You tap your fingers against the sheet of paper, considering your options. The only way to get out of this whole thing would be to request reassignment, but that was unlikely to happen, and you weren’t about to sacrifice both your pride and dignity. 

Instead, you turn to ruminating about the many methods with which you could murder Caleb without getting court-martialed. You’re too distracted to hear the laughter in the hallway and the footsteps approaching you. There’s an arm slinging over your shoulders, the weight of it making you stiffen as you’re pulled in close to the man’s side. 

“Hey, pipsqueak.”

“Caleb,” you greet coldly, glaring up at him. 

Caleb grins down at you, leaning in close. “Saw the eval sheet,” he murmurs, clicking his tongue, “my condolences.”

You shove him away roughly with a grunt. “I don’t need your condolences, asshole,” you snap, finger pushing into his chest, his neatly pressed uniform beginning to crease under the pressure. “I’ll be running you and your jet into the ground.”

“Ouch,” he drawls, rubbing his hand over the spot where you had poked him. “Always so mean. Keep glaring at me like that and you’ll get wrinkles. Won’t do you any good to end up uglier than you already are.”

Your fingers twitch at his insult, teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from shouting at him.

“You won’t have to see me for much longer,” you announce, crossing your arms over your chest. “After today, the Colonel will be so impressed that she’ll have no choice but to give me a promotion.”

Caleb snorts, his head cocking to the side as he leans against the board lazily. “This is an eval, pipsqueak. Promotions aren’t handed out until next month.”

You let out a heavy breath, shifting on your feet agitatedly. “It’s either me or you,” you say pointedly, shoulders shrugging. “And as much as I hate to admit it, you’re the one with an advantage here.”

He rolls his eyes, his fingers brushing across his uniform to fix the creases. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with me being a military brat?” he offers, raising his brows.

“Fuck you,” you reply, brows furrowing, “you’ll get all the fucking recommendations you need because daddy’s in charge.”

You flinch when his hand slaps the wall next to your head, your gaze meeting his as he boxes you in against the wall. Caleb’s eyes are dark, and you smile smugly, relishing in the fact that you were still able to get under his skin.

“What?” you whisper, rocking up onto your toes, “can’t handle it? You’re not pulling the strings around here, Lieutenant. Your dad is.”

Caleb’s jaw clenches, and you swallow harshly when he leans closer, feeling his breath fan across your face as he speaks. “Is that why I’m the best in class?” he murmurs, his head tilting. “Hm?” He leans in closer, and you jerk back when his nose brushes against yours. “Is that why you lose to me in the air every single time? Can’t even fucking lock onto me without blowing an engine, pipsqueak.”

A harsh breath of air escapes you when he brings that up, eyes narrowing venomously. You consider lashing out, clawing into his stupid uniform that seemed to never hold a crease until you drew blood. Instead, you look away, lips pursing for a brief moment before you look back up at him. Caleb smiles down at you, his eyes dark and sharp, and you think about how nice it would be to drive your fist into his stupidly perfect face.

“I hate you,” you say finally, averting your gaze. “You’re insufferable, inconsiderate and a piece of shit,” you continue, teeth grinding together, voice hardening. “Now get the fuck out of my face, Caleb.” 

Caleb scoffs sharply, his expression twisting into a sneer. But he does as you say, stepping back to give you space. Your lip twitches as you sneer back, boots echoing through the hallway as you walk away. You don’t get far, his fingers curling around your wrist to tug you back.

“Reccommendations are an incentive,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. “I’ll be Captain soon. I suggest you start practicing how to address me.” You wince when his fingers dig into your wrist harder. “Show some fucking respect, yeah?”

Your fingers flex, jaw working as you try and process the sheer audacity of the man standing before you. The darkness in his gaze has you fighting the urge to reel back, your skin prickling with uneasiness as he stares down at you unnervingly. He’d always been like this – calculating, vicious, a threat – from the moment you’d stepped foot onto this base.

Pulling away now would only admit defeat, and so you steel yourself, brows raising with feigned nonchalance as you tamp down the anger festering inside of you. He stiffens when you step closer, and you smile sharply, your lips brushing against his ear in a low, venomous hiss.

“Earn it.”

You pull back soon after, not bothering to glance at his expression as you shake your wrist free, storming down the hall to your dorm. You feel hot, cheeks flushed with anger as your hands curl into fists, boots kicked off unceremoniously before you flop down onto your bed. A muffled scream leaves you as you bury your face into the pillows, fists coming down against the sheets until you realize how far under your skin Caleb’s gotten.

Several minutes pass as you stew in your anger, face nuzzling into your pillow as you frown, lamenting the fact you’d been assigned to this base from the beginning. Once you’ve managed to gain some semblance of control, you sit up with a heavy exhale, eyes fluttering shut as you mentally work through the components of the evaluation. 

The knowledge based test was where you could gain the upperhand. You’d studied the assigned chapters inside and out, had made enough flashcards that even Tara had complained about the overflowing pile of colored cards on your desk. Aerial combat was where you fell short. Sure, you were a good pilot – second only to Caleb – but the way Caleb handled his jet was vastly different.  

Limits didn’t seem to exist to him, and if they did, he broke them. You’d seen him fly, seen him execute complex maneuvers that had left even the most experienced flight instructors stunned. Caleb was reckless, but in a controlled sort of way that never failed to leave you off-kilter when you were in the air with him. 

You jolt when the speaker blares through the dorms, announcing that testing was due to begin. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mumble, stumbling around your dorm as you pull your boots back on, fixing your uniform in the mirror. You frown as you smooth a few stray hairs back into place, adjusting your bun until you’re satisfied.

Eyes fluttering shut, you take a few deep breaths, reminding yourself of what was at stake. Shoulders rolling back, you gather your things before stepping out of your dorm. 

