Cw — Pussy Eating, Pet Names, Caleb Is A German Shepard, Uhhh Idk What This Is. Soft Sex Soon Guys

I saw a post about puppy!caleb and I can’t get that thought out of my head. 18+ towards the end so beware. Sloppy because it’s late asf and im tired but i js had to get it out.

The hybrid that granny took in, a small timid puppy, ears perking up once your scent registered in his dumb little brain. Untill he caought your scent. Then it was over. His ears perked up, tail wagging like he’d found his whole purpose in life. And maybe he had.

Puppy!caleb who doesn’t mind laying on the floor beside your small bed as kids, placing himself between the door incase an intruder tried their luck. Ears turning to the slightest sound, growls turning louder and more threatening as he got older. Its like his insticts are wired to protect you.

Puppy!caleb who whines when you lock yourself in the shower, hands pawing at the door as he begs you to let him in. He promises he won’t peek, he just wants to be beside you.

Puppy!caleb who shoves his face into your neck once your back from work, rubbing his scent all over as he scolds you for smelling like others. He complains that the cologne and perfume of your coworkers makes his nose hurt so you should keep your distance if you don’t want him complaining.

Puppy!caleb who just wants to please you. Which is why he gets everything done around the house. Cleaning, cooking, laundry, even fixing broken house appliances. He doesn’t want some random guy in his territory, so please don’t call an electrician to fix the lights. He has it covered.

Puppy!caleb who pants once you called him a good boy. Sitting on the floor between your legs as you stay seated in the couch, his face red and eyes droopy as he begs you to call him that again. Tail thumping on the carpet as you scratch his ears. Mind hazy as his gaze stays locked on you like you’re the sun and he’s never learned to look away.

He leans into your touch, voice a hushed whisper. “Say it again,” he begs, lips brushing your knee, “please…” He lives off your praise, your softness, your warmth. He doesn’t need much—just you, always you.

Puppy!caleb who groans if you continue praising him, hips bucking into the air searching for some type of friction. The tightness of his pants becomes too much, and he’s positive that there’s a big stain on his underwear due to the amount of precum seeping out. Caleb shuffled closer as he mounts your leg, drooling as your leg touches the bulge in his pants.

Puppy!caleb who whines about needing your help. Pushing his hips against your leg to cum but it just isn’t enough. He needs to be inside you, so won’t you just let him in? He promises he’ll be so good to you. He wants to take off his pants so badly but can’t seem to do so without your command. So please wont you just let him?

Puppy!caleb who is yours to command, and his only desire is to make you proud and satisfy you.

How well do the LADs color within the lines of a coloring book page?

1 (horrendous what are you a child) - 10 (flawless get them into Harvard)

Xavier- a little sloppy, went over the line a couple of times, but acceptable; 6/10

Zayne- perfect; 10/10

Rafayel- he colors the whole page (beautifully); 138291/10

Sylus- can’t hold a crayon or color pencil to save his life, colors the whole page with only two colors; -29302/10 go back to kindergarten

Caleb- perfect; 10/10

just been thinking about how caleb loves the facts that you can’t cum without his help. i mean he’s so obsessed with you, he’s made sure he’s carved the shape of his dick into your poor pussy. fucked you so well with his fingers that it’s impossible for you to ever get off without him.

no matter how much you pinch your little clit and push your finger deep in yourself, it’s just not enough! leaves you crying with frustration because when you try, it just never feels as good as when he’s stuffing you full with his thick fingers. curling them up to prod that soft, squishy spot that makes you see stars.

it’s so unfair!! he’s trained you so well. you have no choice but to facetime him. prop your phone up against your pillow and show him your drooling pussy while crying.

He’s off in deepspace, shaking his head and looking at you sympathetically through the phone.

“poor baby~” he cooes.

he’s so fake. he’s trying to comfort you, reminding you of the last time he was in your apartment. how well he’d fucked you. describing in detail the way your body curled in on itself, how your eyes rolled back when he was grinding his throbbing dick into you.

its not helping at all! only makes you sob more. you’re begging him to come home soon so he can fuck you properly. and he promises he will. his heart hearts seeing you so sad but secretly, he loves it! can’t get enough of your begging.

it truly inflates his ego knowing he’s the only one that can get you off.

ᯓ ✈︎ the forbidden fruit's temptation

Caleb usually rents private gym space to unleash his evol during workouts; this time, he invites you along. The air feels charged, every glance and movement igniting a tension you can’t ignore. Caleb becomes an unknowing temptation, drawing you in with effortless allure. But as the intensity builds, the tables subtly turn—your desire transforms into a primal need. He remains oblivious, yet you’ve become the predator, ready to claim what you can no longer resist.

lads caleb x reader

warnings : dry humping, blow jobs, teasing, semi-public sex, doggy style, mc is a freak

6.8k words

rated : e

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62513281

A/N: I’ve realized I’m not entirely happy with what I’ve written here. After uploading it and giving it another read, I’ve found that this one isn’t my favorite. I lean more toward dominant Caleb, personally. I think it’s also because I wrote this in portions during breaks at work, so my ideas were a bit scattered each time I came back to it, and it doesn’t feel as cohesive as I’d like.

That said, I hope you all still enjoy it! Caleb is such a frustrating mix of hot, nerdy, and stupid—I can’t help but hate love him

You’re playfully swaying Caleb side to side, arms wrapped snugly around his waist, your chest pressed against his back as he fumbles with the passkey to the private gym space he rented. “How long do you usually rent these for?” you mumble, your voice muffled against the warmth of his shirt, your face nestled in the curve of his back.

“About an hour or two,” he replies, his tone nonchalant. “But since you’re here… just an hour.” The door clicks open, and he steps inside, guiding you along.

The room feels vast and almost empty. Padded floors stretch across the space, with just a bench press, a pull-up bar station, and plenty of open room. You glance around, tilting your head. “Not exactly a variety of options here,” you quip, your fingers brushing his arm as you step forward.

“When you can manipulate gravity,” Caleb says, setting his bag down with a soft thud against the wall, “you don’t need much.” He rolls his shoulders back, stretching his arms wide. His dog tag chain swings with every fluid movement, catching the light as he speaks.

Your gaze lingers on him as he moves, his confidence tangible. “How does that even work?”

“I just increase the gravitational pull,” he explains casually, gripping the pull-up bar with one hand and leaning his weight against it. “Makes everything heavier—no need for extra weights.” His lips curl into a smirk, his tone laced with pride.

Suddenly, you feel it—the subtle but unmistakable shift. The air seems heavier, your steps slightly labored as though gravity has doubled. “You started already?” you huff, adjusting your stance as your legs resist the added weight.

Caleb saunters toward you with ease, his grin widening as he watches you wobble. “This? This is nothing. I went easy on you,” he teases, his hand slipping to your arm to steady you. The warmth of his touch contrasts the firm grip, grounding you against the increasing pull. “I brought you here because I needed extra weight for my calisthenics.”

“Did you just call me heavy?” you gasp, eyes widening in mock offense as you clutch your chest dramatically.

“What? No! That’s not— I mean… it’s about gravitational force, not your—” Caleb stammers, his face flushing as his usually smooth composure crumbles. His words tumble over each other, trying to explain.

