last. What is he doing? And with whom? The questions burn in your mind, eating away at your peace of mind. You tell yourself it doesn't matter but the sinking feeling persists
So you try a video call instead. You see the screen flicker to life, a face popping up that makes your heart seize in your chest. She's stunning, with high cheekbones, full lips curved into a smile, and eyes that glitter with a cold, calculating intelligence. Her blond hair is pulled back into a sleek bun, not a single strand out of place. She's beautiful, in a way that's almost too perfect to be real.
"Y/n," she says, her voice sounded annoyed. "I'm afraid the Colonel is...indisposed at the moment." Her gaze flicks to the side "He asked me to handle any...extraneous matters that might come up."
Your blood runs cold as you realize she's in Caleb's apartment. In his space. A wave of possessive fury rises up inside you, hot and all-consuming. Behind her, you catch a glimpse of a familiar wall, a painting you know hangs in Caleb's bedroom. The one he bought on a trip, the one he said reminded him of you. Seeing it there, behind her, makes your stomach churn with nausea.
"Will you let him know I called, please?" You ask, your voice dropping at the 'please'
"Oh, I'll be sure to tell him," she says, "Though I can't promise he'll call you back. He's...very busy at the moment."
She glances over her shoulder, towards the bedroom, and you catch a glimpse of Caleb's silhouette through the open door. He's facing away from the camera, but you'd know his broad shoulders and tall frame anywhere. The sight of him makes your heart clench, a pang of longing and desperation shooting through you.
Then she reaches out, and the screen goes black.
You're left staring at a lifeless screen, your heart pounding in your ears. The silence is deafening, the absence of him a yawning chasm in your chest. You feel it then, the first real flicker of fear. The cold, sickening certainty that he's slipping away from you, that you're losing him.
The hours tick by with agonizing slowness, each second stretching into an eternity as you wait for your phone to ring. You pace the length of your apartment, your eyes glued to the screen, willing it to light up with Caleb's name. But it remains stubbornly dark, mocking your desperate anticipation.
As the sun begins to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and red, a sense of dread starts to creep in, coiling around your heart like a serpent. He always calls. Always. No matter how busy he is, no matter what's happening in his life, he always finds a moment to hear your voice, to assure you that you're still the most important thing in his world.
As night falls, you find yourself curled up on the couch, staring at your phone as if it holds the answers to all your unspoken questions. The clock ticks on, the hands spinning with maddening speed, as the hours slip away and still...nothing.
You jerk awake, your heart leaping into your throat as the notification chimes pierce the early morning silence. For a disoriented moment, you think it might be a dream, a cruel trick of your desperate mind. But as you grab your phone with shaking hands, there it is. A message from Caleb.
Can I see you today?
The words are simple, a deceptively casual question.
Your fingers tremble as you type out a response, each word a battle as you try to keep the bitterness from your voice.
I'm afraid I'm busy today, and your friend mentioned you'd be rather tied up as well. No need to bother.
You hit send before you can second-guess yourself, a part of you hoping he'll insist, that he'll demand to see you no matter what.
With a heavy heart, you turn off your phone, shoving it into the depths of your backpack. You spend the rest of the day in a daze, your mind a tempest of unanswered questions and suppressed fears.
When you get off work you head to the familiar noodle shop, the warm aroma of the hot pot ingredients envelops you, a small comfort in the midst of your turbulent day. You place your order, the owner greeting you with a jovial smile, oblivious to the tempest raging inside you.
With your order in hand, you make your way back to your apartment, craving the solace of a hot meal and a chance to rest. The evening air is crisp, the chill of the night a stark contrast to the warmth of the hot pot nestled in your arms
Once you get home and as you step into your kitchen, the soft glow of the stove light illuminates the countertop as you set the bags down. The savory aroma begins to fill the small apartment, a brief moment of normalcy amidst the chaos in your mind.
Suddenly, a voice cuts through the silence, making you jump with a startled gasp. "You're late."
The voice is low, rough, and unmistakably familiar. It sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and a traitorous thrill. You know that voice. You know it better than your own.
You spin around, your heart pounding in your ears, to see Caleb sitting in the dark corner of the living room. He's draped across the couch, his tall frame taking up more space than seems possible. His silhouette is etched in shadow, but you can see the glint of his eyes as they watch you, following your every movement.
"Caleb," you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing here? How did you...?" The words die on your lips as the reality of the situation sinks in. He's here. In your apartment. Uninvited. Unannounced. Just like before. Just like always.
He rises to his feet, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he has all the time in the world. As he steps into the faint light, you can see the weariness etched into his face, the dark circles under his eyes a testament to a sleepless night. But there's something else there too. A tension. A tightness to his jaw and a cold, hard glint in his eye that makes your blood run cold.
"I wanted to see you," he says, his voice a low, rough rumble. He takes a step closer, then another, until he's standing just a few feet away from you. Close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body.
"But you said you were busy," he continues, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. "Funny, I don't see you working. I don't see you anywhere but here. With me." His eyes rake over your body, a slow, deliberate perusal that makes your skin prickle with goosebumps.
You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry as the desert. You try to speak, but the words catch in your throat, sticking like shards of glass. He's right. You were busy. Busy ignoring him. Busy trying to forget the way your heart ached for him. Busy trying to convince yourself that you didn't need him, that you could survive without his constant presence in your life.
"I...I didn't..." you start, but the words ring hollow even to your own ears. You look away, unable to meet his gaze, unable to confront the accusation in his eyes.
He takes another step closer, closing the distance between you until he's standing mere inches away. You can feel his breath on your face, hot and heavy, the scent of him filling your nostrils and making your head spin.
"Don't lie to me," he growls, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "I know you saw my messages. I know you ignored them. Just like you ignored my calls. My texts. My emails.
His hand comes up, his fingers curling around your chin as he forces you to look at him. His grip is firm, almost painful, a silent warning not to lie.
"I was told you were busy yesterday, I didn't want to interrupt your...activities"
Caleb's eyes flash with a sudden, fierce light at your emphasis on the word. He takes another step forward, closing the remaining distance between you until you're standing toe to toe. His tall frame towers over your smaller one, his broad shoulders blocking out the dim light from the kitchen.
Caleb's eyes narrow, his gaze sharpening with a dangerous intensity. "Lila," he says, his voice a low, clipped response. "She mentioned something about me being...busy yesterday?" He takes another step closer, until he's invading your personal space, his chest nearly brushing against yours.
"Tell me, Pipsqueak" he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, threatening purr. "Is that really what you thought? That I was so...busy with her?" His hand comes up, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a gesture that's almost tender, almost loving...but with a underlying edge of possession that makes your heart race.
"You think I have time for anything else? For anyone else? When all I think about is you?" His thumb traces the curve of your bottom lip, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "When all I wanted was to be here? With you?" His other hand comes to rest on your hip, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, pulling you closer until there's no space left between your bodies.
"I did have a meeting at my place," he confirms, his voice tight and clipped. "Lila was there as my assistant, taking notes and filing reports. It's her job to answer my calls, to make sure I'm not disturbed during important matters."
He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, "But she never mentioned a thing about you calling. I didn't know until now."
Caleb's eyes widen in mock surprise, a cruel smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Are you jealous?" he repeats, his voice dripping with disdain. "You think I didn't notice how you clammed up when I mentioned Lila? How you couldn't even look me in the eye?"
He throws his head back and laughs, a harsh, grating sound that echoes through the apartment. "Oh, y/n. My sweet, naive little girl. You really thought I didn't see the green monster rearing its ugly head? The way your pretty eyes flashed with anger"
He leans in closer, his face mere inches from yours, his eyes glinting with a wicked, triumphant light. "You can't hide anything from me, pipsqueak. I know you too well. I can read every thought, every feeling, every stupid, childish emotion that flits across that beautiful face of yours."
His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a mocking, patronizing gesture. "But let's get one thing straight. I have bigger things to worry about, like your safety, things that don't involve playing nursemaid to a bratty little girl who can't control her own emotions."
He pulls back slightly, his eyes hard and cold as he stares down at you. "So don't give me that bullshit about ignoring me because you were jealous. I won't stand for it. I won't tolerate it. Not from you."
He crushes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, pouring all of his anger, frustration, and dark desire into the forceful embrace.
He kisses you like he owns you, like he has every right to claim your mouth, your body, your very soul. His tongue pushes past your lips, invading, conquering, laying waste to any resistance you might have had.
You can feel the heat of his anger radiating off of him, the intensity of his emotion almost palpable. He's not just kissing you - he's devouring you, consuming you, determined to brand himself onto your very being.
He's not gentle. He's not tender. He's giving you a raw, brutal taste of the turmoil and anguish he's feeling, pouring all of his dark emotions into the violent kiss. It's a kiss that demands surrender, that insists on domination, that refuses to accept anything less than total submission.
When he finally pulls back, it's only to allow you a single, gasping breath before he's diving back in, his lips and tongue and teeth attacking your mouth with renewed fervor. He's not going to let you speak. He's not going to give you the chance to explain. He's going to silence you with his kiss, going to claim your mouth and make it his own until you have no choice but to submit to his will.
Caleb breaks the brutal kiss, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. He stares down at you, his eyes wild and fevered, a strand of saliva connecting your lips. His grip on your throat remains firm, his fingers digging into your skin with a possessive force that sends a thrill of fear and excitement down your spine.
"All I've ever wanted...since I was a kid...was you," he rasps, his voice a low, desperate growl. "No one else. No one could ever compare to you. You're mine. You've always been mine."
He leans in closer, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath coming in hot, ragged puffs against your skin. "I've loved you for so long...too long. I've watched you grow from a gangly, awkward girl into the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. And through it all...through every fucking moment...you've been mine."
His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, a mocking, patronizing gesture that makes your heart race. "And I must say...I do enjoy seeing you burn with jealousy. It's a rare and precious thing, to see my sweet, innocent little girl so consumed with possession and desire."
He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "But I won't allow it. I won't tolerate such base, uncontrolled emotions from you so first...I think you need to learn a lesson in self-control. And I'm going to be the one to teach it to you. Starting....right....now."
Caleb's eyes darken with a hungry, possessive gleam as he stares down at you, his grip on your throat never wavering. "I want you naked," he commands, his voice a low, demanding growl. "Now."
He takes a step back, giving you just enough room to obey his order. His gaze rakes over your body, a predatory gleam in his eyes as he waits for you to comply.
When you hesitate, too stunned and frightened to move fast enough to suit him, Caleb's patience snaps. A low, dangerous growl rumbles in his chest as he steps forward once more, his hands coming up to the hem of your shirt.
"Fine. If you won't undress for me, then I'll undress you myself," he snarls, yanking your shirt up and over your head in one swift, rough motion.
With a harsh wrench, he pops open the button of your jeans and drags down the zipper, the metal teeth screaming in protest. His fingers hook into the waistband and he tugs sharply, dragging your jeans down your legs along with your panties.
You feel the cool air of the apartment against your now bare skin, raising goosebumps on every inch of your flesh. Caleb's eyes rake over you greedily, taking in every dip and curve, his gaze lingering on your most intimate places.
He reaches out, his fingers trailing over the swell of your breast, teasing the sensitive flesh. "Had you simply obeyed, perhaps I would have been gentler with you. But now..." His hand suddenly squeezes, hard enough to make you gasp. "Now I think you need to be punished for your defiance."
Caleb drags you by the hand into your shared bedroom, his grip tight and unyielding. He sits down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, and reaches down to undo his belt and pants. The leather strap clanks against the wooden floor as he pulls it free, the sound echoing in the tense, charged air of the room.
With a few deft movements, he undoes his fly, the zipper sliding down in a rush of movement. He reaches inside, pulling his hard, aching cock free from the confines of his pants and boxers. It springs up, thick and heavy, the swollen head already glistening with beads of precum.
