Latest Posts by margos-midnight-rain - Page 5

r e l a x.

they give you a massage (sylus, caleb, xavier) / you give them a massage (zayne and rafayel).

mdni. 18+ only. fingering. handjob. oral (male and female giving and receiving). dry humping. creampie. overstimulation.

sylus

You've had a busy week at work and your body has been terribly sore, so Sylus offered to give to a massage.

Instead of feeling relaxed like he said you would be, you're gripping the bedsheet and biting down the back of your own hand, completely flustered and tensed.

Sylus knows exactly what he's doing with his hands and yet, he refuses to admit to his crimes by playing clueless.

As if you can't see his smirk after accidentally brushing his hands against the sides of your breast for the third time in just five minutes.

"What's wrong, sweetie? Didn't I tell you to relax? Just close your eyes and trust me. I'll make you feel good."

You're cursing Sylus so hard in your head.

You're on his bed, lying on your stomach with absolutely no cover.

You've once gotten a massage from an actual professional massage therapist before, so you know removing your clothing is just protocol.

What's different from the massage you're getting right now are all the 'accidental' touches that your unofficial massager has been doing.

Sylus is hovering over your figure with his knees on the sides of your hips and planted on the mattress while his hands are kneading your figure.

On one hand, the oil that he's using smells wonderful, and his strong hands really does wonders when he's pressing down and pulling at your tensed muscles the right way.

On the other hand, he's teasing you so much that you can't even feel at peace.

It started off with brief, almost unnoticable brushes on the sides of your breasts as his hands roam around your torso, feeling up your sore spots.

It wasn't until his hands began to linger a little too long on your ass that you grew suspicious of his actions.

You gave him the benefit of the doubt and kept quiet, closing your eyes and burying your face against the soft pillow. You thought, maybe, you can just fall asleep while he gives you a massage, even if he has to keep himself entertained along the way.

But you learned quickly that you will certainly not be able to fall asleep for as long as Sylus' hands are on you.

As he's stroking the back of your thighs, his hands traveled up to your ass once again, and this time his thumbs had gotten lost to graze the folds of your vagina.

Your head shot up in shock.

Sylus pretends not to notice.

He starts to hum a song while his hands slide down to your aching calves, giving them a good squeeze that had you wincing.

Only then did Sylus give you a look. "Something wrong, sweetie?"

"You...."

"Hmm?"

"You know what you're doing." You narrowed your eyes at him accusingly.

He tilted his head. "I'm not a professional, but of course I know what i'm doing. You have nothing to worry about."

You scoffed and put your face back down on the pillow. It looks like you're just going to have to deal with all the antics. You'll get your revenge later on.

Or so you thought.

The little not-so-accidental touches soon became more obvious and unbearable.

After several more minutes of Sylus' game of mixing in actual good massage techniques with lecherous caresses, he stopped trying to be subtle.

His fingers now had their undivided attention on your core and making their way inside you. Your hips reflexively raised as the wave of tingling sensation took over, and Slyus gently pushed them back down against the mattress.

"You're tensing up, sweetie."

There was that smirk again.

"And whose fault is that?!"

"Yours, obviously. You wouldn't need a massage if you didn't overwork yourself."

You hate that he's right even when he's trying to deflect your accusations. "Hmph."

After giving him a playful smack on the chest, you rested the side of your face against the pillow and closed your eyes.

Not a second later, his fingers are moving deeply in and out of your pussy, now wet with oil and from your arousal.

Your breath hitched at his fast pace, gripping the sheets of the bed with while listening to the lewd sounds of his sticky fingers going inside your oil-covered slit.

Your right arm reached behind you to capture his hand. You wanted to make him pause for a moment just to give yourself a moment to breathe before you burst right then and there.

He was quick to figure out your intention, so Sylus got your wrist first and pinned it on your back, just with one hand.

The bed shook slightly as he lowered his hips onto you. His placed his other hand on the mattress, right by the side of your chest to support his weight so that he's not crushing you.

His cock is pressed up right against your ass.

You were so distracted by his fingers that you failed to notice when he had pulled down his pants and boxers. Now, he's throbbing and rubbing his pre-cum on your skin.

Sylus took a moment to wipe a drop of sweat on your forehead before kissing it.

"This...isn't a massage, Sylus."

"I told you, didn't I? I'll make you feel good."

He slowly went into you.

And almost immediately, you clenched up at how good he felt. Sylus took a sharp breath before lowering his chest on your back and wrapping his left arm around your neck.

Not tight enough to choke you, but just so he could keep your face against him as he starts to move faster and harder.

All the oil he put all over your body during the massage had now been spread onto him too as every inch of him connected to you.

The air around you becomes heavy. His low groans and your muffled moans mingle with the sound of your bodies roughly colliding repeatedly.

He didn't stop for a second. Not until he was out of breath. Not until you came first. Only then did Sylus allow himself to come, right on your ass and back.

"Sylus...."

Out of breath, you flipped over as Sylus looks down at you while running a hand through his sweaty hair.

"You better not be giving anyone else a massage like the one you just gave me."

He chuckled. "Of course not, kitten. That special service is reserved only for you."

"Good." You winced as you felt your hips twinge. "Because you kinda suck. I'm now more sore than before the massage - hey, can you at least try not to look so proud?!"

zayne

It's not unusual for Zayne to be overworked, given his highly demanding job. That's why you often find yourself pampering him on his days off. This time, you decided to give him a massage so that you could help to relieve his tensed muscles.

You're not a professional, but you have learned from Zayne himself how to properly give a decent massage, as he had given you one a couple of times before. He was describing to you what he was doing and explaining what it does to your joints and muscles, so you can at least do the basics.

Right now, he's lying down on the white couch of his living room, stripped down to his boxers and facing the ceiling. You're by his side, kneeling down on the floor and sitting on the back of your feet so that you're in the same level and can easily move around.

His glasses are off and his eyes are closed, enjoying the way your hands are pressing his biceps while listening to you ramble about what you've been up to at work.

"Oh! and I just remembered something annoying that happened the other day!"

As you broke into a rant, you failed to notice that your hands had increased their strength as they moved around Zayne's lower abdomen.

Your fingers squeezed his abs, though your mind was mostly focused on giving Zayne the full details of a particular problem you had at work.

You didn't catch the way Zayne's heart skipped a beat, and the way his breath started to become uneven as your hands moved on to his thighs.

You were so distracted with your own thoughts that your ears didn't pick up the quiet groans coming out of Zayne's mouth as you rub down his quads.

His legs twitched as your fingers darted to the inside of his thighs, and he let out a cough when your fingers brushed against his bulge behind his boxers.

And yet, you still haven't caught on.

Zayne started to sweat nervously as he tries to keep his thoughts and his body tamed: to stop blood from rushing south.

But it's already too late.

He's already hard and throbbing.

Especially when you're patting him down all around the one place that's begging for your attention.

"Darling..."

"- and then I was like - huh?"

You snapped back to reality when one of Zayne's hand caught your right one.

"...here..."

Your gaze shifted from his red ears, to his adam's apple that bobbed as he gulped, and down to where he placed your hand, which was right on the big tent that formed in his boxers.

At last, you understood what he wanted and immediately granted his wish.

You tugged on the band of his boxers and pulled it down to his calves, and Zayne fully discarded it by moving his own feet and kicking it off him.

You wrapped one hand around his cock and rubbed your thumb against its tip, spreading the pre-cum that oozed out of it.

His stomach tightens up as your fist moved up and down, and low grunts emerged from his lips as you picked up your pace.

The sight of his flushed, swollen cock had your mouth and your core soaked with hunger.

You squeezed your thighs together as you placed your weight on your knees, then you moved your face towards his hips and ran your tongue from the tip to the base of his cock.

Zayne took a sharp breath once your mouth swallowed him down. He ran a hand across his chest, feeling his own heart racing as he watched your head bob up and down, with some strands of your hair falling out of place.

He closed his eyes as you moved faster. His hips jolted up reflexively, making you take even more of him. He forced himself to hold back on thrusting into your mouth, but you were the one that pulled him even farther down your throat while your hands took care of the rest that you couldn't reach.

Your name falls out of his lips before ropes of cum suddenly shoots into your mouth, spilling out from your lips.

Zayne's moans did nothing to your clenching cunt as you watch his cock continuously twitch, even after his release.

Though you didn't have to wait for long because without even giving himself time to recover from his orgasm, Zayne sat up and pulled you onto his lap.

His mouth desperately meets yours while his hands are already working on undressing you. "...need you..." he mutters between kisses.

You complied and helped him get rid of your underwear, then you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Still, you paused for a moment to ask, "Aren't you sore though? I don't want you to feel even more tired. I'll - "

"I'm fine." Zayne cuts you off with certainty in his tone and desire in his eyes. "I just want to feel you."

As a silent response, you kissed his lips and locked your thights around his hips. Zayne adjusted himself before his cock penetrates you completely.

You wanted to spare him from moving, since, despite of his reassurance, his muscles really are overworked. You swayed your hips against him, but it seems that Zayne couldn't stay still either because he continued to push his cock into you.

He buried his face against your neck and his mouth sucks off your skin while his hands grips your ass hard. His heavy breaths stutter as both of your strengths increase, causing your flesh to clash at every second.

You re-adjusted your steady grip on his shoulders before taking control by grinding down his cock hard and fast.

Zayne catches one of your breasts into his mouth and lightly bites your nipple, earning a loud gasp out of you. Your pussy clenched around his cock, and the noise you made had echoed from his own mouth.

"C-coming...!"

You reached your climax around the same time. Zayne didn't have time nor power to pull out and your hips felt stuck against his, so all of his load was shot inside of you.

Zayne softly pressed his lips on your left shoulder before resting his forehead against it as he catch his breath.

You combed your fingers through his hair before attempting to get off of him. Zayne, however, kept you trapped against him with his hands remaining on your ass, pressing you down on him.

"Let's just stay like this.... for a little longer...."

caleb

The very second he arrived at your apartment and saw your overall worn out appearance, Caleb declared himself as your butler for the weekend. Not only did he do all the cooking and cleaning, he also decided that you needed a massage.

So here you are, lying face down on your bed, only wearing your underwear, with Caleb hovering over you with his knees on the side of your hips, running his hands throughout your body to fix your aching muscles.

He's actually doing an amazing job. Only a few minutes after he started and you're already feeling your body loosening up.

"Have you ever given anyone else a massage before?" you asked curiously, lifting your face from your pillow for a moment.

"Nope." Caleb grins. "You're my very first customer, pip-squeak. Don't forget to rate me at the end of my service, okay?"

"Mhmm."

You assume he just did his research very well, as always. Since you're in good hands, you decided to give in to the warmth and comfort he's providing and closed your eyes for a little nap.

Little did you know...

Caleb couldn't be more glad you're not looking at him right now.

He's having a big problem and it's demanding to be freed and inserted into something. Into someone.

He truly did have the full intention of giving you the best massage you'll ever have. He noticed that your body isn't in good condition because of your work, and the least he could do is make you feel relaxed with a massage.

The good news is that it seems to be working well, and you're even starting to fall asleep, which means your body is relaxing.

The bad news is that he underestimated his self-control. He had taken showers with you without popping a boner, and yet....

The sight of you lying so beautifully underneath him only in your red bra and panty had gotten his mind wandering along with his hands.

Every time he massaged the insides of your thighs, his eyes automatically flickers to your crotch as he gets a glimpse of your pussy behind your underwear.

He wanted, so badly, to bury his face between your thighs and have a taste of you. But even more, he wanted your body to feel relaxed. He didn't want to disturb you right now, so Caleb suppressed his desires.

It's not the first time, anyways. Before you were aware of his feelings, before you became an official couple, he always had to hide his sexual urges from you.

So, this is nothing. That's what Caleb repeatedly told himself as he continues to give you a massage.

Still....

It's okay to adjust himself once every while, right? His boxers and pants are getting uncomfortably tight, after all. He just needs to adjust it for a second.

Caleb stuck a hand in pants to get rid of the discomfort.

Then, he pumped his cock a few times.

'Fuck...'

He lets out a shaky breath before withdrawing his hand and resting it on the small of your back. His own actions only made things worse because now, he's throbbing uncontrollably and his thighs are pulsing. His hands are sweating, his stomach is clenching, and his face is burning.

He forced himself to keep going with the massage, but he was only torturing himself. The more he touched you, the more he wanted you.

"Hmm? Caleb, are you done?" you asked as his hands no longer made contact with your body.

"I..." Caleb's incomplete response came out low and deep.

Suddenly, his chest fell against your back and his lips grazed your right ear. His heavy breaths tickled you before his lips softly met your skin.

"I need you."

He rutted his crotch against your ass and your eyes widen at the feeling of his stiff cock through his pants.

He growled under his breath before moving faster, causing your body to bounce against the mattress of your bed.

"Caleb..."

You raised your hips to meet his, and his hands quickly latches to your waist before humping you even harder.

You slowly turned around and put your hands on the back of his neck, then you kissed him deeply and pulled him down with you.

Caleb moans into the kiss while his hands quickly removed his pants and boxers. You pulled away for a moment to help him undress, then your bodies re-attached like magnets soon after.

He wasted no time putting his cock inside you, spreading your thighs farther apart so he could pound as much of him into you as far as possible.

Your bed creaked and shook at every moment he made. The air around you feels hot, and you found yourself gasping loudly and clutching onto his back as he picks up the pace.

You cried softly against his neck as you came, and your toes curled as he relentlessly chased after his own high, drilling into you while clasping your hands. Soon, his hips stutters and he pulls out right before shooting his load right across your chest.

After using his shirt to wipe your chest, Caleb collided beside you, catching his breath as he stares at the ceiling.

You propped on your elbow and faced him sideways with a grin on your face.

"Hey, Caleb." Your fingers toyed with the pendant of his necklace. "You wanted me to rate your service, right? I'd give it a 4.5 out of 5."

He lets out a laugh, catching your hand and kissing your fingers. "What was the 0.5 deduction for?"

"...need another round..."

"Oh?" Caleb raised a brow, unable to hold back a smirk at your flustered expression. "Weeeell then, please allow me to compensate."

rafayel

Rafayel accepted your offer to give him a massage, especially since his back and shoulders have been tensed after painting for days with very little to no rest.

You had been away for work so you couldn't scold him properly to take breaks, and now you want to make up for your absence by helping him relax.

Not even five minutes after you started, Rafayel wondered if he had made a bad decision.

Today, for some reason, he's extra sensitive and not just emotionally, but physically, too.

Earlier, you breathed too close to his neck and he got chills, and not out of fear. You put your hand on his chest for thirty seconds and his heart wanted to jump out of his body. You slid your fingers down to his stomach, and blood rushed below his hips.

Rafayel shifted nervously on his bed. He's only wearing a single towel wrapped around his hips, and he's facing down against the mattress so that you could have easy access to his back and shoulders.

As you heavily but carefully drew circles on his upper back, Rafayel groaned against his pillow. You took that as a positive sign that he's feeling good from your massage, so you continued.

You pressed down to his lower back and giggled at the way he twitched.

"I didn't know you're ticklish here, Raf."

"...I'm not..."

Your thumbs moved in circular patterns just above his hips, slightly nudging the towel covering him. He lets out another sigh of relief, so you exerted more pressure down to his muscles.

Your eyes darted to his face for a moment and you wondered why his ears have turner red. Was it because of the massage?

"Rafayel, am I doing okay? If you want me to stop, just tell me - "

"No, don't stop!" he replied a little too quickly. "I mean.... keep going. You're doing great, cutie!"

"If you say so. Just making sure I'm not hurting you, that's all."

"Not at all!"

Rafayel stiffens as your hands returned to his back, as that's where he told you is the most painful part of his body is.

However, he needed your hands somewhere else.

Rafayel took a deep breath before turning around to face the ceiling. He's doing his best to breathe calmly, but his thoughts are making it impossible.

"What's wrong? did I - "

Rafayel grabbed one of your hands and guided it to his chest and let it travel down to his stomach, then right below his hips. His cock was standing tall through his towel, aching for your touch.

"It hurts here, too. Will you help me?"

You silently agreed with a nod, unable to take your eyes off his reddening cock, feeling as if you're in a trance.

Wrapping your hands around his shaft tightly, you slowly began to stroke him. A shaky, quiet moan comes out of Rafayel's lips.

Just a brief touch and he already feels like he's going to burst. He's unable to stop himself from fucking your hand, legs spread out and fingers grasping the bed sheets.

Rafayel cursed under bis breath as he came faster than he'd liked. He had come right on your hand and some had gotten to your face.

You licked the cum that got lost to your lips and Rafayel's face flushed at such a lewd image. He pulled you into the bed and embraced you sideways to cover your neck with passionate kisses

While he distracted you by leaving hickies below your jaw, his hands got rid of your shorts. You gasped as his fingers made contact with the crotch of your panty.

You grinded your ass against his hips to encourage him to continue, and so Rafayel moved your underwear aside and put his cock in you, at the same time his fingers massaged your clit.

His name comes out of your mouth as your body curls up with pleasure, allowing him to fuck you at a better angle.

"So good..." he pants against your ear, struggling to move at a slow pace.

He wanted to take his precious time to feel you, yet he also wanted to go fast just like what his throbbing cock in desperate need for release wants him to do.

In the end, he managed to keep things slow and sensual, appreciating every inch of you without a rush.

You rolled your hips back against him to meet him half-way, coating his cock with your slick as you struggle to contain your own desire for him.

Rafayel whines from behind you as you feel him picking up speed. "C-coming..." He tightened his hold on your hips before losing all his control and hammering into you, causing you to match the loud moans that he was letting out.

He quickly pulls out and rubs his cock against your legs before painting your skin with strings of his cum.

After coming not a minute after him, you turned around to face him. You brought a hand to his hair and brushed some sweaty strands away from his face, then you kissed his nose.

"So this is what happens when you get a massage."

"...only from you." he pouts. "Now, I feel even more tired. I'll have to stay in bed all day tomorrow. You'll stay with me, right, cutie?"

"Hmmm... nope."

"Why?! Is it because you don't love me?"

You flicked his forehead with your fingers. "Someone has to stop Thomas from barging in the room to see my lazy, exhausted fishie slacking off."

"Ah." He smiles and hugs you tightly, nuzzling his face against yours. "my hero."

xavier

It's not that you're ticklish.

There's just something about the way Xavier is kneading your body that makes it difficult for you to suppress amused giggles.

It might have something to do with his soft touches that doesn't help much with your sore muscles, although it does make bring you lots of warmth, comfort and joy.

That's why you allowed Xavier to give you a massage. He insisted that he gives you one after reading online that it'll help with tensed joints and muscles, so he watched some tutorial videos beforehand.

Now, you're on your couch, lying down facing the ceiling. According to Xavier, the less clothes, the more effective the massage will be. So, you decided to strip down completely but put a small towel over your breasts and crotch.

You're not even really sure why you bothered to cover up, considering Xavier has seen you naked more than enough times to feel shy.

In fact, when he saw you with the towels, he looked a little confused, though he never asked about it. He only told you to lie down and get comfortable.

After following his instructions, Xavier's first step was to give a few drops of oil on your stomach. It's slightly warm on your skin, and its scent was something similar to the fragrances that you frequently use.

He gave your tummy a few rubs, and you couldn't help but smile at how careful and gentle he was being.

When it was time for him to take care of your sore spots, you bit the inside of your cheek to stop your laughter.

You did feel some pressure, which felt nice. It just didn't last for long, as Xavier didn't exert the right amount of force.

It's not that he doesn't have enough strength - of course, he does; he is a strong hunter, after all. More likely, he's unsure of how much pressure to apply, at what angle, and for how long.

While it's not the best massage you'll ever get, he's still making you feel happy and relaxed in his own way. That's all that matters.

"You're not hurt, are you?" Xavier asked as he pressed on your hamstrings.

"Nope. I'm okay! Keep going, Xavier! You're doing great!"

"Okay!"

The way his face lit up had you melting and wanting to cuddle him. He's just too precious for his own good.

"...."

Ten minutes later, your eyes snapped wide open as you felt something....different, touch your thighs.

"What was that...?"

You looked at your legs and caught Xavier red-handed, pressing his lips on your inner right thigh.

"It's fine." He smiles at you. "It's part of the massage."

"...is it?"

"Mhmm. Just relax. It'll make your body feel better."

He resumed on applying pressure with his hands on your legs, so you brought your head back down on your pillow and closed your eyes for a little nap.

A minute later, you felt another kiss on your other thigh. You decided not to question him and let him do whatever he wanted.

But after the third kiss, which was slightly higher than the previous two, your muscles tensed up. Particularly, your pussy clenched as his lips lingered dangerously close to your core.

He does it a few more times, and the moans he's muffling against your skin absolutely didn't help your case: it only made you wet. And with Xavier being so close, he might notice.

He's over here, sacrificing his time and energy to help you feel relaxed, and yet you're getting turned on.

No, no, no. You'll have to control yourself. At least, wait until after he's done.

"Ngggnnhh,,,"

Oh god, he's doing it again.

This time, his kisses are even louder and higher. His hands are holding up your thighs so he can make space for himself.

You didn't even notice until now that Xavier no longer stood by the side of the couch, but he's now on it, too. He's right between your legs.

While you're looking down, Xavier met your gaze and your held your breath for a second. You know that look. It's the same one he often gives you in the bedroom during intimate activities.

"Xavier...."

"...I'm adding my own special techniques in the massage."

He scooted closer to your hips and lowered his face to give your thighs more kisses.

"This might be more effective."

Your face burned as you felt his tongue slide against your sensitive skin. You were unable to look away from Xavier's intense gaze directly on you.

"It feels good, right?"

You failed to come up with a coherent response as the towel that poorly covered your crotch had been dropped on the floor.

"I know you're still sore, so just stay like that." Xavier lowered himself so his chest is not too far from touching the couch. He's propped on his elbows and peeking at you between your legs. "I'll help you relax."

With that, Xavier's mouth rams into your cunt. His tongue feels your folds while his hands clings onto your thighs, spreading them wider.

You arched your back and hissed at his actions. One of your hands reached to down Xavier's face, but he caught it with his left and intertwined his fingers with yours, letting it drop to your side.

He gave you no time to calm down; his lips and tongue worked fast on making you fall apart just within a few minutes, but only because he had other things in mind.

Xavier pulled down his pants and boxers and brushed his cock against your pussy, not a minute after your orgasm. You were still sensitive, so when his tip traced around your folds, you were unable to keep your volume quiet and your insides felt like exploding.

"Xavier!"

He put the back of your legs over his shoulders, giving himself more space before grinding dick right between your folds. His breathing quietly picked up at the feeling of your core that's soaked just for him.

His eyes darted over to your face for a moment to flash you a smile.

And as much as you love Xavier, you were cursing him in your head.

How could he smile like you like that, as if he's not teasing and torturing you and calling it a 'massage'?

You can't even hate him because every cell in your body craves for him in every way possible. Anytime he smiles at you, you're on your knees for him - sometimes, literally.

"Ah!"

You were pulled out of your trance as soon as Xavier put himself inside fully you in one hard thrust.

His face flushes and his eyes are fixed on your breasts, watching them move along with the rest of your body as he repeatedly snaps his hips against yours.

The couch budges and the wooden floor creaks at Xavier's heavy plunges. The grunts leaving his parted lips joins your cries of pleasure and the sounds that your bodies are making as they collide.

Xavier is too far from your reach and there was nothing for you to hold onto, so you ended up running your hands down to your chest and squeezing your breasts as you gasp for air.

He let out a low growl under his breath as he watched your movements. He fucked you even faster at the same time he lowered his face down to your chest.

He captured your hands and pinned them by your sides before his mouth sucks in your left breast, with his tongue circling around your nipple.