You watch him flounder, suppressing a laugh until you can’t hold it anymore. Your fingers reach up to cup his face, gently tilting his head so you can look into his flustered eyes. “Relax,” you murmur, shaking his head lightly, a mischievous grin on your lips. You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, letting it linger for a moment. “I’m messing with you.”

His tense shoulders drop, his embarrassment fading as his hands settle on your waist. His lips curl into a grin, his earlier pride returning as he pulls you closer. “You’re too easy to tease,” you add, your thumb brushing against his cheek.

Caleb leans down, his forehead resting gently against yours, his smirk playful but his eyes warm. “Careful,” he murmurs, his voice low, “teasing me might just mean you end up working harder than you planned.”

You playfully push Caleb’s chest, tilting your head as you pout. “So, what exactly do you need help with?”

“Simple,” Caleb says with a grin. “Having you sit on my back during push-ups with normal gravity wouldn’t do much since, well, you’re pretty light…”

You narrow your eyes, but he quickly raises his hands in defense, laughing. “Hey, I wasn’t done! That’s why I’m cranking up the gravitational pull. Makes it more challenging.”

“Couldn’t you just use a weight plate or, you know, ask someone else?” you counter, folding your arms and trying to suppress a grin.

“Nooo, this is the only way,” he replies, dismissing your suggestion with a casual wave. He drops to the floor, settling into position with a cocky smirk. “Sit.”

You sigh but oblige, carefully lowering yourself onto his mid-back. Adjusting your position, you rest your hands firmly on his upper back and raise your legs to avoid weighing him down unevenly. “You’re like my personal horsie,” you tease, laughing.

Suddenly, the air grows heavier again. You feel the weight pressing down on you as Caleb amps up the gravitational pull. He adjusts his stance, his body tensing beneath you as he begins his first push-up.

The motion is slow and deliberate, his arms trembling slightly as he fights the pull. He manages to push himself back up, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask, concern lacing your voice.

He doesn’t answer, his focus entirely on his rhythm. His breaths are steady but labored, his determination evident in every controlled motion.

You decide to stay silent, trusting Caleb’s expertise. This is his evol—his unique strength, his domain. He understands it better than anyone, and your interference might only distract him.

As his movements continue, his pace begins to pick up, smooth and deliberate. Your eyes wander, tracing the way his back muscles ripple with each push-up, the strain and effort becoming undeniably attractive. The sight alone has you mesmerized, but then you feel yourself slipping slightly.

Instinctively, you adjust your position, shifting your weight to sit more securely on his back. The movement causes an unexpected sensation—a jolt that catches you off guard. You pause, confused, but the lingering warmth in your lower abdomen doesn’t go away. Trying to dismiss it, you subtly sway your hips again to readjust, hoping to find a better balance. But instead, the feeling intensifies, spreading through you in a way that leaves your heart racing.

You glance down at yourself, trying to figure out what’s happening, but Caleb’s sudden grunt makes you snap your head back up. For a moment, you panic, wondering if he’s noticed, but his focus remains entirely on his push-ups. He doesn’t seem to have a clue.

Your mind races as you try to remain still, careful not to make your movements too obvious. Whatever this feeling is, it’s building, and you can’t seem to stop it. Caleb shifts his shoulders slightly, rolling them to readjust his stance, completely unaware of the effect his every move is having on you.

You lean forward, resting your upper body against Caleb’s broad back. Your arms are planked on either side of his shoulder blades, offering you support, while your legs hold firmly to his sides. You wonder fleetingly, What if Caleb catches me? But the thought is quickly drowned by the sensations coursing through you.

Tentatively, you let your hips roll against his lower back, testing the movement. It’s subtle and faint, and you’re careful not to disrupt his rhythm. Yet, the motion aligns perfectly with the pace of his push-ups, each rise and fall pressing against your core in a way that’s almost maddening. It’s unintentional on his part, you’re sure, but it feels dangerously close to something deliberate like he’s unknowingly bouncing you against him.

You let out a soft sigh, quickly muffling it by burying your face in your fists and biting down on your thumbs. The friction is faint but electric, teasing at something deeper, more primal. You rock your hips again, just barely, enough to feel the heat in your body rise.

Caleb’s breathing grows heavier but he doesn’t pause or acknowledge your subtle movements. He’s so focused, his body working against the increased gravity, that he’s oblivious to your growing tension.

Your fists press harder against your lips as you continue to move in time with him, the rhythm pulling you deeper into your world, each roll of your hips stoking a fire you’re desperately trying to contain. “Mmnh..” you sigh, quickly covering your mouth hoping Caleb doesn’t hear you. The feeling coursing through you is impossible to ignore. Caleb wouldn’t mind you indulging in this moment—not that he’s even aware of what you’re doing. Slowly, you sit back up, your breath hitching as you adjust yourself. Sliding your hips slightly back, you arch your spine, positioning yourself perfectly. Each subtle movement of your body against his sends a jolt through you, hitting exactly where you crave it most.

Your head falls back, a bitten lip barely stifling the choked giggle escaping you. It’s a mix of sweetness and sin. You let your hips roll faster, rougher, unable to resist chasing the friction. “Faster…” you murmur breathlessly, though Caleb misinterprets your plea as encouragement for him. His pace quickens, his push-ups becoming more forceful. You lower your head, biting back the noises that threaten to give you away, even as the intensity pushes you closer to unraveling.

Your hand grips his shirt tightly while the other drifts down, grazing over your thigh until it reaches the damp heat between your legs. Pressing against yourself through the fabric of your skort, you’re consumed by the warmth and the humid evidence of your desire. The rhythm of Caleb’s movements against you, paired with your own touch, ignites something feral.

A low, husky giggle escapes you, rich with temptation. Memories flood your mind—Caleb’s hands on you during late nights, his lips marking you during stolen moments in cars, the way he claims you without hesitation. Your free hand moves to your chest, massaging yourself before tracing up to grip your own neck. Your fingers mimic his touch, a tease of past pleasures that makes you ache for more.

“Don’t stop… faster,” you moan, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

Caleb obeys, increasing his pace again, oblivious to your true meaning. The sudden, harsher movement catches you off guard, and with no solid grip to steady yourself, you slip. The high gravitational pull amplifies the fall, and you hit the floor with a harsh thud.

The impact jolts Caleb, and he immediately stops. He’s over you in an instant, concern etched into his features. “Hey!” he calls out, one hand cradling your cheek while the other quickly checks for injuries. “Are you okay? Was that too much?”

Your body still hums with need, and you laugh lightly, brushing off his worry. “Sorry, I was having fun up there,” you tease, your voice dripping with lingering lust. “Let me get back up.”

But Caleb presses you back down gently, his hand firm against your chest. “I’d rather you stay here for now,” he says, his tone protective but soft. “With the gravity in this room, that fall could’ve hurt you.”

Before you can argue, he adjusts himself into a plank over you, his body hovering close. His eyes meet yours, a flicker of something more in his gaze. “Let’s not have that happen again,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, grounding you in a moment both tender and electric.