He wraps a hand around the thick shaft, stroking it slowly as he looks up at you with a dark, hungry gaze. "Come here," he orders, his voice a low, demanding growl. "Get on your knees. Now."
Caleb watches intently as you slowly sink to your knees before him, his eyes burning into yours with an intense, possessive gaze. He takes in the sight of you, naked and vulnerable, kneeling submissively at his feet. A dark, wicked smile spreads across his face as he sees the way your lips, soft and full, part slightly in trepidation.
He reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. He traces the delicate curve, feeling the silken texture, before pressing down slightly, forcing your lip to dimple between his thumb and finger.
"Such pretty lips," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with a hungry, predatory light. "I love how they feel wrapped around my cock, how they stretch and strain as I fuck your mouth.
His grip tightens around his hard, throbbing shaft, stroking it slowly as he stares down at you with a dark, lust-filled gaze. "Open your mouth, y/n" he commands, his voice a low, demanding rasp. "Take me inside you. Show me how much you want it"
Caleb's heart races as he looks down at you, your eyes wide and upturned, gazing at him with a mix of fear, anticipation and reluctant desire. He's always been captivated by the way you look at him, the way your eyes seem to see right into his very soul. It's a look he's seen countless times before, ever since you were both young and innocent, playing in the sun-dappled rooms of your childhood home.
"God, I love the way you look at me," he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion and lust. "With those big, innocent eyes...like a doe caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. Helpless. Captivated. Unable to look away."
His breath hitches as he feels your soft, plump lips wrap around the swollen head of his cock. A low, moan escapes him, his fingers tightening reflexively in your hair as the slick heat of your mouth engulfs him. His hips jerk forward slightly, instinctively seeking more of that heavenly sensation, more of the tight, velvety caress of your lips and tongue.
"Fuuuck..." he growls, his voice strained with pleasure and a dark, possessive hunger. "Your mouth... So hot. So fucking perfect."
He stares down at you, his eyes glazed with lust as he watches you take him in. The sight of your lips stretched around his thick cock, the way your cheeks hollow as you begin to suck, it's almost too much for him to bear.
"More," he demands, his grip on your hair tightening as he tries to pull you further onto his shaft. "Take more of me pretty girl"
When you take him deeper, relaxing your throat and allowing more of his thick, pulsing shaft to slide past your stretched lips, Caleb throws his head back with an animalistic groan. His fingers tighten harshly in your hair, gripping the strands almost painfully as he fights the urge to thrust deep and hard, to bury himself to the hilt in the tight, clutching heat of your throat
He stares down at you, his eyes wild and fevered, taking in the obscene sight of your lips wrapped around his shaft, the way your throat bulges slightly with his girth. The image seared into his mind, a snapshot of pure, carnal bliss that he knows he'll never forget.
"That's it, baby. Take it all. Take every fucking inch of me," he growls, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of not losing himself completely in the intensity of the moment.
But when Caleb feels your muscles contracting around his sensitive flesh, your throat working to swallow even as you suck him deeper, he can't hold back any longer. With a hoarse cry, he grips your hair tightly and yanks you off his cock, pulling you up and onto his lap in one swift, rough motion.
"Fuck, I can't...I need..." he pants, his eyes wild and desperate as he positions you to straddle his thick, muscular thighs.  "I need to be inside you. I need to feel your tight little cunt squeezing around me as I fuck you raw."
He grinds against you, his shaft sliding between your slippery lips, teasing your aching clit with each pass. His eyes bore into yours, blazing with a feverish intensity that makes your heart race and your core clench with need.
Caleb's eyes darken with lust as he hears your needy, desperate pleas spilling from your lips. A feral grin spreads across his face, revealing his teeth in a way that's almost predatory in its intensity.
"That's my good girl," he purrs, his voice a low, approving rumble. "So eager. So hungry for my cock. I love hearing you beg for it, love seeing you so desperate and wanton."
Without warning, he surges his hips forward, driving his thick shaft deep into your soaked, needy cunt with one powerful thrust.
"Fuck, baby," he snarls, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass hard enough to leave bruises. "You're so fucking tight every single time."
As Caleb feels your tight sheath clenching around him, gripping his plundering shaft like a silken fist, he knows you're getting close. He can feel the telltale flutters, the way your walls start to ripple and quake around his invading length. But he won't let you find your release, not yet. Not until you learn to control your emotions.
With a low, commanding growl, he unleashes his Evol, the gravity manipulation that's as much a part of him as the blood in his veins. You feel a sudden, inexorable force pressing down on you, pinning you in place against his lap, your hips locked against his. No matter how you try to rock or grind, to bounce on his cock and chase your rapidly approaching climax, you're held fast by the invisible, unyielding pressure.
"No, no, no," he chides, his voice a dark, wicked rasp. "Not yet, little one. You don't get to come until I say you can come. Your pleasure belongs to me, and I'll give it to you when I know you already learned your lesson".
He starts to thrust harder, deeper, grinding his hips against yours with a force that steals your breath and sends jolts of electric pleasure shooting up your spine. The head of his cock kisses your cervix with each plunge, the sensation pushing you to the brink of what you can take.
With each powerful thrust of his hips, each deep grind of his pelvis against yours, he uses his Evol to pin you in place, holding your writhing form immobile. You're forced to take every inch of his throbbing, steel-hard cock, over and over, as he pounds into your core with a relentless, punishing rhythm.
Feeling your desperate, anguished tears rolling down your flushed cheeks, tasting the salt of them as they drip onto your trembling lips, Caleb leans in, his tongue darting out to lap at the glistening trail. He groans at the heady, intoxicating flavor, a dark, wicked sound that vibrates through his chest.
"Mmm, delicious," he purrs, his voice a low, sinful rasp. "The taste of your pleasure, your frustration, your need...it's fucking intoxicating. I could get addicted to it, to you."
"Please..." you gasp against his lips, your voice hoarse and breaking. "Please, I need...I can't...please let me..."
"No," he growls, pulling back just enough to stare into your tear-glazed eyes. "No begging. Not yet. You don't come until I say you can come, until I give you permission to shatter on my cock."
The pressure of his Evol increases, holding you immobile, trapping you in this torturous limbo of pleasure and denial.
"Feel it, baby," he rasps, his lips curling into a wicked smirk against your skin. "Feel the way your body is mine, every inch of it. Feel the way your cunt squeezes and clenches, begging for permission to let go. But you won't. Not until I allow it."
"Count them," he demands, his voice a low, wicked rasp. "Count every thrust, every inch of your my cock stretching and claiming your greedy little cunt. Let me hear you, pipsqueak. If you count to 10 without missing a number I will let you cum"
And you start counting.
"One," you gasp, your voice high and tight as you struggle to focus through the haze of your impending climax.
"That's it, baby," Caleb purrs, his voice a low, approving rumble.
"Two," you choke out, your lungs burning with the effort of dragging in much-needed air. Tears of frustration and overwhelming sensation stream down your cheeks, but you're determined to earn your release.
"That's my good girl"
"Three," you pant, your voice growing weaker, more strained with each passing second. Your thighs tremble and quake.
"Keep counting"
"Four," you whimper, feeling your climax building, your core clenching and rippling around his thickness.
"Good"
"Five," you choke out, your nails raking down his back, leaving red lines of passion and desperation in their wake. 
"Fuck"
" Six," you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper, your lungs burning with the effort of drawing breath.
"Your pleasure belongs to me, your body belongs to me."
He leans in, capturing your lips in a brutal, dominating kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, conquering, possessing, swallowing your desperate cries of rapture. His hand tightens around your throat, squeezing just hard enough to make your head spin, your lungs scream for air.
" Seven," you choke out, your words garbled against his lips. Your nails claw at his chest, your body arching, writhing, trying to get closer, trying to escape. But there is no escape, only the relentless, punishing rhythm of his thrusts, the merciless pressure of his Evol pinning you in place.
"You got this pretty girl"
"Eight," you whimper, feeling your climax building to a crescendo, your core clenching and fluttering wildly around his thickness. You're so close, teetering on the very brink of oblivion, your every nerve ending screaming for release. 
"Almost done"
"Nine," you pant, your voice breaking, shattering. Your body is no longer your own, it belongs to him, to serve his pleasure, his twisted desires. You're his to command, his to control, his to claim.
"Cum for me baby" he says, his evol no longer keeping you in place.
"Ten," you cry out, your voice raw, ragged, barely recognizable. In that moment, as the word leaves your lips, Caleb hilts himself inside you, grinding his pelvis against yours, his shaft pulsing and throbbing as he finds his own release. Scalding ropes of his seed paint your insides, marking you, claiming you from the inside out.  Your body goes rigid, back arching, as your climax crashes over you with the force of a tidal wave. You scream your pleasure, a sound of pure, unadulterated rapture that echoes off the walls and bounces back to strike your own ears.
"Yes, fuck yes!" He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh, branding you, making you his. You can feel the dark, possessive satisfaction rolling off him in waves.
As the aftershocks of your shared climax slowly subside, Caleb lifts his head, his eyes blazing down into yours with a dark, almost feverish light. He looks at you like a man possessed, a man drunk on power and lust.
"When jealousy rears its ugly head again, when you feel that green-eyed monster threatening to consume you..." His voice drops to a low, warning growl. "...I want you to think of this moment. I want you to remember that you have nothing to be jealous about, that you are already more than enough for me."
He leans in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his words a dark, sinful whisper. "Count to ten, just like you did for me tonight. Count each beat of your heart, each breath in your lungs, and remind yourself that every one of them belongs to me. That every inch of you, inside and out, is mine to cherish, mine to protect, mine to love...forever and always."
ZayneđŸ„Œ
You stepped into Zayne's office, closing the door behind you. His gaze landed on you, a warm smile spreading across his face as he took in your presence. He leaned back in his leather chair, silver-framed glasses perched on his nose, making him look even more handsome and intelligent.
"Y/n, this is a pleasant surprise," Zayne said, standing up to greet you. He walked over and pulled you into a tight embrace, his muscular arms enveloping you. You could feel the strength in his lean body, honed by years of dedication to his craft.
"How are you holding up after yesterday's mission?" Zayne asked, concern etched in his voice. He knew the dangers you faced and always made sure to check on you afterwards. His hands gently caressed your back, offering comfort and support.
"I'm doing alright," you reassured him, nuzzling into his chest. "I just wanted to see you before your big meeting. I know how important it is and I wanted to wish you luck." You looked up at him, your eyes shining with admiration and love.
He leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, pouring his feelings into it.
Unable to resist the temptation, Zayne allowed his hand to slide down the side of your neck, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He squeezed your waist gently before pulling you flush against him, deepening the kiss with a low groan. You could feel his heart beating steadily against your chest, a comforting rhythm that always made you feel safe and cherished.
"Ahem, Doctor Zayne? Your meeting is about to start," a voice called out from the other side of the closed door, breaking the intimate moment.
He took a deep breath and nodded. "I'll be right there," he called out, his voice steady and professional despite the racing of his heart.
As you both stepped out of Zayne's office, the bustling atmosphere of the hospital enveloped you. Doctors, nurses, and staff hurried past, their footsteps echoing in the long, sterile corridors. Zayne walked beside you, his hand still clasped tightly in yours, a silent connection amidst the chaos.
Suddenly, Zayne's steps faltered, and he paused, his gaze fixed ahead. You felt him stop, and glancing up, you noticed his eyes narrow as he tried to recognize someone in the distance.
Zayne's eyes widened in recognition as the woman turned and began walking towards you both. His grip on your hand tightened reflexively, a mix of surprise and a hint of tension in his muscles.
You studied the woman as she approached, noticing the same look of shock and disbelief on her face, mirroring Zayne's expression. She was a striking figure, with long, dark hair and a confident, almost regal bearing. Her eyes, a piercing green, were locked onto Zayne, a gamut of emotions playing out across her elegant features.