He then switched to do the same on your right breast, though his teeth slightly nipped you as he felt his hips tingling.

Xavier made sure to push his cock in the deepest part of you before cumming. His voice echoes throughout your living room as he released every drop inside you while still his rolling his hips, slower and slower until his stamina is drained.

Your release quickly followed after his cock was pulled out. Xavier rested his body on top of yours, with his face on your chest, listening to your racing heart.

While you breathe heavily, your index finger traced the shell of his left bright red ear. His skin is slightly glowing with white light, too, as his evol sometimes acts up during or after he has an orgasm.

You'll never not be in awe of him.

"Hey, Xavier. Are you feeling tired?"

"Mhmm..."

He's sleepy now.

"Do you...want a massage?"

He opened one eye to catch your teasing grin "....if it's like the one I gave you...yes, please..."

"By the way, what kind of massage tutorial videos did you watch? They're kinda not that effect- "

"Don't worry about it."

gojo's relationship with sleep was… complicated. he seemed to view it as an optional activity, like flossing or paying taxes. you, on the other hand, considered sleep a sacred ritual, and dragging him to bed felt like trying to convince a hyperactive hummingbird to take a nap.

"psst," he whispered, loud enough to be heard in the next apartment. "hey."

you groaned, pretending to be a particularly heavy sleeper.

"hey," he repeated, poking your shoulder. you swatted his hand away, a silent leave me alone conveyed through the power of sleepy aggression.

"sweetheart. darling. my bestest friend. my favorite person in the entire universe. sugar-plum. chickadee. kitten-kins. schnukapussy."

"what?" you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

"do you want to play a game? like, a card game or something?"

"what?" you repeated, your brain still trying to process the concept of coherent sentences. "it's the middle of the night. why are you awake?"

"i'm bored. my brain won't shut up. it's like a radio stuck between stations."

"and you thought waking me up would fix that? now we're both going to be miserable," you grumbled, turning over.

"…so, about that game?" he asked, sounding genuinely hopeful.

you stared at him, resisting the urge to express your frustration with a well-placed pillow. "this is what happens when you eat a whole bag of candy before bed. you turn into a nocturnal gremlin."

he shrugged. "oops."

"don't 'oops' me. i'm trying to sleep."

"but you're awake now," he pointed out, with infuriating logic.

"that's not the point!" you sighed, pulling the covers over your head.

he gave you a look that said, "please? with a cherry on top?" and, against your better judgment, you caved. you sighed, pulling him closer. "fine. no games. but i'll do the hair thing. the one that makes you sleepy."

he settled against you, all warm and impossibly comfortable. "until i'm asleep?"

"yes," you said, keeping you eyes trained on him. "until you're asleep."

as you ran your hands through his white locks, he was out in minutes, snoring softly. you smiled, finally feeling yourself drift off.

then, just as you were about to fall asleep, your brain decided to stage a revolt. wide awake. you stared at the ceiling, wondering if you could convince gojo to share his ability to function on zero sleep. to say the least, this would be a long night.

GOOD GIRL.

nsfw (18+). includes pseudocest/incest, corruption kink, some dubious consent, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingulus, blowjob, protected sex and unprotected sex, porn ahh plot, caleb is part-time yearner full-time freak i fear, mc might not be a brotherfucker but caleb is definitely a sisterfucker thus this fic was born lmao, i am almost ashamed of the filth i created. fic is set in their student days. likes and reblogs will be very appreciated !!

perverted big brother!caleb who's probably more touchy with you than what is considered appropriate between “family.” his arm that's perpetually wrapped around your waist; his fingers sliding up your bare thigh when he tells you, “don't you think your skirt is too short? go change.”; his hand just an inch shy of squeezing your chest during nights you cuddle to sleep because you're too scared to sleep alone.

perverted big brother!caleb who you catch watching porn, his door cracked open just enough for you to hear his deep grunts and the slick noises his fleshlight makes when he pulls it down his huge cock. the girl on his laptop is loud and whiny, wailing as she's nailed to the mattress — “gege, gege, no more, i can't” — and when caleb cums, you swear he says your name.

perverted big brother!caleb who comes home earlier than he told you he would and sees you at the living room rubbing frustrated circles on your clit, struggling to fit a finger inside your cunt because you're not wet enough. so he pulls you into his lap, tunes out your exclaims of surprise, and says he'll teach you something good.

ten minutes later, you're gushing all over his pants, stuffed with three big fingers, clawing at his biceps and telling him “no more, i can't cum anymore, gege please.” yet caleb simply shushes you, chin tucked over your shoulder to admire how you squirt on his hand. “shh, you can do it. gege's gonna make you cum again.”

perverted big brother!caleb who teaches you other things that feel good as a reward when you answer the workbooks he gives you correctly. at one tutoring session, he played with your tits, licking and sucking at a bud and flicking the other. the last time, he rubbed you all over as he fucked his cock between your thighs, wet and sloppy with lube.

today, he pulls your legs apart, grabs the back of your knees, and puts his mouth to work. he makes out with your clit, licking under the hood, lightly grazes your skin with his teeth; you cream around his tongue when he shoves it inside your cunt. he sounds absolutely depraved, moaning as he drinks up the nectar from your sweet pussy, grinding his hard cock to the sheets.

it's then that he learns he loves eating you out. the next day, he makes you sit on his face, his nose bumping against your clit as his tongue laps away at your slick, fucking up his dick into his fist.

perverted big brother!caleb who teaches you how to suck cock under your silly pretense of “practicing for your future boyfriend.” he guides his dick into your mouth, gentle in spite of his thinly veiled anger and jealousy, and he teases you for having difficulty swallowing him in because your mouth is too small when in reality he's the one who's too damn big. he gives you filthy praise when you do something right, caressing your cheek as he groans his approval. “shit, it feels good when you suck the tip, mn... you better not have learned that from anyone else, pipsqueak.”

perverted big brother!caleb who takes away your virginity before anyone else can. he doesn't bring it up first — he makes you want it. sure, he stuffs your cunt with his fingers, licks all the sensitive spots on your body. he rubs his cock over your pussy and lets you give him a blowjob. but he never puts it in. so when you beg him — “gege, just the tip, please” — he doesn't make an effort to resist your request.

he lays you down on his bed, just like he's dreamed for so many years, and tears open a condom he prepared in advance. he pushes the head inside, and the tight heat of your pussy almost makes him cum on the spot. it's better than he ever imagined; so much better than his cold, pathetic fleshlight that he imagines was you. he thrusts in a slow, careful pace, watching you squirm over a single inch of his cock, and he bites back a grin as he fucks a few more centimeters every other thrust.

eventually, it reaches a point you feel utterly full, far more cored open than the first moment he slid inside you. “g-ge, that's more than just the tip...” you whine, pressing down on the slight bulge peeking out of your stomach. he merely smiles playfully before slamming home, the entire length of his cock fucking into your pussy in one, smooth thrust. “yeah. feels good, doesn't it?”

perverted big brother!caleb who takes every opportunity gran isn't home to have sex with his cute sister. not that he doesn't fuck you when she's home; it just means that neither of you has to sneak into the other's bedroom late at night, and you don't have to hide your voice anymore. now, he has you laid over the edge of the dining table, pulling your hips back onto his cock. he's always thought this table was the perfect height for him to fuck your pussy while he's standing. “you like this, pips?” he pants, enjoying the garbled moans that spill from your lips. “you like being your gege's fleshlight?”

at that, something clear sprays out of your cunt, soaking his abs wet. he chuckles darkly, thumb swiping over your clit to make you squirt more, making a bigger mess that pools at the floor beneath you. “you like being my fleshlight that much, huh? then i'll use your pussy as much as i want.”

perverted big brother!caleb who has lots of friends but he always declines their offers to hang out because he'd rather be with you. you know this because he seemingly always gets a call whenever you're in the middle of things. of course, the fucker answers the call in speaker, and you have to take extra care not letting your voice out because he's still pounding away at your pussy. “hm? gideon? sorry, i'm kind of busy. my sister needed help with something. want to say hi?”

you glare at him, but he only sets his phone beside your head, smirking in mischief. “h-hey, gideon, it's been a while. what? no, i'm totally f— ah— fine! just feeling a bit unwell, haha... hn... y-yeah, gege is taking care of me— ah...!”

once you let a moan slip, he immediately ends the call, smothering your lips with a kiss. “c'mon, princess, you couldn't hold it in? i'm the only who can hear you like this... mmph... stick out your tongue more...”

perverted big brother!caleb who gets jealous easily. when a boy gets too flirty with you, he gives them a withering glare. sometimes, you play along with the flirting just to see him get angry. later that day, the trip home would be silent, but the moment you're inside your house, he has you pinned on the door, his lips latching on your neck to suck a dark red hickey marking his territory. you don't get to move away from that spot for a long, long time — first, he wraps your legs around his waist as he thrusts inside you, then he fucks you from behind, your face pressing against the door and his hand around your mouth so you don't get too noisy. the sound of his hips slamming against your ass is almost deafening, and he takes a mental note to clean up the mess you squirted on the floor when you're done.

once he used up all the condoms he has on him, he doesn't bother bringing you to his room to get more. he fucks you raw, and now you feel every angry vein on his bare cock, sliding against your sweet spots. “should've done this from the start, fuck... your sweet pussy feels so much better... you like this better too, right? i bet you pulled that shit earlier because you wanted me to be rough with you.” he manages to pull out when he feels his release approaching, his cum spraying all over your torso as he kisses you, but you almost wish he hadn't.

perverted big brother!caleb who realizes late he's turned you into a cockslut. you visit his room more often, and even started taking birth control so he could cum inside. it's not like he'll ever turn you away, but tonight, he's feeling especially playful. “hm... i'm tired today, so i'm not feeling up to it right now. but it's fine if you're the one moving this time.”

this results in him leisurely laying on his bed, arms behind his head. he takes great pleasure in seeing you grind your bare pussy on his hardening cock, slathering your juices to make it wet. once you found it sufficiently lubed, you raised your hips, gripping the base of his dick to slowly drop on it. you've made it this far, but you're still quite shy — you take a long time pushing half of it inside you, so he decides to give you a little help and thrusts his hips upward. you gasp when all of it is slammed into you, leaning back and resting your hands on his thighs, your body in an enticing arch that presents your bouncing tits. “ah, gege, wait, that's too sudden—”

he rubs your engorged clit as you roll your hips on top of him, dropping your hips and getting back up to reach that deep spot inside. you're drooling, eyes almost rolled back, and it takes all his patience not to push you down and fuck you stupid. “what a great view. tell me, when did you become such a whore, pips? where did you learn how to do this?” he massages your tits, pulling at the nubs. “you said you liked being my fleshlight, but at this point, you're just using me to masturbate. do you like that? do you like using gege's cock as your personal dildo?”

“hng— ah— no...!”

“there's no need to be shy. c'mon, say it. you love gege's cock.”

“i... ahh...” you lose strength in your arms, collapsing in a heap over his chest. he immediately wraps his arms around you, patting your head soothingly. “gege... i love gege... i love you so much, gege... mn, haa...!”

the world comes to a stop. his brain takes a while to process your words, but you don't let him stay too long in his thoughts. you're still humping against him, whining desperately for him to move because you've gotten tired. for a moment, he even considers the possibility he was just hearing things. but there's no hiding the quick, racing heartbeat he feels pressed against his chest, matching his very own.

you love gege.

he moves his hand to cup your cheek, meeting your dazed eyes. they gain clarity when he softly kisses your forehead, an innocent peck that starkly contrasts everything you've been doing. “gege loves you too,” he utters gently, making sure you hear it loud and clear. “gege loves you the most in the world.”

caleb kitty 💕

satoru can’t help but be possessive over you even if the reason is rather silly, but why shouldn’t he? — when you belong to him? and it’s needless to say, his jealousy isn’t limited to humans either. | wc: 0.9k+

bickering and banter, satoru being dramatic (and jealous) as always, implied breeding at the end but all around fluff, mention of children, talks of becoming a furry, he’s not whiny the whole time (it’s just part of his master plan), a brief glimpse of cocky satoru. | heart divider by @/cafekitsune, swirl divider from pinterest and edited by me.

“satoru.”

“no.”

“i said i was sorry.”

“i don’t care!” his voice wobbles. “i-if you love him so much, just leave me for him!”

the words fly out of his mouth with all the confidence he could muster, but he regrets them as soon as they slip off his tongue.

“all i asked was to look at this picture. look, isn’t he cute?”, you coo, showing him your screen once more.

cute. CUTE?!

that seems to trigger satoru even more, and he whines, flopping onto the bed and kicking his feet back in the air like a child, punching the pillows as if they have wronged his whole bloodline.

“do you not care about me anymore — about us? is that why you’re doing this?”

the smack from your palm meeting your forehead is drowned out by his ceaseless tussle with the bedding.

“oh, please! you’re being ridiculous!”

“i am not!”

“yes, you are! satoru, i’m asking for us to get a cat! not to welcome someone into our bed!”

“i wouldn’t be surprised if you suggested that next…” he grumbles under his breath, momentarily pausing his tantrum in order to sass you.

“what was that?”

“nothing!”, he yelps.

you roll your eyes, growing tired of the conversation. it was a constant back and forth with him whenever you brought up the topic of getting a pet.

the both of you have the means to support one. the only problem is satoru. he didn’t want one. his reasoning is that, if you did, then he would have to share you, share your love and attention with another being — and he simply could not have that.

it was unacceptable, against the laws of (satoru’s) nature. your affection is meant for him and him only — it is his right as your husband.

sitting down on the edge of the bed, you huff, tossing the man-child a glance only to find him peeking up at you already with wide and pleading eyes, sniffling (though there was not a tear in sight) from behind the pillow covering half of his face.

“am i not enough for you?”, he speaks up quietly after the short-lived staring contest. at his self conscious words, your brows furrow, a frown on your lips.

“sator—” “you don’t need a cat if you have me! i can be your cat!”

oh?

“is that so?”

“yes. i’ll wear a fur suit and all. you can pet me whenever you feel the urge to. you always say my hair is super soft — like fur! i’ll make it even softer by using more conditioner if that’ll make you happy.”

“and, i wouldn’t mind being pampered some more...”, he adds on with a mumble, lips puckered into a kissy face as he reaches over and traces his pointer finger over the bare skin of your thigh in the shape of a heart.

as if he isn’t spoiled enough by you already.

“if anything, i deserve it!” he points his nose into the air.

you want to laugh out loud, but you manage to hold back, knowing if you did it would only offend your sensitive lover.

would satoru really resort to becoming a furry just to stop you? a part of you wants to see how far your husband would go for you — oh, wait, you already know. he never fails to show you everyday.

“that’s out of the question.” you reply quickly like it’s obvious.

“and why is that?”, he whines up at you.

“because, my darling husband, you are more akin to a puppy than a kitten.” you scratch his scalp. and just like magic, satoru leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he melts into the delicious feeling, and you swear you see a tad bit of drool pool at the corner of his lips.

“see?”, you tease.

“that proves nothing besides the fact i would be the perfect pet for you, my owner.”

you groan, and he relishes in the feeling that only he could rile you up so much like this.

satoru certainly has a way with words, and it is clear this is going no where, that is, until a thought pops into your head.

“and what if our future children want a cat?”

satoru pauses. that seems to capture his interest. he perks up, shuffling to sit. his demeanor shifts completely. gone is the pout which is replaced with his signature smirk.

“now you’re talking my language, sweetheart.”

“so that’s what makes you reconsider? a child in exchange for an animal?” your eyes widen in disbelief, tone exasperated, yet truly, not surprised. “was this your plan all along?”, you deadpan.

“maybe,” he flashes you a toothy grin, those blue eyes of his twinkling menacingly. though, it isn’t just any child, it is yours and his, a being created from your combined images — and he certainly doesn’t mind that. “but enough talking. we should get started on our kid if you want that cat of yours.”

there really is no way around this, is there? if there’s one thing about satoru, it is that he (and his stiffening cock) are just as persistent as you, annoyingly and endearingly so.

you sigh. “well, i must say, you drive a hard bargain, mr. gojo.”

with a pleased hum, he takes your wrist, pressing a soft kiss atop your dainty hand, a gentle smile creeping onto his lips, knowing he’s won this time.

“only when it comes to you, mrs. gojo.”

p.s. — you do indeed get your cat after this, and satoru gets his baby. a happy ending all around. the end : )

just the tip with caleb.... he's still hesitating with you even after confessing his feelings. you have to assure him one thousand times over that you want him but the guilt and hesitation just linger. he always promised he'd never lay his hands on you.

but he's only human, only so strong - and the sight of you humping his cock through his sweats is too much. batting your lashes, sweet and doe-eyed - the kind of face you used to make when you begged him for something you're not supposed to have. knows it like the back of his hand after spending most of his life falling for it.

somethings never change. of course he caves when you're like that. hands on his chest, cheek to his shoulder, kissing his neck. he doesn't know if you're trying to torture him by whining into the side of his throat - repetitive slurred pleas. gimme, please. he feels so guilty. he should take it easy on you, really.

just the tip is his compromise. a little. until you get used to it. of course you're not happy but caleb placates you the best he can. lays you on your back with your legs spread and your knees up. doesn't know where to focus his eyes. the look on your face is too much but so is your pussy. wet and slick, flush with need.

just the tip he promises. and you blink. bite your cheek with such dire anticipation. he slides in after fingering you so it's not too hard to do. but the stretch. the warmth. enough to resist him. you moan like the air is being punched right out of your lungs and caleb nearly bites a hole through his lip because fuck. he can feel his hips twitch. wants to sheath himself inside and force his way into your cunt. always been his, hasn't it?

but caleb is caleb. he gets about an inch deep and stops there no matter how much you try to shove him in your deeper. pins your hips to your bed and fucks you with just the very tip. in and out - always amazed by how it flutters for him. how fucking easy you make it look even when he's as thick as he is.

but its worse doing it like this. the most sensitive part of his dick nestled, swallowed by the warmest, tightest part of your pussy while you're helplessly held down. its just a measure to make sure you don't misbehave.

but it feels wrong. dirtier. feels like he's masturbating with your body. he feels like he's defiling you more this way.

and you're getting off on it. cut from the same cloth like always.

i moaned out loud

Omg all the overstim in your sylus and raf works 😫🤤 makes me wonder if you have headcannons about how the other boys would be 🫣

can I make you lose your mind? (caleb, rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne)

♱⋅── nearly 7k of the lads boys just losing their minds (and their control) when it comes to you. art by @/osk_purinnumee on x

♱⋅── WARNINGS: mdni, overstimulation, oral, pussy drunk boys, daddy kink (caleb), bicep choking (caleb), "just the tip" (sylus), size kink (sylus), cunnilingus (xavier), Lemurian heat (rafayel), orgasm denial (rafayel), breeding kink (rafayel), slight exhibisionism (zayne)

Caleb ♱⋅ ── the bully

How could Caleb deny you? 

How could he when you come to him crying big crocodile tears, sobbing how no matter what you do you can’t seem to cum, how you think you must be broken, how no one would ever want such a hard-to-please woman in their bed. 

As if he hasn’t spent years watching you, waiting for you, knowing damn well that the problem isn’t you.

So of course Caleb, being such a kind and thoughtful gege, has to prove you wrong, right?

He does. Over. And over. And over again. That is, until you’re crying in overstimulation, writhing away from his punishing thrusts, clawing against the sheets as you try to run from the pleasure-turned-pain.

Or, tried to.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. Where do you think you’re going?”

You’re running? No, no you can’t run away, not when he’s already spent his entire fucking life chasing you. 

Caleb’s voice is teasing, raspy and sweet, but there’s nothing playful about the way his Evol surges to life with a mere crook of his finger, dragging you back along the mattress and pinning you down as he takes his sweet time crawling back to you. 

Trapped, your breath hitches as you feel the weight of him settle over you, his intimidating frame caging you in, tracing featherlight kisses along your spine in such a stark contrast to how ruthlessly he was fucking you earlier. His hands roam, slow and deliberate, kneading your ass as he repositions himself behind you.

"If I let you go," he murmurs, "you promise not to run?"

Run? Why did you even want to run? You can’t remember now, not as you viciously nodding your head as much as is allowed under the control of his Evol, already arching your back into his touch as Caleb nips and marks your sticky inner thighs. 

“Good girl.” The pressure disappears. 

Immediately, Caleb replaces it, his entire body pressing you down before you can so much as take a proper breath. His arm snakes around your throat, flexing just enough to remind you who’s in control, the bulging, thick mass of his bicep choking you deliciously when you attempt to squirm or beg.

He’s got you in a headlock, the rest of his corded body pressing down atop you until your chest is squished to the mattress, ass pressed against Caleb’s pelvis, the combined pressure enough for you to be seeing stars. A drooling, overstimulated mess.

It doesn’t help that he’s practically panting like a dog in your ear, whining as he already begins thrusting himself back into your cunt, delirious moans of your name and filthy praises cooed right into your ear, words barely distinguishable with how hard he’s breathing. 

“Aww p-poor thing.” Caleb pants, voice wrecked, whiny with need as he grinds himself against you. His pace is already brutal, his thrusts sharp and unforgiving, every desperate snap of his hips forcing a cry from your throat as his grip tightens, choking you deliciously every time you so much as try to squirm.“Can you be good for me? Be my sweet little girl and cum for daddy.”

It shouldn’t be hot, Caleb, your gege, calling himself daddy, it shouldn’t have you sobbing out an unintelligible plea as another orgasm builds, seizing up your body in tight, aching waves. And yet here you are, loosing your fucking mind at it.

“Please,” you gasp, voice muffled as you sink your teeth into his bicep, embarrassed by the desperate sound of your own voice. “Please, daddy.”

For the first time in thirty minutes, you feel Caleb stop. 

He’s frozen entirely, dick hot and throbbing with need within you, each shaky breath hitting your ear as he pressed down closer, flattening, suffocating you into the mattress as you feel the growl come from his throat. You can hear the way his lips curl into a grin. 

“You wanna say that again, princess?”

Whining, you try and arch your back further, wiggling your hips up as you try and bait Caleb into continuing, into giving you that release that was only just out of reach. But he wasn’t having any of that bratty attitude tonight. 

“Behave.” Caleb’s arm tightens, and your vision swims. ”I asked you a question. You need daddy to—ah shit you tightened, dirty girl— fuck you nice and full, hmm? Fuck you stupid?” 

A fresh wave of humiliation burns down your spine, but it doesn't matter. You’ll say whatever he wants if it means he moves, if it means he chokes you more, if it means he finally gives you what you need one more time. 

“Yes, m’close, please daddy! Please—ah—let me cum one more time.” 

Caleb just snaps.

His grip tightens instinctively. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel it, enough to make your breath stutter, your body jolt like the sweet little thing you are under his grasp. His entire frame tenses above you, muscles coiling so tightly it’s like he’s holding himself together with sheer willpower alone. But it’s already slipping.

"Fucking," His voice breaks, dissolving into a strangled groan as he buries his face against your neck, breathing you in like a man starved. "Fuck that shouldn’t be so hot, it really shouldn’t—"

Like you haven't already wrecked him beyond repair.

Caleb’s Evol comes back full force, pushing you prone against the mattress so you can’t feel anything but him, the arm around your throat dropping so his hand can press against your belly instead, pinning you down as he fucks into you so deep, so hard, you swear you can feel him in your lungs. His other hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back just enough for his lips to smash onto yours, sloppy, desperate, sucking at your bottom lip as the two of you jolt with each thrust. 

"You have no fucking idea," Caleb laughs against your lips, the words a feverish, choked-out confession, "how long I've wanted to do this to you."

It’s almost like he’s hammering that truth into you, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, the sound of skin on skin nearly drowned out by your own sobs of pleasure.