The tension in the room is electric, and every movement of Caleb's body over yours fuels the fire simmering within you. His focus is unwavering, his gaze locked straight ahead as he holds his plank. His dog tag swings gently, brushing against your flushed face, a teasing sensation that makes your breath hitch. His lower abdomen hovers just above yours, so close you can almost feel his heat seeping into you. When he shifts to a forearm plank, his body dips closer, his sides grazing yours. Back and forth, regular planks to forearms, the friction, though subtle, is maddening.

Your breathing grows heavier, and your chest rises and falls as you fight to stay composed. Caleb remains oblivious, his sharp features and disciplined posture implying control. You lick your lips, closing your eyes to let your imagination take over.

You picture the Caleb you know in private—the one whose body feels like it was sculpted for your hands, for your lips, for your pleasure. Every detail of him flashes through your mind: the way his skin glistens when drenched in sweat from relentless nights together, how his veins pulse against your touch when he’s deep inside you. You imagine his hands gripping your thighs or binding your wrists, keeping you close as he claims every inch of you.

“Gah… fuck,” you groan softly, the memory and the sensations overwhelming you.

Caleb suddenly pulls back, his face mere inches from yours, his nose almost brushing against yours. “Hey, are you okay? Is the gravity too much?” His voice is rich with concern, his brows furrowed as he studies your face. “You’re flushed.”

You shake your head, desperate to regain control. “Can we do glute bridges?” you blurt out, the words rushed and panicked. You need distance—anything to keep yourself from unraveling completely beneath him.

Caleb blinks, slightly confused. “Glute bridges? That’s not part of—”

“Please!” you interrupt, your voice a little too eager.

He shrugs and rolls off you, lying flat beside you. The space between you offers little relief, but it’s enough for now. Both of you bend your knees, feet flat on the padded floor, arms at your sides with palms facing upward. Slowly, you both raise your hips in unison.

You look at Caleb, at how his hips rise and fall. He’s focused, and disciplined as always, and his movements are precise. But your mind wanders again, conjuring images of you straddling him. You can almost feel the way his hands would grip your hips or wander to your breasts. You picture the way your body would move in perfect sync with his, your back arching, hair falling into your face as he pulls it aside to kiss your neck.

Your fists clench at your sides, and the ache in your core is unbearable. Without thinking, your hand drifts down once more, grazing over your skort. You press against the fabric, the friction a fleeting relief that only deepens your longing. Your imagination spirals, and you imagine Caleb losing his composure, pinning you down, and taking you without hesitation.

Your movements become bolder, your fingers rubbing against the damp fabric as your breaths grow heavier. You bite your lip, muffling the soft moans that threaten to escape. Turning your head toward Caleb, you’re startled by what you see.

His hand is… inside his pants, his movements unmistakable. The rhythm matches your own. Your eyes trail up, locking onto his face. His intense gaze meets yours, and it’s clear—he’s been watching you the entire time.

The air is thick with tension, and neither of you utters a word, your heavy breathing and the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You’re the first to act, letting instinct take over. One hand stays between your legs, teasing and fueling your desire, while the other reaches for Caleb’s hand, guiding it toward you. Without hesitation, you slip his hand inside your skort, pressing it against your soaked center.

A low moan escapes his lips, his eyes darkening as he feels your warmth. “All this… because of me?” he murmurs, voice tinged with awe and lust.

“Shh,” you whisper, your tone commanding yet laced with seduction. You guide his fingers, showing him exactly how to move, how to make you tremble.

The silence in the room is deafening, broken only by the sounds of your ragged breaths and the wet, rhythmic squelch of Caleb’s fingers exploring you. His other hand remains frozen at his side as if he’s trying to process the shift in power.

Your gaze shifts momentarily, focusing on the far wall as you try to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensations. But when your eyes return to Caleb, his expression shifts—his usual air of dominance is replaced by something raw, something vulnerable. His fiery gaze tells you he’s ready to take charge, to flip this moment back in his favor.

But before he can move, you act. You grab his wrists and pin them down, catching him completely off guard.

His eyes widen, and he exhales sharply. “You’re not supposed to move that fast under this level of gravitational pull,” he says, his voice shaky but tinged with admiration.

You don’t respond. Your hair falls in wild waves over your shoulders as you loom over him, your breath uneven, your pupils dilated. Slowly, you tilt your head up, meeting his eyes with a look that’s both predatory and seductive.

In this moment, you’re no longer the one following his lead. You are ravenous, insatiable, and unyielding. Caleb’s strength, his power, his evol—it’s not enough to hold you back.

He seems to sense the shift completely now. His hands slide up to your waist, his touch firm but reverent. “Tell me what you want,” he murmurs, his voice husky and low, his composure beginning to crack under the weight of your dominance.

Your lips curve into a wicked smile, and you lean closer, your voice a sultry command. “Listen. Obey. Do as I say.”

Without breaking eye contact, you lift your shirt, exposing your bare chest. Your hands trace over your breasts, teasing them, pinching just enough to make yourself gasp. Caleb watches, his mouth slightly parted, his breathing growing heavier.

His eyes flicker between your face and your body, drinking in the sight of you like a man starved. The roles are reversed, and he knows it. His beloved—once pliant, obedient, and at his mercy—has become the one issuing commands, the one drawing him into the depths of temptation.

“Good boy,” you purr, leaning in closer, your lips brushing against his as you hover above him. “Let’s see how well you can follow orders.”

You shift your position, grinding against the firm bulge beneath you, the friction sending waves of heat through your body. A soft laugh escapes your lips, followed by a gasp as you whisper breathily, “God, you’re so hard.” Your rhythm is unrestrained, each motion rough and desperate, an outward display of your insatiable craving.

Leaning forward, your breasts are now inches from Caleb’s face, fully in his view. His eyes, wide and pleading, glisten with unspoken need. He looks at you like he’s teetering on the edge of surrender, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Keep your hands on my waist,” you command, voice low but firm. “Only on my waist. Don’t move them.”

He nods wordlessly, his restraint palpable, his grip tightening against your waist. You feel his fingers press into the fabric of your skort, his nails threatening to pierce through as he struggles to maintain control. His breathing grows heavier, and soft, choked whimpers spill from his lips.

“Mm… ngh,” Caleb groans, his head tipping back slightly, his composure unraveling.

Your movements become more fervent, your body moving with a raw need to release the tension building within you. Each grind against his clothed erection sends jolts of electricity through your core, and soon you’re teetering on the brink.

Your head tilts back as you moan loudly, surrendering to the intense wave of pleasure washing over you. The explosion of sensation leaves you trembling, but you don’t stop. Instead, you grab Caleb’s dog tag, pulling it sharply as you shift your position. Caleb adjusts instinctively, sitting up slightly as you reposition yourself between his legs.

You recline against the floor, your body stretched out flatly, arms draped above your head in a teasing display of submission. Caleb’s hands remain glued to your waist, his knuckles white from the intensity of his grip. His eyes roam hungrily over your exposed upper body, drinking in every inch of you. He’s utterly captivated, his gaze locking onto your every expression as you shamelessly use him to continue your pleasure.

Without warning, one of Caleb’s hands slips from your waist and moves to your chest. His large palm covers your breast, his fingers kneading with a mix of reverence and desperation.

You slap his hand away with a sharp motion, and your gaze snaps to his, fierce and commanding. The silent message in your eyes is clear: not yet.