"Zayne," she said, her voice carrying a slight tremble as she came to a stop a few feet away from you. "I can't believe it's really you." Her gaze flicked briefly to you, a flicker of curiosity and something else, something harder to define, flashing in her eyes before she turned her attention back to Zayne.
Zayne swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "Elena," he acknowledged softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a step forward, then paused, as if torn between closing the distance and maintaining the safety of the space between them.
The woman, Elena, took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the action. "It's been what, five years? Six?" She shook her head slightly, as if disbelieving the passage of time. "You look... good," she added, a faint blush staining her cheeks.
Zayne was silent for a moment, as if struggling to find the right words. "You too," he finally managed, his voice still low and slightly rough with emotion. "What brings you back to Linkon City after all this time?"
Elena's gaze drifted to you again, lingering for a moment before she spoke. "I'm here for a meeting. I didn't expect to run into you, of all people." She paused, then continued, "But perhaps... it's fate. A chance to catch up on old times."
"Are you here for the cardiovascular meeting too?" asked Zayne
"No, I'm not here for that meeting," Elena replied, shaking her head. "My research focuses more on the long-term effects of cosmic radiation on human biology." She paused, then added, "Though I suppose our work does intersect in some areas. The strain on the cardiovascular system from extended space travel, for instance."
Zayne nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Ah, I see. That's... interesting." He seemed to be processing this new information.
"Elena, let me introduce you to y/n," Zayne said, his voice regaining some of its usual steadiness. "Y/n, this is Elenaa, an old... friend of mine. We knew each other back in med school."
You smiled and extended your hand in greeting, a friendly gesture. "Nice to meet you, Elena," you said warmly, despite the slight tension you could sense between them.
Elena's gaze lingered on you for a moment, a flicker of something akin to curiosity and perhaps a touch of wariness in her eyes. She took your hand, her grip firm and confident.
"The pleasure is mine," Elena replied, her smile polite but not quite reaching her eyes. Her tone was light, but there was an undercurrent of something more beneath the surface.
Elena turned to Zayne, a tentative smile playing on her lips. "Zayne, I was wondering... would you like to catch up properly later today? There's a charming dessert place nearby that I've been dying to try. After all these years, I remember you had quite the sweet tooth." Her eyes glinted with a mix of nostalgia and a hint of flirtation.
"Yes, I'd like that," Zayne replied, a note of resolve in his voice. "It's been a long time, and it would be good to catch up." He paused, then added, "Just let me finish up here and we'll meet you there around 8 pm?"
"Excellent, I'll make a reservation for us then. 8 pm it is." She glanced at you, her smile softening slightly. "And don't worry, I'll make sure to keep the medical jargon to a minimum," she teased gently, a hint of playfulness in her voice.
You jumped in, a slight wince at the mention of the upcoming dinner. "Actually, that's okay, Elena. I have some things I need to take care of around that time anyway," you said, hoping to sound casual and unassuming. "You two should go ahead and have a nice catch-up. I'm sure you have a lot to talk about after all these years."
Zayne looked at you, a mix of emotions flickering across his face. You could see a hint of something, a silent question perhaps. He seemed to be searching your face for something, a sign that you were truly okay with this arrangement.
Elena nodded, a satisfied smile on her face. "Wonderful, then it's a date," she said, her eyes lingering on Zayne for a moment before she turned to you. "I have to get going now" With that, she gave a small wave and walked away, her heels clicking on the tile floor.
"Doctor Zayne, the meeting is starting now. We need you in the conference room immediately."
Zayne closed his eyes briefly, a flicker of frustration crossing his face at the interruption. He opened them again to look at you, a look of apology in his expression.
"I'm sorry love, I have to go. But I'll see you back at my house later, alright? Wait for me there." He leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.
As the day wore on, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on your own tasks, your mind constantly drifting back to the encounter with Elena that morning. Questions and curiosities about her and her past with Zayne lingered, gnawing at the edges of your concentration.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the city, you found yourself sitting in your own apartment instead of waiting at Zayne's place as originally planned. The empty room seemed to echo with the questions and doubts that had been swirling in your mind all day.
You tried to distract yourself with mindless tasks, but your thoughts kept drifting back to the image of Zayne and Elena together, their shared history hanging heavily between them. The way she had looked at him, the history in their eyes... it was hard not to feel a pang of worry.
You stirred from your restless slumber on the couch as the sound of a firm knock on your apartment door echoed through the quiet space. For a moment, you were disoriented, unsure of where you were or what time it was. The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the curtains.
Blinking away the lingering drowsiness, you glanced at the clock on the wall. It was well past midnight. You sat up slowly, your muscles stiff and aching from the makeshift bed on the sofa. The knock sounded again, more insistent this time.
As you unlocked the door and pulled it open, you found yourself face to face with Zayne. He stood there, his tall frame slightly hunched in the doorway, his hair slightly disheveled from the breeze outside.
The sight of him hit you like a punch to the chest. Relief, joy, and a lingering thread of uncertainty all swirled within you. He looked exhausted, his tie loosened and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the definition of his forearms visible. But his eyes, those striking hazel eyes, were filled with a warm affection as they met yours.
"Y/n," he said softly, a note of concern in his voice. "I'm sorry for the late hour. I tried calling, but you didn't answer." He paused, as if debating whether to say more. "Are you alright? I was worried when I noticed you weren't back at my place."
"I decided to come back to my place in case you wanted to take someone else back to your house tonight" the words came out of your mouth without thinking.
He took a step back, his eyes searching yours with a mix of surprise and hurt. "What are you talking about, y/n?" he asked softly, a note of bewilderment in his voice. "Why would you think I would do something like that?"
He was silent for a moment, his gaze never leaving yours. Then, his expression softened, a look of understanding dawning in his eyes. "Ah, love," he murmured, shaking his head slightly. "Is this about Elena? Did you think..." He paused, then sighed, running a hand through his hair.
Zayne looked at you intently, his hazel eyes filled with a mix of surprise and gentle understanding. He took your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze as he spoke.
"Y/n, are you jealous of Elena?" he asked softly, his voice low and filled with a note of concern. "Is that why you didn't come back to my place tonight?"
He was silent for a moment, searching your face for the answer. Then, he sighed, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand. "You don't need to be jealous, you know. There's nothing going on between Elena and me. We have history, yes, but that's all in the past."
"Elena and I dated for a few years during our time in med school," he explained, his voice taking on a slightly distant tone. "We were quite serious, or so I thought at the time. But as we graduated and pursued our careers, we realized that our paths were leading us in different directions"
You started to turn away, "What a coincidence, she is back now and maybe..." But before you could finish your sentence, Zayne pulled you back towards him, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. He tilted your chin up with his fingers, his intense hazel gaze locking with yours.
Then, he kissed you. It was a deep, passionate kiss, filled with a fierce intensity that stole your breath away. His lips moved demandingly against yours, a silent declaration of his desire and his love. One hand slid up to tangle in your hair, while the other pressed firmly against the small of your back, pulling you flush against his muscular frame.
Zayne kicked the front door shut with a firm thrust of his foot, the sound echoing through the apartment. Without breaking eye contact, he swept you up into his strong arms, carrying you effortlessly to the kitchen. He set you down on the counter, the cool granite a stark contrast to the heat radiating off his body.
Looming over you, Zayne placed his hands on either side of your hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of your clothes. His eyes, dark and intense, searched yours with an unreadable expression. "Why are you giving me that attitude, love?" he asked, his voice low and rough with barely restrained emotion. "You know you don't need to be jealous of Elena or anyone else. There's no one else for me but you." His grip tightened slightly, a silent emphasis on his words. "I thought I made that clear."
Zayne's voice dropped to a low, almost menacing tone as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Maybe I need to make it completely clear," he growled, his hands sliding up your sides, his fingers splaying across your ribcage. "Maybe I need to show you, in no uncertain terms, that you're the only one I want. The only one I crave."
He nipped at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before he trailed his mouth down the column of your throat. His hands continued their upward journey, pushing your shirt out of the way to expose more of your skin to his hungry gaze.
His fingers found the clasp of your bra, and with a deft flick, he unhooked it, allowing the garment to fall away. He leaned back just enough to drink in the sight of your newly exposed flesh, his eyes darkening with unchecked desire.
Zayne stood before you, his intense gaze raking over your partially exposed body. He reached out, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. With a swift, decisive tug, he yanked them down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.
He stepped back, drinking in the sight of you seated on the counter, clad in only your lace panties. His eyes lingered on your curves, the swell of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the length of your bare thighs. He didn't touch you yet, maintaining a maddening distance even as the air between you crackled with tension.
Zayne loosened his tie with deft, practiced motions, the silk slipping through his fingers as he slid it from around his neck. He circled behind you, the heat of his body a brand against your bare skin. You felt the smooth, cool fabric brush against your wrist before he began to wrap it around, binding your hands behind your back with a tight, secure knot.
As he worked, his fingers lingered on your skin, tracing the delicate bones, the soft flesh. He leaned down, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice a dark, possessive rumble. "And I'm only yours. And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."
With your wrists secured, he circled back around to stand before you. He had shed his tie, his shirt now hanging open at the collar, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his muscular chest. His belt was next, the leather slipping through the loops until it hung loose around his hips.
Zayne's eyes flashed with a dangerous glint as he stood before you, his tall frame towering and imposing. He reached out, his fingers curling under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his intense gaze. "I won't hold you," he said, his voice a low, commanding growl. "You need to keep yourself straight, no matter what. We wouldn't want you to hit your pretty little head now, would we?"
Zayne disappeared into your bedroom, returning a moment later with a silk tie in a deep, rich shade of blue - one of the spare ties he kept at your place for emergencies. He stood before you once more, the tie dangling from his fingers as he took in your bound wrists and partially nude form.
Then, he lifted the tie, the cool silk brushing against your cheek as he slowly, teasingly dragged it across your skin. He brought it up to your eyes, his fingers grazing your lashes as he carefully, meticulously folded the fabric and placed it over your eyes.
You felt the tie wrap around the back of your head, the knot tightening with a soft tug. Darkness claimed your vision, your world narrowing to the sound of Zayne's breathing, the heat of his body, the scent of his cologne. Your heart raced in anticipation, your skin tingling with goosebumps.
As the blindfold blocked out the world, your other senses heightened tenfold. Each breath you took was ragged and shallow, your chest rising and falling with growing anticipation. The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant sound of traffic outside and the steady, rhythmic sound of Zayne's footsteps as he circled you like a predator stalking its prey.
His fingers grazed your shoulder, a feather-light touch that sent a jolt of electricity down your spine. You couldn't see him, but you could feel his presence, feel the heat radiating off his body as he drew closer. The air grew thick with tension, with the promise of what was to come.
Suddenly, you felt his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh possessively. He yanked you to the edge of the counter, the cool granite a shocking contrast to the scorching heat of his body now pressed against yours. His breath was hot against your neck, his lips barely a hairsbreadth away from your skin. You could feel the rough stubble of his jaw, the firmness of his chest, the hard length of his arousal pressing insistently against your core.
Zayne's lips descended upon your bared breasts, his mouth hot and hungry against your sensitive skin. He kissed and nipped at the soft mounds, his teeth grazing the delicate flesh until he left a trail of marks in his wake. Each bite sent a jolt of sensation through you, pleasure and pain intertwined, stoking the fire building within your core.
He took his time, lavishing attention on every inch of your breasts save for the hardened peaks begging for his touch. His tongue swirled around the areola, teasing the edge before moving on, always keeping you on the precipice of where you needed him most. The anticipation was maddening, the emptiness between your thighs aching for his touch, his fill.
One hand slid down your stomach, his fingers splaying across your hipbone before dipping lower, skimming the waistband of your panties. Your breath hitched, anticipation coiling tighter in your core, your hips canting forward in a silent plea. But he denied you, his fingers merely tracing the lace edge, not dipping beneath to where you needed him most.