You roll your eyes when you see who’s waiting in line to enter the testing room. Caleb doesn’t seem to notice as you step up behind him, so you take the opportunity to let your gaze trail over his broad shoulders with mild interest.

The military didn’t exactly encourage relationships, but you’d heard the various rumours floating around about Caleb. Besides, it wasn’t hard to miss the blushing faces and hushed whispers whenever Caleb strode past. It irked you, the fact that everyone else couldn’t see how completely insufferable the man standing in front of you was. 

Your lips purse in annoyance. If he wasn’t such a pain in the ass, he’d be nice to look at. You ogle Caleb’s shoulders and back for a little longer, gaze dipping down to his waist for a brief moment before your eyes snap up when he turns around to face you. 

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Caleb drawls, crossing his arms over his chest, “should I turn back around so you can keep staring?”

“Yes, actually,” you shoot back, “then I wouldn’t have to look at that.” You gesture to his face with a look of disgust. For a moment, you think you see mirth flickering in his gaze, but it’s gone before you can be sure.

“Well,” he muses, stepping closer, “we both know that’s not true. You like glaring at me too much to stop.” 

“That’s sweet,” you coo mockingly, clutching your chest, “you pay so much attention to me. I’m honored, really.”

Caleb rolls his eyes, his gaze flitting back when the line starts to move. You raise your brows when he turns back to you, head tilting away when he leans in to whisper. You know better than to take his words for anything but a threat.

“I’ll see you in the air, pipsqueak.”

–

The tarmac is swelteringly hot.

You adjust your flight suit, face twisting with discomfort as another current of hot air blows into your face. There’s a few flight instructors huddled together and you sigh, wiping at the sweat beading across your forehead, before tugging your sunglasses down to dim the bright glare of the sun sweeping across the tarmac. 

Caleb’s nowhere to be seen, and you’re grateful for the reprieve. The test had been easy enough, and you’d been able to answer most of the questions without a hitch. An exasperated sigh escapes you as the flight instructors continue to deliberate, and you move under the wing of your jet, seeking shade.

“Plan on blowing another engine today?”

You jolt at the sound of Caleb’s voice, losing your balance for a moment before straightening out.

“What is your problem?” you ask snappily, swatting his hand away when he runs it along the side of your jet. “Don’t touch her.”

He sighs exasperatedly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you ever not wound up?” he retorts, rolling his eyes. “I’m just having a little fun, pipsqueak.”

You stare up at him, brows furrowing in annoyance. “You said you’d see me in the air, asshole. I bet you’d love to see me go down in flames.”

“Yeah, well maybe then you’d be outta my hair,” Caleb says, shrugging noncommittally. 

Your expression twists, an irritated noise escaping you. When he tries stepping closer, his arm brushing against yours, you jerk back, slamming your boot down onto his. You watch with amusement as he winces in pain, crouching over to grab at his foot.

“Oops,” you offer innocently, smiling at him smugly when he glares up at you.

“Real funny,” Caleb mutters under his breath, his hand shooting out to grab yours.

You frown, trying to pull your hand free, but he’s pulling you closer, forcing you to step back until you’re trapped between him and your jet.

“Have you lost your mind?” you hiss, trying to peer around his side to see whether the flight instructors were watching. “We’ll both get penalized for– for fraternizing!”

“Fraternizing?” Caleb snorts, stopping you from moving, one of his hands slipping down to settle on your hip. “Relax, would you? The last thing I want to do is fraternize with you.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” you scoff loudly, shoving at his chest, trying to get the attention of your instructors. “Get off of me–”

“Hey,” Caleb snaps lowly, catching your wrists in his hand. “I said relax, pipsqueak.” 

“Is this some kinda fucking joke?” you snarl, squirming in his grasp. “You spew all that bullshit about showing respect and now you’re–” you suck in a sharp breath when his grip tightens, “you’re sabotaging me!”

He lets out a heavy breath, stepping closer until his tall frame blocks you from being seen. You blink up at him with wide eyes – part scandalized, part aggravated – a shriek beginning to claw its way out of your throat until he groans and slips his hand over your mouth, effectively muffling the sound.

“Listen up,” he murmurs, pushing your sunglasses up until they sit on your head. “I’m not sabotaging you, okay?” Caleb stares down at you, his head tilting. “I just thought I’d give you some tips… to make it a fair playing field.”

You stare up at him blankly, blinking slowly as you process his words. He looks uncharacteristically… genuine, and the sight unnerves you so much to the point that you thrash violently until he reluctantly lets his hand slip from your mouth. 

“You have lost your mind, haven’t you?” you murmur, nodding vigorously, “I mean, I figured one day the lack of oxygen up there would get to your brain but apparently–”

“I thought you wanted to be promoted,” Caleb interrupts, his voice sharp, “I’m giving you a leg up.”

“Why the fuck would I want a leg up from you?” you retort, raising your brows incredulously. “You– you threatened me, and– and now,” you gesture at him wildly, “you want to play fair?”

“Maybe I’ve had a change of heart,” he hisses, glaring down at you. “Maybe I think that you’re one of the best fucking pilots I’ve ever seen and that maybe you deserve that promotion.”

You clamp your mouth shut at that. Caleb averts his gaze, his jaw clenching as he steps back. It takes a few moments for you to understand what he’s saying, what he’s offering to you. 

“Do I come across as pathetic to you, Caleb?” you murmur, stepping closer to him. Your cheeks grow hot with anger when he avoids your eyes. “Hey,” you snap your fingers in front over his face, “over here, asshole. Answer my question.”

It’s a terrible idea, really, but you’re far too irritated to worry about whether anyone’s watching or whether you’ll get penalized for this. Your fingers curl into Caleb’s flight suit, yanking him towards you until he’s forced to meet your gaze.

“No,” he says finally, his lips thinning, “but I know you well enough to know that the moment we’re in the air, you’ll do whatever it takes.”