Caleb freezes, his hand retreating immediately as his jaw tightens. There’s a flash of something feral in his eyes, but he obeys. He leans back slightly, swallowing hard, his chest heaving as he fights against his instincts to reclaim control.

The tension between you is electric. You smirk, satisfied by his submission, and grind against him once more, savoring the way his body reacts beneath yours. “Good boy,” you purr, your voice dripping with lustful authority, “Now climb over me…”

Your hand presses firmly against Caleb's chest, the warmth of his skin radiating into your palm. "You can only hump," you murmur, your voice thick with amusement, daring him to test the boundaries you've just set. "You can't fuck me."

The air between you is filled with a charged silence, his sharp intake of breath breaking it like a snap of static. His lips curl into a subtle, annoyed smirk as his eyes darken, frustration pooling in their depths. “I don’t demand this much,” he mutters, voice laced with a quiet defiance.

“What was that?” you tease, cocking an eyebrow as your nails lightly graze his skin.

“Nothing,” he bites back quickly, his tone clipped, betraying how close he is to unraveling.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Caleb adjusts your legs, draping them around his waist. His grip tightens on your thighs as if grounding himself, and when he starts to move, his hips roll with unrestrained desperation. The friction of fabric against the fabric, the heat of his body pressed into yours—it’s maddening. His face flushes, a shade deeper with each thrust, his control slipping further away.

You pull him closer, your arms snaking beneath his, fingertips digging into his back. “That's it,” you whisper against his ear, your breath warm and coaxing. "Lose yourself a little more."

His head dips and your noses brush before his lips crash into yours. The kiss is wild, uncoordinated, all hunger and no finesse—a kiss born of need rather than thought. Caleb kisses as if he’s been starved, as if the power you hold over him is suffocating, and the only way to breathe is to taste you.

His movements grow erratic, each thrust harder, needier. The friction has him teetering on the edge, and you feel the subtle quake in his body as he tries—and fails—to keep composure.

Abruptly, Caleb breaks the kiss, his breathing ragged as he stares down at you, his pupils blown wide with desire. Without a word, his hands grip your legs and pull them away from his waist, his touch possessive, his intent clear.

Before you can question him, his mouth is on you again, this time lower. Through the fabric still separating you, he buries his face into the apex of your thighs, inhaling deeply like he’s losing himself in you. His nose grazes against you, his tongue darting out to taste what he can, his growl of frustration rumbling against you as the barrier taunts him.

"Let’s make a deal," he says suddenly, voice thick with agitation. His lips hover, brushing against the sensitive spot he can’t quite reach. "I’ll take care of you with nothing but my tongue. You know how good I am at that, how much you love it when I devour you."

He sits back on his knees, his hands now in his pants, stroking himself as his gaze locks on yours, heated and desperate. "Let me make you feel like you’ve ascended the stars,” he murmurs, his voice trembling, both a plea and a promise.

As he continues to nuzzle his face against the delicate fabric of your skort, rubbing his nose in a deliberate, circular motion, you feel a jolt of pure electricity. His nose presses insistently against your clit, teasing the sensitive peak, sending shivers down your spine. He licks at the fabric, teasing, tormenting, honing in on the sweet spot that makes your knees weak.

You try to resist, to push him away, but your body betrays you. Your muscles tremble, your breath hitches, and a moan threatens to escape your lips. You're drowning in a sea of sensations, every nerve ending screaming for release. The fabric, once a comforting barrier, now feels like a cruel tease, a maddeningly thin veil between you and the full, unbridled pleasure you crave.

Just as you feel yourself slipping, losing all control, you find the strength to act. Your leg shoots out, your foot connecting with Caleb's forehead with a surprising force. He stumbles back, a look of bewildered frustration on his face, his eyes wide and unfocused.

"Nooo," you say, your voice husky with a mixture of amusement and warning. You get on all fours, the cool floor a welcome contrast to the burning heat within you. The air crackles with unspoken desire, the gravity of the moment thick and heavy. Caleb watches you intently, his eyes glued to your swaying hips as you move towards him, a predator stalking its prey.

You crawl slowly, deliberately, your movements a slow, sensual dance. Each inch you cover seems to heighten the anticipation, the tension building to an unbearable crescendo. Caleb watches, mesmerized, his hand tightening around his pants, a desperate attempt to contain the burgeoning erection straining against the fabric.

"How about I fully remove my top," your voice a seductive whisper, "and use my breasts to massage that erection you can't seem to control?" You pause, letting the suggestion hang heavy in the air. You watch as his Adam's apple bobs, his throat working as he swallows hard. You can almost hear the primal growl deep within him.

"Or perhaps," you continue, a playful glint in your eyes, "I could use my mouth. I rarely indulge you in such a manner, it would be a shame to waste the opportunity."

The words hang heavy in the air, a tantalizing promise of things to come. Caleb groans, a low, guttural. His eyes are dark and intense, filled with a raw, primal desire. "Fuck," he breathes, his grip on his pants tightening, his body trembling with the force of his arousal.

You chuckle, a low, throaty sound that echoes through the room. "And before you cave," you tease, your voice dripping with honey, your eyes locked with his. "I'll let you have your way—just for a few precious moments."

As you crawl toward Caleb, the atmosphere is charged with an undeniable tension that seems to thrum between the two of you. Every movement you make is deliberate, and calculated, and it sends a shiver of anticipation through the space. The game is on, and though Caleb might not admit it, he's surrendered to your lead.

You close the distance until he's backed against the bench. With a slow, predatory smile, you see him raise himself onto the seat, his knees parting slightly as if inviting you into his space. His eyes lock onto yours, unblinking, darkened with the weight of his desire. You revel in the moment, knowing you've got him right where you want him—completely at your mercy.

Reaching for the waistband of his shorts, you take your time, your fingers brushing against his skin just enough to send electricity through him. Slowly, you slide them down, exposing the bulge beneath his underwear. Your confidence unwavering as you lean in, letting your lips hover mere inches from the strained fabric.

You begin with the gentlest of touches, your lips pressing teasingly against his erection, the fabric adding a tantalizing layer of separation. Caleb's head tips back as he releases a low, guttural sound, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The power shift in this moment is undeniable—he's completely at your mercy, and you know it.

With a soft giggle, you trace your tongue along the length of him, the heat radiating through the fabric almost scalding against your lips. His dick twitches beneath the thin barrier, a silent testament to the effect you're having on him. Each soft kiss, each feather-light lick, drives him closer to the edge.

Finally, you hook your fingers into the waistband of his briefs and pull them down, freeing him completely. His dick springs to attention, hard and ready, and you take a moment to admire him. Caleb, always so composed, looks utterly undone, his chest heaving as he meets your gaze with a mix of need and adoration.

He reaches out, his fingers tangling gently in your hair, guiding it away from your face. His voice is soft but commanding as he whispers, "Come up here for a second." Obediently, you rise to your knees, leaning in as he places two soft kisses on your lips. The gesture is tender, and intimate—a ritual between the two of you that speaks volumes.

When you pull away, Caleb’s grip on your hair remains firm but not forceful, a reminder of his presence and desire. You lower yourself again, your lips hovering just above his dick. Starting at the base, you let your tongue glide upward, slow and carefully. The light touch is barely there, more a tease of your breath and warmth than anything else, but it’s enough to make his body jerk in response.