"Zayne..." you gasped, your voice a needy whimper. But he silenced you with a dark chuckle, the sound vibrating against your breast as he nipped at the tender underside.
Zayne paused his tormented ministrations, his lips trailing up from your breast to the column of your throat. He nipped at your racing pulse before murmuring hotly against your skin. "Lift your hips for me, baby. Lift them so I can remove these soaked panties that are no longer serving their purpose"
You lifted your hips, the movement causing your soaked panties to peel away from your slick, heated flesh, you couldn't help but gasp as it brushed against your aching clit. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine, your back arching off the counter as you struggled to maintain your composure.
Zayne didn't miss your reaction, a dark chuckle rumbling from his chest as he slowly, torturously peeled the panties down your legs. He took his time, his fingers grazing your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Once he had tugged the garment past your feet, he tossed them carelessly aside, his eyes never leaving your face as he drank in your expression of need and desperation.
"There," he murmured, his voice a low, approving growl. "Much better. Now I can see all of you, taste all of you." His fingers trailed up your inner thigh, his touch feather-light and teasing as he drew closer and closer to your dripping core. "Spread your legs for me. Let me see your pretty little pussy, swollen and ready for my touch."
You spread your legs, the cool granite of the counter a shocking contrast to the scorching heat radiating from your exposed, aching core. A breathy moan escaped your lips at the sensation, your body trembling with anticipation and need. The cool air hit your dripping folds, making you shudder and clench around the emptiness inside you.
Zayne's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your glistening, swollen flesh, the proof of your desire coating your thighs. He leaned in closer, his breath hot and heavy against your sensitive skin. "Fuck," he growled, his voice rough with unchecked desire. "Look at you, spread out and dripping for me."
He paused, his fingers hovering just above your dripping entrance, not quite touching, not giving you the relief you craved. "Is this what you want, my love?" he asked, his tone a sinful purr. "Do you want me to plunge my fingers into your tight, wet heat? To stroke and tease and curl them just right until you're writhing and begging for more?" His thumb brushed over your clit, a feather-light touch that made you jerk and gasp. "Or do you want something else? Something harder, something thicker, something that will stretch you wide and fill you completely?"
Zayne's lips curled into a wicked smirk against your thigh as he murmured, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "Or maybe you want something softer, something that can lick you in all the right places until you're trembling and crying out in ecstasy. Something that can tease and taste and savor every drop of your sweet nectar until you're drowning in pleasure and begging for more."
Without warning, he leaned in, his tongue delving between your slick folds in one long, slow lick. He groaned at the first taste of you, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh and sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he feasted on your dripping sex, his tongue swirling and flicking and stroking in ways that made you see stars.
Zayne continued his relentless teasing, his tongue exploring every inch of your dripping sex except for the one place you needed it most. He licked along your slit, his tongue delving deep to taste your essence before dragging slowly up to your hood. He circled your entrance, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh as he denied you the direct contact you craved.
His hands slid up your stomach, palming the soft swells of your breasts, all the while, his tongue continued its maddening dance, licking and tasting and stroking everywhere but your throbbing clit.
"Zayne, please," you gasped, your hips bucking desperately against his face, seeking that elusive friction, that perfect touch. But he was merciless, his grip on your hips tightening as he held you in place, preventing you from chasing your pleasure.
He dipped his tongue inside your entrance, fucking you with the slick muscle, his nose pressing against your clit as he drove you closer to the edge. But just as quickly, he pulled back, leaving you empty and aching, your walls clenching around nothing.
"Zayne, please," you whimpered, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes behind the blindfold. "I need...I need..." But you couldn't even form the words, too lost in the haze of sensation and desire.
Zayne pulled back slightly, a dark chuckle rumbling through his chest as he took in your desperate, incoherent state. "Tsk tsk, You silly girl, can't even form a proper sentence?" he taunted, his voice a low, mocking murmur against your dripping sex.
Zayne paid no heed to the dampness spreading across the frames of his glasses, the evidence of your arousal smearing across the lenses. In fact, he seemed to revel in it, in the depravity of the act, in the knowledge that he had reduced you to such a state of desperate, aching need. He licked his lips, savoring the taste, before diving back in for more.
Zayne continued his relentless teasing, his tongue swirling around your aching clit, never quite touching it directly. Each flick and lick sent bolts of electricity shooting through your body, your back arching as you cried out in frustration. He could feel your thighs trembling, your hips bucking desperately against his face as you sought more friction, more pressure, more of anything to finally push you over the edge.
Zayne abruptly pulled his mouth away, leaving your dripping sex empty and aching. Before you could form any words, he gripped your hips tightly and in one swift, powerful thrust, he impaled you on his thick, hard cock.
You gasped and arched your back as you were suddenly filled and stretched wide around his impressive girth. He didn't give you any time to adjust, instead setting a relentless, pounding pace as he fucked into you with deep, powerful strokes.
Zayne unleashed his evol abilities just as you needed him to. Suddenly, you felt an intense, tingling coldness grip your nipple, his powers allowing him to pinch and roll the sensitive bud between his icy fingers. The contrast of the frigid temperature against your heated skin sent a shockwave of sensation straight to your core.
At the same time, he pressed his thumb firmly against your clit, rubbing the aching nub in tight, rapid circles. The combined stimulation of his cock pounding into you and his evol-enhanced touch on your most sensitive spots pushed you rapidly towards the brink of ecstasy.
Your climax hits you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that stole your breath and your voice. You couldn't hold onto him, your wrists still bound tightly behind you, but your body convulsed and trembled beneath his as the intense pleasure consumed you. No words could describe the overwhelming sensation, no name could be screamed as your walls clamped down around his pistoning cock like a vice. All you could do was let out a primal scream of pure ecstasy that echoed in your ears as your orgasm ripped through every fiber of your being. Your eyes rolled back behind the blindfold, your toes curled, and your back arched almost painfully as you surrendered to the pure, unadulterated bliss of your release.
As you slowly floated down from the highest high of your life, you became vaguely aware of Zayne's movements. He had slowed his thrusts, his own release having passed unnoticed in the haze of your overwhelming orgasm. With gentle care, he carefully withdrew from your still fluttering depths, a mix of your combined releases trickling down your thighs.
Before you could open your eyes, you felt the soft brush of silk against your skin as Zayne tenderly removed the blindfold from your face. The sudden rush of light made you blink rapidly, your vision slowly coming back into focus. As your eyes adjusted, you found yourself staring into Zayne's intense, hazel gaze filled with a mix of satisfaction, affection, and a hint of the dark, primal desire that had driven him moments before.
Gently, almost reverently, Zayne leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your eyelids, his lips brushing away the tears of pleasure that had gathered there. His fingers trailed down to your wrists, carefully untying the silk ties that had bound them. He massaged the slight ache from your joints with a tender touch, his thumbs circling the delicate skin in soothing motions.
"I want this," he whispered, his voice low and filled with emotion. "I want us, together like this, for the rest of our lives. I want to wake up every morning next to your beautiful face and fall asleep every night with your body pressed against mine. I want to face whatever challenges come our way, hand in hand and heart to heart."
He paused, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek with a tender touch. "You're not just my lover, my partner in passion. You're my best friend, my confidante, my soulmate. And I promise to cherish you, to protect you, to stand by your side through every joy and every trial. I want this, y/n - I want you, forever and always."
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salemrph · 2 days ago
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Sleepy morning with Sylus
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A/N: While I was reading some other posts yesterday, I came across a user asking what it would be like to wake up next to Sylus. My imagination jumped on it right away! I would say this is more of a headcanon than a fanfic. I focused more how he would experience it. Short write, just because I'm working on other stuff.
Character: Sylus & Reader/MC/you
Genre: romantic, fluffy
Word count: 1,430 | Reading Time: 5 min
Background music
Your laughter echoes through his bedroom as you try to break free from his grip, his breath tickling your skin. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, pressing himself against your naked body. You smell incredible, so intoxicatingly good that waking up next to you must be heaven on earth.
You squirm and kick, already in tears from laughing so hard. He can't get enough of that sound, of the way you smile, the way you close your eyes and lean your head back. Your presence is like a flowerbed in full bloom, vibrant and breathtaking. Blooming in its full splendor.
Whenever he can, he admires you. When you sleep, he counts the moles on your body, tracing them with his fingertips. He caresses the scars you've earned as a fierce Hunter, kissing every natural fold of your skin. His touch follows the curve of your back, the delicate shape of your ass, down to your legs. The same legs that always wrap around him in the intensity of passion.
He loves you, more than he could ever show to you. It wouldn't be enough, ever.
"Sylus—"  you gasp between laughs, struggling against him as your muscles start to cramp.
"You have so much energy, kitten" you keep laughing, you are so ticklish this morning. His nose brushes against your neck before he nips at your skin, placing lazy kisses along your shoulder.
You squirm even more, still breathless from laughter. "I will pee myself... Stop!"
He hums against your skin, only tightening his hold. He isn't really awake, he wants to keep sleeping, enjoying the peaceful morning with you. Sylus has worked hard to clear his schedule, to be with you like this. To adapt to your routine, make breakfast, and simply enjoy a normal day at your side.
"Then pee..."  he teases. 
"Gross! Let go." You protest, thoroughly disgusted by his suggestion.
"Not even in dreams, sweetie" he chuckles while still kissing your shoulder.
"Sy..." you whine. That tone, the way you try to get your way putting that face, that tone in your voice. The one that makes his heart melt no matter how much he tries to resist. He growls, reluctant to release you completely. His grip tightening for a moment before he finally exhales and relaxes.
"Go. You have 2 minutes to come back". 
You waste no time jumping out of bed, only to earn a slap on your ass.
"Hey!" You spin around, shooting him a glare. Sylus only smirks.
"I like how it wiggles"
You disappear in the bathroom. Sylus shifts onto his back, crossing both arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling with a rare sense of peace. Yeah
 he could get used to this. No, he wants to get used to this. The wealth he possesses and everything he has done has been nothing more than a way to ensure your safety. The years he spent searching for you taught him that he had to be prepared for anything. Losing you again was not in his plans. And if the day ever comes when you no longer love him, it won’t change a thing. He would still protect you, even from the shadows.
He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice you sneaking back into bed. Carefully, you inch closer, suppressing a grin as you reach out to poke his cheek. But before you can even make contact, his hand shoots out, catching your wrist in a firm grip.
"Feeling playful this morning, my love?"
"Just a bit" you smirk. Sylus laughed.
"What do you want to play?" You tilt your head, pausing deliberately as your eyes drift over his bare chest, trailing down to his toned abs. The sheets rest low on his hips, and the way you’re looking at him doesn’t go unnoticed. He knows that look.
With effortless ease, he shifts, pulling you toward him until you land on top of his body.
His fingers brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering. The color of your lips is already beautiful, but he loves it even more when they darken after passionate kisses. His lips part slightly, his gaze locked onto yours, mesmerized by the infinite depth of your shining eyes.
You lean in, pressing tender kisses across his face before finally finding his lips. Your entire body relaxes, melting into him. Savoring the slow movement of your mouth. Heat growing in your body. Between you two. The kiss deepens bit by bit, his tongue tracing your lips, later moving beyond, slipping inside, tasting you. You sigh into him, already lost in the spreading feelings of longing.
His hand has already trapped you. One sitting on your back, the other on your ass, keeping you close. He is getting harder by the second. His need for you is growing. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips grounding you in the moment. There is no rush, no urgency. You have the complete morning and day to melt in each other.
When he finally pulls away, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath is warm against your lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he exhales deeply. This is a dream, he thinks. A damn good dream. And he has no intention of waking up.
One hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin. He doesn’t need to speak; everything he feels is in the way he looks at you, in the way he holds you like you’re something precious. You cover his hand with yours, pressing your cheek into his palm. A faint smile tugs at his lips before he kisses you again.