“And how exactly is that a problem?”

Caleb lets out a dry laugh, leaning back. “You push too far and you’re gonna get yourself killed, pipsqueak. You blew an engine last time because you went too hard, too fast.” His fingers brush over yours, his skin warm and calloused as they drift over your knuckles before he pries your hand off of his flight suit. 

He narrows his eyes, and you swallow harshly when he stares down at you so intently, you’re almost sure that he can see right through you. You don’t know what he’s playing at, don’t know whether he’s saying all of this to try and get into your head. Despite it all, you know well enough that you can’t trust Caleb.

“You’re reckless,” you breathe out, “even more so than me. Are you telling me I can’t push my limits?”

Caleb shrugs, leaning against your jet. Your eye twitches at the action, hands clenching into fists at your sides. 

“Yeah, well…” he trails off, his gaze flitting behind you. “I know what I’m doing, pipsqueak.”

There’s a barrage of insults sitting on the tip of your tongue, the heat around you and your own anger putting you further on edge. You have half a mind to slap him, but the flight instructors are calling out your names, so you settle on saving your energy, standing at attention as one of the instructors reads out his checklist.

“Alright,” the instructor announces, playing with his clipboard. “The hard deck is set at 10,000 feet, do not go below it. Play it by the book, I don’t want to see any aerial maneuvers that haven’t already been approved – I’m looking at you, Lieutenant Xia.”

Caleb states his assent and you fight the urge to roll your eyes, shifting on your feet instead.

“Finally, make the right decisions,” the instructor glances at you and Caleb pointedly. “I don’t wanna see any half-assed heroic bullshit up there. Anything goes wrong with your jet, you eject. Is that clear, Lieutenants?”

“Yes, sir,” you and Caleb say in unison, before saluting the instructor.

He nods in approval, before nodding towards your jets. You suck in a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before you exhale, trying to calm your nerves as you settle into your jet. 

You do a quick check of the controls, nodding to the technician standing by once you’re satisfied. The sound of your jet’s engines helps calm you, and you hum to yourself, flicking a switch in front of you to close the canopy. 

It seals into place easily and you glance outside, huffing out a breath when you see Caleb’s jet taking off.

“Asshole,” you grumble under your breath, fingers tightening around the flight control stick.

Static flickers in your ears for a few minutes, your instructor’s voice crackling through the earpiece. 

“All clear for take-off, Lieutenant. Have fun up there.”

That makes a small smile tug at your lips.

“Copy.”

–

You don’t blow an engine.

You don’t even go below the hard deck. 

But you do lose.

Your flight suit rumples as you tug it off roughly, letting it drop to the floor. You’re hot, sweaty and embarrassed. You’d spent the first half of the fight trying to lock onto Caleb, and the second trying to evade him. 

All he had needed was a sliver of an opening and he’d taken it, maneuvering his jet until he was behind you and the kill alarm had glared in your ears. The locker rattles as you slam it shut, an irritated noise leaving you as you wipe the sweat from your flushed face, now dreading the fact that you had to see Caleb’s stupid, gloating expression.

It’s precisely why you decide to avoid him, poking your head out of the changing room to make sure the hallway was clear. You dart out, quickening your pace as you make your way towards your dorm, Caleb nowhere to be seen.

A relieved sigh leaves you when you make into the safety of your dorm, forehead pressing against the door as your shoulders sag in defeat. 

“Should’ve taken the leg up.”

You jerk against the door, turning around to see Caleb sprawled out on your bed, his teeth sinking into an apple.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap, “how did you even get in?”

“Your roommate,” Caleb supplies, sitting up as he takes another bite out of his apple. “Think she might be a little scared of me.”

“Get out,” you hiss, pointing at the door. “I don’t what you’re playing at, but sneaking into my fucking dorm is a whole new low, Caleb.”

“Don’t you want to congratulate me?” he croons, standing up. You frown when he steps towards you, inching back until your desk digs into your lower back. Caleb holds out his half-eaten apple. “Wanna bite, pipsqueak?”

You don’t know why he’s so intent on testing your patience. You snatch his apple from him, tossing it into the trash can beside your desk. “Does that answer your question?”

“So you’re unhappy,” Caleb surmises, his head tilting. “You shouldn’t be. You did well out there.”

“Oh,” you say, giving him a wide, exaggerated smile that makes your cheeks burn, “is that right? Wow! Thank you so much, Caleb. That makes me feel much better.”

“Okay,” Caleb rolls his eyes, stepping closer until his hands land on either side of you. “No need to be so bitey, pipsqueak. You’ll get that promotion.”

“Fat chance,” you retort, “I embarrassed myself out there.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Caleb murmurs, his fingers reaching out to play with your dog tags.

One of his fingers hooks into the chain, using it to tug you forward. You go willingly, peering up at him, confusion flickering across your face. 

“Did you want to fuck me or something?”

The words spill out of you before you can stop yourself, and there’s a strange flush tinging Caleb’s cheeks and the tips of his ears when he registers your question.

“Wasn’t expecting that out of you,” he says, sounding oddly choked as he lets go of your dog tags.

You raise your brows.

“No– what the fuck? No,” Caleb snaps, his gaze flitting away, “why would I want to fuck you?”

“Okay,” you say slowly, “good. Then get the fuck out of my dorm.”

Caleb stiffens for a moment as though frozen in place. He opens his mouth until he decides to swallow whatever it was he was going to say. 

You shove at his back, pushing him out of your dorm. The door nearly shuts, but Caleb’s hand catches onto the edge. His head pokes inside and you narrow your eyes irritatedly.

Caleb grins down at you. “Is that your way of asking me to fuck you, pipsqueak?”

You slam the door shut in his face.

–

A few weeks later, you find a letter on your desk.

You aren’t addressed as Lieutentant, but rather… Captain.