A broken whimper escapes his lips, his voice barely audible as he murmurs, "God…" His restraint is fraying, unraveling with every flick of your tongue and every teasing kiss.

You smile, savoring the way his body reacts to your every move. You avoid the head of his dick, purposefully keeping your touches light and lingering along the underside, just enough to make him shudder beneath you. The control is intoxicating, and you relish every moment of his quiet surrender.

As your lips glide over the sensitive head of Caleb’s dick, you tease him with gentle suction, swirling your tongue in slow, deliberate circles. His sharp intake of breath is a symphony to your ears, and the low, strained sigh that follows makes your pulse quicken.

His grip on your hair tightens, the pressure both commanding and intimate, urging you to keep going. You slide your tongue down the underside, savoring the way his body reacts to every touch. Without hesitation, you take him deeper into your mouth, letting his length sink into the wet heat of your tongue and lips.

"Ahh, fuck," Caleb whimpers, his voice shaky and raw. His hand presses against the back of your head, not forcefully, but with enough insistence to hold you in place.

You fall into a rhythm, your mouth working diligently as you hollow your cheeks, creating a firm yet supple pressure. Caleb’s quiet groans and labored breaths spur you on, each sound proof of his unraveling. As your hands join in, massaging the base of his dick, you glance up to see his expression. His teeth are buried in his bottom lip, and his head is tilted back, eyes locked on the ceiling.

You attempt to lift your head, seeking a reprieve to catch your breath, but Caleb’s hand prevents you, his fingers weaving tighter into your hair as he mutters, "No… not… not right now…" His voice is low and breathy, carrying an edge of urgency.

Confused, you push past the feeling, letting curiosity gnaw at the edges of your mind. You continue your motions, his restrained responses both intriguing and frustrating. The tension builds as you take him deeper, your throat protesting as your gag reflex kicks in. The need for air becomes undeniable, but Caleb’s hand remains firm, holding you in place.

Desperate, you dig your nails into his thigh, the sharpness of your touch a silent plea for release.

“Hsss…” Caleb hisses, his gaze snapping down to meet yours with a flicker of discontent in his dark eyes.

Finally, he lets you pull away, your lips flushed and slick with saliva, his length glistening with the evidence of your efforts. You wipe at the corner of your mouth, searching his face for answers.

“What’s wrong?” you ask softly, your voice laced with both concern and confusion.

“Nothing,” Caleb replies, his tone flat, his gaze drifting back to the ceiling. The disconnect is jarring, his usual intensity replaced by something distant, as though his mind is somewhere far away.

The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words. You tilt your head, studying him, unsure whether to press him further or let him process whatever storm is brewing within.

As you adopt a mock pout, your voice drips with feigned disappointment. "You don’t like what I’m doing? Then I’ll just fuck myself, then."

Caleb's sigh is low and exasperated, but there's an unmistakable heat beneath it. "No. Not you," he mutters, his tone carrying a weight of possessiveness.

Gripping his length firmly, you brush it against your lips, letting the silky heat of him glide against your skin. "So, what is it, then?" you ask, spitting lightly on him and watching as the moisture glides over his dick. Your eyes flicker with fascination at the sheer size of him, marveling at how your body manages to take him in.

Before you can tease further, Caleb’s hand tightens in your hair, urging your mouth back onto him. The motion is commanding, but his groan as you obey is laced with pleasure. "I forgot… mmnh… about the cameras in here," he says, his voice breaking into a husky laugh.

The thought lingers, an illicit undertone in his words. "To think… someone could be watching you while I’m here… tsk, tsk," he groans, his hips arching forward.

He pushes himself deeper, his dick hitting the back of your throat as you struggle to take him in. You gag, swallowing reflexively, your nails digging into his hips for leverage. Caleb’s breath hitches as you tighten your grip, the pressure sending shivers through him.

Finally, you pull back, gasping for air, your lips flushed and wet. But before you can gather your thoughts, Caleb grabs you roughly by the neck, pulling you close. His lips crash against yours in a searing kiss, his hands cupping your face tightly as though he never wants to let go.

"I can have my way now… right?" he murmurs, his voice a rough whisper against your lips.

You nod, breathless and pliant, surrendering to the intensity of his gaze.

In one swift motion, Caleb pushes you to the floor. The impact is softened by your hands and knees catching you, but the air between you crackles with raw anticipation. You feel him drop to his knees behind you, his hands already tugging your skorts down with a fierce urgency.

"No one else is allowed to see you feel good," he growls, his voice low and feral, each word vibrating with possessive hunger.

You're taken aback by the stark shift in Caleb's demeanor, but deep down, it doesn't surprise you. If there's one thing about Caleb, it's that he’s possessive. No one is allowed to have you, see you, feel you, touch you, kiss you, or even dream of you—you are his.

Without warning, Caleb thrusts himself into you, and the sharp intensity of it pulls a moan from your lips. He grips your hips, pulling you even closer as if he can’t get deep enough. You instinctively arch your back, your body adjusting to him, but his commanding voice cuts through the haze.

“Keep your head on the ground,” he demands.

His movements are rough and erratic, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. It’s overwhelming—pain and pleasure mingling in a way that has you craving more. The ache from his earlier unintentional teasing only heightens the sensation of finally having him inside you. Caleb leans forward, his body pressing against yours. His lips brush over your shoulder, leaving heated kisses in their wake, and one of his hands finds yours, interlacing your fingers.

“I…” he grunts, his voice strained, “…wanted you to have your… ha… moment, fuck,” he growls, his words cutting off as his hips pick up speed.

The urgency in his movements isn’t just about his desire; it’s as though he’s determined to end the voyeur’s show as quickly as possible.

“Let… them,” you manage to moan, your voice trembling with pleasure. “Let them watch… ahhh.”

Caleb responds with a sharp thrust, his intensity knocking the breath from your lungs.

“Let them see… nnngh… that… you own me,” you groan, saliva slipping from your lips as your climax takes hold.

His laugh is deep and guttural, vibrating through you. “I like that,” he says, his voice low and full of satisfaction.

In a swift motion, Caleb flips you onto your back and pulls out. Without missing a beat, he begins stroking himself, his hand working quickly. You lift your legs and rest them on his shoulders, reaching for him, guiding him. Together, you watch as his release spills over your lower abdomen, painting your skin.

Caleb’s damp hair clings to his forehead, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. You don’t wait long before throwing yourself into his arms, your lips crashing against his in a messy, desperate kiss. He cups your face, gently pulling your shirt down to cover you as if to shield what’s his.

But then, he pauses, his gaze shifting to the camera in the corner of the room. “Yeah… I’m gonna ask them for a copy. Have them delete theirs,” he says casually, though there’s a quiet threat laced in his tone.

You try to stand, but your legs wobble beneath you, threatening to give out. Caleb is quick to catch you, steadying you in his strong arms.

The room’s gravitational pull shifts back to normal, the weight of the moment settling over you both.

“So… watching me work out makes you hot?” he asks, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips as he pulls his pants back up.

“You were practically humping me,” you retort, rubbing your thighs, still trembling from the aftermath. “This is your fault. My legs are numb…”

He laughs, the sound rich and unbothered. “I didn’t even do much work. Probably my evol’s fault,” he teases, scooping you up bridal-style before setting you gently on the bench. “Stay there for me, will you? I think we’ve got about 20 minutes left in this room.”