"Caleb—"

"Say it again," he demands, not even trying to keep his composure anymore. "Say it for me, princess. Say it like you mean it."

"Daddy—"

"Fuck."

Caleb really didn't need another kink, he really didn't need to imagine you calling him all these filthy things on top of every other sinful thing he's already imagined you doing. It must be divine punishment, because god was he into it.

Practically collapsing on top of you, Caleb's barely pulling out before grinding right back in as deep as he can get, like he can barely think to part from you even for a moment, like he needs to feel every twitch, every squeeze, every shudder of your overstimulated body. His hands roam wildly, equally greedy, kneading and groping every tender curve like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you, like he’s claiming you in ways he’s never let himself before. And fuck, you’re close. 

Caleb notices, of course he notices, nibbling the shell of your ear as the arm around your throat tightens, the other going right back to abusing your clit as you squirt all over him with a scream. 

“Aw that’s it, keep cumming sweet thing.” Caleb’s voice is the only thing grounding you, your entire body, your vision trembling as you begin to lose consciousness. The only thing you can think of is Caleb. Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!

You don’t even realize you’re screaming his name over and over again as you squirt down both of your thighs, making a mess against the already ruined sweat-slicked sheets beneath the two of you. You’re so damn messy. He loves it.

Convulsing, walls fluttering around him like you’re made for him, a sweet temptation Caleb is so laughably weak against as he follows, humping against you like a mad dog as his breath shatters into desperate, shaky moans of your name, spilling inside you with a force that has you sobbing with pleasure.

“Oh, princess,” he rasped, his tongue tracing over the tear-streaked path down your cheek before pressing a soft, almost mocking kiss to your jaw. “Shh, it’s alright, don’t cry. Your gege is here, your daddy will take good care of you, promise.”

Rafayel ♱⋅ ── the desperate

You’re going to have to call in sick for the week. 

Every year with the return of the tide, with the return of ebb-and-flow day, Rafayel becomes insatiable. You’ve barely been able to be able to escape Rafayel’s grasp for long enough to go to the bathroom, let alone escape enough from his insatiable fucking to walk well enough to fight. 

It’s never been this bad. And it’s all your fault. Being back in your arms after eight hundred years, finally remembering the way your voice sounds when it says his name and the way you fit oh so perfectly in his arms. It’s borderline painful to spend even a minute in your absence. His very body violently rejects the notion of it as spasms of violent heat and need drives him right back into your arms again and again and again. 

“Please, please let me fuck you. I can’t come like this, you know that.”

Rafayel’s voice is muffled against your thigh, breath hot as he presses a messy, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. His hands are clenched into the sheets beside him, trembling with the effort of keeping them off you, as you ordered. It’s the only rule you’ve given him tonight, and yet it’s breaking him.

"Rafayel," you warn, fingers buried between your thighs, working yourself open as his desperate, pleading gaze follows your every movement.

He whimpers, nodding frantically, his cock throbbing angrily where it rests against the mattress, one hand coming back to violently fist the swollen head as it leaks all over his palm and sheets.  "I know, I know," his voice cracks as he drags his hand around its base, rutting into his own palm like it’s not enough, like it hasn’t been enough for hours now. "But please I—fuck—I can’t."

“You can.” You spread your legs wider, letting him see, letting him watch your fingers disappear into your fluttering cunt with a slick, wet sound that has his jaw going slack, his own hips grind into the bed helplessly.  “I told you what would happen if you forgot to use a condom, again.”

Rafayel’s eyes plead up into yours, big fat tears slipping down his cheeks, his head shaking against your leg as he kisses the trembling flesh. "You don't understand," he sobs, nuzzling into the crook of your knee like he can smell the orgasm building inside you, like he can taste it on his tongue already. “I need- I need—”

"You need to learn control, Rafayel." 

Your voice is less strict than you’d like it to be, already embarrassingly close considering all the times you’ve come earlier today. And the way Rafayel’s looking up at you, begging, pleading, is really not helping. 

Tilting your hips slightly, you circle your clit in a way that makes your eyes roll back, making sure he sees the way your poor cunt flutters all empty, the way your body clenches, desperate for something more, something bigger.

Rafayel groans, his grip on himself tightening. Still, it’s useless, his Lemurian biology physically won’t let him cum unless it’s inside his pretty little mate, his cock swollen and weeping with how much he’s holding back, the pleasure that spikes through him now nothing but a cruel, agonizing echo of the real thing.

"My love," he chokes, head falling back against the mattress, his throat bobbing as he tries to breathe past the desperate hunger clawing at his insides. "My muse, my sweet darling, please. Taste you, touch you, anything, please!”

You hum, considering, rolling your hips against your own fingers as he moans, watching with wild, fevered eyes. "You wanna clean me up?"

"Yes."

The word is instant, sharp, like Rafayel’s been waiting for you to say it since the moment he first laid his hands on you tonight. Before you can even think of teasing or denying him any further, his grip snaps—both arms wrapping around your thighs, dragging you down the mattress in one swift, fluid motion.

"Rafayel—"

Too late.

His mouth is on you before you can protest, his tongue filthy as he sucks at your clit, licking up everything you’ve given yourself, drinking in the mess between your thighs like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. Slapping your own hands away, Rafayel pauses briefly to suck them clean before diving right back into the source, moaning into your cunt, making your body seize with another orgasm before you can even process the first.

"Fuck, fuck," Your hands fly to his hair, gripping hard, but it only makes him groan, rutting against the mattress, his own pleasure reigniting just from the taste of you. 

You try to pull away, squirming and kicking at Rafayel’s sides, his shoulders, but he doesn't even budge. His arms lock tight around your hips, keeping you there, keeping you spread for him as he eats you out like a man possessed. 

And then he's begging again, voice wrecked, slurred with delirious pleasure, licking at your clit between words as though he really can’t get enough.  “Please, please let me fuck you. I promise, mhm, promise I won’t cum inside you again.” 

Rafayel is still begging for permission even as he manhandles you beneath him, hesitantly parting with your cunt as he kisses up your stomach, sucking at one of your breasts as you feel the nudge of his cock against your entrance before you can even think. “Promise I’ll be good. I’ll be such a good boy.”

Fuck, you really are weak against him. 

Using the last of your strength, you flip the both of you around, grinding down against his cock as you feel it throb, violently jumping between your thighs, the sloppy, wet sound of each movement sending shivers down both your spines. Poor thing is already ruined, body extra sensitive due to his heat, cock swollen and leaking as it begs to be inside you. 

"You promise?" Your voice is a whisper, teasing, as you drag your soaked folds along the length of him, feeling him tremble beneath you.

Rafayel nods frantically, breath hitching, hands twitching at his sides like he wants to grab you, wants to force you down onto him, but he knows better. Knows he wouldn’t survive the punishment. His lips are red, glossy with your slick, parted around little choked-off whimpers as he fights against the desperate urge to rut up into you.

"I promise," he gasps,  "Please, I’ll be good, I swear, I’ll be so good for you.”

You hum, dragging your fingertips down his chest, nails scraping lightly over sweat-slicked skin, enjoying the way his breath shudders at the contact. The pain. "You say that, but you've already come inside me, what, three times now?" 

You rock your hips again, coating his cock in your arousal, watching the way his abs twitch with the effort of keeping still. Gods, he’s so pretty like this, neglected and crying underneath you, muscles strained and glistening with sweat and cum, watercolor eyes bleary as his tears collect on the mattress as dusky pink pearls. The same rosy shade of blush that burns across his cheeks, ears, and throbbing tip of his swollen cock. 

“That warrants punishment, don’t you think?”

Rafayel all but whines at that, head tilting back against the pillow, his throat bobbing as he tries to breathe, tries to hold on to the last fragile thread of control he has left. "I—I won't this time, I swear, I’ll be good, I just need you."

"You need me?" You lean down, pressing your lips just below his ear, letting your voice drop to a sinful whisper. "Or do you just need to fuck something, sweetheart?"

"You." Rafayel’s answer is immediate, desperate, his hands finally snapping up to grip your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh. "It’s always you. Only you, my mate."

The admission makes your stomach tighten, heat pooling low as you let yourself sink down, just enough for the swollen head of his cock to catch at your entrance. Rafayel jerks, eyes wide, mouth dropping open around a silent moan, his grip on you tightening like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

"Oh, fuck."

"You need me, you need your mate?" You tease, rolling your hips, letting him feel the wet heat of you without giving him what he really needs.

"Yes, please, please, please—"

And then, because you’re cruel, because you love seeing him like this, you lift yourself off him entirely.

Rafayel practically cries at that, and you let him plead, let him beg, until his whole body is shaking with the need to be inside you, until his voice is raw and wrecked from crying out your name. Then, finally, finally, you sink down, dropping the entirety of your weight onto him as you both moan at the sudden pressure as your ass smacks his pelvis with a lewd slap. 

Rafayel’s body aches up off the mattress, a wrecked, strangled moan tearing from his throat as his fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise. His head tilts back, chest heaving, eyes glassy and unfocused, dilated almost like a cat’s, as if the feeling of being inside you after so long is too much for his mind to comprehend.

"Fucking finally."

You barely have a moment to adjust before Rafayel thrusts.

Whatever fragile restraint he had is gone, obliterated the second your walls squeeze around him. His hips jerk up in a desperate, instinctual rut, shoving himself deeper, harder, until the thick length of him is buried to the hilt inside you, and then pulled all the way out before ramming back in again. You choke on a gasp, nails digging into his chest, but he doesn’t even seem to register the pain.

"More." Some inhumane warble distorts Rafayel’s voice, nails turning clawed and sharp as he thrusts up into you with more strength than any human should possess. “Perfect, perfect mate.”

Your head spins, the force of each snap of his hips making your whole body jolt. His desperation is relentless, dragging you closer to the edge far too fast, too intense, gripping onto his shoulders just to keep you from falling over as your thighs begin trembling once again. 

"Rafayel—Raf, slow down!"

"No," he whimpers, shaking his head wildly, hands tightening on your waist as if letting go isn’t an option. "No, please, sorry, need this." Rafayel’s voice breaks into a sort of trill, something like whalesong, eyes fluttering shut as he drives himself up into you, starved for more, cock throbbing desperately inside you. "Don’t leave me again, please.”

Your heart clenches. "I’m here," you whisper, leaning down, pressing your forehead to his as your body moves with his, rolling your hips as you try to stay in time with his brutal pace. "I’m right here, Rafayel."

He moans, high and broken, clutching you so tightly against him, feeling every inch of you pressed into his skin. His pace turns frantic, sloppy, body shaking beneath you as pleasure racks through him in violent waves. He’s close, but he won’t let himself fall over the edge alone.

"Come with me," he begs, his lips brushing over yours as he pleads for it. "Please.”

And you do.

The orgasm slams through you like a tidal wave, stealing every breath from your lungs as your entire body clenches around him. Rafayel keens, hips jerking wildly as he follows, his cock pulsing inside you as he fucks his cum deep inside you yet again, stuffing you full until you’re both shaking with overstimulation.

But it still doesn’t stop.

Rafayel can’t stop.

Even as his body trembles beneath you, even as his whimpers turn into sobs, he keeps moving, his hips rolling into you in slow, messy grinds. His cock twitches inside your still-clenching walls, sending violent aftershocks through you both.

"Mhh sorry," he moans, lips dragging down your throat, sucking bruises into your skin as if marking you will somehow keep you tethered to him. "Did it again, can’t help it. Pussy feels so nice, wants me too, always so desperate for me. Made to worship me."

You let out a wrecked, exhausted laugh, trying to lift yourself off of him, but his arms snap tight around your waist, keeping you anchored to him.

"No," he pleads, voice cracking, nuzzling into your neck as he breathes in your scent. "No, please, just—just a little more. You owe it to me for being so mean before."

Your head falls into the crook of his neck as yet another orgasm crashes through you, ripping a moan from your throat. Rafayel shudders, gasping against your skin, completely gone, his hips jerking helplessly, overstimulated beyond the point of caring. His body is moving on instinct now, neither of you fully conscious as he keeps moving on his own, chasing another high even as it breaks him.

"Fuck, Raf...”

"One more," he’s licking into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip, too tired and uncoordinated to properly kiss you. "One more, one more."

You don’t even know how many times you’ve both come. The world is a haze of heat and pleasure, of wet, messy grinds and deep, instinctual thrusts, of Rafayel’s loud, unashamed moans directly in your ear between kisses, of the desperate way he clings to you, unable to bear even a second, an inch of separation.

You ride him through another, and another, until your body finally gives out, completely limp against his chest, your limbs trembling too hard to keep yourself upright any longer. Rafayel follows soon after, his movements slowing, stuttering, until he’s finally, finally still beneath you, panting raggedly, body wracked with aftershocks.

The room is finally silent except for your heavy breathing, the two of you floating between sleep and reality for what seems like an eternity. 

"I think I might die," Rafayel croaks, voice hoarse.

You huff a weak, breathless laugh as you grumble into his shoulder. "Good, you stupid horny fish."

Sylus ♱⋅ ── the sweetheart (liar)

You’re going insane. 

Sylus promised he would finally fuck you, promised he’d finally give you what you’ve practically been begging him for all week. “Just the tip,” you’d beg, whining into his neck or suckling gently against his fingers in attempts to bait him, “Please, Sy, just the tip and I’ll stop asking.”

Technically speaking, he’s held up his end of the deal. After all, you’ve already cum four times. Not that it’s ever stopped you from wanting more. 

“What’s this? Are you even listening to me, sweetie?” Something jerks your head up, and you’re snapped out of your thoughts at the same time as Sylus grinds forward, humming as he pulls you closer on his lap, your thighs spread wide atop of his. “Tch, first all that whining and now you’re not even paying attention to me. I’m hurt, kitten.”

You shake your head as best you can with his thumb and forefinger still squishing your cheeks, tears from the sheer overstimulation blurring your vision as you bury your face into Sylus’s chest, chasing the mere friction. 

The fat head of his cock slips right back out of your cunt, tapping once, twice, on your swollen clit before grinding back in with a lewd pop. One inch, two, just enough for you to feel the delicious stretch of the tip of his cock, before Sylus lifts you up higher on his lap, pulling out as the torture begins all over again. 

You swear you can take more. It doesn’t matter than everytime Sylus lines up his cock it hits your bellybutton from the outside, it doesn’t matter that your hands can barely wrap around his base, it doesn’t matter that even when you suck him off your jaw throbs and he can barely thrust it in halfway without you gagging. 

“Sylus, please, please just—” you whine, rutting your hips down to no avail as his firm hands render you immobile. Watching you squirm with thinly veiled amusement. “Just fuck me already!” 

Your breath comes out in short, stuttered gasps, frustration bubbling over into pitiful little sobs against Sylus’s skin. He shushes you, rubbing slow, teasing circles into your hips as if he’s offering you comfort. But you know better. The bastard lives for this, the way your body trembles, how your cunt clenches down hard every time he pulls out, desperate for more than what he’s giving.

“Please.” A broken cry rips from your throat as he nudges forward again, pushing the tip back inside like he hasn’t already driven you half-mad. “I can take it. Ah, I swear, I can take it.” 

And yet, he’s still so fucking mean.

“Hmm,” Sylus’s voice drips with amusement, low and tinged with laughter as his lips graze the shell of your ear as though lost in thought. “No.”

You whine, digging your nails into Sylus’s back with more force than necessary as you hiss out curses, “Cruel, stubborn, self-assured asshole. I told you I can take it Syl—ah!”

Sylus pushes himself upward, roughly fucking his swollen tip against you, ramming that delicious spot within you as your curses dissolve into mindless babbles of his name, another orgasm ripping through you as you try and match Sylus’s rhythm by grinding yourself on the rest of his cock. 

“That’s it,” He hums, dragging his tongue along your pulse, relishing the way it hammers beneath his mouth.  He can feel how fast it beats, erratic and needy, the way your breath catches in your throat. “You’re gonna be good and take what I give you. Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re already fucked stupid. And I’ve barely even given you anything, kitten.”

It’s humiliating how right he is.

Your thighs tremble violently on either side of his, the ache in your muscles a dull, distant thing compared to the unbearable need twisting in your core. Desperate, you try to grind down, to force him deeper, to make him give you what you need. But Sylus just clicks his tongue, unimpressed, fingers digging into your hips as he holds you still, keeping you right where he wants you.

Sylus shifts back on the couch, pulling you down, controlling your movements with an infuriating ease, guiding you along the few inches he’s deemed fit to give you. It’s barely anything, nowhere near enough, but even that—just that slow, teasing roll of his hips—and the unbearable pressure of the thick, insistent tip of his cock is enough to make your back arch violently against him. 

“There we go,” he murmurs, cooing as he watches you, helpless and pliant in his lap. “No more complaining.”

A desperate nod. Another broken whine. 

You can feel it building again, the pressure coiling deep inside you, sharp and unbearable. Sobbing, you drop your head into Sylus’s shoulder, biting into the curve of his neck to muffle your cries, nails digging into his shoulders, chest, clawing violent red marks as Sylus shudders, eyes rolling back at the pain. Your legs are shaking too hard to do much of anything anymore, giving out as Sylus is the only thing left guiding you, dragging you toward yet another orgasm. 

Or rather, he would have. 

But you feel Sylus chuckle, the sound deep and sinful as it rumbles down his chest and into yours, and fear prickles along your spine. Then, with excruciating patience, he pulls out, leaving you empty all over again before tapping his throbbing cock against your clit—slow, deliberate, taunting.

“You wanted just the tip, sweetheart.” He grins, voice a low, cruel purr as he kisses your forehead. “So don’t start crying now that it’s all you’re getting.”

Xavier ♱⋅ ── the munch

“Then sit on my face.”

You stare, dumbfounded, as Xavier already begins leaning back against the cushions of your bed, those big, blue eyes begging up at you in ways that make it hard to breathe. 

Xavier’s hands tighten around your waist, fingers flexing like he’s barely restraining himself from yanking you down then and there. The heat of his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making your pulse stammer, making every inch of you ache with want.

“Xavier, I didn’t actually mean…”

“You want me to prove it, right? Then I’ll do what I can to serve you well.” He’s dead serious, you realize, still staring down at him in shock as Xavier frowns, sitting up just long enough to wrap his arms around your waist and haul you toward him, seating you on his chest as protests die in your throat. “Sit.”

Biting your lip, you still find yourself hesitating. What if you’re too heavy? Or if he doesn’t actually like it? You still have your underwear on, shouldn’t you take it off, or does he plan on eating you through it? What if—

"You're thinking too much again." His voice is firm, but gentle, cutting straight through your spiraling thoughts. Before you can get another word in, he lifts you up from the backs of your thighs, guiding you forward until your knees are bracketing his head and you're hovering just above his waiting mouth.

Xavier groans, this is already better than his dreams—just having you above him, so close, so warm—is enough to make him lose his damn mind. His hands are keeping you steady, and when he tilts his head back to look at you again, you almost drown in the sheer hunger in his gaze.

"Please," he murmurs, breathless, sucking and kissing into your thighs like he can't believe you're making him wait so long for something he so, so desperately needs. "I really don’t think I can wait much longer."

A shudder racks through you, thighs trembling as the heat between your legs grows unbearable. Xavier’s so serious, so patient, despite the raw hunger in his voice, despite the way his chest rises and falls in uneven pants beneath you. You’d have to be cruel to deny him. 

Slowly, you lower yourself the rest of the way, bracing your hands against the headboard as Xavier immediately pulls you the last few inches down, shoving his face up into you like he’s starving.

He might as well be because the first swipe of his tongue is so hot, so eager, that you nearly jerk away from the sudden pleasure. Not that Xavier would let you. His fingers dig into the marked-up plush of your thighs, keeping you right there as he groans into your pussy like you’re the best fucking thing he’s ever tasted.

“Wait—” Your voice is already breaking, a gasp caught in your throat as he licks into you again, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second of it. He doesn’t even bother pulling your underwear aside, just mouths at the fabric, dampening it further, teasing you through the barrier until it sticks to your folds and you’re a whimpering mess, gripping the headboard so tightly your knuckles ache. 

Then he shifts, hooking a single finger under the waistband, dragging it aside just enough to give himself proper access.

The first real flick of Xavier’s tongue against your clit is devastating.

A high, broken moan rips from your throat as pleasure jolts up your spine, your thighs snapping shut around his head, suffocating him as Xavier feels like the happiest man in the world. Moaning into your cunt, Xavier pulls you down harder against his mouth like he wouldn’t mind drowning in your pleasure if it meant he got to taste you for just a few seconds longer.

You’re already cumming. Head falling backward, your lips part in a silent scream as Xavier’s tongue continues circling around your clit in that same, devastating rhythm, only letting go once you’ve come all over his face. But he doesn’t stop for long. 

His tongue flicks and curls and fucks into you with the kind of dedication that makes your vision blur, that makes your whole body burn as you become more and more sensitive. And when you grind down against his mouth, desperate and trembling, he just groans in approval, encouraging you to ride his face like you need this just as much as he does.

"That's it," Xavier mumbles between licks, inaudible between your wet, sinful noises. "Don't hold back. Use me."

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling hard, but it only makes him grin against you, only makes him suck harder, making you gasp and sob as your thighs start to shake once more around his head. Still, he devours you, no teasing, no hesitation. Just raw, ravenous hunger. 

"Xavier—"

He hums in response, the vibrations sending another sharp wave of pleasure through you. Then he finally fucks his tongue deep into your cunt, curling against your walls as you clench around the hot muscle, Xavier’s nose grinding deliciously into your clit as his hands begin guiding you back and forth once your rhythm falls apart. 

You come hard, a choked cry ripping from your throat as your body locks up, pleasure searing through every nerve. Xavier doesn’t stop—doesn’t let you escape—licking and sucking you through your orgasm like he needs every drop, like he won’t be satisfied until you’re a writhing, overstimulated mess above him.

“Ah, Xavier, seriously,” you whine, every suck against your clit now tender and overstimulated as you try and squirm away to no avail. “Can’t, Xavier, can’t come again!”

Crying, you finally manage to wrestle his head out from underneath you—body still shaking, pleasure crackling under your skin like a live wire—realizing something that makes your stomach flip.

Xavier is panting, eyes half-lidded and hazy with bliss, hair fisted in your hands as the rest sticks to his forehead and pillow with sweat, letting you inch off of him as he finally breathes, heaving in deep breaths through swollen, wet lips. His whole body shudders beneath you, and when you shift, you feel it—the sticky warmth against his stomach, the evidence of his release.

He came. Just from eating you out.

And the worst part?

He’s still hard.

“One more time, please?”

Zayne ♱⋅ ── the addicted

Uh oh. 

This was bad. 

Zayne has always considered himself a beacon of self-control, having grown up under the concept of restraint and caution when it came to everything from his Evol to his life’s work as a surgeon. 

But even he could get addicted to having you spread out underneath him like this. 

It had started innocently. Zayne had forgotten his lunch today, probably due to his consecutive sleepless nights, thanks to being on call for not two or three but four surgeries this week. So when you delivered his lunch to his private office like any sweet girlfriend would do, it was only natural that you’d want to see if you could help him feel more relaxed and maybe help relieve the stress that was so clearly fogging up his mind. 

This, however, was not what you had in mind.

"Zayne, someone is going to hear us," you hiss, voice trembling, but make no move to stop him.

Zayne only hums, two fingers rubbing right up against your clit with expert precision even with your jeans still unzipped around your waist. His other hand shucks them just barely down your thigh, pressing his fingers right back in, curling against that spot that has your legs jerking against the polished wood of his desk before dragging his fingers out of you agonizingly slow. 

"You should’ve locked the door when you came in, then." He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, leaning down, his breath hot against your ear. His free hand presses against your stomach, keeping you pinned as he fucks you open with his fingers, movements slow, deliberate. "You know I don’t like being interrupted."