Sylus takes his time, enjoying how your body reacts to him, the quiet gasps, the way your fingers tangle in his hair. His name escapes your lips in a breathless whisper. He watches you with a quiet intensity, taking in the way you melt under his touch. The space between you disappears, lost in the unhurried way he moves. Once more, your worlds merge, your bodies speaking a language only the two of you understand.
That's how you start the morning: with him, with you, with nothing beyond these four walls mattering. Just the warmth of his skin, the rhythm of your hearts, and the love that neither of you needs to put into words.
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bootmilk · 2 days ago
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ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ âŠč . sylus' abyss. smut . sheノher — x reader ノ dub con . rough sex . knotting . degradation ノ size kink ノ corruption . overstim ノ blocking minors and blank or ageless blogs

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The ruins pulsed with a dark, living energy, the Abyss whispering in tongues long since lost to time. The air was thick, pressing against your skin, heavy with something more than heat—something ancient, something hungry. And at the center of it all, standing amidst the twisting, writhing shadows, was him.
Sylus.
He loomed before you, bathed in the eerie glow of abyssal light, his bare chest a masterpiece of raw strength and power. The deep ridges of his abs flexed with every breath, his muscles taut beneath obsidian skin, marked by pulsing veins of corruption. His long, curled horns cast jagged shadows against the walls, framing the wicked smirk tugging at his lips. His claws—long, black, and wickedly sharp—flexed at his sides, itching, waiting.
And then there was his tail.
Thick, powerful, covered in smooth abyssal plating that gleamed under the dim light, it twitched at his back, restless. The sharp tip coiled and uncoiled like a serpent waiting to strike. Then, without warning—CRACK.
It snapped against the stone floor, loud as a whip, the force shaking dust loose from the walls. You flinched. Your breath hitched.
And Sylus laughed.
“Skittish little thing,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. His red eyes gleamed as he stepped forward, slow, deliberate, his tail lashing again, this time closer, the sharp tip grazing your ankle. “But you’re still here.”
He tilted his head, horns gleaming in the dim light.
“Tell me
” His claws dragged lightly up your arm, over your shoulder, teasing the base of your throat. His chest was so close, heat radiating from his body, the Abyss pulsing with him. “Are you shaking because you’re afraid?”
You swallowed hard, your whole body tensed, burning under the weight of his gaze.
Then, soft—breathless—
“No.”
Sylus grinned.
And then everything snapped.
One moment, he was toying with you—the next, he had you pinned. His claws tangled in your hair, yanking your head back, exposing your throat to his hungry gaze. His body pressed flush against yours, nothing but heat and muscle and barely restrained power.
His tail curled around your waist, locking you in place. You gasped, feeling the ridges press into your skin, the plated segments flexing, tightening. You weren’t going anywhere.
“Smart answer,” he purred, dragging his lips down your jaw, your pulse hammering beneath his mouth. His claws trailed lower, over the curve of your hip, teasing at the edge of your clothes. “But let’s see if that confidence lasts.”
With one sharp motion, his claws tore through the fabric, shredding it like paper, leaving you bare beneath him. The cool air sent a shudder through you, but Sylus was already there, his hands, his tail, his heat swallowing you whole.
His tail uncurled from your waist—only to wrap around your thigh instead, spreading you wider. The plated ridges flexed, holding you open, vulnerable, exposed.
“Look at you,” he murmured, dragging a single claw over your inner thigh, making you shiver. “Dripping for me already. Needy little thing.”
You should have been embarrassed. But the way he looked at you—the way his tail tightened, the way his cock pressed against you, hot, heavy, thick—made shame the last thing on your mind.
And god, he was huge.
The length of him pulsed against your slick folds, teasing, spreading your wetness as he rutted against you, smearing himself over your skin. The heat of him was unbearable, the ridges along his cock dragging against your clit, sending sparks up your spine.
But it was the knot that made your breath catch.
Thick, swollen, not yet fully engorged, but already pressing against you with the promise of something brutal. Something meant to keep you claimed.
Sylus saw the way your eyes widened, the way your thighs clenched around him, and he grinned.
“Realizing what you got yourself into?” he taunted, voice a low, dangerous drawl. “It’s too late to back out now.”
And then he slammed into you.
The stretch was excruciating.
A sharp cry tore from your throat as he filled you in one brutal thrust, your body struggling to take him, to accommodate the sheer size of him. The thick ridges along his cock dragged against your walls, each one forcing you open wider, deeper, spreading you until there was nowhere left to go.
“Fuck,” Sylus groaned, his grip on your hips tightening, claws pressing into your skin. His tail coiled around you tighter, the ridges flexing, locking you in place. “So tight.”
He pulled back.
Then slammed in harder.
The wet slap of skin on skin echoed through the ruins, mixing with your broken gasps, your ragged moans, the sharp crack of his tail striking the stone every time he thrust deeper.
His horns bumped against your forehead, his breath hot against your lips. “You like this,” he growled. “Being stretched. Being ruined.”
Your nails clawed at his arms, finding no purchase against his unyielding body. And still, you gasped—desperate, shattered—
“Yes—fuck, yes—”
A dark snarl tore from Sylus’ throat. His grip turned bruising. His thrusts became relentless.
And then—you felt it.
The knot.
It pressed against your entrance, stretching you even further, pulsing, growing. Your breath hitched, realization crashing over you.
He wasn’t going to let you go.
Sylus groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Gonna take it,” he muttered, half a command, half a promise. “Gonna lock you onto me. Keep you full. Keep you mine.”
You gasped, legs trembling, pleasure coiling too fast in your stomach, unbearable, inevitable—
“Cum for me,” he growled, voice ragged, desperate. “Now.”
His tail snapped against the stone one last time—CRACK.
And you broke.
Pleasure slammed into you, white-hot and all-consuming, your walls clenching around him, milking him, pulling him deeper. Sylus snarled, his body tensing, his claws digging in as he gave one final, brutal thrust—
And locked inside you.
The knot swelled, stretching you past your limit, sealing you onto him, ensuring that every hot, shuddering pulse of his release stayed deep inside you. His cock throbbed, filling you, claiming you, branding you from the inside out.
Sylus groaned, his tail tightening around you, his lips dragging over your temple. His breath was heavy, his body still trembling from the aftershocks, but his grip on you never loosened.
When he finally lifted his head, his red eyes gleamed with satisfaction. His claws trailed lazily over your hip, smearing his own release against your skin.
“Youïżœïżœre not walking after this,” he murmured, smirking. “And we’re not done.”
His tail curled possessively around your waist, the ridges flexing again, locking you in place.
“You’re gonna take every drop.”
Your body trembled violently, your muscles clenching around him in aftershocks, and Sylus groaned low in his throat, his tail curling even tighter around your waist, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.
“You feel that?” His voice was hoarse, wrecked with pleasure, his claws ghosting over your sweat-damp skin, tracing lazy circles against your thigh. His breath was hot against your temple, sending shivers cascading down your spine. “That’s me, rooted inside you.” His fingers curled possessively into your hip, sharp claws leaving faint indentations. “You’re not going anywhere.”
As if to prove his point, his tail flexed, the ridged plating pressing into your lower stomach, pinning you back against the stone wall with an iron grip. You whimpered, still struggling to breathe through the relentless fullness, your mind swimming in the haze of overstimulation.
It wasn’t enough for Sylus.
He shifted his hips slightly, testing, grinding his knot against your already-stretched entrance, dragging another shudder from you. The pressure made you clench around him involuntarily, your body betraying just how much you loved being stretched like this, stuffed to the brim with no escape.
Sylus felt it. And he fucking laughed.
“Oh, you like this, don’t you?” His voice was pure satisfaction, laced with dark amusement. He pressed a slow, rolling thrust into you—not to fuck you, not yet. Just enough to remind you that you were his, that you had no choice but to take it.
You gasped, body jerking, and his arms tightened around you, keeping you from slipping away. “Fuck—Sylus, I can’t—”
“You can,” he corrected smoothly, dragging his tongue up the side of your throat, savoring the way you trembled beneath him. “And you will.”
His knot pulsed inside you, a steady, rhythmic pressure that had your whole body on edge, your nerves raw and sensitive. You couldn’t move—not with how locked you were onto him, not with how thoroughly his tail pinned you in place. Every breath, every faint twitch sent another ripple of sensation through you, making your head spin.
Sylus enjoyed your helplessness.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re still shaking.” His claws trailed down your stomach, featherlight but teasing, stopping just above where you were stretched wide around his cock. “But not from fear. No—” His voice dropped to a low, wicked murmur. “—you’re trembling because you need more.”
Your breath hitched.
You hated that he was right.
Sylus knew it too.
Without warning, his tail snapped against your ass—sharp, loud, the impact sending a sharp jolt through your oversensitive nerves. You yelped, the sting melting into a deep, unbearable pleasure that made your body clench around him.
And that was it. That was all it took to break him.
With a guttural growl, Sylus moved.
Even with his knot locked inside, even with your body stretched impossibly wide, he fucked you through it. Slow, deep grinds at first, his cock throbbing, his breath ragged as he forced you to feel every inch of him. You could do nothing but take it, helpless against the raw power pressing you into the wall.
Then he snapped.
His claws tightened on your hips as he fucked into you, not pulling out fully—he couldn’t, not with how swollen his knot had become. But that didn’t stop him. He rutted against you in short, brutal thrusts, his thick cock grinding against your sweet spot, dragging fresh waves of overstimulation from your already-wrecked body.
You sobbed—pleasure bordering on pain, your body shaking violently as another orgasm threatened to consume you.
“Sylus—” You choked out his name, hands clawing at his bare chest, searching for something—anything—to anchor you.
He caught one of your wrists, dragging your palm down over his abs, forcing you to feel how hard his body was, how every muscle flexed and rippled with each movement. “Hold onto me,” he ordered. “I want you to feel what’s fucking you.”
Your fingers clenched against his stomach, nails raking over the smooth planes of muscle.
Then—he thrust just right.
Your vision blurred.
A scream ripped from your throat as your climax hit you like a tidal wave, drowning you, pulling you under. Your walls clenched violently around his cock, milking him, your whole body convulsing in raw, mind-shattering pleasure.
Sylus groaned, his horns pressing against your forehead, his breath shuddering as he tipped over the edge with you.
“Fucking—mine,” he snarled, slamming deep one last time, burying himself as far as he could go, his knot pulsing inside you as he came. His cock throbbed, thick spurts of heat flooding you, filling you so full it was dizzying. You could feel everything—how he stretched you, how his knot kept his release inside, how his tail tightened, shuddering against your thigh as he claimed you.
And it didn’t stop.
He was still throbbing inside you, still spilling inside you, his knot ensuring that nothing leaked out, that you stayed filled with him, that his seed stuck.
Sylus groaned against your neck, breathless, his body still trembling from the force of it.
Then, slowly, he laughed.
Dark, satisfied. Possessive.
“You’re wrecked,” he murmured, tilting your chin up with a clawed finger, forcing you to meet his gaze. His red eyes gleamed with triumph, taking in the way your body trembled against him, the way you twitched around his knot, overstimulated, raw.
His tail unwound from your thigh—only to curl possessively around your waist again, keeping you close.
“I hope you weren’t planning on leaving anytime soon.”
You swallowed hard, barely able to think, let alone respond. Your breath was uneven, your legs numb.
Sylus chuckled, brushing his thumb over your lips before leaning in, letting his fangs graze your throat.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
His tail flexed. His knot pulsed.
And you knew—
Neither of you were stopping until he’d made sure you couldn’t walk.
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shaisuki · 2 days ago
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“Caleb?”
“What is it, pipsqueak?”
“Have you ever kissed someone?”
You asked him out of the blue while munching on the snack he bought for you. Seated on the stairs at the front of the store. The wind's cold. A telltale sign of the night to come. The skies are purplish with hues of orange and red. The can of soda sweats with condensation. Leaving a imprint of it on the concrete floor.
“What about it, pipsqueak?”