You stare at the letter blankly, skimming through it with disbelief as you read that you have, in fact, been given a rank promotion. It shouldn’t be possible, you think to yourself as you read the letter over again, and then once more, twice and three times over.

There’s a knock on your door, and you find a Captain standing outside. “Colonel’s asking for you,” he offers in explanation when he sees your expression.

“For what?” you ask, your grip on the letter tightening.

“Your promotion,” he says, glancing down, “you did get the letter, didn’t you?”

“I– uh–” you stumble over your words before nodding, showing him the letter. “Yes, I did.”

The Captain offers you a smile. “Congratulations.”

You feel faint when he leaves. There’s not enough time to panic, so you settle on fixing your hair and uniform, finding a random piece of candy to chew on whilst you wait outside the Colonel’s office.

“Come in.”

You step inside, closing the door behind you quietly. The Colonel looks as intimidating as ever, her eyes sharp as she watches you step towards her desk. You straighten out as much as you can, keeping your shoulders level. 

“Congratulations, Captain,” the Colonel announces warmly, pushing your certificate and rank insignia towards you.

“Thank you, Colonel,” you say, offering her a smile of your own as you take the items. 

“I was rather impressed with your performance during the evaluations,” she continues, clasping her hands together, elbows resting on her desk.

“You were?” you ask, flushing lightly until you realize how high your voice has gotten. “You were,” you clear your throat, “I see. Thank you.”

“Yes, well, the recommendations were a nice touch,” she muses, “I must say I was surprised when I saw the letters on my desk.”

Your brows furrow in confusion. You hadn’t submitted any recommendations. There was nowhere stating that you had to provide recommendations. All you’d submitted was the performance report given to you by your supervisor. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, shifting a little closer. “What recommendations? I thought promotion to the rank of Captain was performance based.”

“Oh it is,” the Colonel replies breezily, peering up at you as she stops rifling through the papers on her desk. “Lieutenant Xia,” she explains when she sees your expression. “He pulled the letters of recommendation from all of your instructors.”

Caleb Xia.

Caleb fucking Xia. 

You try and school your expression into one of neutrality, before giving up and forcing a tight smile onto your face.

“But he’s a lieutenant,” you blurt out, fingers twitching at his sides. “He doesn’t have the clearance or– or the authority to go around doing that.”

“I misspoke,” she says, her head tilting. “Lieutenant– I really should say Captain Xia has also been promoted. He was very insistent about your promotion and given who his father is, well…”

You watch as she trails off, teeth gritting together. He was pulling the strings, that conniving, little– 

Your stomach churns only a moment later, fingers beginning to tremble. Without the recommendations… What if that was the reason why…? The pit in your stomach grows, carving itself deeper and deeper, dragging your cheeks down, forcing your lips to thin. 

“Would I have been promoted regardless?” You sound breathless but blunt, heart clenching in your chest uncomfortably.

“As I said,” the Colonel says, “they were a nice touch, but your performance report was entirely sufficient for promotion, Captain.”

A relieved breath escapes you, shoulders sagging. “Thank you, Colonel.”

“Of course. You are dismissed.”

You nod, giving her a salute before stepping outside, jaw clenching. You stare down at the certificate and rank insignia clutched in your hands. You were going to kill Caleb. 

Storming through the hallways, you peruse the men’s dorms until you find Caleb’s, knocking on the door impatiently, boot tapping against the floor.

When the door opens you find Gideon standing before you, his brows raising in amusement and towel in hand. “Can I help you?”

You ignore his question. “Where is he?” you ask, poking your head inside, glancing around. 

“You don’t know?” Gideon muses, slinging his towel around his neck. “Figured you would, since you two are always hanging around each other.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you say exasperatedly, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Nothing,” Gideon replies flippantly, although his gaze travels over you thoughtfully. 

“Are you checking me out?” you snap, glaring up at him, irritation prickling along your skin.

“What?” he laughs, his head tilting. “No. Give me a little credit, yeah?” He stares at you for a bit longer, mumbling something under his breath that sounds suspiciously similar to “Caleb would kill me.”

“Well, where is he?” you press, growing antsy. “Give it up, Gideon.”

Gideon grins, crossing his arms over his chest. “Still surprised he didn’t tell you,” he shrugs, “Caleb’s gone home for the holiday break. He lives close to base though, you know, with his dad being the General and all.”

“I need his address,” you sigh. “Please?”

He hums, disappearing into his dorm before he returns with Caleb’s address scrawled onto a piece of paper.

“Thank you.” 

“Try not to chew him out!” Gideon calls from behind you as you leave.

–

You ring the doorbell for about the tenth time.

For a moment, you almost consider breaking in, but that wouldn’t exactly put you in the good graces of the General, not to mention you’d lose your newly earned rank.

The sound of someone grumbling inside makes your ears prick up, and the door swings open, revealing a shirtless Caleb. It’s not your fault, you tell yourself as your gaze drops down immediately, taking in his firm chest and abdomen, tongue darting out to wet your lips involuntarily when you see the sweatpants slung low on his hips.

“Pipsqueak,” Caleb greets, leaning against the doorway, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I wasn’t planning on coming,” you reply, pushing past him to step inside, taking your shoes off.

“Haven’t seen you out of uniform in a while,” Caleb says, his dog tags clinking between his pecs distractedly. “You look… nice.”

You ignore his attempt at a compliment. “Are you really going to play dumb?” you ask, head tilting.

“So you know.”

You wait for him to elaborate, raising your brows and throwing up your hands, but all he does is stare at you.

“I didn’t ask you to help me,” you snap when the silence grows too loud. “I don’t need your fucking help, Caleb! My performance was enough for the rank promotion!”

“I was doing you a favor!” Caleb snaps back, his eyes narrowing. “Yeah, your performance was enough, even I fucking knew that!”