You settle onto the bench, your legs parted slightly, the evidence of your shared passion glistening on your skin. You trace a finger lightly over your sensitive area, the sensation still making you shiver.

“Hey…” Caleb’s voice calls out, sharp but amused. “Don’t get any more ideas. Not until we’re home, alright?”

The mood between you is tense, your body humming with a desire that refuses to wane. You bite your lip, your mind already plotting for the next round. Next time, you think, you’ll finish on top, taking charge and making him beg. But for now, Caleb still owns that spot, his dominance leaving its mark on every inch of you.

Your hands trail downward, brushing against your chest and grazing the sensitive skin of your thighs. The warmth of your touch stirs something deep inside, and you can’t help the quiet moan that escapes your lips. “Caleb…” you whisper, the sound low and needy, your hips swaying subtly against the bench.

Your body’s not finished. Not yet. It craves more, every fiber of your being yearning to feel him again. You try to suppress it, to mask the raw hunger threatening to consume you, but your efforts are futile. A sigh escapes, and with a playful smile that betrays the urgency in your voice, you murmur, “I think… we should go home now. Work out there.”

Caleb’s gaze snaps to you, his eyes widening with a mixture of shock and intrigue. “More?” he breathes, his voice dipping into that rich, low tone that makes your skin prickle with anticipation.

You lean forward slightly, your fingers brushing against your thighs as if coaxing him closer. “You can take control…” you whisper, your voice trembling with want. Your eyes lock with his, daring him to deny you. “I just want you.”

For a moment, Caleb simply stares at you, his chest rising and falling as if he’s trying to steady himself. But the flicker of desire in his eyes betrays him, and you can see the tension building in his body. He steps closer, his hand reaching out to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, and he smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Careful,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a warning. “If we start now, you might not make it home.”

You press your lips against his thumb in a silent challenge, your hips shifting again, your body pleading for his touch. “Then don’t stop,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, but it’s enough.

His composure cracks, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips firmly as he presses his body against yours. The bench beneath you creaks in protest, but neither of you cares. You’re lost in the moment, in the heat, in the unspoken promise of what’s to come.

“Home,” he finally mutters against your lips, his voice rough and commanding. “Now.”

But even as he says it, his hands linger, his lips brushing against yours, teasing, tempting, and leaving no doubt that this is far from over.

caleb x mc 🤗

oh my my my!

caleb x fem!reader wc: 1.027k (the nctzen in me is screaming) cw: caleb is insane, cunnilingus, pet names (princess, pipsqeuak), caleb has endless stamina again, fat cock caleb, cock-drunk reader, mating press, slight breeding kink, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, unrealistic sex lol, i did not mean to write this much actually, not edited!

TIME: 11:12 PM LOCATION: SKYHAVEN, CALEB'S APARTMENT: LIVING ROOM

...what did he say? all you did was confront caleb about why the two of you haven't had sex yet, but what did he just say?

"my... penis... is too big." he mutters shyly, a blush spread across his cheeks and ears paired with an expression you've never seen on his face before. you stare at him, mouth agape. you take a moment to to process what he said before stifling a laugh, making caleb frown even more.

"that's it?"

"i'm being serious! i don't want to hurt you."

you smile at him with a sigh, a bit relieved that was his answer. you place a kiss on his cheek that he grumpily accepts, pulling you close to him.

"sounds like you're just going to have to do a better job at prepping me then," you smirk, a hint of mirth in your voice. the look in his eye changes, arousal pooling in his irises.

"is that a challenge, pipsqueak?" he cocks an eyebrow, pulling you closer to him by the waist, "i'm just not sure if you can handle it."

"is that a challenge?" you glare at him, suddenly feeling yourself get competitive too. it's not like you were going to lose, right?

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

TIME: 1:39 AM LOCATION: SKYHAVEN, CALEB'S APARTMENT: YOUR BEDROOM

you were, however, indeed losing.

you blink past the stars that caleb was making you see. it's been about 2 hours since he started eating you out, his licks and bites relentless. he gives one last harsh suck to your clit before pulling away, looking at the art he's created.

you're shaking, your pussy became puffy thanks to his ministrations, and there are countless bites and marks around your thighs.

"looks like you bit off more than you could chew, hm? princess?" he kisses your temple, caressing your hair and arms to calm you down from your nth orgasm.

"can... still take more..." you mumble, gripping onto his shirt, frustrated that he's still clothed while you were stripped naked. you feels his hands drag against your arms, your abdomen, before reaching just above your mound.

"you sure? we still got a bit more before you can actually fit me." he warns, his fingers dangerously close to your entrance. you nod, but he ignores it. "words, baby, need you to say it out loud for me."

"mm—" you moan, feeling his fingers graze your clit, "i... i can take it! just fuck me already!"

he plunges two fingers into you and you cum immediately, squirting onto his palm. his hands were big, you knew that, but they were reaching places you couldn't manage to touch yourself.

"fuck, you're so wet," he groans, sucking another mark onto your neck as he fucks his hand into you, "maybe i don't need to do this—maybe you can fit me like this."

he takes his fingers out and you whine, trying to pull him back in. he ignores you, using his other hand to hold both of your wrists above your head as he licks his essence off of his fingers, not wanting to waste a single drop.

he unbuckles his belt swiftly, letting his cock spring out, the tip angry and leaking with precum. it's drenched with its own cum because he couldn't hold back, your moans and whines were enough for him to climax without being touched—if only you knew the effect you had on him. he presses his cock against your entrance and you shudder at his size, suddenly unsure if you could really take it. you try to shy away, scooting your body away from him when he catches you, caging you in his arms as he pins you down.

"aw, don't tell me you're scared now?" he laughs, being uncharacteristically mean. he pushes the tip of his dick a bit further into you, slowly stretching you out with a groan.

"if you can't take it anymore, you just gotta say the word." you glare at him, yanking on his arm to pull his face closer to yours.

"i already said 'fuck me!'"

"as you wish," he smirks, "gotta give my girl what she wants, hm?"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

TIME: 3:54 AM, YOU THINK. LOCATION: SKYHAVEN, YOU THINK. YOUR BEDROOM... YOU THINK.

you're on all fours, trying to get away from caleb as he pounds you mercilessly, his cum spilling out of your cunt and pooling onto the sheets. his cock is so, so big, you think you're cumming with every thrust, but you're not sure. you don't know how many times you've cum tonight, but you do know that he's made you pass out a few times.

"c-can't... can't..." you cry softly, the pleasure too much for your poor pussy to handle.

"say the word, then. then we'll be at 1 - 0." he taunts, "do you even remember the word, baby?"

you gulp down a sob, nodding while humming weakly as he slows down his thrusts to give you the chance to speak.

"i-i—" you stutter, your mind hazy with cock, "caleb—"

"my name isn't a safeword," he chuckles, "it's Linkon, okay?"

you nod and he smiles sweetly, kissing your forehead before tossing you onto your back, slowly pushing your thighs up and into a mating press.