Caleb brows furrow at the sudden question. You were both in high school and neither of the romance stuff were discussed except when you both watched a romance drama that aired on the evening. He didn't even know you were interested.
”No. I mean that's normal. You're popular with girls and I know you must kissed one of them right? Riiight?”
Absentmindedly crinkling a wrapper of the candy and Caleb can hear the crunch of the packaging. A amused laugh escaped Caleb's lips. Turning his body to face you and resting his jaw to his palm. His elbow leaning on his knees.
He stares at your side profile. Studying how your eyelashes flutter and the dimple surfacing on your round cheek. A small pout in your plump lips.
“I haven't kissed anyone, pipsqueak.”
“For real? Nah, you're kidding me.”
Caleb's smile grew wider when you whipped your head to see if he was really serious. Your face scrunched up while you eye him suspiciously.
It was the truth. He gets it. He was Mr. Popular among his peers and there's the endless stream of girls who tried to get on his good graces. However he can't bring himself to like the attention. Sure, it was good that he can count on them and he knows you're going to be cool about it but it feels wrong.
“I'm not interested, pipsqueak.” Caleb assures you. Patting your head in a affectionate manner like he always did. His palm hold your round cheek. Caressing the skin with his thumb and his aura gets serious all of a sudden. “What made you ask me that kind of question?”
“A classmate asked me if you have a girlfriend and then if you did the lovey-dovey stuff with a girl. I told her I don't know and....” Your eyes squint for a little bit. The gears in your head turning. “— that's why I asked you about it.” You explained.
Caleb pinched your cheek. If Caleb wants to be honest with you right now. He will say he wants to kiss you, first. His eyes landing on your lips. He fought the urge to run his thumb in your lips for he might regret what he's about to do next. It's to kiss you. Taste the sweetness of the candy in your lips and feel the softness of your lips that will linger for days to come.
Caleb wants you, needs you to be his firsts. It's the way it is most special cause he shared it with you and he knows you're inexperienced too and what's better to be each other's firsts, if you'll allow it.
“Pipsqueak, do you want to be kissed?” His voice suddenly serious. The streetlight casting a glow behind them and from the angle where you look at him. Caleb's expression grew darker. The knowledge that you're going to be kissed someone that is not him — brings a pain that he can never recover.
“Someday, Caleb. Someday.” You mutter and Caleb smiles, cause that someday is the day when he will finally get to kiss you. A real kiss. Not the indirect kisses from having to share cans of soda or tasting another one's food. You didn't even know that.
Caleb and you stayed for a bit. Watching as nightfall envelops the whole city. Contented at the peace and quiet with the conversation gone in your mind except for Caleb who burned the memory. He's contented for now.
He can be patient towards you and when the time comes, it's not only a kiss from you but the whole you, body and soul.
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aomiiine · 3 days ago
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I COULD HAVE YOU ANY TIME
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OFFICE ROMANCE WITH 
 CEO!zayne x secretary fem!reader warning(s) -> nsfw, MDNI (18+ only), smut w little plot !! dom-ish zayne, established relationship (husband/wife), jealous-ish zayne, fingering, orgasm denial, discipline-ish vibes, impact play, sir kink, creampie, petnames: darling, my love/love, dove, brief dry humping, romantic/fluffy intimacy, not proofread wordcount. 2.2k (i love him, this is my way of making up for the horndog i was for caleb) taglist. @jellysix @tinycatharsis @wonuwuuuuu @wonryllis @tsukkisukkii
ZAYNE KNEW HIS WIFE was a gorgeous creature, the epitome of a woman’s essence—it was only natural for others to covet her, to feel the same infatuation he had with her. Except, he placed his band on her first.
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3PM in the afternoon, Zayne had a meeting with investors at a resort’s hall. You, as his secretary, were obligated to come with him.
Negotiations went smoothly, transactions mutually agreed and satisfactory. But for some reason, Zayne left the room feeling more agitated than he should be.
He returned to the company’s headquarters in silence, barely talking much on the way, not even to you. He was awfully silent even when you two arrived. Unable to think much about your husband during business hours, you focused on work as you knew he would like you to.
you did exactly that for the rest of the hours, the day fleeting briefly until night fell in a blink of an eye. Finally, Zayne wanted to see you.
“You called, sir?” You greeted formally, aware that the rest of the staff hadn’t left yet. They knew you were married but still, you wanted to maintain some professionalism at work.
“I did, love. Close the door,” Zayne replied cooly, standing beside his desk chair, arms crossed as he stared out the ceiling-to-floor windows showing a view of Linkon City’s centre buzzing roads and buildings.
you did as you were asked, of course, shutting the door behind you with a click.
“What is it, Zayne?” You approached him with ease now, expression softening to a look of curiosity at his sudden summoning after an entire day of silence.
“Those investors we met earlier today, what did you think of them?” he asked suddenly, turning to you once you reached his side, soft hands sliding up his arm gently. His own reached to circle around your waist, gently pulling you flush against his body. His eyes seemed to darken behind his glasses seated firmly on the bridge of his nose, your head tilting in confusion.
“They were.. generous, I suppose. Respectful, and wise in their business handlings. Why do you ask?” You lifted another hand to hold his bicep, eyes searching for his in the dimly lit room of his office, his warm breath brushing against your skin.
“Respectful? Hah.. Were they?” Zayne muttered to himself more than to you, eyes drifting from yours for a second. His hand on your waist tightens for a milisecond before he relaxes again, brows furrowing deep in return.
“They were practically ogling you, my love. Didn’t you notice?”
You raised a brow at him.
“They were? Really?” You queried, genuinely baffled at the revelation that you missed something like that. His hold clenches harder.
“Feigning ignorance now? Not a smart move, darling,” Zayne tested, eye twitching with unbearable irritation that those men got away with eyeing his wife up and down like meat at a wagyu restaurant.
“Zayne, I seriously didn’t notice,” you reassured, hands clinging onto him in hopes he’d see the sincerity in your eyes. You heard him exhale a huff, hold loosening on your waist, fingers rubbing idly over your clothes.
“.. Very well,” the man grunted, eyes closing shut for a moment as if attempting the ever churning turmoil inside him that formed since that same meeting earlier today. “But I’m not satisfied with just that, sweetheart.” Zayne shook his head simultaneously, tugging on your hand to lead you toward his desk, turning you around and placing your palm flat against the surface of his desk.
He manoeuvred to stand behind you, using the advantage he had by the brief moment of shock he gave you, the way your breath hitched, just by cupping his other hand onto curve of your waist, the one of yours holding you down firmly to prevent chances of escape. Though, he fully doubted you’d dare such a thing while knowing the consequences.
“Don’t get me wrong.. I know you’re all mine, darling. This is simply.. extra measures,” Zayne’s husky words from behind you only fed the anticipation coiling in your lower belly, feeling his hand leave your waist to unzip your pencil skirt with practiced ease, fingers tugging them down until they fell to the floor.
He left you trembling from the sharp cold of the air-conditioner, the thin lace of your panties doing little to prevent the heat from his skin to seep into you—specially, the rigid curve of his cock that strained in his pants brushing against your ass whenever he leaned in, motions calculated to have you dripping with arousal for him.
“Punishment or reward—I bet they’re both the same for you at this point, hm? Pleasurable regardless.. and you’ll take it all like a good girl, yes?” Zayne’s low yet clear mutter were accompanied by a drifting hand, leaving your side to travel to your behind, fingers hooking beneath your panties to tuck them into the cleft of your ass, making sure to leave the firm globes of your rear exposed for him to see, and touch.
A moment of silence passes, save for your shaky breathing that hitched when a sharp smack rang in the room from the impact his firm palm made with one of your ass cheeks, earning a yelp from your dry mouth.
“What do you say when your punishment is given?”
“I.. I’m sorry, sir.” Your head dips down, eyes searching to fixate on the details of the documents and papers scattered on his desk.
“And if a reward is given?”
“Thank you, sir,” you breathed, brows knitting and lips parting for a silent moan when his thick fingers drift lower between your legs, settling to grab the plump flesh of your thigh, thick fingers dangerously close to your folds.
He kneaded your inner thigh, fingers tightening to earn yet another reaction from you—your hips that lifted further to meet his touch, back arching for the mere reminder of the hard on you effortlessly gave him.
“Your ‘thank you’ sounds much sweeter, dove. I think I’ll settle for giving you a reward for now,” zayne decided, looming further towards your bowing back, fingers on top of yours curling to delve between them. His head lowered to rest a kiss onto your tense shoulder, inhaling and exhaling your scent as much as he could, swearing it was the only aphrodisiac and vice capable of making him fall into addiction.
just then, his hand holding your inner thigh loosened, shifting its trajectory upwards to tug on the flimsy fabric of your undergarment, skilled fingers sinking past your folds to find your already wet pussy. The man exerted little to no effort to penetrate your tight cunt, digits burying knuckle-deep into your heat.
Zayne held your hand the entire time, lips and defined nose nuzzled against your shoulder with his hand holding yours on his desk still. The mewls and moans he drew from your throat did little to settle the hungry desire within him, only feeding his desperate need to bring you to the heights of pleasure once again.
“Forgive me for being overbearing at times, my dear.. I just
 can’t help myself around you when such intense feelings burn so painfully in my heart,” Zayne began behind your ear, fingers pistoning in and out of your thigh channel, feeling your velvety walls clamp down around his digits when he spoke. It seemed like he caught your attention even in the middle of a heated session such as this one.
“Mmhh, don’t you dare apologise for that—nnh” you murmured between short breaths, swallowing the saliva that collected in your mouth to stifle the moans clawing to be released. As much as you loved being vocal, you couldn’t forget that you were still in office.
zayne with his glasses previously perched on his nose bridge now beginning to slip down the slope of his nose, hummed softly at your response, leaning further to hold you close, nails digging into the soft skin of your palm on the table.
“Too kind for your own good yet again, huh..” he whispered more to himself than to you. Zayne’s fingers continued their clever strokes of your fluttering cunt, the increase of pitch in your hidden moans telling him more than he needed to know about your climax
“I am just being grateful for my loving husband.. like any other would if they had someone as good as you,” you huffed, voice slightly strained from the continuous pleasure he offered from his callous fingers, along with the never fading heat radiating from his hard cock that’s been rubbing against your ass the entire time.
“No, never any other.. There’s only ever you, my love,” he corrected, sounding unshakeably confident as he always when you mentioned the mere notion of any other person taking your place in his life.
Your husband wasn’t subtle, no. He relished in the thought of showing you how much he wanted you, needed you. His actions always spoke louder than his words did, but he balanced it off with verbal affirmation every time you two were done.
“Hmph.. persistent..” you muttered, turning your head away from where he was behind you to hide your face now the you felt heat creeping onto your cheeks at his smooth words.
“I’m only persistent on making you see and believe the truth,” zayne insisted, fingers pulling out of your squelching pussy the moment he felt you inching too close to the edge. He couldn’t help but chuckle lowly at the whimper you made when he left your sopping pussy empty, clamping down on air.
“W-wait, what’re you doing?” you whined, head lifting to turn over your shoulder, searching for him, his touch, anything. Instead, you were greeted with a demanding glare, thick brow raised at you as the sound of his metal buckle finally reached your ears. You turned away once again, not wanting him to change his mind.
“Flustered or scared—I can’t tell with you,” Zayne finally spoke after breaking the brief eye-contact he made with you earlier, undoing his belt and tugging the zipper of his pants down, repeating the same motion to push his boxer down just enough to reveal his fully erect cock.
His hand circled around his length, giving it a few lazy strokes, smearing the buds of pre-cum with his thumb around his tip before he positioned himself behind you, aligning his cock along your entrance. Zayne’s cockhead notched past your slit, hips surging forward slowly to sink his painfully aroused cock into your narrow channel, not bothering to stop until he was balls deep.