“So why send the letters?” you hiss, stepping closer to him, your finger prodding into his bare chest. “Huh? Doesn’t sound like you thought I was good enough, Caleb.”

His throat bobs and you’re distracted by it for a moment, hand jerking back when you feel how warm his chest is.

“I said you deserved it,” Caleb murmurs, his voice low. “I was just… guaranteeing it.” 

A sharp scoff leaves you as you begin to pace, cheeks hot with anger. “You are just so full of yourself!” you grit out, pointing at him accusingly. 

“What do you want me to say?” he snarls, stepping towards you. “That I’m sorry? Is that what you want to hear?”

Your hand is swinging out before you can stop yourself. It connects with his cheek, the sound sharp as his head snaps to the side. Your palm stings as redness blooms across Caleb’s cheek. 

“There,” you say hoarsely, “that’s what I wanted.”

His jaw clenches when his head turns to look at you. You take a step back when he begins stalking towards you, stumbling on the rug on the floor. Caleb catches your wrist before you can fall, but you’re too wound up to shake free, instead using your free hand to slap him across the face again.

“Okay,” he breathes out, both of his cheeks now reddened and flushed. “Okay. You got anything else you wanna get out?”

“Yeah, actually,” you begin, glaring up at him. “Stop calling me pipsqueak, I have a name and you can–”

A muted squeak escapes you when his hands slide over your cheeks to cup them before he’s drawing you closer, pressing his lips against yours. You freeze, going limp in his arms when Caleb presses closer, the force of his lips growing more insistent until he pulls back.

You blink up at him slowly, lips parting in disbelief.

“Stop yelling at me,” Caleb murmurs, his nose brushing against yours. “You can slap me, but you can’t yell at me.”

“What?” you ask hazily, leaning into him when he kisses you again, his lips brushing over yours fleetingly. “You got a kink for it or something?”

“Maybe,” he says, his lips drifting across your skin to kiss the corner of your mouth. “You’re mad, I get it. And I shouldn’t have done what I did, without asking you.”

“I hate you,” you murmur, frowning when he pulls back until you realize what he’s doing – what you’re doing.

“That’s cute,” Caleb sighs, running his hand through his hair. “But I really, really want to kiss you.”

“Stop trying to distract me from the fact that you’re an insuffera– mmph!”

Caleb’s lips are slotting over yours again and you try to move away, only for his arm to slide around your waist, pulling you into him.

“Shut up,” he whispers against your lips. “I told you not to yell at me.”

Your eyes narrow at his words, fingers hooking into the chain around his neck, dragging him closer.

“Never thought you’d have a crush on me, asshole,” you hiss, gaze dropping down to his lips.

“I could say the same about you,” Caleb muses, his eyes boring down into yours. “Think I wouldn’t notice all that staring down at the base? You look like you’re in love whenever I’m in my flight suit, baby.”

“Fuck you,” you spit, hand swinging out to slap him again.

Caleb tsks, his hand wrapping around your wrist to stop you. He grins down at you, the glint in his eyes feral enough to have your thighs pressing together, an ache beginning to grow between them.

“Save that for when you’re riding my cock,” he murmurs, “for now… ‘m gonna kiss the shit outta you.”

You flush at his words, heart thudding in your chest. He leans in closer, fingers slipping under your chin to tilt your head towards him. “Is that okay?” Caleb whispers, his head dipping.

“I hate you,” you shoot back, close to sounding like a broken record. You press closer all the same, arms wrapping around his neck before you rock up onto the tips of your toes and press your lips against his.

Caleb groans, and you whine back – unable to help yourself – as he slips his hands under your thighs, lifting you up. He kisses you hungrily, lips working against yours feverishly as your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging at the soft strands.

And Caleb does kiss the shit out of you. You can hardly breathe, but it doesn’t matter, not when his lips are working against yours so earnestly, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, coaxing you to open up. You arch under him when he places you onto his bed, legs wrapping around his waist tightly, ankles locking together. He presses closer, warm fingers sliding over your skin to cup your jaw as he holds you in place, licking into your mouth like a man starved.

You mewl when his tongue tangles with yours, eyes opening hazily when Caleb’s lips drift to the corner of your mouth. His grip is rough, and you squirm under him when his fingers dig into your hips through your shorts, hard enough that you think you can feel the bruises beginning to bloom.

“You’re so pretty,” he breathes out, lips dragging along your jaw, “you know how hard it is to not pop a boner when you’re being mean to me?”

“‘m mean because you’re fucking annoying,” you whisper, grabbing his jaw to guide him back towards you, kissing him again.

Caleb smiles against your lips and you find yourself smiling back, letting his lips slot over yours more firmly as he kisses you deeper and deeper, until you’re gasping for air and writhing underneath him.

“Am I being annoying now?” he asks, pulling away, his fingers pushing at your shirt until he’s able to tug it up over your head.

“I don’t know,” you muse, your head tilting as he stares at your bra intently. You bite back a smile, reaching back to undo the clasp before tugging it off and tossing it to the side somewhere. “Are you?”

He lets out a heavy breath, and you squirm when he licks his lips, watching as Caleb’s gaze latches onto your bare breasts. “Fuck,” he groans, leaning closer, eyes roving over every inch of your chest. “What the fuck– pretty, pretty fucking tits, baby.”

“Thank you,” you hum, arching your back teasingly, pushing your breasts up into his face just enough so that one of your hardened nipples grazes his lips. Caleb’s tongue darts out before you can stop him, a sharp, strangled noise escaping you when his mouth latches onto one of your breasts, tongue swirling around your nipple and areola. 

You whine, fingers slipping back into his hair, hips bucking up in desperation. Caleb groans against your breast, his hand coming up to play with your other nipple. He rolls the hardened bud between his fingers, pinching lightly before tugging. Your eyes roll into the back of your head when he opens his mouth wider, trying to suck your breast in further.