Your head tilts back against the desk as your cries are muffles into your palm. "Zayne!"

"You were the one who wanted to help relieve my stress, weren’t you?" His voice is calm, collected, like he isn’t knuckle-deep inside you with his fingers glistening from how wet he’s made you already. "So be a good girl and take it."

Your breath stutters, thighs twitching as you clench around his fingers, already embarrassingly close with how well he knows your body, how pent up you’ve been after not having Zayne in over a week. Meanwhile, Zayne watches you come undone with sharp, almost clinical eyes, the hunger in them barely restrained, a predator biding his time.

"Mhm, close, I can’t—"

"Yes, you can," he cuts you off smoothly, pressing his fingers deeper, rubbing firm, steady circles over your clit. His expression doesn’t change, but his voice dips lower, smiling ever so slightly as he watches you. "Come for me."

You shudder violently, hands gripping the edges of the desk as another orgasm threatens to crash over you, your body far too weak to resist the relentless pleasure.

"Zayne," you cry out, hips jerking.

He clicks his tongue, allowing you to ride out your orgasm, but not before ripping his tie off, deft, scarred hands looping through the expensive silk before balling it up and pushing it into your open mouth. 

“What did I say about staying quiet?”

Your response is stifled around his tie, and Zayne feels his traitorous cock throb at the sound of your fucked out, inaudible voice, the very picture of debauchery with the slight drool smearing your lipstick, your eyes hazy with post-orgasm glow, your office button-down skewed across your breasts just enough so be can squeeze your breast right under your lacy bra. 

He wants to ruin you even more. 

Zayne has barely even zipped down his pants, holding up his own shirt as he bites it to keep his leaking cock from smearing pre-cum all over the cotton, before he’s desperately fucking his own fist with one hand, the other still circling your clit. 

When the sound of voices echo from right outside his office door. 

Your body jerks under him at the sudden noise, but Zayne doesn’t stop. If anything, he doubles down, pressing his slick fingers harder against your clit, wrenching another broken sob from your throat, muffled by the tie still shoved between your lips.

“Don’t you dare,” he whispers, voice low, dangerous. His free hand tightens around his cock, stroking faster, more desperate, more sloppy than you’ve ever seen him. The sight alone has your walls clenching down around nothing, a fresh wave of arousal making a mess of his desk and the scattered papers on top. 

The voices outside the door grow louder, and Zayne’s entire body tenses. Not with fear. Not with hesitation. But something that he thinks might ruin him forever. 

“I should stop,” he murmurs, though his fingers never leave you, still rubbing circles into your overstimulated clit, dragging you higher, forcing you to ride that unbearable edge of pleasure. His teeth clench, brows furrowed as his pace on his own cock stutters, his restraint cracking with every second that passes. “I really should stop.”

You whimper, body trembling beneath him, a plea barely audible around the silk in your mouth.

“But you love this, don’t you?” His voice drops, rasping, guttural. “You love making me a mess, love knowing that the only thing keeping us from getting caught is how good you are for me.”

Zayne never talks like this, but god, now you wish he’d never stop. His mere voice is enough to send you over the edge once again. Your moan is strangled, raw, hips lifting weakly into his touch despite the overstimulation.

The door handle rattles.

Zayne snaps, one arm shooting out as ice surrounds the handle, spears of ice crawling over the wooden frame of the door, across the tiled floor as he loses control. 

He barely spares it a glance. Pulling the tie from your mouth, Zayne immediately replaces it with his lips, swallowing your gasp as he shoves two fingers back inside you, curling them deep, his strokes ruthless, relentless. His other hand leaves his cock only long enough to drag you forward, forcing your legs around his waist, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance as he moans into your mouth.

"Zayne, your Evol—"

"Don’t worry about me," he hums, kissing you one more time before his gaze drops, watching where the two of you meet. “You’ve done more than enough for me. You’ve always been enough for me.” And he pushes in inch by inch, stretching you open around his thick length, your body still pulsing and greedy from your last orgasm.

Zayne exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against yours as he stills, buried inside you. His fingers flex against your waist, grounding himself, keeping himself from completely unraveling.

 “Breathe,” he murmurs, voice back to the soft, low tone you know so well, the urgency melting into something reverent. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then another to your jaw, as if to soothe you through the stretch. “You’re perfect.”

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently as you grind upward, coaxing him into going faster, into actually fucking you. 

Zayne groans, his control fraying as he clutches you tighter, nose brushing against yours. “You're going to be the death of me,” he whispers, lips ghosting yours in a kiss, the intimacy making your heart clench.

You can still hear muffled voices beyond the door, a stark reminder of the risk, of how dangerously close you are to being caught. But it only makes you cling to him tighter, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you whisper, “Then let me take care of you, Doctor.”

Rahhh I feel like a broken record saying this, but I just, ugh. Satoru is just such a yearner. Masks himself with smiles, pretending there’s nothing behind those pretty eyes. But really, he craves love. Craves it so deeply that the very act of being loved repulses him. It’s too much. He simply doesn't know what to do with it.

I just think Satoru in love is a mess, not in the way people expect. He’s not stammering over his words, not showing up at your door with hundreds of roses. He doesn’t have time for grand gestures like that.

He’s the type to stare at his phone longer than he should, the screen time stacking up in seconds. Just scrolling through your Instagram, pausing on that photo you always say you’re going to delete. He really wishes you wouldn’t because while you see imperfection, he sees someone who might as well have hung up the stars.

He’s the type to hover over his keyboard, those slender fingers typing and deleting the same message five times, wondering what would be too much. Would a heart emoji scare you off? Do you actually care about what he ate today?

Kicking his feet under the blankets, a few roll-arounds, when you text him “Goodnight” or “Good morning.” He bites down on a smile when you call first, just to tell him about a report or how your students are doing.

The Satoru with a crush: waking up earlier than necessary, neglecting the sleep his body begs for just to see if you’re online. If that typing bubble will pop up. If maybe - just maybe - you’re retyping too. If you crave him, even a fraction of the way he yearns for you.

He’s brushing his teeth at 7 a.m., frustrated, because you still haven’t texted. It’s only been two hours but it feels like forever. A foamy grin takes over his face when he sees the typing bubble. He checks, read receipts off. Just in case. He can't be caught looking desperate. Can't break down that wall just yet. Using his ego as a barrier to the real him.

Then the chime. Your message. Choking on toothpaste. Satoru has to pace his apartment like an idiot to calm down. A little circle around the coffee table, just to burn off the nerves. The soft patter of his giddy footsteps. Then he finally types back, “Good morning :)", though what he wants to say is “Did you sleep well?” or “Did you dream of me?”

And then, his smile falters. Do you think of him as Satoru, or as Gojo Satoru? Because there’s a difference. To mask the loneliness, swallowing the negative thoughts, he imagines you still curled up in bed, cheek smooshed into your pillow. Wonders how warm you’d be. If he were there, would you two stay wrapped up for an extra hour? Would you press a sleepy kiss to his cheek? Would you peck his face as many times as he would to yours?

When the silly little crush turns into something more - when it becomes a relationship.

Your mug sits next to his in the cabinet now. You brush your teeth together in the mornings. A playful nudge here and there. Giggling when he tries (and fails) to perfect an omelet. He makes character bentos for you on his day off, baby-blues crinkling with every smile.

And still - Satoru tries to play it cool. He wants to love you like a dog loves its favorite person, unconditionally, shamelessly, wholly. He wants to claim you as his and forget the rest of the world.

But he’s scared.

Scared that if he reaches too far, you won’t be there in the morning. That he’ll lose the luxury of placing his toothbrush next to yours. That there won’t be any more grocery trips where you both pause in the sweets aisle for far too long.

Scared you’ll pull away the second he starts reaching for miles instead of inches.

So he smiles. He jokes. Keeps the Gojo Satoru mask on. Because love is terrifying. It’s carving out your heart and handing it to someone, hoping they don’t drop it.

The first argument starts over something stupid. Most do. But it spirals. You don’t understand why he’s distant. Why he won’t let you all the way in. And he doesn’t know how to tell you that he’s terrified.

Because loving you means showing you the sharpest parts of himself. The ones buried behind smug grins and careless jokes. And he’s not sure you’ll still love him once you see them.

So he says something awful.

“Let’s break up.”

The words leave him in shards, clawing their way out of his throat. Words he doesn’t mean. A defense mechanism that works too well.

You freeze. He sees it in your eyes, shock, then hurt, then that dreadful look like you’re already pulling away.

And maybe… maybe that’s what he wants.

Because if he ends it now, if he’s the one who walks away, then he doesn’t have to know what it feels like to lose you for real. Doesn’t have to picture your body in a morgue because he couldn’t save you. Doesn’t have to imagine the world moving on without you in it.

It’s easier this way. That’s what he keeps telling himself.

Even as he stares at that imperfect photo of you still sitting on your Instagram while all the imperfect ones of you together are long gone. Scrubbed clean, no more cheeky smiles. No more subtle photos of you both on dates. As if pretending you never happened will make it hurt less. But it doesn’t. He’s left behind with nothing but the silence. And the tears that fall quietly onto the screen, threatening to like that photo from ages ago.

You forgot your toothbrush. But you left your house key.

His bed is still cold.

And god, he wishes you’d just send one more text.

Hugs Are Mandatory

PAIRING: clingy!lads men x gn!non-mc!reader

SYNOPSIS: Lately, your boyfriend had become impossibly dramatic—and hopelessly clingy. What's the reason for that?

A/N: I feel like my writing has really downgraded lately, so I felt like writing whatever I had in mind instead of doing a request ;p

Xavier

It wasn’t unusual for Xavier to cling to you, especially when he was sleepy—his heavy eyelids fluttering, the warmth of your scent lulling him into drowsiness as he melted into your embrace.

But lately? He had reached a whole new level of attachment. It was as if you were the very air he breathed, as though spending even a moment apart would drain him of life itself.

You were in the kitchen, making hot chocolate for your video game night, and yet—even now—he was right behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. The soft tickle of his breath against your skin sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Xavi…” You chuckled, the amusement in your tone obvious. “You could just wait on the couch, you know.”

“I’d much rather wait for you here,” he murmured, his voice honeyed and low, punctuated by a lingering kiss against your neck.

You exhaled, shaking your head in mock exasperation before turning to face him. His big, pleading eyes locked onto yours, his lower lip jutted out in a dramatic pout. And despite the sheer closeness between you, he still looked like he wanted more.

“What’s up with you and this sudden clinginess?” you asked, raising a curious brow, though your voice was tinged with amusement.

For a moment, he simply hummed, rubbing his cheek against yours like an oversized cat. You frowned. Now that you thought about it, Xavier did have some very cat-like tendencies.

But then… the silence stretched. Suspiciously so.

“Xavier.” Your tone sharpened slightly, prompting him to finally meet your gaze. That’s when you saw it—guilt. Clear as day. He looked like a scolded puppy.

“I… may have accidentally stained your favorite hoodie,” he admitted sheepishly. “With… curry.”

You blinked. Processing.

Then, in the calmest, most serious tone you could muster, you said, “Xavier, I suggest you start running.”

His eyes flickered with panic, scanning your face for any sign of mercy. There was none.

And so, he listened. He turned on his heel, ready to make his grand escape—but it was already too late. You leapt onto his back, tugging at his hair (just enough to make him suffer, not enough to really hurt him).

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU BETRAYED ME LIKE THIS!” you howled, whining dramatically as you clung to him.

“OW! OW—HEY—OWWW!” He yelped, flailing helplessly under your relentless assault. “I’M SORRY!”

...

After an intense battle, you sat victorious, hair disheveled, while Xavier nursed his wounds—namely, the light bite marks on his arms and his sore neck.

“Keep going,” you instructed, arms crossed as you watched him scribble an apology letter, his wrist cramping from the thousand-word essay you’d demanded as retribution.

He groaned, rubbing his aching hand. “I swear my love for you is being tested right now.”

Guess his clinginess wasn’t entirely unprovoked, after all.

Zayne

You stared at your boyfriend, bewildered, as he clung to you with a desperate intensity—his face buried in your chest, arms wrapped around you like he feared you might vanish. Zayne had his moments, always loved keeping you close, but this? This was… unusual. And incredibly distracting, too, as you felt the warm brush of his breath against your skin while you tried, in vain, to focus on your book.

“Aww, babe, did something happen?” You set the book aside, fingers threading through his hair in slow, soothing strokes.

He let out a deep sigh, his grip tightening instead of answering. The silence was enough to make worry creep up your spine.

Gently, you cupped his cheeks and tilted his face up toward you, only to be met with those eyes—big, soft, and guilt-ridden. Damn those puppy eyes.

“Zayne…” You narrowed your gaze, testing the waters.

His response? To promptly bury his face back in your chest, as if hiding from the inevitable.

Your fingers stilled in his hair. “Spill.”

For a moment, he hesitated. Then, in a voice lower than usual—like he was about to confess a mortal sin—he muttered, “Darling… You do know how much I adore you, don’t you?”

Your brow arched. Suspicion bloomed.

And then, it clicked.

“No. You didn’t.” Your voice teetered on the edge of disbelief.

Zayne sighed. “…I’m afraid I did.”

The limited-edition chocolate. The one your friend had brought from abroad. The one you had been saving for a special occasion.

Oh. Oh, he was dead.

"Zayne," you began, tone deceptively calm, "as much as I love you, I feel like I’m about to kill you right now.”

Finally, he had the decency to sit up, meeting your gaze with an expression that was somehow both stoic and dramatically sorrowful.

“I apologize…” he murmured, as if this was some tragic accident. “I’m not even sure how it happened. One moment, it was in the pantry and then… gone.”

You inhaled sharply. “AGAIN?”

And now?

Zayne sat in front of you, watching—suffering—as you mercilessly devoured all his favorite sweets. Every last thing he was craving, even the rare, limited-edition ones he had been saving.

You held up a delicate macaron, twirling it between your fingers. His eyes lit up, lips parting instinctively, hope flickering in his expression.

“Oh, I bet you’d love a bite, huh?” you mused, bringing it just close enough to tease him.

His mouth barely opened before—poof!—the macaron disappeared. Straight into your mouth.

You smirked. “But traitors don’t deserve sweets.”

Zayne let out a betrayed sigh, slumping back dramatically. As if things weren’t bad enough, you had also sentenced him to the ultimate punishment: a one-week kiss ban.

And for a man who craved your affection like air, that? That was the cruelest torture of all.

Rafayel

Rafayel was clinging to you—as per usual. His body shifted restlessly as he tried to find the perfect spot on your lap, his head nestled against your thighs, his face nuzzling into them like a needy cat.

But something was… off.

Normally, he'd be whining about how comfy you were, or dramatically declaring that he could stay like this forever. But right now? He was unusually quiet. And that immediately set off alarms in your head.

"Raf," you murmured, brushing stray strands of hair from his face, fingers gently tracing his cheek. "Is something bothering you?"

He blinked up at you, and that was when you saw it.

The guilt.

His big, guilty eyes—a look you knew all too well—sent a shiver of suspicion down your spine.

And then, in a deep, tragic sigh, he began.

"Cutie…" He stroked your thighs, voice dripping with exaggerated sorrow. "Is your love unconditional? Would you still love me, even if I committed the worst of crimes?"

Your stomach dropped.

"Rafayel." His full name left your lips like a warning, making him tense. His expression somehow grew even guiltier.

"What did you do?" Your voice was calm—too calm. Your eye twitched slightly.

He hesitated. Then, finally, he exhaled and averted his gaze.

"I... I didn’t mean to," he mumbled. "It just kind of happened..."

Your arms folded. "Go on."

He swallowed.

"I—" He sighed again, looking at you like a man on death row. "I watched the new episode of Love Island without you."

Silence.

The betrayal.

Your breath caught in your throat. "You did what?!"

The sheer audacity. The disrespect. The ultimate relationship crime.

"How could you do this to me?!" you gasped, yanking your legs out from under him so fast that his head hit the couch with a dull thud.

"Ow—!" He winced, sitting up in a panic. His hands grasped yours in desperation. "Wait, don’t do anything drastic! I didn't mean—"

"It's too late now..." You freed your hands from his grip with a slow, deliberate motion.

He stilled.

You both knew what that meant.

...

"OW! Cutie, have mercy—!" Rafayel hissed, thrashing slightly beneath you.

You straddled him with a deadly smirk, tweezers in hand, plucking his body hair with ruthless precision. A sharp yank—his armpit. Another—his stomach. Then his leg. He flinched every time, eyes wild with regret.

"This is cruel!" he whined. "This is inhumane!"

"You did this to yourself." You gave him a faux-sympathetic smile, reaching for his arm next.

Another pluck. Another wince.

Rafayel groaned, flopping back dramatically. "Never again…" he muttered.

You leaned in, whispering in his ear with a wicked grin.

"That's what they all say."

Sylus

You sat comfortably on Sylus’s lap, his arms wrapped around you with a vice-like grip, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Cuddling like this was nothing new—Sylus lived for moments like these—but tonight, there was a different edge to it. A certain... desperation.

His fingers pressed into your back as if to mold you against him, his body tensed yet unwilling to let go.

“What’s got you squeezing me so tight, Sy?” you teased, dragging your fingers along his spine, relishing the way he shivered under your touch.

“Perhaps I just like having you close.” His voice was smooth—too smooth. Normally, the words would’ve made you melt, but there was something in his tone. A certain something you knew all too well.

You stilled. “...Did you do it again?”

The moment the words left your lips, his hold on you tightened.

“…Have I mentioned how absolutely stunning you look today?” He cooed, his lips brushing your skin. Classic. His go-to distraction tactic.

“Nice try,” you deadpanned. “Sylus. Did you, or did you not?”

He sighed, dramatically, like he was the victim here. “He was getting too touchy.”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Sylus, you’re going to give the poor guy a heart attack!”

The guy—as in your coworker. The one Sylus had sworn up and down was too friendly with you. The one he had, on multiple occasions, subtly and not-so-subtly terrified to the brink of quitting.

“You don’t need that job,” he muttered, pressing his lips against your shoulder as if that would erase his sins.

You rolled your eyes. “You know what that means.”

He went silent.

You both knew what that meant.

...

"Must I really do this?” Sylus sighed, standing stiffly in front of your workplace like he was being sent to the gallows.

“Yes,” you said firmly. “You will apologize. Or no cuddles and kisses for a week.”

At that, his eye twitched. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.” You smirked, sticking your tongue out at him, watching as his lips quirked into the smallest of smiles before he returned to his signature look of disgusted annoyance.

Just then, the door to the building swung open, and there he was—your coworker. Upon spotting you, he smiled… but then his gaze shifted.

And the second he laid eyes on Sylus?

He yelped and bolted in the opposite direction.

You blinked. “Did he just—”

You turned to Sylus. He was smirking. Smug. As. Hell.

“How am I supposed to ‘apologize’ now, sweetie?” he mused, feigning innocence, though the satisfied glint in his eyes betrayed him.

What a smug, infuriating bastard.

Caleb

Caleb was glued to you—more than usual. His arms wrapped around your waist like a lifeline, his face buried in your shoulder as he let out a deep, dramatic sigh. You barely moved an inch before he was pulling you back in, holding you tighter.

Now, Caleb was always affectionate, but this? This was next-level.

“…Okay, what did you do?” you asked suspiciously, stopping your fingers from running through his hair.

He stiffened.

“What?” He forced out a laugh, lifting his head to look at you with far too much innocence. “Can’t a guy just be madly in love with his gorgeous partner?”

You squinted.

“Caleb.”

“…Yes, my love?”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

He hesitated. His eyes darted to the side. Then—a guilty smile.

Your stomach dropped.

“I may have tripped and somehow landed on your bed, and somehow the diary was open, and somehow my eyes just happened to read the page about how much you love my arms—”

“CALEB.” You pushed him away (he immediately latched back on). “You read my diary?!”

“Hey, hey, don’t be mad!” He tightened his hold, nuzzling into your neck. “I love you even more now! You think I’m devastatingly handsome, and I quote—”

You groaned. “Caleb, you absolute menace—!”

“You wrote a whole paragraph about my voice, pipsqueak” He grinned, shameless. “I didn’t even know you paid attention to—”

“You’re dead to me.”

"Noooo!" He practically climbed into your lap, pulling your arms around him like you had to hold him. “You can’t be mad at me! I am your devastatingly handsome boyfriend, after all—”

"You know what this means." You cut him off, smirking.

"You’re my slave for a whole week."

Caleb gaped at you. “That’s cruel.”

"You deserve it."

"But—"

"You will be fetching me snacks, running my baths, giving me foot rubs, carrying my bag—"

“This is inhumane.”

"Oh, I’m not done." You grinned wickedly. "You will also cook me breakfast every morning, write me a love letter every night, carry me whenever I want, and—oh, this is my favorite part—you will officially be my personal hype man. If I so much as walk into a room, you will dramatically announce my presence and remind everyone that I’m the most beautiful person alive."

Caleb’s jaw dropped.

"You’re insane."

"You read my diary."

"...Fair."

"Oh, and one more thing," you added. "You're now on kiss restriction for three days."

His entire world shattered. "WHAT?!"

"That's right." You tapped his nose condescendingly. "No kisses. No cuddles unless I initiate them. No sweet-talking your way out of this, Mr. Snoops-Through-My-Diary."

He groaned, flopping back onto the couch. "I regret everything."

"You should." You smirked, patting his cheek.

But deep down, you knew Caleb was about to be the most over-the-top servant in history. And honestly? You were so ready for it.

Just a lil smut drabble ;P

List of characters I had in mind while writing this will be at the bottom

NOT PROOFREAD!!

——————

Instantly getting wet for a cute guy who will look at you with his adorably puppy eyes when he’s pent up and really just wants to pound you until you can’t walk anymore.

“Pleaseeeee baby? Just one round, I promise.”

“My love, I’m begging you. I need you so bad right now….”

Denying him only makes him hornier as his cock strains against the confines of his pants. You can see a wet, dark spot growing on his crotch from all the pre leaking from his oh-so-sensitive tip.

He’d start to rock himself against your backside while still fully clothed. As if that made a difference though, you could still easily feel the outline of his dick pressing up against your ass. Ugh and if you’re wearing a skirt he would most definitely just lift it up to grind against your panties, which were slowly growing dark with your wetness as well.

“See, baby? You’re so needy for me too…please, please let me fuck you. I need it so bad..”

The second you nod your head, he’s pushing your panties to the side— no, he’s ripping them off of your body and letting the torn fabric fall to the ground as he pulls his dick out and without warning slams himself into your warm and sticky cunt. His hips start snapping against yours without rhythm, his body moving purely on instinct.

“Please tell me you’re on the pill, baby. Wanna cum inside of you soooo bad…”

“You’re not? Oh….well can I cum inside anyways? You’d look so cute all round and full with my babies~”

It doesn’t take much longer before he’s a pussy-drunk mess, sucking on your neck and singing your praises as he rapidly approaches his climax. The knot building in your stomach wasn’t far off from snapping either, and he could feel it. Your wet, gummy walls were clenching down on him, making it hard for him to hold back from cumming before you.

“Oh baby don’t clench down on me like that or I really am gonna– f-fuck! I’m cumming baby, ‘m cumming–”

Hot ropes of his thick semen paint your walls white as you gush on his dick. He goes limp over your shoulder and you can feel his heart pounding in his chest against your back. Moments later, before you can even catch your breath, you feel him getting hard inside you again.

“‘M sorry baby, but the thought of you not being on the pill….I need to cum inside of you again. I need to breed you.”

He was going to make sure that night ended with you impregnated with his child.