While one hand was held with yours still, the free one held tightly onto your hip, holding your squirming self in place before he began to fuck you, his breathing escalating along with his thrusts. Zayne could tell you were barely a few strokes away from cumming due to earlier foreplay, but at least it was reasonable.
Him on the other hand, he was embarrassingly an arm’s length away from his orgasm without even a touch to his dick, surviving from measly humps against your firm ass cheek whilst bringing out those pretty moans from your lips for all the staff and receptionists outside to hear when they got a few steps too close to his office doors.
“You’re too good a—haah— at this, darling.. make me cum too damn easily,” he mumbled, words barely coherent from the mingle of groans and moans in his throat as he fucked his needy cock into you silly, juices dripping down to coat his balls when they slapped against your clit. His grasp on your waist was equally unforgiving—thumb pressing down on the shallow of your spine, preventing your greedy cunt from fucking back into him.
your lips parted in an ‘o’ shape, unable to form a syllable of any other word that wasn’t his name— Zayne. And every time you did it, cried out for him between sobs or whorish moans, you could’ve swore he pulsed inside you, just waiting for the perfect time to spill its pent up load. And you craved it so terribly—the feeling of his hot, thick cum painting every crevice of your insides, feeling it swirl inside you whenever his thrusts would continue to ride out his orgasm.
Just as you wished in your blank, lust-dazed state, Zayne’s climax hit him like a freight-train, offering you the same effect when his grip became bruisingly firm, the first spurt of viscous, white semen hit your clenching inner-walls.
“Cumming— Zayne, ‘s too much, your cum’s gonna make me cum, fuck!” you wailed in erotic panic, nails scraping on the surface of his desk and his fingers nestled between yours, threatening to pierce the skin with the strength.
Right then, your orgasm hit you, overwhelming your already quivering body as squelch after squelch were made within his office when your juices flowed freely, creaming in a perfect mess around his cock.
Zayne’s chest heaved with exhaustion, strands of his groomed hair falling over his eyes as he collapsed onto you half-heartedly, still making an effort to not lay the entirety of his weight onto you shaking body.
“That’s my girl.. my wife,” he cooed softly by your ear once he collected himself a bit, breath still bated. Zayne kissed your shoulder once before hiding his face deep into your crook of your neck, lips peppering tender kisses onto your sweat sheened skin all the while his fingers laced with yours fidgeted with the cold metal of the wedding ring he placed onto you when he proposed.
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kira-loves0905 · 2 days ago
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lads x reader! [mentions of death] [can be seperate or together...?]
it was another day of gathering intel from him. the knob swiftly opens for you to paddle inside the cage the Praedator was in. he was sat on his usual place, body language high and mighty. the smirk drawling on his lips as he sees your figure walking towards him. but then, the expression falls, eyes zoning on the tell-tale purple bruise on your waist— courtesy of your rather revealing outfit.
"who hurt you?"
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he growls, clenching his fists. your steps faltering at the sudden aura he emanates.
"I believe that is none of your issue-"
"it is, you see." he interjects before you could finish. "I'll repeat my question, darling. who?"
he mostly didn't mind the chains that bounded him on this interrogation chair. in fact, he barely wastes his strength on fighting against it: his posture always relaxed.
but seeing that bruise triggers something within his insanity. he doesn't know why he feels like it, the urge was strong to pull you towards him. to caress the taint mark that someone must've left on your skin.
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you see the way he now strains against the chair. his muscles taut and veiny, gritting his teeth at how you just stood there. as if that injury was nothing for you, but to him it felt as if the world was already ending.
why is that? why did he feel the urge to do so?
"it's.. another Praedator." you forced a reply, or else the scientists in the facility might make another metal chair modified for his strength with how he's tugging all his might, "it was just careless of me. so I ought to not approach people like you too close for today."
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"..w..what?"
left dumbfounded on your revelation, the straining stops.
"indeed," you nod a tad awkwardly at his odd expression. standing a few feet away, you brought out your materials needed to interrogate him. "let's start."
as the intel goes on, you were perplexed at his sudden compliance. he would've dumped all the information he has if it wasn't for the shred of pride he has left. heck, you hadn't even use much of the devices you brought.
shaking his behaviour as part of his... symptoms. you packed up your things, your movements careful and meticulous to avoid aggravating your injury any longer.
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turning around to the door, you winced slightly at the inevitable ache. about to leave and treat the wound when..
"princess." he beckons your attention, "i've given you intel. yet you still insist not telling me who left that mark. least you could do was return a favor.. hm?"
"it was... that burly man down the hall," you said vaguely, heeding no mind. might as well entertain him, right? if it makes him obey and give more information then you don't mind.
oh how wrong you were.
the next day, there was an uproar of a sudden dead Praedator. no one knows who had done it. the execution flawless with no strings left behind. but the smirking man you've known for a while, with chains suspiciously broken only seen up close may know a thing or two..
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chiwhorei · 14 hours ago
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đ˜­đ˜°đ˜·đ˜Š đ˜ąđ˜Żđ˜„ đ˜„đ˜Šđ˜Šđ˜± đ˜Žđ˜©đ˜ąđ˜§đ˜”đ˜Ž ₊˚âŠč♡
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Pairing: áŽąáŽ€ÊÉŽáŽ‡, sʏʟ᎜s, ᎄᎀʟᎇʙ, xᮀᮠÉȘᎇʀ, ʀᎀꜰᎀʏᎇʟ x ꜰᎇᎍ!ʀᎇᎀᎅᎇʀ
Tags: shortform, drabble, daddy kink et al, nasty back-shots, men begging, nothing too crazy but all smut. MDNI I swear to GOD dfwm
Notes: The LaDS and their cocks, that’s all this is. I can’t stop thinking about them, I’m lost in orbit. I may never make it back. —Xoxo, Dollie
áŽąáŽ€ÊÉŽáŽ‡ has a thick cock you can barely fit your lips around and makes your jaw ache. It’s a feeling you’re seemingly addicted to, so he’s contented to let you suckle on the tip with tears in your eyes for as long as you need. Zayne is observant, acutely aware of when your eyes get glassy and your bottom lip trembles ever so slightly. He knows just what you need. He’s a not-so-secret freak with iron-clad composure so he’ll keep you down there for hours humping his leg and blowing bubbles on his tip. Your face and chin are shiny with spit and tears, pupils blown fat as saucers when two fingers lift your head to meet his even and positively adoring gaze. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip, tapping twice before you suck it into your mouth obediently.
˚₊· ÍŸÍŸÍžÍžâžłâ„ “Such a pretty girl. Daddy’s pretty cock whore, so desperate for anything I give you.”
sʏʟ᎜s has a long, curved cock that curls right into your g-spot, veins pulsing prominently on either side that you can feel distinctly. And even though it hurts going in every time, once you’re stretched around it you physically can’t stop yourself from cumming on it repeatedly and milking him dry. He can’t help wrapping his long, lithe fingers around your throat, fingertips pressing in just enough to remind you what’ll happen if you stop your desperate bouncing. Your legs ache, your head is swimming, but you continue with a sloppy wet rhythm. Tears prick at your eyes for Sylus to thumb away, gentle for only a beat before something sinister curls around his lips. You yelp at the mean pinch to your clit, your final warning.
˚₊· ÍŸÍŸÍžÍžâžłâ„ “We’ve barely just begun, sweetheart. I thought you were my big girl? That’s it, baby, cum around it again”
ᎄᎀʟᎇʙ has such a stupidly big cock —coke can thick and slaps his belly button— that he’s worried might kill you one of these days, especially with how fucking insistent you are that he gives it all to you at once. He takes hours working you open before he’ll even unzip his pants, shaking his head at the way you plead against your own best interests. You’re squirting against his chest and abdomen once he pulls your ass up and gives you what you say you want so bad. Your pussy stretches around his almost-impossible shaft and leaves a creamy ring around the base. Caleb swears he feels a vein in his temple burst when you’re reaching back to slow the abuse of his hips. You complain that he babies you, then you cry that it’s too much? With both of your wrists in one hand and your jaw in the other, he’ll teach you a lesson in follow through.
˚₊· ÍŸÍŸÍžÍžâžłâ„ “Mmf- Messy-plap-Fucking-plap-Brat. Can’t make up your mind, huh? Don’t worry, I’ve always known what’s best for you.”
xᮀᮠÉȘᎇʀ has a disastrously sensitive cock. Even through his boxers, his sweats and your leggings, he can feel how warm your little slit is. Each haughty rut of your crotch against his is making the air around him feel thicker and harder to swallow. A wet patch is forming on the tent in his lap, precum and the leaking of your pussy. Xavier feels dizzy, his twitching dick so painfully hard that your movements border on torture. He needs some kind of relief, but you just look so perfect grinding down on him like this. He can’t stop you now, when you’re whispering how close you are into the shell of his ear. Your back arches sharply, cunt pulsing against his shaft until he’s shooting into his pants- but he doesn’t mind. He’ll just flip you over and lick another orgasm out of your poor pussy until you’re screaming yourself hoarse and he’s ready to go again.
˚₊· ÍŸÍŸÍžÍžâžłâ„ “God, baby, you made such a mess of me. No, no, no— we’re not stopping until I return the favor.”
ʀᎀꜰᎀʏᎇʟ has the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen. It’s perfect in every way, like it was made just for you. Long and just a bit thicker at the base, with a deep pink tip that always blushes under your awestruck stare. Your favorite place to kiss and nuzzle is the twin freckles on the underside of his shaft. You love curling up in between Rafayel’s legs on the floor while he’s sat spread on the couch. You kiss every inch of soft, delicate skin- covering his balls with your nipping and sucking first, then up his length and across his perfectly trimmed pubes. Rafayel, never one to deny you— even at the cost of his own sanity— might just pass out from the lack of blood in his brain. The only thing you love more than slathering spit and sticky lipgloss all over him, is the way he moans for more. So fucking pretty, so perfect.
˚₊· ÍŸÍŸÍžÍžâžłâ„ “Ah- ah- FUCK, you’re going to be the death of me, I need you so- ah- I need you so bad.”
. ʁ₊ âŠč . ʁ ⟡ ʁ . âŠč ₊ ʁ. ʁ₊ âŠč . ʁ ⟡ ʁ . âŠč ₊ ʁ. ʁ₊ âŠč . ʁ ⟡ ʁ . âŠč ₊ ʁ. ʁ₊ âŠč . ʁ ⟡ ʁ . âŠč ₊ ʁ. ʁ₊ âŠč . ʁ
❄ ᎄʜÉȘáŽĄÊœáŽÊ€áŽ‡ÉȘ.2025© ᎀʟʟ áŽĄÊ€ÉȘᮛÉȘÉŽÉą Ê™áŽ‡ÊŸáŽÉŽÉąs ᮛᮏ ᮍᮇ. DᎏɎ'ᮛ ᎄᎏ᎘ʏ ᎏʀ ʀᎇ᎘ᎏsᮛ.
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ill0usainte · 3 days ago
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Illou's Masterlist *⁠.⁠✧
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Love and deepspace
Zayne
Rub it in their face, put a rock on her hand! (fluff)
Wrapped around her finger. (fluff)
LADS Men as cigarettes after sex songs. (angst)
Take it slow, take it down on me. (smut)
SLUT ME OUT! (smut)
What happens to disobedient wives? (smut)
Can you take a piece and fuck me? (smut)
Alcohol drunk? Pussy drunk! (smut)
Caleb
Love you in the morning. (fluff)
LADS Men as cigarettes after sex songs. (angst)
Got your head in a headlock! (smut)
Pussy can be so facetious. (smut)
Mark your territory. (smut)
Heart-shaped. (smut)
Lasting Mark. (smut)
(Wo)men in uniform. (smut)
Play your gun right! (smut)
Fuck me like you mad at me, baby! (smut)
Rafayel
Pink, Pink, Pink! (suggestive)
Two is better than one. (suggestive)
LADS Men as cigarettes after sex songs. (angst)
Had to tell her that dick off limits. I hop on it at night, I'm a menace. (smut)
Xavier
LADS Men as cigarettes after sex songs. (angst)
Sweet 'n tasty. (smut)
Sylus
Warm. (fluff)
LADS Men as cigarettes after sex songs. (angst)
Smudge proof? (smut)
Wine Pon You. (smut)
Jujutsu Kaisen
Toji
Roommate!toji (smut)
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unintentionalseductress · 1 day ago
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*screaming, crying, giggling, sobbing*
OH MY GOD YOU GUYS!!!!!! When did this fic hit 10K notes? Like seriously???!!! I was reading about questionable medical practices of the early 1900’s and that’s how this fic was born and it’s at 10,000 notes??!!!!!