“You’re so soft,” Caleb mumbles around your breast, tongue swirling around the fat of it before he lets go, watching as your breast gently sways back into place. “Cute,” he murmurs absentmindedly, gripping your hip when you try to arch away, nipping at the side of your breast. “C’mon, stay still for me, pipsqueak.”

“Don’t– ah!” you glare at him when he bites harder, gaze flitting down to find the imprint of his teeth etched into your skin. “Don’t call me pipsqueak while you’re sucking my tits, jerk.”

“Why?” he asks, pouting as he swirls his tongue over your other breast, nuzzling into the fat of it contentedly. 

You let out a muffled moan when he suddenly rocks his hips into you, fingers scrabbling at his shoulders when the bulge in his sweatpants rubs against your clothed cunt. 

“Because it’s– nghh– it’s a turn off!”

“I don’t know…,” Caleb trails off, sucking one of your breasts into his mouth, letting go of it a few moments later with a muted pop. “Kinda seems like you enjoy it, pipsqueak.”

“How would you know that?” you breathe out, trying to squeeze your thighs shut so he doesn’t see the way you’ve begun to soak through your panties and shorts, knees pressing together awkwardly.

He huffs out a laugh, pressing soft kisses to your breasts, biting gently at your nipples, his teeth digging in just enough for it to be painful before he soothes it with his tongue. You glare up at him when he leans back, sitting on his knees, his brows raising as he watches you worm your hand between your thighs to hide the damp spot. 

“You’re making this too easy for me,” Caleb muses, catching your ankle when you try to kick at his chest, his lips brushing across your foot in a fleeting kiss.

“Yeah?” you scoff, trying and failing to appear unaffected when his calloused hand slides over your calf, shuddering when his lips press against your knee.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you murmur, pursing your lips. Tugging your leg free, you rise up onto your knees, pushing at his chest until he falls onto his back. Caleb grunts as you crawl up onto his lap, his hands settling on your waist as you rock your hips, grinding against his clothed cock.

“What are you doing?” Caleb grumbles, his head tipping back when your lips latch onto his neck. 

You don’t bother answering, busying yourself with scraping your teeth against his neck, relishing in the sharp, little bursts of air that leave him. Your fingers find his pecs, squeezing hard enough to have Caleb letting out a loud moan, his hips bucking and cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink.

“Sounded like you wanted a challenge,” you whisper, biting his earlobe. A smile spreads across your face when he whimpers, your teeth sinking into your lower lips as you grind your hips down harder, eyes fluttering shut when you drag your clothed pussy over the length of his hardening cock.

“What I– shit– want,” Caleb stutters, his fingers flexing around your hips when you bite at his pec, “is to kiss that wet, little cunt. You gonna let me do that, sweetheart?”

Your throat dries at his words, lashes fluttering against his skin. No one’s ever offered to eat you out before, and coming from Caleb… it sounds oddly charming. You peer up at him, mid-bite into his pec, tongue flicking against his skin before you pull back.

“Only if you beg,” you murmur, pecking his lips. 

Caleb grins at you ferally, his thumb swiping over your lower lip before he pushes it past your lips, pressing down on your thumb. You whine softly at the intrusion, lips sealing around his thumb as you suck, tongue swirling around his thumb, head bobbing lazily.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” he breathes out, slipping his other hand between your thighs, watching as your eyes roll back. Caleb grinds his palm into your clothed cunt, his own eyes fluttering shut for a moment when he feels the weight of you press down against his throbbing cock.

“Well, you haven’t so–”

“Please,” he interrupts, tugging his thumb free from your mouth. He sits up, pulling you further into his lap, nose nudging against yours. “Please let me kiss your pussy, sweetheart. Hm?”

Your heart thuds violently in response, staring up into his eyes as he leans closer. Caleb kisses you, slower this time, his lips lingering against yours. “Please,” he whispers again, slipping his fingers past the waistband when he sees you’re distracted, his fingers finding your swollen clit. “I know you want it, know you want me to kiss that aching little cunt. I’ll do it, fuck–” an irritated snarl leaves him, “fuck, fuck, fuck– c’mon baby, please?”

Caleb sounds sweet when he begs. There’s a soft, breathy tone to his words, an earnestness that makes his purple eyes shine in a way that you’d only ever seen when he’d flown. His voice leaves you feeling dazed, fingers tracing over his chest, pressing his dog tags into his chest. His heart beats violently, the vibrations travelling through the metal until you can feel the steady thump, thump, thump of his heart. 

“You sound awfully desperate,” you say, fingers hooking into the silver chain around his neck. 

Caleb groans, his head falling forward to slump onto your shoulder, hands sliding over your waist and hips. “You like humiliating me or something?” he grumbles, his fingers circling your clit, drawing a muted whimper from you. “I begged, now let me eat your pussy.”

He sounds a little too sulky and you bite back a smile, instead leaning forward to press a quick kiss to cheek. You tell yourself that it doesn’t mean anything. 

“Fine, fine,” you sigh, pretending to be burdened by his request. You wiggle back, slumping against his pillows. Pulling your shorts down, you toss them at Caleb whose grip tightens on the fabric before it slackens when he sees your utterly ruined panties. 

“Keep ‘em on,” he says hoarsely, running a hand through his hair. 

You smile, spreading your thighs a little wider in invitation. “All yours, Captain.”

A broken noise leaves Caleb, his hand dragging over his flushed face. You’re distracted by the flex of his shoulder blades as he crawls closer, settling between your thighs, his hands running over your skin. 

“Have you done this with anyone else down at base?” Caleb murmurs, his lips soft against your inner thighs as he peppers kisses all over.

“Had sex?” you sigh, fingers running through his soft hair. “Not exactly.” Your hips lift when he buries his face into your panties, his nose pressing up against your clothed clit as he breathes you in with a groan. “I did– ah– did make-out with a couple of guys.”