——————

Characters:

CALEB & maybe Xavier (LaDS), Kise R. & Teppei K. (KnB), Midoriya I. (MHA), Zenitsu A. (KnY), Choso & Itadori Y. (JJK)

Jealousy, Jealousy

This was inspired by the Caleb art in the banner by @baobei-bu please love on ALL their art!! Their JJK/LADS art is PEAK

Pairings- Yandere! Caleb x F!reader

Warnings- PWP pretty much, a smut oneshot- HEAVY yandere Caleb, mating press, cum play, oral (f recieiving) tummy bulges, cervix hitting, panty stealing, fingering, overstim, he calls you pip squeak LMAO, JEALOUS obsessed Caleb

My first time for Caleb hehe, rbs/comments appreciated if you enjoyy

"Who is that, Pip squeak?" Caleb murmurs that question with a little smile, as you tense just a bit, feeling your cheeks heating up under his scrutiny, sipping on the straw of your milkshake, letting the sweetness hit your tongue. The two of you have been gaming the day away, taking just a little break in the kitchen now

"It's a... friend." That's what Xavier was really, your sweet friend, who is currently sending you heart emojis.

"Oh, a friend huh? Why so secretive then?" He teases, tapping your nose and just being far... far too close. You shouldn't think so many things about him like this, should you? But you can't help but like his cologne a little too much, like just how his brown locks were falling over his forehead just so, how you can see so much of his muscles flexing in what he wore.

"Just a friend." Your little smile drives him insane, he outwardly laughs, but he can't stop thinking of who's been with you while he's been away, has anyone touched you? When you're meant to be his.

"Let me see then." He yanks your phone high, dark violet eyes flashing for a moment, turning as you sputter and he scrolls through your last messages. "And who is Sylus... Rafael and... Dr. Zayne, I know him, and-"

"Give me my phone back, jerk!" You jump for it, but Caleb is stupid tall, holding it up and feigning a smile he really doesn't feel like giving right now, thoughts racing.

Were you with somebody?

That would never do.

Perhaps he's been gone too long, and you've found someone, but that wouldn't last long when you'd be his. Caleb hands you it finally, laughing a bit as he pats your head. "Relax, Pip Squeak, I was just messing with ya. So cute when you're angry."

"Oh, whatever. Back to the game?" He nods, watching as your bouncy ass sways in whatever excuse for a shorts those were, furious if anyone has ever gotten to see you like this.

You're sitting up on the couch now, legs spread so he sees just a hint of your perfect pussy that lace was hugging, his throat goes dry when you hand him the controller. He smiles with ease, sitting on the floor, hoisting your thighs around his shoulders then, and you pause, faltering just a bit, breath caught in your throat. It should be casual. You two have gamed close forever, but he's so close to your heat, your thighs brushing against his hot skin. Just a white tank top and your shorts separating you both.

"You blushed really hard when I mentioned Sylus huh?" He asks now, as he moves the controllers, and you gulp just a bit, fidgeting some.

"No... imagining things."

"You think he's hot."

You roll your eyes at him, shifting forward as you tilt the controller, slashing your sword and concentrating, the tips of your toes touching his lap. Just that is enough to make Caleb ache and throb, hard cock pulsing, he bites back a moan, you seem too entrapped in the game to notice what your foot is brushing on.

"He's hot, sure. Why, do you... find anyone hot?" Caleb glares down at the controller now.

"Just one girl." You bite your lip, concentrated fully, as he rests a head on your thigh. Hot breath against it making your leg twitch, cunt already soaking. You can't feel this way, you two are just too close... right? How can you be jealous?

"Oh?" Your weak voice just makes Caleb's cock leak precum, he can feel how hot you are behind his neck, he turns his head then, to catch you looking down at him.

"Do you care if I like someone Pip Squeak?"

"N-no..."

"Hmm... hah! Got you!" Caleb's killed your character, making you huff. Laying back some on the couch, you gasp when he turns around, face at level with your cunt, where he sees your damp spot right on your shorts. "Oh no, honey... did you spill something?"

"Huh?" You feel your body react, nipples pressing against your thin top at his proximity, vivid thoughts of far, far too many things working through your heated mind.

"Right here..." he brushes his thumb against the damp sticky arousal, eliciting a cry that makes him goddamn feral. "Can't answer me honey?"

"Caleb I'm... so sorry I..."

"This from me. Or from one of them?" His casual question is laced with something dark, pressing on the spot again, wondering just how many men he'd have to take out, so his sweet girl is all his. "Should I get these off you? Since you're making them so messy?"

"I.... y-you-" Caleb has slipped your shorts off your thighs, your tummy clenches when he clicks his tongue. Now he kisses your inner thigh, fingers running along your swollen lips, breath ghosting too close to your cunt.

"These are ruined too, tsk. Something wrong, pip squeak?" You shake your head, watching as Caleb peels those panties off you, and he has to tuck them in his pocket, thankful your eyes are shut, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks. He needs a fresh pair anyway, you're too meticulous about your laundry and he doesn't get many.

The amount of times he's cum inhaling your panties, drunk off them is insane, even before he left you, when he'd visit on breaks he'd take them, licking any of you up. Sometimes he would jerk off inside them, imagining putting them on you. Making you wear them full of his load as punishment for making him so insane. But nothing prepared him for seeing your glistening cunt, clear trails breaking off, you're so wet you were stuck to those lacy panties clearly.

"Caleb-ah!" He laps you up now, just a stripe up your slit, making your hands entangle in sof thrown hair, as those deep violet eyes look up at you. Dilated, insane, a smirk on his lips.

"Tell me none of them tasted you. Had you."

"What do you mean-"

"Tell me no one touched what's mine."

"You've been gone a long time... you think I just what, wait here, touch myself?" You're shaking as you speak.

"Do you?" You hesitate. "Answer me. Maybe I'll let you cum."

"Let me?" He presses a kiss on your clit now parting your folds and groaning as arousal pools out of your little hole. "Mnh. Fuck... what are we..."

"Am I competing? I'm very competitive you know, pip squeak. I will have to make you forget anything but me then." That's when he spreads your pretty pussy, moaning, he's seen you of course before here and there, glimpses of you naked, but now your perfect cunt is right in his face. He's burying his face against you, nose hitting that clit as his tongue swipes in.

"Oh my god." You shouldn't be like this, you shouldn't be spreading your thighs wider, letting him fuck his tongue in and out of your slick, gummy walls, the noises of his soft whines and slurps echoing in your apartment. His taste buds explore every each that long tongue can reach, you're losing it every moment, those eyes so dark with lust they look black.

He'll make you forget anything.

"That's it, you wanna cum f'me, huh? Pretty girl, all mine." You're struggling to compute his words, to even function, eyes rolling back when he flicks the tip of his tongue on that clit, smile not hitting his insane yes. "Are you?"

"This is crazy, what are we doing... you... I... ngh!" Two fingers slip right inside your hole now, which flutters around the thick, long digits, making your whines even louder as he leans up, his other hand gripping you by your throat, lips so close.

How have you not kissed but he's devoured your pussy?

"You belong to me, only me, can you not see? All this time..." He's desperately scissoring fingers in and out, lashes low over his eyes as he breathes against your bitten lips. "Oh listen, she can talk for you I guess, so slutty for me. Just me, huh?"

You're just arching your hips, a sweet cry from your lips, ones he can imagine wrapped around his cock, while he squeezes your delicate neck harder, hand overtaking your throat. You can merely whimper in response, nodding just a bit, as you're closer and closer, only for him to yank his fingers out, making you whine, aching to be filled by them again.

"Caleb, please." You're crying now, tears running down your cheeks, making you look so fucking pretty to him, igniting something that snaps as he watches them fall glistening down your face.

"Please what, ya need something?" He's squeezing harder, fingers brushing around your soaking entrance, just barely pressing the tip of his finger inside, while you're pressed back against the couch, breasts heaving. "Tell me what you need, don't you know I'll take care of you?"

"In me. Please- ah!" You're getting fuzzy when he slips those long fingers back in your cunt, exhaling as he watches you, curling them just so with filthy squelching noises echoing. "Mnh!"

"This all f'me, huh? All me?" His demanding question barely resonates when you're cumming all over his fingers now, pulsing and gushing, while your own hand grips his thin white tank, pulling him closer. Your eyes roll back, he watches you avidly, every fucking expression while he feels you pulsing on his digits. "You didn't answer me, pretty, that won't do."

He pouts when he pulls his fingers out again, releasing your throat right before you nearly faint, cunt still pulsing. You try to gather yourself, when he's slipping those fingers in his mouth, moaning while he sucks all your arousal off them. He's ripped your top off, moaning as he sees your tits gently bounce out, his own dog tags dangling right between the two of them.

"Look who's right by your heart, hmm?" He presses the cool metal to your lips now, prompting you to kiss them, as he smiles so sweetly, like he hadn't just fucked your head up and tripped you. "Do you wear this every day?"

"Yes."

"Every night?"

"Yes." Your answer ends him, when he picks you up like you're nothing, dragging you right to the plush, soft rug beneath you both, hovering over you, his new tags dangling, as your fingers slip up over his strong chest, his eyes glinting with something you can't quite describe, the situation overwhelming your senses.

"I need to take better care of you, if you feel you need all these 'friends' then I'm not doing my job. I should be more than enough for you." He's leaned up, pulling up his shirt just a bit, revealing rippling abs that you've looked at far too often. "Is that it, I didn't take care of you good enough?"

"No, Caleb you always take care of me. I just... we..." Your thoughts trail off when he's slipped down his sweats, and you see his cock, so long and thick you're unsure you could take it, already oozing precum out of his reddened tip.

"Cat got your tongue, pip squeak? Keep talking, I'm listening, I always listen don't I?" He's leaned over you with one strong arm, yanking your thighs apart further, when you feel his length against your inner thigh, hot and heavy, precum sticking to you, as he cups your face so gently. "I'll listen to every moan, every whisper, so I learn everything your pretty, perfect body likes."

"Oh my god." He's brushing his tip against your engorged clit now, smiling down at you, at how pretty you are on this rug beneath him, your lashes fluttering.

"You work too hard, you need to be massaged everywhere. How could I not see this?" He's shoved his cock so deep inside you then you scream out, and he moans, feeling the stretch, of so many fucking inches. "Look how greedy, she's trying to take him all. Ahh, did you miss me this much?"

You're unable to respond to anything when he's shoved his cock so deep you're stuffed full, whimpering out as your walls struggle to stretch for him, and he's just a breath over you, lips drinking up yours then, finally kissing you after so long, before he is pulling back and shoving so deep he hits your cervix. You're sobbing it feels so fucking good, all while he can't rip his eyes off your face, the dark violet depths swirling.

"Waited so long for this, god don't you know?" He's mumbling now, lost in you, pulling back and smirking as he watches it, his lengthy cock getting sucked inside your too small hole, and the bulge in your tummy. "Look, I hit so fucking deep, don't I?" He grips your chin, shoving your head down so you see it, blushing furious.

"I... that's... s-so big I..." He's moaning as he watches it, his cock making that bulge as he goes achingly slow.

"Look at me fill you, fuck I should keep filling you too, until you can't even think. I need your brain shut off, and focused on me, yeah?" You're already fucked out and stupid, you can only stare at the bulge and blush, when he thrusts his hips with a snap, having you drooling all over his cock. "Can't think of other men now, can you?"

You can't think of a fucking thing, including what's happening, as Caleb begins fucking you harder, faster, delicately kissing your lips like he's making love, as his heavy balls slap your ass with every single filthy fucking thrust. He's whispering your name, until he's got you firm in a mating press, spitting down right on your clit and moaning at the sight.

Folded in half, god you feel so small under him, while his babbling hits your incoherent brain, the lewd slapping of his skin and how wet you are filling the living room. "Only me, I need it to only be me, me inside you, me everywhere."

"Caleb- you... f-fuck!" He's cupping your face as he folds you in that mating press, grinning feral, something unleashed that's damn near scary, but you just want more, nails pressing crescent moons against his biceps.

"Only me. Only me. Mine. Mine. Mine." He's huffing those words as you cum all around his cock, pausing him briefly, feeling your aftershocks grip him, your cunt so messy she's dripping down his balls, down to the rug, making the sounds even louder, the squishing and clicking. "I know, honey, I know, you want me to cum inside, huh?"

"Please. Please." He's smiling, you're being so good for him, and who is he to ever deny his pretty girl anything.

"I'll give you anythign you ask for, don't worry. I'll fill you so good, so, so good, yeah- ha fuck you- ah..." He's stuttering now, faster and harder, his eyes flashing then. "Only me, say it."

"Only y-you... ah- ngh!" You're screaming when he's fucking you so hard it hurts, leaned up to press the backs of your thighs.

"That's it, gonna forget them all, aren't you? Anyone."

"F-forget." Your weak response lets him lose his mind, big hands bruising, his dog tags swinging against your face when he pounds your cunt so hard, cumming so much, with his head thrown back, groaning so loud until it turns into a weak cry, as his hot gooey load coats your pussy everywhere.

"That's it, fuckin perfect pussy, God my good girl, aren't you? Taking me so well." He's murmuring, easing as you're cumming just from him coating your walls, he lets your thighs fall, moaning and kissing you, desperate and hungry. "You alright, pip squeak? Was it too much?"

"It was a lot I..." He's laughing now, softly, pulling back and out, watching the mess of creamy cum pouring down all over, groaning at the sight, you flush as you look down, seeing it all.

"You could have told me you needed more, don't you know how long I've waited for this? I wanted to be your first though, honey, tsk..." He's fingering the cum, making you jerk, so sensitive now, his lips quirking up. "Know how many times I've stroked it? Picturing just this, filling you up?"

"Y-you did?" He's shoving that cum deep, you grip his wrist, gasping now. "Caleb!"

"You're wasting it, that just won't do, I need you to be a good girl." His husky whisper along with those rough fingers makes you cry out.

"Sensitive!"

"You can take more, can't you?" He's shoving cum back in your eager whole, moaning at the sight, his cock already standing back at attention. "I think I know what I need to do, so you never call any of these 'friends' again."

"What?" Your eyes roll back when he's curling his fingers again, hovering over you and grinning, his toned body glistening with a sheen of sweat.

"I'll keep filling you, until you're dripping me constantly." Caleb's got you in your bed next, lapping his own cum right out of your cunt, taste buds dragging in every flavor of the two of you, having you cum over and over, until you're stupid. "Look, so fucked out, aww. You're drooling pip squeak, lemme get that."

He's swiping at your chin, before he's sucking your clit in his mouth again, and you're losing sense of everything, he's fucking you again, bent over, then again, on your stomach, so many loads inside you you're bloated and full, too full. You pass out on him soon, he sighs as he looks at you, so pretty as always in your sleep.

"Ah, pip squeak, we'll have to work on that stamina." He's cleaned you all up, putting your favorite pajamas on you, while you're lightly snoring, clearly he'd been a little too much.

Caleb had waited for years and years after all, for just this moment.

"Sweet dreams, my love. Future wife." He's laughing softly, you don't know just all his plans yet. He goes towards the kitchen to down some water, still naked in your apartment, cock gently swaying when he grabs his sweats, your panties still tucked in his pocket. He slips them on, frowning as he sees your phone light up, texts from Zayne and Sylus.

That just won't do.

He unlocks your phone with ease, it's his birthday of course, you love him even if you don't know how much yet. No worries. Caleb deletes every contact and message, keeping only him, because that's all you'll need now! You won't even be in this apartment soon, he can already picture you at his place, constantly having his babies.

He smiles as he holds you against him that night, but even after fucking you so deep, so much, just seeing you sleeping makes him hard again, and he has to stroke his aching cock just looking at you, waiting for you to wake up.

lmk if you want more Caleb and his freaky ass lol <3

tags- @ember-stars @luvleixo @sickleddreamer @ravenbc @honeymoonfleur @mcdepressed290 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @valleydoli perm- @alt--er--love @indiewritesxoxo @nanasukii28 @cuntphoric @loafteaw @n1vi @miizuzu @beachaddict48 @honeybunnnnie @re-tired-succubus @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @1brii @wise-fangirl @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @orixxxana @airandyeah @nina-from-317 @evelynxxo @naammiii @soyokosuguru @espresso1patronum @tomboy-disaster @iam-souless @lanii-i @cristy-101 @doeeyestoji  @cvixmei @mutsu422 @ivyvenus333 @g00seg1rl @suki91 @satoao-main @fairygardenprincesss @theonlyjuggernaut @huntyhuntycunty

Rafayel definitely gets love boners. You’re just minding your own business, lounging around on his huge bed in your cute lil pjs and he’ll jump your bones. When you cry and whimper against his lips, asking what’s gotten into him he’ll groan. You’re just so cute and he loves you. :((

Eyes on you

(nsfw 18+) Caleb has hidden cameras all over his house, and you've decided to put on a show for him.

2k words. posted also on ao3!

stalking, obsessive behavior, voyeurism, fem!reader.

Cameras. There were hidden cameras all over his house. There wasn't a bookcase or a mirror that didn’t have a little dot on it, almost imperceptible to the untrained eye. You only knew they were there by accident: when you took the elevator to Caleb's apartment, you bumped into an excited boy wearing a cap and uniform of a security company. 

"Are you Mr. Caleb's girlfriend? What a pleasure, I only saw you in pictures!" The boy waved, taking you by surprise. 

"No... I'm just a friend." You said a little confused, and the energetic boy explained himself.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I saw so many photos of Mr. Caleb with you the day I went to install those cameras that I thought you were dating. He also said he was installing the cameras to protect someone he liked." Cameras? What cameras? You thought, but before you could say anything, the elevator door opened and the boy jumped out. "Let me know if any of them stop working, I've installed so many I've almost lost count! Bye!" And so he disappeared down the hall.

Now you were in the living room, standing there in the middle, feeling the weight of your body and your movements, self-conscious about yourself and alert to the fact that you were being watched. Was he watching you? Now? Right now? That’s fucked up. Jail worthy. Caleb was obsessed with you and if your recent reunion hadn't already proved it, the dozen or hundreds of hidden cameras scattered around that room were proof that Caleb was sick. 

But we know the saying: When you point one finger, there are three fingers pointing back to you. More sickening than knowing that you were being watched, from every angle and probably in every room, was the fact that you were aroused. The spot between your legs throbbed, excited by the situation, by the fact that Caleb had probably seen you naked, had seen you sleeping, had seen you showering... It was so fucking wrong that, despite being against everything he had done in Skyhaven right after the reunion, you still delighted in remembering the possessiveness and obsession that melted at the words of your friend, oh, dear friend. 

In addition to the burning sensation between your legs, there was this tingle in your stomach at the thought of a man - not just any man, we're talking about Caleb - being so concerned, so devoted to you that he would kill and die for your happiness. In fact, a man who returned from the ashes and survived for you and you alone. He was no longer your sweet childhood friend... But that wasn't a bad thing. Now he became a man who had eyes (many, it seems, all over the house), only and exclusively for you. Caleb was crazy about you, and, oh shit, you loved it, which made you as crazy as he was. 

So you had two options: the first was to confront Caleb about why the fuck he had installed so many cameras in the apartment if the only person who spent time there apart from him was you; the second was to pretend you didn't know anything and carry on with your life as if everything was normal. 

You always chose the second option when it came to Caleb, ever since you were a teenager and in college. Whether it was sneaking around his room and finding your panties secretly hidden in the back of his closet, or listening to him masturbate while calling your name when he thought he was alone, you always pretended everything was normal. But ever since, and even more so now that you've found each other again, there was nothing normal about it, and no reason to carry on in the same way. After all, if he had changed, there was no reason for you to remain the same or pretend you didn't know anything. 

Then there was a third and new option: pretending not to know anything, but taking advantage of the situation to play with Caleb. Basically, make him taste his own medicine. If he wanted to see you, well, he would.

Pretending to be normal, you sat down on the sofa and took off your coat, throwing it on the coffee table. You took out your cell phone and called his number. 

"Is my favorite guest home yet?" Caleb answered in his usual animated voice. 

"Yeah. I'm bored. Still working? Is it break time?" You remembered that around this time he was most active on social media, so it should be the best time to put into action what you had in mind.

"Ah…You've always been very clever. Yes, I'm on break. I'll be home in two hours and we can do whatever you want. Don't get bored, you can turn on the TV or play a game on the console I have." Caleb was always like that, attentive to you, always wanting to please you. He wasn't much of a gamer, but because you liked games, he had bought a console with the excuse that he was getting interested in games. But now you weren't going to play with the console. You were going to play with something else. 

"Oh, no..." You put the phone on speaker and placed it on the arm of the sofa. You lifted your shirt and brought your fingers up to your bra, massaging your nipples. "I want to relax, not play." You said, holding your right breast while spreading your legs, slipping anxious fingers into your pants, brushing the fingertips against the wet panties. 

The call went silent. Bingo. He was indeed watching you, like the pervert he was. 

"Caleb?" You asked innocently, keeping your voice steady as you started moving your hand in circles, making it obvious what you were doing inside those tight pants. 

"A-ah, yes. Relax..." His breathing was heavy on the other end of the line, and suddenly you heard the sound of a zipper being opened. You had to stop yourself from moaning just then. He was starting to touch himself while watching you. "Why don't you, uh, take a shower in my bathroom?" His voice was a little choked. He was probably pumping himself slowly, staring at your live image through the screen in his office. Your pussy throbbed and suddenly your pants were too tight and too hot. You stopped stroking your own breasts and took both hands to the waistband of your trousers, sliding them down your legs. Then you took off your shirt, leaving only your panties and bra on. You positioned yourself again, this time with your legs spread wider and your heels resting on the table in front of the sofa. Your fingers returned to the soaked fabric of your panties, touching the sensitive clit through the wet cloth. 

"Yeah, I'll have a shower, I'm just finishing something up." With your middle finger, you moved your panties to one side to touch yourself directly. You bit your lip, holding back a moan, and squeezed your breast with your other hand. 

"Fuck..." he swore. 

"All right?" You replied innocently, holding back your unsteady voice as you carried on stimulating your clit at a steady pace. You wanted him to think you didn't know about the cameras, so you had to stay as normal as possible on the phone.

"Yup... I- I just hit my finger," he lied, slurring his words. 

"Caleb-" You said, catching your breath. "I miss you,"

"I miss you too." He sounded almost breathless. "I can come over now."

"No, you can't. There's work. Or is there something urgent you need to do here?" You quickly pulled down your panties, leaving them between your thighs. Then, out of the blue, you heard the unmistakable sound of a camera zooming in. He must have been eating you with his eyes, and now he wanted a closer look. You opened your folds, circling your fingers around the soaked entrance, like a pervert. You slowly moved the fingers up to your clit, stimulating yourself obscenely again. The other end of the line was completely silent, only a few low sounds and grunts were audible. "Caleb, is there something urgent you need to do here?" 

"Uh-" He stammered, and you raised your hips a little, grinding against your hand. "Fuck, fuck," he said. He didn't bother with sentences anymore. 

"What’s up with you? I'm feeling lonely and bored here. Can't you entertain me?" You teased innocently, but your legs were already shaking. 

"I can entertain you. Ah-" For a second, you heard the wet, rhythmic sound of his thrusts against his own hand. Oh my. Caleb had his pants down, sat somewhere in the FAA, and was touching himself like a teenager while he watched you. And you fucking loved it. "I can entertain you... I can be so, so good for you, if you let me." His voice was raspy and breathless. If you weren't so close to your orgasm, you might've asked him if everything was alright and put him in a tough spot again, but you couldn't even think about that. You were too caught up in your own pleasure. One hand was on your nipple under your bra, the other was all over your clit, and you arched your back on the sofa.

"I- I know you know how to entertain me. You're so good to me, always." You gasped, no longer caring that he was probably listening to the sound of your quick fingers against the wet flesh of your vagina. 