"just a bit more," he kisses you again, starting up his thrusts once more, "just one more and then it'll be your win."

he resumes the pace he had before, the sound reverberating throughout the bedroom. it's almost animalistic, the marks and bites all over your body, the way your pussy can't even hold in his cum anymore—it's almost like he's trying to breed you, trying to make it stick. you cum weakly, squirting a bit as your eyes roll back. at this point, it's not just stars you're seeing, you can see the entire deepspace tunnel thanks to him. he feels the way your cunt convulses around him and he grunts, unable to stall any longer and he fills you up one last time. his cum floods your womb and spills out, only adding to the mess below you two.

"i guess it's 0 - 1 now. too bad i lost," he says with a smile.

oopsies... caleb u r my muse... also the safeword line has been all over my tl so i couldn't help but implement it! showed up at the perfect time :3

also i actually do not have any ideas on good safewords to use for the men... if yall wanna send some my way in my ask so i can use them in future fics !!!!!

caleb x fem!reader

you and caleb used to play fight a lot, but things are different now that you're older

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, fauxcest, dry humping

a/n: um hehe just a small drabble cause i've been thinking... also i like the pipsqueak thing idgaf kiss me about it. imagine this takes place when she’s staying with him.

"isn't this around the time you'd usually cry mercy, pipsqueak?" he breathes, his smooth voice warming the air next to your ear.

a small grunt escapes you as you try to lift your arm to shove him off. your effort is pointless though. his grip tightens around your wrist, and he brings your limb back down to the floor without much effort.

“caleb, quit it!” you whine.

he just laughs at you. his body doesn’t move away an inch. he stays right where he his, hovering over your smaller frame.

the two of you used to play fight all the time as kids. you’d squabble over the remote or your toys. whiny arguments would morph into a small scuffle, a test of wills. so it felt natural today to lunge at him when he held the book you wanted to read just out of reach. getting physical made sense. you’d been so agitated with him keeping you here, you needed to blow off some steam. it just didn’t feel so good when reality set in as he wrestled you down to the floor like always.

“it’s not funny,” you say and try to jam your knee up into his abs.

he dodges the move and continues to smirk at you. “maybe not to you. but it’s pretty funny from up here. pretty cute too,” he teases.

you scowl, squirming some more. in your younger years, you’d always been able to fight back a little. you’d lose in the end, sure, but victory had been in reach a few times. now, caleb is stronger. he’s bigger, and he doesn’t fight like a scrappy high school kid but rather someone with training. you’re starting to realize you have no chance now, and part of you wonders if you ever did. or maybe he’d been going easy on you.

as if to taunt you, he slides your arms up above your head and grabs both your wrists with one hand. even with his other one free, he keeps you pinned with the same amount of force. it’s fucking humiliating. you feel your cheeks starting to heat up as he drags the back of his fingers along your jaw, cooing at you.

“you always used to get so angry like this too. so frustrated. you’d think you would’ve learned not to start fights you can’t win,” he mocks.

his thumb comes to sweep along your cheekbone, back in forth in slow strokes. he stares into your eyes while he does, almost studying you. it gets you heated for a whole other reason you don’t even want to acknowledge.

“get off of me,” you squeak, your voice much less aggressive now.

“maybe i will if you beg enough,” he taunts, “if you use your manners and say please like a good girl, i’ll consider it.”

“shut up!” you say. you kick a few more times and buck your hips to try and get loose.

in response, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams it back to the ground. you let out a little growl, assuming you’ll have to restrategize. but then he pushes his pelvis down on top of yours.

you gasp. all the fight leaves you in a harsh blow because now, unlike any of the other times you play fought with him, you feel a solid bulge pressing between your legs.

your eyes widen, and you sputter. you’re sure you look totally stupid right now. but you don’t know what else to do. there’s no question about it. he’s got a boner, and he’s rubbing it right up against you.

“i told you. you’re not gonna win. might as well surrender,” he says. he speaks in a completely even tone, as if nothing is different.

“c-caleb. what are you doing?” you start, “don’t be weird.”

“i’m not being weird,” he defends with feigned innocence, “we always used to mess around like this. what’s got you all shy now?”

you know why he’s asking. because he knows you won’t say it. the answer is so easy, yet you can’t bring the words to leave your lips.

“you know what,” you whine softly.

he chuckles and leans in even closer to your face. “maybe i do. but i don’t think that it’s weird. we’re not kids anymore. you can’t whine and wriggle around like that and expect me not to react,” he murmurs.

your heart beats harder in your chest. you can feel every thump. before you can say anything in return, he grinds his hips again, rolling his hardened length right up against you. and this time, it feels good.

“i- caleb- we can’t,” you whimper, biting your lip.

“we can’t? we can’t what? we’re not doing anything,” he says before grinning at you, “it doesn’t count if it’s over the clothes.”

you want to smack him, but both your arms are still immobile.

“it’s still weird. we’ve never- i don’t see you like this,” you insist, though the last statement is a complete lie.

he tsks and shakes his head before pushing his erection between your legs for another time. this one draws a whine out of you. his hips jump forward at the sound, but he doesn’t let his face show that burst of desire.

“what do you see me like then?” he whispers.

silence fills the air between the two of you as you fail to answer. you know what you see him as. you know your crush on him goes back years. you know what fantasies fill your head at night when you’re alone.

but you also know how you want to see him. what you’re supposed to see him as. what you’ve tried to limit his role to for so long.

“it’s ok,” he finally says, “i won’t make you say it if it’s that hard. but i know you like this. i know you, remember?”

he grinds against you again, but this time it’s not only once. now he sets himself into a rhythm, consistent swings of his hips against your center.

“i know when you’re happy, when you’re sad, when you’re ashamed,” he says, “i know when you want something, but you’re too scared to ask.”

ducking in, he kisses your neck. you moan in response, putting no effort into suppressing the noise now.

“that’s right, princess. your big brother knows you better than anyone, doesn’t he?” he coos mockingly.

“caleb!” you whine. you internally cringe at both titles, but outwardly, your face still contorts with pleasure.

“what?” he laughs, “that’s what you were gonna say before, wasn’t it?”

“but i didn’t,” you whimper.

“but you thought it, and it’s all the same to me,” he teases.

he refocuses his mouth on your neck again. his lips move over the column of your throat while his cock continues pressing right on your pussy. it feels better by the second. maybe it’s because he’s kissing your neck too, you’re not really sure. all you know is the hot, sparkling feeling in your stomach is building.

nipping at your pulse point, he then sucks on the skin like he wants to leave a mark. his tongue laves at it for a few moments before he pulls off.

“i’m gonna let go of your arms. you’re gonna behave, ok?” he mumbles against your skin.

“mhm,” you whimper and nod. the overt submission feels pathetic, but losing the feeling of him would be even worse.

“good girl,” he praises.

he keeps his word and releases his hold on your wrists. the air feels cool on your skin that’s all warmed up from his hands. now with his other arm in use, he can snake one around your ass and boost your hips. the new angle allows him to thrust against you harder.

“fuck, baby,” he grunts. you feel his lashes brush your neck as his eyes flutter.

your arms loop over his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. more little mewls spill from your lips. you can feel his stiff length sliding right up against your folds through your clothes. every swipe brings a blissful burst of friction to your poor throbbing clit.