Caleb pauses his ministrations and you glance down to find him narrowing his eyes up at you. 

“Name and rank.”

You huff out a soft laugh, rolling your hips up to get him to press his face back into your panties. Caleb clicks his tongue, his hand pressing against your stomach to stop you from moving. 

“Name and rank,” he demands, voice hardening.

“Are you jealous?” you drawl, miffed by the fact that he wasn’t giving you what you wanted. 

He lets out an annoyed sigh, fingers wrapping around your wrist when you try and rub at your clothed pussy yourself. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Name and rank, sweetheart or I’ll edge you ‘til you cry.”

An irritated noise leaves you, and you grumble out a few names and their respective ranks begrudgingly. “Have you done this with anyone else?” you ask pointedly when he buries his face back into panties to breathe you in again, “should I be asking for name and rank?”

Caleb hums, letting his tongue drag over your drenched panties slowly. “I haven’t.”

“That’s– ah– that’s what I–” you pause when you realize what he’s said. “You haven’t? With anyone?”

“Keep up,” Caleb murmurs, lapping at your clothed cunt, his saliva beginning to cling to the fabric of your panties, “I haven’t fucked anyone down at base.”

“Fingered?” you breathe out, a soft moan escaping you when he tugs your panties up to watch them press against your puffy folds, his tongue sliding through them, managing to squirm in close enough to flick against your clothed clit. “Kissed?”

“No,” he mumbles into your panties, scraping his teeth against the fabric before pressing a sloppy kiss to your hip.

“B– but I thought–”

“Couldn’t think about fucking anyone else when you were talking my ear off, pipsqueak.”

You tug at his hair roughly in retaliation, and Caleb grunts, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily. He smiles when he sees your glare, rising up to kiss you, his tongue tangling with yours until you can taste yourself. 

“Didn’t want to fuck anyone else,” he says, stealing another kiss from you before settling between your thighs again. “Not when you were the only one making me hard.”

“Romantic,” you say breathlessly, hips lifting for him when his fingers slip under the waistband of your panties.

Caleb hums, a low noise leaving him when he sees the way your slick clings to your panties, his head falling against your thigh to just… stare at your pussy. Your legs twitch as you wait, directing your gaze to the ceiling awkwardly as he continues to stare.

“Stop staring!” you finally sputter out when he nuzzles into your thigh.

“I want to,” Caleb replies, his hands smoothing over your thighs as he lets his gaze travel over your slick skin and puffy folds. “‘s cute,” he sighs, “and pretty… cute, little pussy, sweetheart.”

You flush at his words, shuddering when his lips finally meet your bare, sensitive skin, eyes squeezing shut as his tongue slides through your folds. Caleb lets out a guttural noise, thumbing apart your folds with a restrained sort of frenzy before he’s burying his face into your cunt.

A squeal escapes you, fingers flying to his hair when he latches onto your clit, his tongue swirling around the swollen, aching bud. 

“Fuck,” Caleb snarls into your pussy, pushing your knees towards your chest, laving his tongue over your pussy. “Spent all that time fighting when I could’ve been doing this the whole time.”

You moan loudly, legs jerking when he spits, smearing it onto your throbbing pussy. It’s sloppy, the way he latches on again, slurping at your slick noisily before he’s burying his tongue into your fluttering hole. 

“Slow– nghh! Slow down, Caleb!” you whine, already feeling the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten.

You only get a growl in response, the sound going straight to the ache in your cunt, thighs tightening around his head. Caleb grunts when he feels the sheer pressure, prying apart your thighs with a strength that’s enough to have you moaning again.

“Be good, baby,” he rasps, “and let me take care of you.”

He’s stuffing his tongue back into you again, fucking it in and out at a pace that has you seeing stars. You think you might be close to yanking his hair right out of his scalp, your knuckles white when his fingers slip over your clit, rubbing tight circles over the swollen bud.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper, toes curling against his broad back, “oh fuck, oh fuck– oh fuck–”

You can feel him smile against you, a strangled noise escaping you when he replaces his tongue with his fingers instead. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you are, how easy it is for Caleb to push two fingers inside.

“Good girl,” he croons, pressing a soft kiss to your clit, “look at you, taking me so well. Good fucking girl, all for me.”

Caleb crooks his fingers, and you whimper, fingers clawing at the sheets until he decides to move his other hand to your stomach, pressing down. A squeal erupts from you, your cheeks flushed, sweat clinging to your skin, the pressure of his hand enough to have your thighs shaking.

“C– Caleb!” you squeak, thrashing under him, “that– ah– that feels–”

“Good, yeah?” Caleb whispers, his tongue slipping through your folds again as he fucks his fingers into you roughly. He clicks his tongue when you start to squeeze your thighs around his head again. “I told you to be– hey,” his voice softens into something low and smooth, like syrup seeping into the crevices of your mind. “Look at me, baby.”

You blink down at him blearily, hazy eyes following as he dips his head to kiss your clit. 

“I told you to be good,” he finishes, working his fingers in lazily, slowing his pace until you’re rolling your hips, trying to fuck yourself on his lithe digits. He drops another kiss on your clit, tongue laving over your puffy folds again. “Thought you wanted to be my good girl, sweetheart.”

He has the audacity to sound disappointed and you whine, hiding your face in his pillows so he can’t see how your cheeks burn. “I–” a soft, petulant huff escapes you, “I am being good.”

Caleb laughs, and you burn hotter, irritated by the fact that he’s managed to whittle you down into a mess that craves his praise. 

“Okay,” he soothes, his fingers sliding over your breasts, squeezing gently before he reaches out, gripping your jaw to bring you out of your hiding place. “You are, baby,” he whispers, kissing the corner of your mouth, “but I need you to stop crushing my head. Can you do that for me?”