I’m truly blessed to have such an amazing following and that we all seem to share the same filthy mindset and I love you all for it! Stay kinky my internet sisters!
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Prescription For Pleasure
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Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.
You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.
And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.
But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no. 
“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.”  Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne. 
Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.
But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”
Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”
“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you. 
“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder. 
“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”
Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”
“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”
You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.
“Yes?”
“So, you must have heard about
the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.
“I am aware of it, yes.” 
“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.” 
Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”
“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.
“There appears to be a problem.”
“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.
“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.” 
It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”
There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.
“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself. 
“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”
A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you. 
“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”
With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence. 
And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.
The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session. 
“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy. 
“Yes.”
“Preference for the doggystyle position still?” 
Your face burns. “Yes.”
“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”
You nod your head.
“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy. 
“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup. 
“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.
“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go. 
“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”
You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office. 
Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit. 
The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air. 
His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”
“The sensors are-”
“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”
His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks. 
Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic. 
Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”
“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.
The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”
The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words. 
“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”
Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled. 
“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.
“Good girl. Take a breath.”
You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”
“Yes
” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it. 
“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur. 
Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.
“Zayne
” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body. 
With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion. 
“I
I didn’t
I wasn’t in control
” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting. 
“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”
He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.
“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading. 
So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.
“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”
“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal. 
“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”
You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”
“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”
“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”
Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected. 
“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”
“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat. 
“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.
“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”
One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?” 
Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin. 
“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”
Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out. 
“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.
“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him. 
“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment. 
“I just had to be sure.”
Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 
You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat. 
Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again. 
“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.” 
The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision. 
Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well. 
The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity. 
He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.
“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom. 
“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation. 
He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream. 
Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips. 
“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”
Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke. 
“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”
The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm. 
A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups. 
Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.
“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation. 
“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly. 
“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body. 
“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff. 
“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.
“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes. 
“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss. 
“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies. 
“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.” 
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© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating support banner by @/ cafekitsune @theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @actuallysaiyan
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shomatoriashi · 15 hours ago
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02/11/25; 01:15pm
{ drabbles / headcanons }
[ how they celebrate valentine’s day with you ]
featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb
notes: slight crack with rafayel's 😂
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you were in the middle of reading your novel, believing that sylus was too busy to celebrate valentine's day with you as you were left to your own devices. despite the prior disappointment you felt at the thought of being unable to spend such a lovely holiday with him, in the end, you chose to be a good lover and simply spoil yourself for the day instead. you never brought it up or even asked, hence why you were currently surrounded by your favorite snacks, simply relaxing in bed while flipping though the pages of your book.
the start of your night was utterly normal, peaceful even when you found yourself surrounded by darkness just seconds later.
"what the hell?" you sit up in bed, dropping your novel on the ground as you blindly searched for the lamp settled on the nightstand. however, you were unable to move, feeling a pair of hands wrapping around your form coupled along with a series of laughters.
"luke, kieran, unhand me right now!" you bark at the twins, feeling them carry you away from your bed with ease.
"no can do, miss queen! boss man gave us strict orders to bring you to him!"
the twins continue carry you away, seemingly able to navigate through sylus's mansion even without the need for any lights. you try to wiggle out of their hold, yet end up letting out a grunt when you felt your ass landing against a plush cushion. the twins had dropped you off somewhere, making you glare into the darkness, ready to chew out the troublesome pair-
only to have your eyes widen with shock when the lights came back on. your eyes stung for a brief moment before allowing you to finally see the surprise sylus had planned for you. you were settled on the dining table, and seated across from you was sylus himself, lifting up a glass full of red wine in a toast. "hello sweetie, how nice of you to finally join me."
your mouth opens, yet the words become lost the moment you were able to actually look at the table. as far as your eyes can see, you saw various dishes across the table, finally taking in the scents of your favorite foods and various heart shaped confectionaries for dessert. tears dot your vision, making you wipe them away with the back of your hand, "i thought you had forgotten. i-"
hearing your sniffles and seeing your tears causes sylus to put down his wine glass, standing back to his full height as he took quick strides towards you. taking you within his embrace, he lets out gentle coos of your name, setting you on his lap while holding you against him.
"as if i would ever forget to celebrate our love, little dove."
filled to the brim with utter adoration for him, you cling to the front of his suit, allowing sylus to lean down and capture your lips in a sweet kiss, reminding you of just how pure and deep his love ran for you.
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when zayne asked what you would like to do for valentine's day, your mind immediately went to the art museum you had wanted to visit since its opening a few months ago.
never one to deny you of any of your wants and needs, zayne takes you to the museum while walking around with you. he basks in the joy and awe with each painting and sculpture you pass by. and despite how you were the one who had purchased the box of macarons to share-
zayne was the one left holding it, since you were so engrossed at being at this museum.
yet the turning point came when you stood in front of an oil painting that seems to take up the whole section of the museum. your eyes were glued to the watercolors that painted the scenery of the deep ocean along with what appeared to be mermaids swimming in and out of an underwater city.
"wow, this is amazing. i heard rafayel was a genius in his own right, but this- his art, so breathtaking, almost like a fairytale..."
the way your eyes shimmer with admiration for the artist causes a surge of something dark and almost possessive to course through zayne's veins. the sudden sensation makes him grip at the box of macarons in a tighter manner, nearly crushing the cookies as a frown paints his expression. you were still ogling the painting when zayne decides to place the box of macarons on a nearby bench, coming closer to you as he wraps his arms around your front.
"what- zayne?"
he buries his face within your hair, "i didn't think i'd be able to feel jealous over a painting."
your eyes go wide, ready to ask what he meant when your lover suddenly leans down to press a kiss against your lips, swallowing the rest of your words. you let out a soft moan in response, shyly kissing him back while feeling zayne delving his fingers into your hair.
with you being so focused on his kiss, you were unaware of zayne's smile and his feelings of victory at being able to win your attention back from that man's painting.
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you shared the love of stargazing with xavier, so when he invites you out on a picnic beneath the stars for your valentine's day date-
you said yes to his offer immediately.
you had prepared for this picnic throughout the day, making several sandwiches along with a charcuterie board to share along with some sparkling wine. xavier offers to carry the heavy basket filled with food as you held on to the blanket.
your ballet flats meets with the plushness of the emerald green grass, eyes already scanning the skies as you were basking in the sight of the twinkling stars settled millions of miles above you. xavier looks back at you, seeing the way you stopped as a kind smile graces his features.
taking a hold of your arm, xavier leads you towards the middle of the field, helping you spread out the blanket fully before settling on top of it with you. your boyfriend spreads out your meal, setting up the charcuterie board while offering you a sandwich as well.
taking tentative bites of your food, you rest your head against xavier's shoulder, simply basking in the moment with him. your eyes were glued to the galaxy above you, listening to xavier's voice as he pointed out the constellations and traced at the stars with his fingertips.
feeling warm and oh so happy with him, you look away from the skies and gently call out his name.
"yes?" you meet his gaze, seeing the love he had for you shining in them when you lean closer to the philos prince. "i love you, thank you for this."
instead of answering you with words, xavier leans forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, slotting his lips against yours while silently conveying i love you, too.
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for valentine's day, rafayel treats you to a nice lunch before taking you to the aquarium. while walking around the gorgeous area, you felt your mouth watering at the sight of the ice cream shop settled near the entrance. after purchasing your tickets, rafayel slides his wallet back into his pant pockets when he meets your puppy dog expression.
he sighs, "okay princess, spill, what is it that you want?"
"an ice cream cone sounds really nice right now." you tell your boyfriend with a pout, pointing at the ice cream stand.
he feigns a sigh, yet walks with you to the stand anyways, allowing you to purchase your favorite flavor before ruffling your hair. you were giggling now, taking eager licks of your ice cream while offering some to your lover.
rafayel pouts, but leans down to take a huge bite out of the soft serve ice cream, making you laugh, "oh my god, that was a bite from a shovel!"
"no it wasn't!" he retorts while playfully pulling on your cheek, only to stiffen just moments later. he lets go of your face, and you give your boyfriend a confused expression while rubbing at your cheek, "huh? rafe, what is it?"
his frown seems to deepen, lips forming a pout as he marched deeper into the aquarium. your eyes go wide, following him all while calling out his name. your search for him leads you to an area where the coral reefs were on display-
and your boyfriend was actively glaring at this angelfish that had startling sapphire blue scales. you continue to take tentative licks of your ice cream, wanting to observe what would happen next-
only to see the angelfish's mouth open and close several times with bubbles forming within the waters.
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?!" rafayel's voice echoes throughout the aquarium as his hands form into fists, pounding into the glass as the angelfish continued blowing bubbles at him.
"r-rafeyel, calm down, what happened?" you try your best to diffuse the situation, yet his pout deepens while pointing an accusing finger at the angelfish, "h-he just called me a limp noodle and said that i wasn't good enough for you!"
before rafayel could demand that one of the workers allow him inside of the waters, you pull your overly dramatic boyfriend away from the scene, feeling a bead of sweat run down your cheek as you thought of ways to help with calming the lemurian down.
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"oh my god, i'm in heaven right now!" you tell your boyfriend of two years while cutting into the fluffy strawberry shortcake, placing the delicious morsel within your mouth all while letting out a moan of pleasure.
caleb simply chuckles at your words, tending to his own cup of coffee. he never once removes his gaze away from you, smiling like a lovesick fool, "whatever makes you happy, baby."
resting his cheek against the palm of his hand, the farspace colonel was glad he was able to take some time off for this special day. knowing that you were a true romantic at heart, there was no way in hell he would ever miss out on celebrating valentine's day with you.
so, he buys you all of your favorite treats, allowing the various plates filled with a variety of different cakes and chocolates to surround you. he admires the look of happiness on your face, basking in the way you ate each pastry in such a meticulous manner, as if wishing to savor every bit of it.
in the midst of caleb admiring you, he notices the whipped cream settled on top of your lips, feeling a devilish grin forming against his features. he says your name, breaking your attention away from your cake. "hm?" you face him just then, allowing caleb to lean forward to capture your lips in a chaste kiss as his tongue swipes away at the cream. caleb relishes in the way you were trembling before sitting back down in his seat, picking up his cup of coffee while taking a casual sip.
noticing the heat settled on your cheeks and the way your expression turned sheepish, he had to bite back the urge to chuckle at you while ruffling at your hair.
i could get used to this soft happiness. caleb thinks to himself, focusing his attention once more on your achingly cute features and how you were too shy to meet his gaze.
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end notes: i feel like all of us wanted infold to drop a fluffy banner, but was a little disappointed / shocked when it didn't happen and got something feral instead đŸ˜­đŸ™ŒđŸ» so have this fluffy drabble instead to fill your needs for a fluffy valentine's day with our lads boys đŸ„°
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
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shaisuki · 3 days ago
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Caleb seeing you again after being a hunter and your body is still soft from the way he remembers it. Thick thighs and that stomach pooch. The way your face is still round with cherubic cheeks that he likes to pinch and he thinks to himself what a good job he had done for taking care of you.
Caleb is damn proud. He sees your plump body and it reminds him as a testament of his love for you.
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