Suddenly, you heard a muffled cry on the other end of the line and several "Fuck, fuck, fuck" being whispered like a mantra at a low volume, as if he had his hand against his own mouth. He was coming. And that was all it took for the tingling at the base of your belly to explode and flow out of your pussy in an obscene and intense orgasm. 

You had just squirted all over the living room table and carpet, and had probably wet the sofa as well. The two of you were silent, only the audible gasp of your breaths as you caught your breath. 

"Caleb? Are you still there? It seems the connection was cut." You lied, still pretending you didn't know anything. He coughed and the sound of things being adjusted or stirred could be heard in the background. 

"Yeah, yeah… Probably disconnected or something." 

You got up and stood next to the sofa, looking at the mess you had left there. 

"Caleb I think I spilled...something on your sofa and carpet. Is there any cleaning cloth so I can clean it up?" You looked around. 

"NO!" Caleb almost shouted from the other side. "I mean, it's no problem, pipsqueak. You don't have to clean up. You must be tired from all this, right?" He cleared his throat. "From the trip, and everything. Just rest more, like I said, you can use my bathroom and take a shower if you want."

"Hm, where's that cleaning freak from before? Who are you and what have you done with my Caleb?" You heard a laugh on the other end of the line. 

"That's why. I'll take care of it. Please" The last word sounded as if he was begging. "I'll be home soon, and I'll be able to...entertain you, as you wish. We can, huh, relax together, too."

You laughed and picked up your cell phone, walking to the bathroom while dropping your bra in the hallway, knowing that he was watching here too. You picked up your wet panties and placed them on the bathroom door handle. In an instant, you could see a small dot hidden next to a painting, pointing directly at where you were standing. You stared directly at it, smiled and winked. 

"I'm waiting for you then, Caleb."

its been 2hrs and im still here🥲 caleb!!? caleb’s the type who kisses by biting into you from below!?! He's the type who holds the back of your head and changes the angle to make the kiss longer!? GOODNESS WHY ISNT HE REAL

୨୧ — Gojo notices everything about you, especially in moments like these when you’re curled up like a content little kitten on the couch. Your oversized sweater slipping off one shoulder as you wiggle your toes in those fuzzy socks, and how your nose scrunches adorably while focusing on catching that sneaky fish in Animal Crossing, completely lost in your virtual island paradise.

He also notices when you haven’t paid attention to him all day. And if Gojo Satoru isn't getting his daily dose of you, then something must be done.

"Mmn~, pay attention to meeeee," Gojo whined dramatically, flopping onto the couch with all the grace of an attention starved puppy. His fluffy white hair tickling your thighs as he positions himself between your legs, making you giggle despite trying to maintain concentration.

"Shhh, I'm trying to foc-eep~♡!" Your stern words dissolved into a pitiful little squeak as his strong arms suddenly wrapped around your legs, spreading them wide with playful enthusiasm. How those brilliant blue irises of his practically sparkled with a devilish glint made your heart skip as he noticed your lack of underwear, "N-Not now, Satoru, i want to play my-!!"

"Aww, but I wanna play too," he cooed, nuzzling against your inner thigh like an affectionate cat, "And look what pretty toy I found~ no panties? My adorable little player going commando? How scandalous~"

You try to close your legs when his warm breath ghosts across your exposed pussy, "S-Satoru!" you squealed, trying to keep your Switch steady even as heat flooded your cheeks, "don't you have literally anyone else to pester? L-like Nanami, he’s fun to annoy, right?"

He pouted dramatically, batting those impossibly long eyelashes, "I thought you knew?" He cocked his head at you while giving you the sweetest smile, "Pestering you is my favorite hobby. Besides..." he drags his tongue slowly up your slit, making you nearly drop your game, "Nanami could never taste this good."

Your gasp turned into a giggle that melted into a moan as he hummed happily like he's enjoying the sweetest dessert.

"Mmm, sweet as candy." he purred between licks, "Keep playing your game, sweetie. Let's see how long you can focus~"

Your fingers trembled on the controls as he devoured you like his favorite dessert, making exaggerated "nom nom" sounds that had you torn between laughing and moaning. The fishing line wobbled wildly on screen while his tongue dove inside, swirling around your gummy insides and coaxing out your sweet juices before moving up to wrap his soft lips around your swollen clit, sucking gently.

"Ahh! Y-you're m’impo-hah~ssible!" you whimpered, trying to sound angry even as your hips rocked against his face.

"Impossibly charming? Impossibly handsome? Impossibly good at making you cum?" He winked up at you, chin glistening with your juices.

The Switch clattered to the floor as you tangled your fingers in his white hair, giving up any resistance. The noises Gojo was pulling out of you were lewd enough to make a porn star blush, and that cocky- delighted chuckle only spurred you on more as it vibrated against your clit.

"Such pretty noises you make," he teases between slurps, his tongue swirling around your throbbing nub, "Much better than any game soundtrack."

"Sh-ut up, you men-ah~ce," you moaned, tugging his hair the way you knew he loved. His responding growl making your toes curl.

"Make me," he challenged, slipping two fingers inside your drooling cunt, pumping in and out at a delicious pace before curling them to hit that spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back. "We're just getting started. I've got lots more games we can play~"

His cock pressed insistently against his pants as he crawled up your body, catching your lips in a messy kiss that let you taste yourself on his playful tongue.

"Congrats~ you unlocked the next level. Ready for the next stage?" he asked, grinding his hips against yours teasingly. "I promise it's more fun than Animal Crossing~"

You knew your game would have to wait, especially since it now lies forgotten on the floor as Gojo shows you exactly why he’s your favorite distraction. After all, who needed virtual fishing when you had the strongest determined to make you cum until you were seeing stars?

Okay. Breathe, Satoru. You can do this. It's just a sleepover. Just your girlfriend. Just the person you're absolutely, irrevocably obsessed with. Who you're trying really, really hard not to scare off.

Standing in your apartment, hands shoved deep in his pockets to keep from touching everything. You’re flitting around, casual, relaxed, while he’s trying to memorize the shape of your furniture, the smell of your space, the way you hum when you walk into the kitchen.

Satoru's baby-blues locking onto the bathroom door. “I’ll, uh... shower first, if that’s okay?” like it’s the most neutral, chill request ever. It’s not. He’s sweating. His ears are pink. You nod like it’s no big deal - of course it’s no big deal - but to him? It’s a very big deal.

He gently closes the bathroom door behind him. Worries if he makes too much of a sound, he will be banned from your fine establishment. Your things are everywhere. Shampoo bottles, conditioner, your razor, a little candle half-burned on the sink, your loofah hanging from the shower knob, the loofah. He stares at it for too long.

Are we at the loofah-sharing stage? Satoru wonders, frozen in place. It’s pink. Fluffy. It looks soft, and it’s yours, and he’s fighting every stupid urge in his body. “Don’t be weird,” muttering aloud, as if he can command himself into normalcy. Still, his fingers twitch. He holds it. Briefly. Gently. Just for a second. Just to say he did.

Then comes the body wash. He squirts out the tiniest amount and rubs it between his hands like it’s precious perfume. The scent hits him and he nearly slides down the wall. You smell like this. You smell like this all the time. How is he supposed to survive? Because now he smells like you.

Pressing his face into the steam and pretends it’s your neck. He’s sick. Maybe a little pathetic. He knows it. But he’s also just so in love. What can a guy do?

When he steps out, face flushed and hair damp, he feels like a teenage boy at his crush’s house for the first time - which, in his mind, he kinda is. You’re waiting for him in pajamas, makeup wiped off, looking soft and sleepy and so perfectly you. He thinks he might pass out.

And then… brushing teeth together. Should be simple. Should be normal. But nothing is normal around you. He’s beside you at the sink, trying to play it cool while your shoulder brushes his. You hum to yourself while brushing, glancing at him through the mirror, and he nearly foams at the mouth. Or maybe that’s the toothpaste. He’s not sure.

Then he sees it.

A little blob of foam at the corner of your lips.

Something happens to him. Something dark and unspeakable. He wants to kiss it away. He wants to lick it off your mouth like a psychopath. He stares. Blinks. Shakes his head like a wet dog. Absolutely not. No. Stop it.

What’s wrong with you, scolding himself. She’s just brushing her teeth. Like a person. A very pretty, perfect person.

He spits. Rinses. Avoids eye contact. Looks at the drain. Looks at your spit down the drain. Another weird thought. One that must be suppressed.

And then it’s time. Bedtime. Final boss.

Your bed is small. Cozy. Absolutely infested with plushies. He pretends to be annoyed but he secretly loves them. Even if they are plotting to kick him off the edge of the mattress. He climbs in carefully, unsure which plush is your favorite. Unsure what you'd do if he accidentally knocked one little guy off the floor. The blanket smells like your laundry. Like home. Like the future he wants with you.

You’re already under the covers, blinking at him sleepily, smile soft and content. Wearing his shirt and not much else. The fabric rides up your thighs and he has to look away before his brain fully melts. He deserves a prize for not making a move. Deciding to lay on his back, stiff, hands folded like he’s in a coffin. He doesn’t touch you. Not even a pinky. Be good, chanting to himself. Be good. You like her. You love her. You’re not a perv, you’re not a perv.

You shift closer.

A leg brushes his. A sigh escapes your lips. Your hand settles gently on his stomach like it belongs there.

He almost cries, something between a half whimper and a wheeze leaves his throat.

Slowly, carefully, he slides his arm around your waist. You don’t flinch. Don’t pull away. You lean into him.

He swears he hears wedding bells.

You fall asleep just like that, face nestled against his shoulder, breath even and slow. And he lies there, heart racing, brain fried, blinking up at the ceiling, Satoru would be getting no sleep tonight.

His thoughts are a mess: She’s so pretty. Is she really mine? What if I kissed her forehead? No, too soon. Maybe not. God, her skin is soft. I should move in. Tomorrow. Today. Right now. No, bad. Calm down. Be cool. Be a good boyfriend. Don’t get a boner. You’re cuddling. It’s fine. Just breathe. You’re okay. This is okay. Everything is okay.

He wants to. Touch you, that is. Just your waist. Just a hand on your back. Just to pull you closer and feel your heartbeat against his chest. But he doesn’t. He stays perfectly still. He doesn’t want to push anything. You haven’t done that yet, and he’d rather die than make you uncomfortable.

Except nothing’s okay. Because he’s so in love it physically hurts. Because you’re sleeping peacefully and trusting him with this little moment, and all he wants is to stay like this forever.

How are you sleeping so peacefully while he’s over here thinking about nothing but how perfect yoh are?

MALFUNCTIONᯓ ⋆°•

moving in with caleb was bound to have its ups and downs... but did he have to modify everything in his home to keep track of you? cw: fem. reader, caleb being overprotective and borderline insane, lowkey stalking, cameras, established relationship, reader can be mc or not, #ilovecaleb, mullet caleb yummy, wrote this listening to my 2020 playlist...

everything in caleb's space was so very... you. the foods in the fridge, the furniture, the tidiness of it all. there was so much of you, and it was quickly becoming a safe haven.

it seemed everything caleb owned was carefully picked out with your interests and not his.

you remember asking him about it, if he was truly okay with you taking over his space like this; especially since you never spent a dime while with him.

his answer still fresh in your mind.

"trust me honey, this is all i've ever wanted." he said with a sincere smile and a pat to your head, "besides, there's still a lot of me around, you just gotta find it."

back then, you weren't sure what he meant exactly and seen it as a way of him comforting you.

now, however, as the microwave locked your frozen dinner in there you realized what he meant.

caleb always cooked for you, he knew your desired calorie intake, allergies, and all the foods you didn't like.

you never had to lift a finger in the kitchen when he was around, because he had already taken care of everything before you even had the chance to think about it.

but now, standing in the quiet hum of the microwave, the absence of his presence was deafening. he was on a rather long mission with the fleet. he did prepackage all your meals, labeled and all, but admittedly... being bored with nothing to do except eat made the meals go quicker than expected. surprisingly, there was a frozen pasta dinner shoved in the back of the freezer. it wasn't the most ideal, but it was the best you could do without your personal chef and boyfriend.

it was a little embarrassing how dependent you became on him. you knew if he were here, he'd kiss your head and tell you he'll make those nasty thoughts go away.

there were still traces of him all around you, in the way the spice rack was arranged just so, the way the couch cushions bore the slightest indent from where he always sat, and even the basket of apples on the counter.

you sighed, leaning against the counter as the microwave beeped, signaling your sad little dinner was ready.

there was a small problem though.

the microwave wasn't opening.

no matter how much strength you used, the door just wasn't opening. you felt your eyebrow twitch; did you somehow manage to break his microwave? there was no way; sure, you relied on him a bit, but you definitely remembered the basics in the kitchen.

before you could get more frustrated, your phone dinged.

caleb <3: where did u even find that lol? thought i threw those all out :,)

you stared at your phone in deadpan before glancing back at the microwave, quickly texting back.

[name]: how did you even...?

caleb <3: baby, i got eyes everywhere

you huffed, shaking your head. of course he somehow knew you were about to eat the one frozen dinner he swore he got rid of.

[name]: okay, stalker. but actually, i think ur microwave is broken??? it won’t open.

the typing bubble appeared instantly.

caleb <3: yeah, ik... had some free time, messed around with a few things :p

another message came through right after.

caleb <3: say, what happened to the meals i prepared for you?

then another...

caleb <3: did you not like them? let me know so i know for the future if your tastes changed, sorry pretty girl

you were quick to type out a response, seeing as his typing bubble didn't disappear.

[name]: no!! i loved them all, just... they're gone :(

the message was marked as read immediately as he your phone began to ring.

you sighed, but your lips curled into a small smile as you answered.

“hi, caleb.”

“hi,” he echoed, his voice warm despite the slight scolding tone. “now, tell me, honey—how are they already gone? i made sure they’d last until i got back.”

you pouted, sinking further into the couch. “i got bored… and they were really good.”

caleb chuckled, and you could just picture the way he’d be shaking his head if he were here. “i swear, you’re gonna make me start rationing your meals.”

“you wouldn’t.”

“would i?”

you frowned. “…would you?”

his laugh came through the speaker, low and sweet. “nah, i could never say no to you. but seriously, baby, if you need more food, i'll order something. don’t go eating those frozen meals, they’re so bad for you.”

“it’s just one,” you mumbled.

“still. i don’t like the thought of you eating that while i’m gone.”

you sighed, tugging at the microwave one more time. “well, maybe if you weren’t so far away…”

“aw, do you miss me, pretty girl?”

you refused to answer that; he already knew the answer.

caleb hummed. “yeah… i miss you too.”

his voice was softer now, and your chest ached at how much you just wanted him here.

“i’ll be back soon,” he promised. “then i’ll make you something actually edible, alright?”

you smiled. “alright.”

“good girl.”

you felt your cheeks heat up, and caleb laughed again, as if he knew. (which he did).

“love you, honey.”

“love you too,” you murmured, holding the phone a little tighter. "why exactly is the microwave locked?" you decided to question one more time.

caleb chuckled, "i know you, [name]. even if i wasn't watching you, you'd open it and still eat the pasta. better to take... precautionary measures for my pipsqueak. did you even check the expiration date?"

ignoring his question, you did a quick lookover of the room, looking for the camera he had somewhere as he only laughed. "maybe instead of looking for the cameras, find what else i modified in the house, it'll keep you occupied. i'll order you food in the meantime."

you groaned, flopping back against the couch. “caleb, i swear, if you messed with anything else—”

“if? honey, i definitely did.”

your eyes narrowed. “like what?”

“mmm, can’t say. that’d ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?”

you let out a dramatic sigh. “you are a menace.”

“and you love me for it.”

unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong.

you stood up, glancing around the apartment, suddenly suspicious of everything. you had no idea when he found the time to do all this, but knowing caleb, he planned ahead weeks in advance, just for moments like these.

the phone call was cut short as commotion started on his mission, leading you to sadly have to hang up.

you sighed, setting your phone down and eyeing the apartment with renewed suspicion.

as if on cue, you heard a soft click.

you turned your head slowly.

the front door.

more specifically, the new deadbolt that you definitely hadn’t installed.

your stomach dropped. oh, no.

another quick text from caleb.

caleb <3: your food is outside, i unlocked the door for you to grab it <3 be quick.

you did as he said, quickly grabbing the food delivery from outside, the door locking as soon as you got back in.

[name]: caleb. why is the door locked from the outside?

it took him a moment to reply, likely caught up with work, but when his name finally popped up on your screen, you already knew you wouldn’t like his answer.

caleb <3: oh, that? safety measures, honey. u can unlock it, but only through the app i installed on ur phone :)

you blinked. what app?

as soon as you asked, a new icon appeared on your screen—a sleek little security app with a familiar-looking otto icon.

caleb <3: just in case u ever get any funny ideas about leaving late at night alone.

your jaw dropped.

[name]: caleb. you remote locked me inside our home.

caleb <3: our very safe home! where nothing bad can happen to u!! :D i'll text u when i get to safety, enjoy ur food pipsqueak!

i love caleb btw

we're gaming full on x

I love that everyone just agrees Caleb is a panty sniffer

Art by @Evil_fishie on twitter

Diary

Summary- Caleb finds MC’s diary and reads it. Angst ensues.

Words- 8k

Caleb has made it a habit to frequent your apartment in Linkon. Since you’d taken care of him when he was sick, something had changed for him, back at Skyhaven. The city seemed less empty, less cold and on the days that it did, he could simply disappear into his phone and call his favorite person.

He still struggled to let you see his vulnerable side, he knows it’s a problem, but he doesn’t let it hinder him from trying to pry his way back into your life. He couldn’t however, get rid of his habit of showing up unannounced, a small part of him still scared that if he called ahead, you’d try to avoid him.

This often caused him to have to stay at your place while the association sent you on your way, your daily grind not stopping because your childhood best friend had returned.

Today was one such day, and Caleb was simply relaxing on the sofa, after having set a delicious apple pie in the oven. His phone rings. His eyes light up seeing your name. “Hey, it’s my favorite pipsqueak!”

“You call other people pipsqueak?”, you narrow your eyes.

“Of course not. You’re the only-“

“Anyways. Caleb, you’re at my place, right?”, you ask hurriedly.

“Yeah…?”, he replies, instantly setting his feet on the floor sensing your tone. “Why?”

“Could you do me a favor and check my desk to see if Jenna’s birthday card is there?”

Caleb relaxes his shoulders that had tensed up involuntarily. “Sure thing, hold on”

He pads his way to your room, making his way to the desk. It’s relatively neat, save the piles of files in a corner and the haphazard stationery. “Uh…”

“Are you at my desk?”

“Yeah”

“Okay. Is it there? It’s in a dark blue gift bag?”

“Uh... I don’t see it”, Caleb replies, balancing the phone between his right shoulder and ear as he gingerly shuffles the files around. He opens a drawer, only to find it filled with some odds and ends, and tries his luck with the other. This one is more organized, filled mostly with thick books of a shade of dark purple. He quickly checks between them. “Okay, hold on”

Nestled between two books is the bag and Caleb pulls it out quickly. “I think I see it. Dark blue bag with two cards inside”

“Yup! Thank goodness!”, you sigh happily. “Could you please give it to Xavier? He’s coming over to get it?”

“I can just drop it off if you need me to pipsq-“, he says, but you interrupt him.

“No, no, I’d feel bad making you bear the Linkon traffic. Besides, Xavier needs to be at the association anyways so…”

Caleb hums quietly. “Sure, if you say so. Will you be late?”

“No… at least I don’t think so…Jenna’s going on vacation for her birthday, so we’re just doing a small office party today”

Caleb nods. “So…this Xavier…”

“Yeah, he should be there any minute, he lives upstairs”

“Oh”.

He didn’t like that.

He didn’t like it at all.

He dawdles awkwardly while he waits for this Xavier. Xavier turns out to be…rather surprising. Dressed in an outfit similar to your own, he’s talking on his phone as he offers a bright smile. “Hi, I’m Xavier…” Caleb doesn’t let him continue, shoving the bag in his direction. Xavier happily takes it and turns, replying with a small ‘yes, I got it’. It only fuels the irritation brewing at Caleb’s fingertips. He was on a call with you.

After trying to will away the annoyance in his chest at the sight of the confident blue-eyed man, Caleb returns to the desk, shuffling the things back to where they were. A bunch of polaroids drop to the ground from one of the books, which he picks up instead.

He doesn’t recognize anybody in the photo besides you, but he assumes the one you’re making a finger heart with is Tara, your best friend. Two other women huddle close behind, and then there’s the three men. Xavier, a black-haired man with glasses who didn’t look happy to be there, and a smart looking man with a not-so subtle hand on the long-haired woman’s waist. His eyes linger on your smile, the way you look so happy and content and he can’t deny the pang he feels in his chest. She has friends.

She has people she loves. And who love her.

He looks at the photo for a bit, before it began to hurt too much, and then he turns it over in his hand. Company Dinner 02/02/2048. Deciding it was enough snooping, he tries to find where it had fallen out of, before he sees two other photos lodged between two different pages. He carefully turns the pages. There’s one of her with a purple haired guy, with a painting the size of a wall behind them.

His hand is on her waist, his brain registers ruefully.

Rafayel’s exhibition 01/03/2048.

Huh.

He places both the photos back inside, before turning to the last one. A silver haired man sits with a crow on his finger, smiling at the camera like the very act of taking a photo was his prime source of amusement. Caleb feels his blood boil a little. He imagines her taking it, smiling, and this man’s ruby red eyes watching her. Sylus 12/12/2048

Making a mental note to find out who this Sylus guy was, he slams the book shut.

He can hear his breathing.

That’s never a good sign. He’s about to pack them away when his fingers open up one of the purple books and skims over the first line, written in a loose mixture of cursive and print.

Dear Diary,

Life is complex, but it is during times like these that I…

He slams the book shut, his heartbeat in his ears. This…is your diary. Your most personal thoughts. Written down on paper, within reach, right there, at his fingertips. And there’s not one book. There’s multiple. This wasn’t a one-time thing. It was a habit.

He stays there for a few seconds, his fingers frozen, his thoughts a mess, but then he slowly piles the books back into the drawer. Except the one he’s holding. He checks the last page. It’s filled. He sits down slowly on the chair facing your desk.

He shouldn’t.

He knows he shouldn’t.

But then again, he shouldn’t have drugged you either. He knows it’s a bad idea. Back then, he had the excuse of needing to protect you. There was no excuse for this. There was no excuse for him to read your personal diary. And yet, he found his gaze transfixed and his hands turning over the pages of your diary.

Dear Diary,

Life is complex, but it is during times like these that I turn to home. I don’t really get how and when does one’s ‘home’ change from the place you grew up in to something else. I’ve been away since college and yet when I go back home, it feels like I’ve hit the reset button. I love it there.

I’m seeing Caleb today, after quite some time. He has not been home since forever, and grandma keeps pestering me to tell him to visit, as if he’s going to listen to me, of all people! Caleb just marches to the beat of his own drum. Still, I miss him. I’m soo excitedd.

I’m not going to carry this diary there, it’s too much work trying to hide it, so adios!

Caleb can’t stop himself from reading further. He remembers that day clearly.

Dear Diary,

I’m back!! The trip home was great. I saw Caleb after ages. He looked happy. Can’t believe he’s a pilot now. In fact, I can’t believe the three of us really did become what we always wanted to- Zayne became a doctor, Caleb became a pilot and I became a hunter. Imagine we had switched roles? Imagine Zayne as a hunter and me chiding him for injuring himself, that’s funny. Or imagine Caleb as a doctor. He wouldn’t last a minute when he sees those pools of blood. Or maybe he would. I don’t know. He’d make a good hunter too, he was always fighting the bullies in school.