“there you go. i got you. big brother’s got you,” he mumbles mindlessly. he chokes out a moan into your shoulder as his hips move like they have a mind of their own.

your body starts to squirm more. that hot feeling inside is reaching a boiling point. you clutch at his shirt, your nails digging in so hard they threaten to tear the fabric. the constant push and pull of his lower half is nearly hypnotic. it seems like you’ll be under him forever while also on the brink of letting go.

after a few moments more, he pulls back to look at you. his eyelids hang low, heavy with his desire for you.

“god, you’re so pretty. so fuckin’ beautiful now,” he says and presses his forehead to yours. his eyes shut while your breaths mingle. “i knew you wanted this too. just look at you. almost falling apart, and i haven’t even really touched you. i knew no one else could do this better.”

all you can do is whimper softly and cling to him harder. you pull on him as if trying to pull him into your body, to meld your two beings into one. the pressure down below feels dull and muted, but it’s blooming nonetheless.

“yeah… you’re gonna cum all over your pretty panties,” he mutters, “get ‘em all nice and wet so i can have some fun with ‘em later.”

“caleb…” you whine, useful words falling out of your grasp in this moment. one of your hands flies up and laces in his hair. your fingers clench into a fist, giving the strands a sharp tug.

he groans and bucks his hips extra hard. “c’mon. cum for me, baby. let me make my sweet little angel cum,” he murmurs.

it really doesn’t take much to get you there. the friction burn he’s rutting you both into works, and you feel yourself hit the high. euphoria rushes through you. a little breathy whine erupts from your lips. your back arches off the floor, but he keeps you cradled against him securely.

the whole time you’re cumming, he’s still humping you like his life depends on it. it’s when you start to come down, that he finally explodes. he buries his face in your neck, letting out the loudest moan you’ve heard so far. his arms tighten up around your frame as his fingers dig into your malleable flesh.

his hips jolt forward in random twitches now, chasing the last remnants of release while he spills inside his pants.

when he’s done, his breaths are harsh and labored. he nuzzles the crook of your neck before kissing your cheek and receding off your body. his palm runs over his face lazily.

“fuck, i gotta change now,” he says, not bothering to look down at the dark patch at the front of his pants.

without even really thinking about it, you reach forward for the waistline. you’re already craving more of him. but before your hand can get there, he takes your wrist.

“not so fast, pipsqueak. i think you should actually beat me before i let you have the real thing,” he smirks.

caleb notices everything about you.

the little light that shows up in your eyes when you’re in a good mood, the playing with your fingers when you’re about to ask for a favour, and the slight tremble of your lips when you’re about to cry.

he notices it all, which is why he’s immediately pulling you into his arms when the tears begin to fall. he cradles you gently, whispering sweet comfort through the kisses that are pressed against your temple.

“it’s okay, princess. i got you.”

you cling onto him, the tears halting as drowsiness starts to take over. he rubs his hand on the small of your back as you quietly drift off to sleep. caleb doesn’t move an inch, caressing your hair as he lets out a quiet breath at your peaceful state.

his touch continues to linger on your skin, and you unconsciously lean into him. his heart goes thump, thump, thump… relishing in your warmth regardless.

he admires you. he sees you.

caleb loves you, he says to himself. there is really no other for him than you.

caleb is the biggest advocate of happy wife = happy life.

in the morning, he waits for you to wake up so he can attack your face with kisses. he starts by smoothing out your hair, poking at your cheeks, and running his fingers across your lips.

your giggles are worth missing that extra hour of sleep anyway.

he plants kisses on your cheeks, forehead, nose, and finalizes with a brief kiss on your lips, leaving you to rush in for one more. and who is he to deny his wife?

okay—technically—his girlfriend. but still.

after your slow morning, caleb decides to take you out for lunch. he holds you close when you walk; his arm is wrapped around your shoulder the entire time. when he feels you lean into him for more (of his body warmth, but he doesn’t have to know that), caleb explodes. he probably runs hotter after that too.

he leads you through grocery stores (“do you think we need this for the fridge?”), flower shops (“caleb, i think this would look great on our dresser”), and the tire shop (“pipsqueak, you really need to get these tires fixed. good thing you can always rely on me, though!”).

you browse for things to make his apartment more homey. he looks for items to stock your (our—as caleb likes to say) fridge with. you joke and bicker and hide your heads when you get stares from older ladies for being too loud. you’ll laugh about this when you get home.

later, for dinner, caleb decides he’ll cook for you at home with the groceries he bought today. he made a new special tonight: some kind of pasta with chicken.

and no matter how many times you insisted on helping, caleb used his evol to push you back onto the couch. but, when you snuck over to him and grabbed his waist, he surrendered. any reasonable man would. how could he not surrender when you nuzzled into him, begging him to let you do something.

at dinner, he cut up your chicken and fed you until you started making pregnancy jokes. what a dream that would be, caleb thought.

then, at night (probably 10pm), you two start heading to bed. caleb hops in the shower with you (“could this be my reward for cooking for you today?”) and runs his hand through your hair; shampoos and conditions it; rubs body wash all over you; and rinses you off.

you repeat the same actions to him, except you like to mess with him ten times more. you rub soap everywhere, but you paid special attention to his abs. and biceps.

though, caleb didn’t say a single thing. he had to fight back the urge to smirk when your hands rubbed up and down his arms. this might’ve been heaven for him.

when you got out, you asked (begged) if you could shave for him. caleb had been growing a bit of stubble, and you’ve always expressed your interest in shaving him since he started growing hair.

so he props you up on the bathroom sink, standing in between your legs while you carefully run the razor up and down his jaw. you’re so gentle with him—much gentler than he usually is when shaving himself.

your fingers prod all over his jawline and cheeks. your featherlight touch sends sparks all over his face, and he can’t help but break out into a smile (even when you scold him). scratch what he said before—this is heaven to him.

when you’re done, you analyze his face as if he’s a sculpture. you trace your fingertips down the slope of his jaw; the high rise of his cheekbones, and over his lips for fun. he playfully tries to bite your finger before you swat at him.

the two of you brush your teeth, and you already know caleb will be bumping hips with you throughout the whole process. what should take two minutes turns into ten—with both you and caleb messing with each other by tickling, pinching, or hugging.

once you two are in bed, your face is pressed into caleb’s chest. he rests his chin on top of your head, and you feel his breaths coming down on you. when you look up at him with glowing, love-sick eyes, caleb presses kisses all over the top of your head.

you angle yourself up slightly, and caleb perks up eyebrow in suspicion. even in the dark, caleb can tell you’re smiling when you push yourself up and kiss him on the lips. it’s a deep kiss: one where you’re thanking him, trying to please him, and loving him all at once.

caleb is on you instantly, with one hand holding your face and the other cradling the small of your back. he puts all of the energy he has left into the kiss, before pulling away and slumping his head on the pillow like a love-starved dog.

“thank you. for today,” you murmur, inching yourself closer to him. “i appreciate everything you do for me,” you press one more kiss onto his lips before you fall into the hands of sleep, “i love you, caleb.”

oh yeah, caleb thinks, happy wife, happy life.

i wrote this in 30 mins can u tell

also idk what’s up w my borders im writing this on my phone so they’re a bit janky loll sorry

no thoughts head empty Ko-Fi