Grandma looked okay, but I wish she would stop growing older. Every time I see her, I can’t help but worry. The doctor has increased her medication too.

I felt my system reset, like I said it would. Every time I go back, I feel like I’m okay. Otherwise, it’s so easy to feel like a mess, like I’m not doing enough, and like I should be doing so much more, things like that.

However, I’ve decided to go to the arcade at least once a week. When I saw Caleb’s airplane models, I decided I should spend some time doing things I like- like collecting plushies. I don’t have the energy to pick up a new hobby right now, but I can at least start a little collection.

Caleb smiles. He looks over at the neatly lines plushies on the wall mounted shelf. You sure kept up the promise. He carries the book over to the couch.

Only a little more.

Dear Diary,

I met Zayne today, for my yearly medical checkup. He lectured me about sleeping and eating and getting injured less and other things that I zoned out about. He worries too much about everything. If I worried this much about each Wanderer I had to fight, I’d have grey hair before 25.

Speaking of grey hair, Nina from weapons found a grey hair yesterday, so she’s worried. She bleaches her hair a lot, so maybe it’s because of that. Wait let me look that up.

Okay, so apparently constantly bleaching your roots can do that to your hair. Maybe I should text her that. I had hotpot for dinner today, it was great. I do eat outside a lot, but I simply don’t know what to cook, that’s the reason why.

Caleb remembers the pie in the oven, just in time. He takes his time in the kitchen, unable to keep the little smile off his face. She’s so cute, he can’t help but think, but it’s combined with a sinking feeling. There’s so much that she thinks about. So much that I don’t know.

Caleb spends the next hour reading through. He promises himself he wouldn’t pry too deep. He'd stop if things got too personal, but the line between the two of you had always been blurry. Where did he end and you begin? What secret was too dark that you'd hide it from him? He didn't know, he couldn't tell.

He slipped the book into his backpack for later.

You return sometime later, and Caleb is more than happy to welcome you and your stories from work. He feels happy, and so much lighter than he has since so many days.

"And then...Tara nearly fell into her arms!"

Caleb laughs heartily, but his mind lingers longer on your smiley eyes than the story you tell.

x

Skyhaven is bright, but it is also too clean, too clinical. Too empty, Caleb thinks. His breaks are punctuated with questions of when he’s getting to see you again, finger loitering over the video call button. Should he call? Would that be too much? You always did like your space.

Caleb had stuffed the book in his backpack and it now lay under his mattress-a little night reading before he went to bed. Initially, he hadn’t been able to keep the jealous feelings from coiling painfully in his stomach when you wrote about the other men you knew, but eventually he found himself feeling pretty neutral about them. You seemed…dare he say happy? His heart drops a little at the thought again, but it was true. You were allowed to be happy without him.

He deserved that.

Besides, he couldn’t keep them away from you when they claimed to be ‘friends’, so he continues, trying to see what you were like when he didn’t have his eyes on you.

Dear Diary,

Today, Rafayel slipped on a paintbrush and admitted himself to the hospital. I really don’t understand how he’s so clumsy. He also had the audacity to lie to me!! First, he pretended not to recognise me as revenge, because I didn’t visit him as soon as he texted. And then, he said he fell while trying to save a child!! He’s ridiculous!!

Caleb chuckles. This Rafayel guy was funny at least.

Then, he proceeded to tell me some stories and wanted to run away from the hospital but Zayne would actually kill me if he found out I helped a patient elope, so I refused. Zayne has been superr busy too.

He could see you in his mind’s eye, arguing with this Rafayel guy. He rolls over in bed, clutching the precious diary closer.

I was hoping to have lunch with him today but he didn’t even have time for that. I really don’t get how he survives the day on cafeteria sandwiches. Especially those particular hospital cafeteria sandwiches. The mayo is so watery, it once ran down my lip as if I’d bit into a strawberry. Zayne has good taste in restaurants, plus he’s a good cook. That’s surprising, but I guess it’s not that hard to follow instructions off a video. I don’t understand how Xavier managed to burn tea today, AGAIN. It's like my life is a sitcom! He called me, all panicked, at 7:25, when I had an alarm for 7:30, and I had to go and help him. How is he so capable as a hunter but so terrible at cooking? Does it do it for fun? I don’t think he does? He looks too pitiful when he does, like he really would like to get it right but simply can’t. Also called Caleb today but the reception was ass, so we spoke for only like 10 minutes.

Caleb’s heart thumps at the mention of his name. He remembers that call. He had tried to use the fleet’s Wifi, but nothing had been working. Regret seeps into his bones slowly. It seems like the only emotion he feels these days. A sudden ringing of his phone startles him out of his reminiscing.

He looks over at his phone on the bedside table.

Call from Darling Pipsqueak. He quickly picks up.

“Hey, pipsqueak!”, he greets.

“Hi! Are you free?”

“For you, yes”, he replies, his lips curling into a smile at the sound of your voice.

You don’t notice. Caleb is good at pretending.

“I have to tell you what happened today”, you sound particularly happy, and he closes the book to face the screen.

He stops for a second and decides to take it in.

All of it.

He’s here, and you’re calling him to tell him about your colleague who tripped over the sidewalk and you’re laughing, and you’re not looking at him with doubt, or fear, or confusion because you’re laughing.

Regret.

Regret can wait for when his heart isn’t thumping at the way you’re smiling at him.

X

Dear Diary,

I was talking to Tara about Mark. After she insisted on making me download an app which made matches based on ‘personality and Evol’, I swiped a few men left and right before I met him. He was nice at first, even though he seemed a bit nervous. He was chatty and funny and like generally, there was nothing wrong with him but…wait I’ll elaborate in a minute. Me and Tara were at Café Serena, trying the new sfogliatellas with matcha and she was taking these Pinterest date pics. She was way too excited for me and Mark. Things have been going well, but I don’t feel as excited about it as she wants me to be.

It just feels like pretence. There’s nothing technically wrong with him. He’s smart, and flirty and he appreciates me and makes me feel seen, but I feel like I’m playing a role on a stage instead of ‘being me’, you know? I imagined calling him my boyfriend and sitting with him in that same café and I just simply didn’t care. I didn’t hate it, but I couldn’t care less. How do people fall in love with strangers? How do people fall in love at all?

He hadn’t known about this. You hadn’t told him.

Caleb closes the book and stuffs it under his mattress. He needs to sleep. He needs to run. He needs to do something to chase away the feeling that’s creeping below his skin at the mention of this Mark. In fact, he needs to sleep right now if he wishes to catch at least four hours. His job as a Colonel was still an integral part of his every day, even though his mind wandered to Linkon City every ten minutes.

He tosses and turns in his bed, unable to sleep. Finally, he pulls it out again and huffs. Sleep be damned, he has to find out how it ended with Mark. 

The next entry is dated fifteen days later.

Dear Diary,

Me and Mark ‘broke up’.

See, technically, he knew that. You were single now, weren’t you? But Caleb can’t deny the rush of satisfaction that floods his veins as he reads the words on the page.

I simply don’t care. I don’t know if it’s callous of me. Mark looked confused for a moment, but then he looked disappointed. ‘You’re really emotionally unavailable’ he said and I am SO ANGRY. WHAT DOES HE MEAN! I’m plenty emotional. I just didn’t feel the spark with him. At this point I’m fed up of all this dating business.

I don’t know why I feel upset when I broke up with him. I don’t know, I’m going to sleep. I need to wash my hair first. I’m fucking annoyed at everything!

Caleb intended to feel a sense of relief, but he just felt annoyed. You shouldn’t have to feel like something was wrong with you because of some guy.

The next day, Caleb wishes he had makeup to hide the dark circles under his eyes. He had stayed up all night, reading further, wanting to leave on a good note. The next few entries had just been short tired updates, or gossip from your hunter friends, or irritated outbursts about Mark, which had only fuelled the already present disdain he felt for this man.

His eyes were burning.

He runs his finger over the plush material of the book, which he had carried to his office, and now sat locked away in a drawer by his left. h

X

That night, he’s settled into bed. Little does he know that he’s only got a few pages before that day. That day when everything changed for him, but everything ended for you.

Dear Diary,

Grandma’s gone. Caleb’s gone too.

His hands shake a little as he sees the dried drops that had stained the ink of your pen into little purple pools. Tears.

Oh.

Oh, he had…he wouldn’t say forgotten, but he had locked it away. He had imagined you happy. Now he’s faced with the consequences of his actions in the truest form, the proof of how he’d hurt you.

That same day, I had lunch with them. Caleb cooked for us too. He looked different I don’t know why, and we fought about something dumb- about how I don’t rely on him or something. He entered the house and it just exploded. I don’t remember much, no matter how hard I try. I was just there and then I wasn’t. I woke up in the hospital. Zayne understands my need to keep busy. It is the only way I can do anything. If I sit down, I will never stand up. If I sleep, it feels like I will never wake up. Some days I wish it, actually.

I refuse to believe it was an accident. Zayne said the professor who worked with grandma about something related to Protocore syndrome might have had something to do with the explosion. I have to find out. I will find out what happened there, because there’s no way that was just an accident. We’re going to Mt. Eternal next week.

So, you had always suspected. A part of his mind marvels at how you always knew, but he can’t focus on it when he turns the pages to see so much, so many words written in the days that followed.

A brief moment has him wondering if he should stop, if this was the line he couldn’t, shouldn’t cross. Not for you, for him.

He didn’t know if he was ready to see exactly how he’d caused that much hurt.

He falls asleep clutching the book to his chest like a lifeline.

X

The next diary entry is dated a month later.

Dear Diary,

Zayne visited me today, which was strange since he works 25/7. At first, I was suspicious of him, but he said he was just there ‘to hang out’. We cooked dinner together, although he did most of the work, and then we had dinner. He was really chatty today. We spoke about many things. He even made me an ice duck- just because I said his expertise only extended to ice seals. It was fun.

Caleb sighs. Zayne. His mind conjured up an image of the man, albeit much younger. Time hadn’t erased much of your image from his head, but it had been years since he had met the man. He remembers a boy, a quiet, shy boy, but the same nonetheless. A boy who would always make sure you were okay. He’s apparently that same boy. Would Caleb ever meet him again?

He can’t help but stare at the book for a moment, his fingers twitching to reach over and dial your number, hear your voice. He nearly jumps when his phone does ring, and he reaches out excitedly only to see it’s from Gideon.

“I hope you still live at Capella Towers because…I’m right here”

Gideon had shown up to his place to ‘catch up’. Caleb shouldn’t have been surprised. The night ended with him drinking way more than necessary and the next day he would have barely considered himself awake till he was already sitting at his desk at the Fleet. The day went quickly for him, which was a good thing. You also replied to his post on Moments, and he had to bite back a smile in the corridor. It wouldn’t do his reputation any well to smile in the Fleet’s corridors.

It's not before he’s back in bed that he realizes something his off. His hand involuntarily moves to the slot between his mattress and bedframe, feeling around for the book that has become habit to him, only to find nothing but the cold metal. He immediately sits up, body bolting up straight as a rod before he lifts the corner of the mattress straight off.

It’s empty.

The book is gone.

Panic sets in, driving any rational thoughts away. He drops to his knees, feeling around once more as if his metal fingers had simply missed the first two times.

There was no way he lost the book.

Caleb stands, rapidly crossing the room to grab the small bag he carries to work. Nothing but his ID and water bottle sits there.

Besides, why would it be in his bag?

Could Gideon have found it? No way.

Caleb stands, sweat beginning to form at his hairline.

Gideon wouldn’t do such a thing, would he? He’s probably tease Caleb about it first. That would only leave the office-

Caleb moves fast. He’s in his car before the minute is up, not bothering to change out of his cotton pants and loose T shirt. He’s about to break every signal if it comes to it, and he clutches the wheel like his fingers would leave prints. He’s striding to the main gate in no time, scanning his ID and ignoring the guard at the entrance before marching to his desk. He takes a deep breath.

Caleb tears open the drawers. Papers fly.

He sees it.

The little book. Caleb clutches it in his hand. He flips through the pages, just in case.

Just in case. His heart is still thumping dully when he reaches home.

X

Dear Diary,

A few days ago, Rafayel was pestering me about not visiting him so I did. That was the first bad idea. I had already had a bad day, thinking about everything, and I was hoping talking to him would sort some things out but it didn’t help. Instead, he began talking about Lemuria and a few other things and I was trying to be sympathetic but after a point, I found myself just simply nodding. I couldn’t help him. I knew it was a wound for him that still hurt, but I couldn’t help him, and he knew it! I tried to keep track of the conversation but I zoned out for a long moment, I think.

I had my laptop with me and I still had work to upload. I just continued working. Rafayel kept talking, and even though I appreciated the company, it was just a lot. The scraggly handwritten reports written by Nero, which I could barely read, the swish of the waves outside the window, the buffering internet, Rafayel’s voice, it was just irritating me…I was also nauseous since I hadn’t eaten, I think.

 I ended up throwing the files across his studio. The effect was terrible. Papers flew everywhere, and I wanted to rip them to shreds. I also think I shocked Rafayel.

Rafayel gave me a hug then.  I don’t know what came over me- why I was so angry. It just felt like I was useless as a friend to Rafayel, to grandma, to Caleb, to Linkon as a hunter. I just felt generally useless. I was too useless to deserve even his friendship.

All I wanted to do was go home and lie down and sleep and not think about how my life was falling apart every single day, and he was trying to play therapist.  It just suddenly got on my nerves. I kind of rejected his hug but he refused to let go and I started crying.

I was a mess, crying and almost thrashing, but he didn’t let me go. I haven’t seen him since. I still feel embarrassed about seeing him again, but he acted normal the next day, so I’m just going to have to suck it up and meet him today. I think I cried for a while before I fell asleep.

I really hope he doesn’t bring it up. I don’t have any answers for him. I can’t even cancel. He’ll know if I’m avoiding him.

He’s too perceptive sometimes.

Caleb takes a shuddering breath.  

He’s sitting on his bed, his fingers involuntarily tracing the letters on the page when he hears his shrill doorbell ring.

Who…? Certainly, nobody from work would dare to show up to his house. Besides, not a lot of others knew where he lived. Which left… Caleb crossed the hall, bare feet on the cold floor, as he opened the door only to feel his heart kick up to see you, standing at his doorstep.

“Caleb!”, you cheer excitedly, opening your arms up for a hug.

“Pip…squeak?”, his arms curl around your shoulders, but his voice betrays the questions in his mind. “What are you doing here?”

“What, I can’t come to see you?”, you ask, cheerfully, as he drags you in to shut the door.

“You…came from Linkon…to see me?” Caleb can’t believe it. Sure, he had done the same thing a few weeks ago, but to think you’d do that for him…

“Yeah! I have tomorrow off, so as soon as I got off work, I booked an evening ticket and here I am”, you explain simply, as if it were that easy. Caleb notices the little backpack you’re carrying, and his heart thumps in his chest.

You really came to Skyhaven for him. To spend one day, your day off, with him.

“Well then, welcome”, he says quickly. He’s good at pretending, after all. His smile is back on his face, even though his heart is doing a funny combination in his chest.

Over dinner he watches you eat, his heart squeezing painfully at the thought of a day when you couldn’t, because of him. When you take a shower, he hides the diary quickly, wondering how he had forgotten it on his bed, but that was what you did to him.

Left him off guard, off kilter.

“Do you have face moisturizer Caleb?”, your voice cuts through his thoughts.

“Yeah”, he hands it over, unable to keep his eyes from trailing over you as you rub the lotion into your neck.

His body moves involuntarily as he pats your hair against the towel. The gentle scent of his shampoo on you hits his nose, and he has to keep something at bay, to tamper down what suddenly threatens to flow over. “What are you…?”

“Drying your hair, obviously”, he replies. His voice sounds rough. He clears his throat.

His mind wanders when he’s finally lying down. You’d spent hours talking, playing Kitty Cards, before your eyes had started to droop. “Time for bed, sleepyhead”, he had said squishing your cheeks, before setting up the guest bedroom.

He turns over once. Sleep evades him. He walks to the kitchen for a drink of cold water. He stares at the night sky. He debates with himself. He shouldn’t, really. Besides, you’d be asleep. His feet still carry him to the edge of the bed you’re lying in, before he places a hand on your head, gentle, light.

You don’t move. You hope your measured breaths speak for you. He waits. Watches as the quiet moonlights kisses your skin. He turns away. You reach out to grab his hand before you remember sleeping people don’t do that. “Can’t sleep?”, you ask. Caleb shakes his head.

“Lie here with me?”

Who is he to deny you that? Who is Caleb to deny you anything, really.

So, he does. He lies down, keeping his distance, trying to ignore how every minute seems to add to the water threatening to spill over like an overfilled dam straining at the seams.

But you shuffle and press yourself closer to him and he lets himself a little reprieve to preserve his sanity as he reaches an arm out to encircle your waist. Your hand on his nearly makes his heart still.

X

Dear Diary,

Nobody makes me madder than Sylus. Every word he speaks is smug. Every deal he proposes is suspicious. The other week I had to attend a dinner because of this businessman I met and he seemed suitable enough to go with, so I asked him. He was every bit smug the entire evening. “Am I too much sweetie?” “Am I stealing the spotlight darling?” His ten-thousand-dollar laugh doesn’t help either. By the time it was time to go home, I was done. The dress I had ended up picking wasn’t great either. It was beautiful, but it made my skin itch.

I was going to head home but Sylus insisted I ‘owed him’ and drove us to the Onichynus base instead. It’s a long story. He wanted my input for a heist that involved stealing a code from a businessman. Usually, Sylus uses power, not stealth, but he needed to stay hidden, hence my help.

I didn’t have an answer. Every option I ran through in my head felt like it put him in too much danger. It had to be him too. He had to go there himself. It wouldn’t do if he sent any of his men. I don’t think I can trust my decisions with matters of stealth like that. I used to, some time ago, when I was a fresh hunter. One’s trust in oneself is an important part in stealth operations. But recently, I find myself questioning everything.

If I had kept talking to Caleb that day, maybe he wouldn’t have entered the house at all. Maybe he wouldn’t have died. Maybe if I hadn’t left the house at all, it wouldn’t been me too. I wouldn’t mind it honestly. I can’t help but run the possibilities of how things could’ve gone differently over and over again. It’s endless.

I didn’t have an answer for Sylus. “Trust yourself”, he told me. I don’t.

Eventually he stared at me for long and then gave up. Thankfully, I didn’t cry like a baby this time. I would’ve avoided him for a month out of embarrassment if I did, actually. But he didn’t seem to notice. He just insisted the N109 streets were too dangerous to drive home and I should stay at his place for the night, so I did. I was too tired to argue. We even had hot chocolate.

Caleb holds the page between his fingers. Surely, Sylus noticed. He feels his anger dissipate a little, an aching pain filling the gap instead. He had been there for you. When Caleb hadn’t been. Not beside you, when you needed him.

He swallows once.

Caleb turns the remaining pages absently, his heart thumping in his ears. His mind goes back to the man’s red eyes, his smile when you had been behind the camera.

He realizes he didn’t even have the right to be angry.

He runs a shaky hand through his hair.

X

Running is Caleb’s way of starting the day.

When his body wakes up before his mind. Truth is, his mind hadn’t felt very awake even when the sun is at its peak in the sky. He had done his best to keep it going. His routine. His carefully balanced system of pretense and silence. Silence in which he would either think of you, or call you, or sit. When he sat, he felt guilty.

So, he didn’t. He filled the time with more missions. More fleet mergers. More people pissed off. He could deal with enemies, enemies weren’t new.

He couldn’t deal with silence.

He couldn’t deal with you.

Because slowly your words had darkened the image he saw in his head. The cheerful one; you with the same fight and enthusiasm as when you were little. Every time he saw your face on a call, his brain moved a little slower, taking another path of worry, even when you were right there, in front of him. His mind kept wanting to inspect closer for any cracks, wanting to ask if you were okay, because now he knew that if you weren’t, you wouldn’t go to him.

You’d go to Rafayel, or Sylus, or Zayne or Xavier. Certainly better options than him.

It was destroying him more than he knew.

The running wasn’t working.

X

Dear Diary,

I didn’t go to work today. Even after a day off, I felt terrible. I woke up in the morning and nearly cried at the thought of having to get up. it’s like falling down on ice. Once you fall, you want to keep sitting there because you won’t fall further. I slept till 2pm and then I only woke up to drink water before I slept for another four hours. I woke up after the sun set. Xavier texted me asking if I was okay, but that was at 11am and I was just too embarrassed to text him back by the time I saw his text, so I just ignored it. I nearly jumped out of my skin when he knocked on my bedroom door some time later. I was just in bed, scrolling on some random videos and he had just let himself in.

I hated him seeing me like this. I hadn’t even brushed my teeth or taken a shower. My hair was a mess. The worst part is, he asked me if I was sick and I couldn’t even make up a lie quick enough. I was just having an off day, I told him. Kind of like when he sleeps for 28 hours at a stretch.

He had brought over takeout, and out of embarrassment I brushed my teeth and washed my face as he set it up. Xavier pretended not to notice but I’m sure he thinks I’m coming down with something. I shouldn’t have given him my apartment passkey. Now I can’t even bedrot in peace.  

He told me about this new book he’s reading and I said I’d read it soon, but to be honest idk when I will. I don’t have the patience to read a book these days.

The next entry has a time skip of three months.

Dear Diary,

I think the thing that hurts the most is feeling like we have time. We always had time. And then we didn't. I wonder what he’d do if it had been me.

I never got to tell him I love him.

I will always regret that.

The diary ends abruptly after that. Caleb turns the pages in a panic before he sees a few more words after a few blank pages.

Dear Caleb,

In therapy, they talk about a 'normal grief reaction' but I don't understand what makes it normal. My best friend is gone. The one I love is gone. He didn't know I loved him.

I don't understand how they don't see that.

I saw a boy flying a paper plane today and for a second, I thought, we should do that when I see you. Before I remembered.

I hate to think that it was such an ordinary day. A quiet day which will forever divide my life into a before and after. Into a with and a without. I hate that nothing stopped, everything went on as usual. There just was and then there wasn’t.

I hate that I have to remember and talk about you instead of talking to you. In the middle of all the chaos, with Tara and Simone and Andrew, every time I eat apple pie, every time I see an airplane fly, I think of you.

I still send messages to your number, and I still confess to the sky.

I'm hoping the airplanes will carry my wishes to you, and my thoughts and ideas, unlike those traitorous shooting stars we saw once. Because they didn’t keep my wish.

Yours,

Y/N

X

It is a quiet sunny day when the birds chirp like they did all those years ago, when Caleb slips the notebook back into the dark brown drawer where he had found it, two months ago.

X

He disappears into the Deepspace Tunnel. Work was a mask, it was a shield, it was a cover for so many things that he didn’t know where to put down and how to hold. Maybe, he should never have picked up that book. Because the last time he had spent at your place, he had found a ball in his throat every few minutes to the point where you had noticed.

He should probably do something. Say something. He doesn’t know where to start.

He can’t help but check his phone as soon as he’s landed, though. Texts flood his phone.

MC: Wow, you left again!! Without telling me!

MC: Caleb when I catch you, Caleb!

MC: text me when back

He laughs.

Caleb: guess who's back. Just landed ttyl

He barely makes it to his office before his phone is ringing. Video call. He picks it up, because there is no world in which he wouldn’t.

“HOW DARE YOU!!”

Oh no. “I told you I was going to go back to Skyhaven?”

“Yeah, I assumed for some daily job things?? You didn’t say you were going into the tunnel!”

“Well, plans changed a bit pipsqueak”

Pipsqueak simply shook her head disappointedly before she got closer to the camera. “What’s that on your face? Are you hurt?”

Caleb winces. Of course she would notice. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch”. It had been a rough tumble the ship had taken that had rammed his face into the controls, but it had been healing. He was almost hoping she wouldn’t see.

“Well, does the brilliant hunter have some time for me?”, he quickly moves the conversation forward.

You roll your eyes. “When are you getting here?”

“If I take a taxi in an hour, it should be six hours”

“Now?? Didn’t you just land?”

“Yup”, he grins, “See you soon”

Rain envelopes the long road to Linkon. He’s missed the last train, he knew he would. Caleb sleeps fitfully, his eyes occasionally opening to trail the drops of water racing down the glass windows. He arrives at night.

You welcome him joyfully, but don’t miss the dark circles that somehow seem to have got deeper. He hardly eats before he’s out like a light on the couch.

Outside, thunder rumbles.

You leave him a cute little note before going to work the next day.

‘Rest. If you cook anything, I’ll kill u♡’

At work, you rush through the paperwork like being chased by wild dogs, and you rip Xavier away from his desk to go fight that Wanderer, before clocking out.

The rain doesn’t let up. You do a quick grocery run before heading back home, hoping Caleb has taken your advice. You find him on your bed, arm over his head, headphones in. You check to see if he has a fever. Caleb jerks awake at that, startling you in turn. “H-Hey”

“Pipsqueak!”

“You weren’t sleeping?”

Caleb scratches his neck, “I’m…not sure. I think I was? Especially since you threatened me so nicely”, he adds, smiling mischievously.

“You needed the rest. You looked like shit yesterday”

He puts an offended hand on his chest. “Wow, so subtle”

You laugh before you sit down on the bed beside him. “Let’s eat dinner and then watch a movie?”

You do the cooking this time, Caleb helps. He narrates stories from here and there as he does it. You sneak peeks of him from years ago, but you don’t say it. He steals ingredients to be annoying on purpose. “I’m just trying to be your sous chef, pipsqueak. Isn’t this what you always do?”. You laugh. He stares.

He looks away, because if he doesn’t, he feels like his chest is caving in.

Before long, you’re both settled in comfortably for a movie.

It turns out to be a complex thriller with a group of friends escaping death and betraying each other to survive. The real jumpscare happens when the lights go out with a loud flash. You and Caleb stare at each other. “Did it just…?”

A flash of lightning hits threateningly. “Yup, I think so”, you confirm checking your phone. “There’s a rain warning”

“Damn”

Caleb lies back against the headboard, stretching his legs.

You two sit in the dark, the occasional lightning flashing across your face before it dawns on him that you don’t flinch anymore. He sits up straighter.

“What?”

“You’re not scared?”

A small laugh escapes you. “I’m not ten anymore”

Something hurts. He thinks it’s his heart. No, you’re not.

You realize the words stung. Because you move closer to him, resting against his side. His arms wrap around your waist.

He wasn’t there to see it happen. When you stopped being a kid. When you stopped needing him.

My best friend is gone.

He shouldn’t, but he thinks you’re gone too, in a way. You’re a different person now. While he’s the same. Stuck, waiting, only somehow, worse. But he was destined to love every version of you. That was who he was. Caleb, in love with her.

The one I love is gone.

Caleb thinks of the things he’s seen you love. A little plant you grew for a school project. A puppy you fed every day. Ice candies in summer. He remembers how you cried when the plant began to wilt, and how you aggressively nursed it back to health. He thinks of your love-struck happy smile when your fingers brushed the puppy’s brown soft fur. He sees the gentle way you handled the things you loved in his mind’s eye. Not like they were fragile, but precious. He tries to think of being among those things. He doesn’t see it. Can’t picture it. There’s no way he could be loved by you. There’s no way he could forgive himself, either.

He didn’t know I loved him.

His hands wrap around your waist, tighter. Please, he prays. Please understand how I feel. Because I know I don’t deserve to. And I still do.

He knows it hadn’t been easy. But seeing, knowing, had changed the way he felt the guilt. And right now, it was curling around his heart making every beat feel like it was a mistake. He blinks his eyes, trying to well away the tears he feels rising.

I still send messages to your number.

He can’t keep them in. His vision swims as a thin layer of water pools at the bottom of his eyeball, threatening to spill.

"I'm sorry…”, he whispers, because he is. He’s never been sorrier.

This is pathetic.

He’s pathetic.  

You turn to face him.

“I'm so sorry...for everything.”

Your eyes widen in question. What was happening?

“Caleb, what’s wrong?” The Caleb from your childhood didn’t cry. Neither did the one who came back. Caleb just didn’t cry. At all.

"For going away...for coming back...for putting you through so much… for still wanting…”

Your hands cup his sharp jaw as his words ramble out of him in bursts, your concern growing exponentially. “Caleb…you’re not making much sense”

A singular tear runs down the inner corner of his eye, past his nose and down to his lips.

“I’m sorry…”, he whispers again, his breath stuttering as he inhales, trying to calm himself, but only making it worse. The tears flood his eyes now, as he cries. You swipe your fingers delicately on his face and shush him. “It’s okay”, you whisper quietly, unsure of what’s happening.

But he’s crying, and your heart is breaking because he’s crying. Caleb doesn’t cry. Something must be seriously wrong for him to be crying. You hug him to your chest and his hands wrap around your waist, as he sobs.

You sit like that for a while, patting his back while the raindrops hit your window outside.

“I know I hurt you…when I died… and I’m so sorry”, he manages. His voice cracks a little.

Understanding dawns on you.

“You’re back now. And…” ‘We should forget it’, didn’t seem appropriate. “we’re going to be okay”, you assure him.

“I read your diary”

What? You freeze, and you feel he does too. You let go of him, but he only holds on tighter, burying his face deeper, avoiding eye contact. “What? When? Caleb what”

“The day I was looking for that birthday card…I just came across it and I…”, he shakes. "I feel...I felt so far away...like no matter what I did, I couldn't ever be the Caleb that you needed. I needed to know you...”

Your heart softens, despite his actions. You should be angry. You should be furious.

And yet the anger doesn’t seem to come.

“Caleb…you know me, I’m”. I’m yours, your mind offered, but you couldn’t say that. He doesn’t wait for your response.

“It’s okay if you hate me, you deserve to, I’m…” Disgusting. He had seen the look in your eyes, once, back in Skyhaven when he had you on house arrest, even if you hadn’t said the words.

“I'm sorry that I still…"

What...?

“I still...want...I think of you..."

He takes a deep breath.

"I want...", he whispers.

Thoughts rush through your head at his words. You push him out of the embrace to look at his eyes. 

“I want you to know that…”, he begins. His voice is quiet, "You don't have to confess to the sky anymore."

Time seems to stop as you take his words in.

So, he knows.

He knows.

The one I love knows, that I love him.

You lean forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss. He knows, he knows, he knows. Caleb lets out a quiet noise of surprise before fresh tears flood his eyes and his arms tighten back around your waist. He kisses you, tenderly, gently, like he wants to, like he needs to, worship.

You taste the salt on his lips and lick it off. “Don’t cry”, you say, even if you feel the tears running down your face too.

“I love you”, he whispers when you’re both panting for breath, wet faces resting against each other’s, refusing to let go. “I love you. I’m sorry I…”

“I love you, Caleb.” And then, “You’re here. I’m here, you’re okay”

Caleb shudders against your skin before he gasps in air as if he had been held underwater. Maybe he had been, in a way. He had been running, drowning, hiding.

“We’re okay”, you whispered again, even if your breath stuttered too.

Your hands grasp at his neck, pressing him closer, needing to tell, needing to show. His hand trails lower before it fits below your thigh, perfectly.

A second later, you’re in his lap. Closer. You needed to be closer to him.

You show him how you love him. You make sure he knows. The dam bursts. Caleb doesn’t hold back. He lets the emotions flow.

There had been a before. And it had been complicated. Twisted. Held back. Repressed.

But when dawn arrives, you’re sure this is the after that you’re going to bask in for the rest of your life.

gimme all your thoughts and comments

ׂ╰┈➤ ❝Love and deepspace boys ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Their favorite part of you❞

PAIRING : Caleb x reader, Sylus x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader and Xavier x reader GENRE : Fluff + Smut WORD COUNT : 1k TAGS : NSFW, Sexual themes, Hickeys, Breast fucking, Handjob, Mastrubation, dacryphillia A/N : HIIII It's been a while. I'm done with exams and I'm just waiting on the results. In the meantime, I wrote this small piece to kind of get back into the groove of writing. My next piece will deffo be longer and more detailed than this! Anyways, enjoy!!

Which part of you do the Lads boys absolutely adore?

── .✦ Rafayel

Rafayel’s favorite part of you are your hands. 

He loves it when you caress his cheeks, nuzzling into your palm like a cat. For someone who despises them, he strangely has many feline characteristics. 

Rafayel adores the feelings of your fingers carding through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp when he’s lying on your chest on a lazy afternoon. The action makes him feel almost drowsy. 

He loves holding your hand in his, feels a sense of reassurance when you squeeze his that you’re here, you’re real and you’re his. 

But he also loves watching your fingers slide in and out of your pussy, your head thrown back in pleasure as you alternate between rubbing tight circles on your clit and feeling your warm walls clamp down on your fingers. You’re a damn tease and you know it. 

Other times, the sight of your hand wrapped around his cock sends him into a frenzy. 

There’s something vulnerable and unbelievably sexy about leaving his pleasure in your hands. Each stroke combined with you thumbing his slit bringing him closer to the edge 

Every flick of your wrist has him aching with need, long drawn out moans leaving his lips as he begs for release. 

── .✦ Zayne

Zayne’s favorite part of you are your eyes. 

He adores how expressive they are — how they crinkle with joy or laughter, how they widen in surprise whenever he stops by your apartment, and how they narrow with determination when you're deep in concentration. 

But most importantly, he cherishes the way you look at him. 

Your eyes soften when your gaze shifts to him, instantly lighting up in his presence. Almost like he’s the most precious thing in the world. He preens under your attention. 

He also loves how they fill with tears of pleasure when he’s rolling his hips into yours, hitting all the right spots. 

Zayne is very intentional with his thrusts. They’re slow and measured but so so deep, reaching places in you that your own fingers can barely touch. 

But Zayne’s favorite part is holding your gaze, watching your brows furrow with each thrust, his thumb wiping away the tears that fall from your eyes and trickle down your cheeks. 

“Shhh, I’ve got you” he whispers, not once looking away from you, drinking in the sight of you so debauched. You flush under his hot gaze. 

It’s intimate and overwhelming at the same time, but neither of you would have it any other way. 

── .✦ Sylus

Sylus’ favorite part of you is your back. 

Whenever you’re together, you’ll always find a protective hand placed on the small of your back guiding you through busy streets. 

He’s subtle with it, his hand is barely there allowing you to move around freely while also serving as a warning to anyone who dares to lay a finger on you in his presence. 

In the rare event that the both of you have time to spare, you’ll often find yourself in the N109 zone, in Sylus’s room of course. 

You have your head on his chest and his hand drawing circles on your back as you spend your time simply talking and catching up on the happenings of the week.

Sometimes, Sylus would lightly drag his fingers up your spine causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles, interrupting your conversation. 

“It tickles” you’d complain, with no real malice in your tone. 

However, the most delectable sight is definitely your arched back when you’re close to cumming. The delicious curve of your spine lifting off the bed while you push your head into the pillow, barely restraining the wanton moans that escape your lips. 

Other times, he has you lying flat on your stomach, pressing kisses down your spine as he thrusts into your wet heat. When he feels you shudder in response, it only urges him to go quicken his pace. 

── .✦ Xavier

Xavier’s favorite part of you is your neck. 

At the core of it, Xavier’s favorite activities include sleeping and cuddling. Combine the two, and he’s a happy man. 

That’s why on most mornings you find that he can’t resist the urge to nuzzle into your nape. Savoring the warmth of your body while brushing his nose against the sensitive skin of your neck.

When you have your back against him, Xavier will take the opportunity to sneakily wrap his hand around your waist, burrowing his face in your neck, earning a surprised yelp from you before the action reduces you into a fit of giggles. 

These instances were playful, innocent even

A stark contrast to when he’s caging you between his arms and the bed, ravaging your throat like a man starved. Each kiss is accompanied by his teeth sinking into your skin followed by his tongue laving against the spot in apology. 

This combined with his needy thrusts had you absolutely delirious. Your moans along with your sharp hisses from each bite would only spur him on further. Rest assured, you wouldn’t be leaving until Xavier had your neck sporting hues of blues and purples, successfully claiming you as his. 

── .✦ Caleb

Caleb’s favorite part of you is your chest. 

It’s no secret that a good nights sleep is hard to come by for Caleb. He’s often plagued with nightmares. Some of them are your days in the lab being experimented on, others of you dying because he failed to protect you. 

Every time he jolts awake, he turns over to your sleeping form and lays his head on your chest. The sound of your heartbeat slows his own racing pulse and heavy breathing. Reminding him that you’re very much here and alive. The steady thrumming lulls him back to sleep. 

Caleb feels a streak of possessiveness when he sees you wearing your apple necklace. The dog tag dangling down your chest satisfies a part of him, knowing that you always have a piece of him on you at all times. 

But nothing compares to having you bare chested in front of him. He takes his time with you, teasing the bud in between his fingers while nipping and licking the other one, the action earning your long drawn out moans. 

He’s relentless with it, sucking and biting until your nipples are swollen and hard, littering purple marks around the skin of your breasts. 

When he’s feeling particularly needy, he fucks your tits like there’s no tomorrow. Frantic thrusts as you squeeze your breast together making a tight vice for him to fuck. And he isn’t stopping until he has his cum splattered across your chest.

© valyvinny. All right reserved. Do not steal, copy, translate, repost or reupload any of my works. Do not use my work for AI

Thinking about Caleb… slutting him out while riding him with your hands on his neck choking him? Absofuckinglutely. He’s SO into it; his eyes are half-lidded, tongue out, cheeks flushed, literally drooling as ur hips move in fluid motions making him moan and whine and whimper pathetically, this large 6’2 man literally almost double your size just absolutely losing it when you call him your good boy looking at u like a lost puppy, squirming and whimpering as you overstimulate him to the point he has to hug and bite a pillow, and then giving him a chaste little kiss on the forehead as he passes out with an easy smile on his face

𝔻𝕀𝔼 𝕎𝕀𝕋ℍ 𝔸 𝕊𝕄𝕀𝕃𝔼 - Caleb × MC

inspired by and dedicated to @solifloris <3

Caleb as a sub pt. 3

Hey, today the blog completed 1 year of existence. To celebrate, here's a headcanon o sub!Caleb

6 words: camping trip to astrophotography with Caleb;

That's when it clicked in his head he was in fact a sub. Not that he ever stopped to think to much about his position atop of the bunch of intercourses of your relationship with him since he became a pilot/colonel;

But don't blame him. He was a way busy dealing with leaving DAA and becoming a traumatized colonel with a bionic arm;

But now, you two got reunited again, and his worries, at least momentarily, seemed to be reduced to only two: morally roast himself about all the dirty thoughts and actions his lover boy brain made him do and fullfil his promise to take you in a summer trip;

So nothing better than explore his hobbies and bring you to spend quality time with him, exclusively;

The promise was made when you two were kids and he went out to a summer camping without you. Brokenhearted for watching you crying, he promised to take you out on a trip, just the two of you in the future;

Even though years passed by, he dreamt about finally fulfilling his promise. Because Caleb always kept his promises when you're involved, because Caleb always remembered each and every detail that involved you;

And he did everything up to the minimum details again, to make it perfect for you. To the home cooked snacks to the comfiest arrangements to make a cozy tent to enjoy a summer's outside overnight;

After setting up the telescope and camera, and answering your questions about how it worked, he finally showed up to you some results. And gosh, how good it felt when you two were just excitedly sharing time again, babbling and laughing like the old times;

Was showing the photo registers of the night (plus some others he did at Skyheaven) that the necklace you gave him tinkled against the camera's visor;

"You still keep it?" You asked. And of course the answer was yes, it was the solo object that kept him sane and alive in every fucking dangerous mission he went. The habit of kissing the charms was nothing but a ritual of promise to come back to you once that nightmare had ended. "Hmm." He nodded. "It reminded me of home."

You didn't need to know he used it religiously nor that he bit onto it when his mind was overflowing with thoughts of you. So he brushed of the moment of awkward silence offering you the snacks he prepared before leaving Linkon;

He knew he could have stopped by any convenience store to buy snacks. But he also knew those couldn't compete with Caleb's delicious home cooked snacks when the praise time was up. He needed those praises. Viciously;

He deserved it, right? Caleb deserves to lay his head on your lap while receiving praises of his chief skills and prodigious memory, but that time, different from past times, you two weren't just watching a science documentary at grandma's house, while Caleb's voice overlapped the narrator's one, but actually glimpsing a starry night;

However, Caleb was unsatisfied, like a puppy waiting for it's reward that didn't seem to come at all;

So he just casually laid down on your lap, both staring the stars, relaxing and enjoying the comfortable presence of each other;

And the soft lines the tip of your fingers traced on his scalp made Caleb close his eyes. The playful banter and the mumbling about constellations now replaced with his soft steady breathing;

Caleb was almost drifting to sleep when he felt a soft touch against his lips, caught by his reflex response your fingertips were kept there, soft kisses placed on your digits, drowsy eyes looking up at yours, so docile and longing yet that deepness in his eyes are hesitant still;

Caleb's eyes were always capable to say everything to you. When he was messing around and eyes slightly closed with his teasing laugh, when he was having a bad day and you could spot it right away just by looking at his droopy tilts;

But Caleb's eyes are different know, showing you a expression you have never seen before. Caleb's was supplicating;

Then you remembered the reason why Caleb used to watch astronomy documentaries resting his head on your lap: you used to say his eyes are prettier than the galaxies;

And those two universes on Caleb's eyes shinned so devotedly to you, that you didn't felt even a slightly desire to look up at the night sky again. No, no when you could dive into those particular galaxies of his. No, not when Caleb is back again, so close to you, showing, even if it was for a few perceptible seconds, his longing for you;

When you replaced your fingers with your lips, Caleb's mood changed like a switch;

He was serene and relaxed, but he got hasty really quick. Don't get him wrong, he definitely flew straight to cloud nine without even needing a plane, but god, he got conflicted;

"I'm sorry! I uhm, I didn't mean to, pipsqueak! I mean, I actually meant to but not exactly...oh fuck what I'm saying right know..." He was almost panting when he pulled away from the kiss. His head was spinning and the only thought he could bring to himself was that the kiss was entirely his fault;

He could swear you leaned first, but how could he blame you when he was devouring you with his eyes? It was his fault to be a bad-whatever-bond-are-you-two-having-right-now;

He just stopped mumbling when you pulled him by that damn dog tag, looking deep into his eyes;

Later on you discovered it was just a matter of assuring Caleb to bring his submissive side out. To make him let go;

And oh, just that pull on his necklace alone made his entire body burn. He let out a little gasp, losing his facade the moment you provoked him;

"Promise to me you will be a good boy, Caleb. Give more of what I know you want to give me, so I won't get mad at you. Can you promise that, uh?"

Next thing you learned was how hasty Caleb is, and how he doesn't seem to lose that desperation over time. The next thing after that is how good he is begging;

"Y-yeah...fuck! Pipsqueak, I promise I'll be good. I can be so so so fucking good, just for you. Won't get mad... I'll do anything to make you proud of me, yeah? Please? Just command me."

Caleb's first time with you was basically an outdoor, messy and quick sex;

Don't blame Caleb for the last one. The man came on his pants at least once even before you two got a chance to remove your clothes. It was just too much for him;

The boy was trembling, out of breath and so hungry for you. So when you watched his body spasming just by rubbing his nose against your not removed pantie alone, you couldn't believe what you're witnessing;

"Caleb? Did you just cum already?"

He would repeatedly apologize with that pussy drunk expression on his face, promising to make it up to you. Nose still buried against the fabric, eyes rolling in pure ecstasy;

And he would keep up with his promise. He turned his pleasure irrelevant, getting down on you, and finally tasting you made Caleb forget everything;

If you try to tease him about it? Oh, Caleb will want more. He's not exactly into being degraded, because he's after your praises at the end of the day. But he definitely enjoys being called out on his behaviors;

That's because he wanted to get caught by you countless times in the past. God, how he wished those perversions of his were discovered by his sweet pipsqueak. Only then he could get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, and cry and be such a pathetic lover boy;

"Oh, fuck. D-do you think I'm pathetic? Do you wanna know how many times I fantasized about this, pips? Burring my face into your underwear pretending I was eating you out? How many times I soaked your panties with my cum calling your name wishing you would see how much you make me leak?"

He would get off confessing it to you, eagerly waiting to be teased about it;

Oh, if you only knew how many dirty things Caleb did in your name. But don't worry, after your first time with him, he would confess the all one by one;

That night, you two wouldn't get sex with penetration;

That's due Caleb not carrying any condoms with him. What? Are you surprised? Caleb never carried them because he thought you would think he somehow got a situationship/girlfriend to hook up with and he didn't like the idea of you coming to that conclusion;

So he implored to be inside you to the point he almost cried, but ended up accepting a helping hand and maybe a long delicious humping session;

His brain turned off. He let be guided to you, loving to discover some of your soft spots. You could feel his slightly trembling hands, together with his needy breaths and praises while he obeyed every single command you gave him;

When he got too overwhelmed after his last orgasm came dry, you two curled up in the tent, cuddling and giggling trying to process the flood of feelings you two shared for each other;

Drifting into sleep, you two promised to figure out how the relationship would evolve from there. But now, the only thing that mattered was cuddling together under a starry night sky. You knew Caleb would move skies to fulfill his promises to you. So why doubt it when he promises he will be a good boy only for you?

satoru thought, at first, that dating someone with an oral fixation would just be a bonus. frequent blowjobs for the win!

until he's already hit the back of your throat three times that morning and you're trying to lower yourself to your knees before seeing him off at the front door. a parting gift, you call it! and god does he love the sight of your pretty lips wrapped around his fat cock but he thinks it might fall off with all this use.

he tries everything. letting you sit on a pillow under his desk as he works, so that you can warm his cock with your mouth. he thought that maybe you'd like the weight of it on your tongue enough to sit still for a while, but you can't help but twirl your tongue around his tip and start bobbing your head up and down on his length until he's shooting ropes of hot cum into your mouth.

so then he tries filling your mouth with something else. pushing two fingers between your lips when he's laid in bed with you. but (and this one is on him, he'll admit it) watching you suckle on his long fingers like you so often do on his cock only gets him hard again. he always ends up rutting into you with his fingers pressing down on your tongue anyway.

he gives up eventually and lets you have your way with him and his cock. it's not like he could ask for anything less, he's so used to your touch now that he thinks he'd die without it. plus, his body has always been at your mercy.

Crédits artist @lyrafiel7h in X

What they're like when they're drunk:

(Requested)

Zayne: I think we all already know. God, he can't stop kissing you, can't stop touching you. There's only one way this is going to end.

Xavier: He's out like a light. One moment he's drinking next to you and the next he's sleeping on the table. He might babble a few incomprehensible things.

Rafayel: We've seen him drunk too. His face gets quite red, and he turns strangely solemn and sincere towards you. Good for heartfelt conversations.

Sylus: He drinks regularly and has a high tolerance. It's rare to see him drunk. But it's easy to know he's drunk because he will be quieter, pulling you onto his lap to hold you, just staying there in silence.

Caleb: Triple threat. Clingy, blushy and prone to crying. Please get him off the floor and give him some cuddles stat.

19k gems and a dream

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Full pic on Bluesky & Twitter

https://x.com/ekaymnslvs/status/1893037977158459577?t=HZGUdjxUonw4fZcnjCFqXg&s=19