Caleb has never spoken to you like this. It has you preening, gaze flitting away when he kisses your cheek, heart fluttering in your chest uncontrollably. You settle on nodding jerkily, back arching when he quickens the pace of his fingers, breasts squishing against his chest.

“Good girl,” Caleb murmurs, his lips slotting over yours, hot and heavy as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. “Taking my fingers so well, yeah?”

You whine, arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him down for another desperate kiss. Caleb grunts into your mouth, his hand squeezing at your hip. You can feel how hard he is, his clothed cock rubbing against your thigh as he fingers you roughly. There’s spit leaking from the corners of your mouth and Caleb’s licking it up, feeding it back to you with a broken moan.

It’s filthy, the way he touches and plays with you, letting his tongue slide against yours with sinful strokes, his fingers pressing up against the spot where you need him most. His free hand slips up towards your chest and you grumble when he stops kissing you in favor of sucking a breast into his mouth, letting his teeth tug at an aching nipple. 

“Fuck,” you mewl, digging your fingers into his shoulders. His dog tags clink against your own, the chains tangling together for a moment. You arch further when his tongue swirls and flicks against your areola, watching as he drools against your skin, his half-lidded eyes finding yours. “‘m gonna cum,” you breathe out dazedly, head tilting when he kisses your neck. “Caleb– Caleb, ‘m gonna cum.” 

You try to kiss him, but he’s already gone, burying his tongue between your folds again. You cry out, tugging at his hair and Caleb groans loudly, grinding his hips into the sheets as he sucks your clit into his mouth. Your feet slide across his back, toes curling when he scrapes his teeth over the swollen bud.

“Cum,” Caleb rasps, glancing up at you as your back bows, “cum on my tongue, baby. Cum for me.”

And you do, somehow propping yourself onto your palms as your thighs twitch violently, fingers moving to clench Caleb’s hair tightly. The dog tags between your breasts clink as you shudder, your hand slapping against the sheets when Caleb thrusts his fingers into you one final time. 

You fall back against his pillows, feeling loose-limbed and numb, curling against the sheets. Caleb follows eagerly, his lips drifting over the curve of your hip, the dip of your waist, until he’s nuzzling into your cheek.

“I did a pretty good job, didn’t I?” he announces smugly and you grouse, shoving his face away. 

“Shut up,” you manage out, voice hoarse from moaning, thighs and legs still trembling from the force of your orgasm.

He sighs, pressing himself against your back. You fight the urge to curl into him, head tilting just enough to let Caleb bury his face into the crook of your neck. His arms are wrapping around your waist, holding you tighter. The silence is strangely comforting – until Caleb decides to open his big mouth again. 

“Really wanna watch you ride my cock.”

“I can’t feel my legs,” you retort, moving onto your back when he gets out of bed. You watch lazily as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his sweats, tugging them down along with his boxers. Your brows raise at the sight of his cock, head tilting to get a better look. “I get why you’re so insufferable now,” you sigh, sitting up, “must be hard walking around with that.”

“You like it?” Caleb murmurs, his eyes fluttering shut when he wraps his hand around his cock, stroking slowly.

“Mhm,” you shift onto your knees, crawling towards the edge of the bed. 

Caleb’s cock is… big, to say the least. You watch with rapt attention as he fists his cock, the emptiness between your thighs becoming hard to ignore when you see the pre-cum beading at the head of his cock. The tip is flushed prettily, and you lick your lips, following the length of a prominent vein down his thick cock, gaze settling on his heavy balls. 

There’s drool pooling in your mouth and a soft whine leaves you before you lean forward, kissing the head of his cock. Caleb’s hips jerk, not expecting the contact, his eyes snapping open to watch you take the head of his cock into your mouth. 

“Shit,” he breathes out, pushing his hair out of his eyes, “fuck, baby. You like my fat cock?”

You roll your eyes, swirling your tongue around the hot head, sucking lazily before pulling off with a pop. “Yes, Caleb,” you murmur exasperatedly, nuzzling into his hip, “I like your fat cock.”

“That didn’t sound sincere,” Caleb pouts, his hand cradling your head as you trail kisses over his abdomen. 

“No?” you whisper, shifting back towards his cock. You rub your cheek against his cock, kissing the tip of it once more, head tilting until his cock rests on your cheek. “How about now?”

“You’re filthy,” he groans, grasping his cock, rubbing the tip of it against your lips, smearing pre-cum all over.

You hum, licking your lips contentedly, tongue sticking out playfully after. Caleb’s chest heaves when he sees the pink of your tongue, his teeth sinking into his lower lip.

“C’mere,” he rasps, pulling you closer. You whine when he slaps his cock against your tongue a few times, trying to suck it back into your mouth only for Caleb to push at your forehead gently. “Take it,” he goads, thumb rubbing over your tongue before he’s slapping the tip of his cock against your tongue once more. “Fuck– look at that… good fucking girl, pretty fuckin’ girl, hm?”

“Need it,” you whisper, thighs squeezing together when you feel your pussy ache, “Caleb, need your cock.”

He grins down at you, purple eyes glinting. “Only if you beg for it, baby.”

Your expression falls. “What?”

“You heard me,” Caleb smirks, cupping your jaw to pull you into a breathless kiss. “Fair’s fair, sweetheart. Now c’mon, beg for my cock and I’ll give it to you.”

Glaring up at him, you try to reach for his cock, but he’s laughing and stepping back out of your reach, stroking himself. It’s humiliating, and your cheeks are hot with embarrassment despite the fact you’d had your mouth wrapped around his cock only moments earlier. Lips pursing, you squirm on his sheets, averting your gaze.

“Please,” you say quietly, “please– please? Wanna feel your cock, Caleb.”

“You’re cute, baby,” Caleb whispers, his hand cupping your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “But I know you can do better.”

You whine involuntarily when you hear the disappointment tinging his tone, squirming closer when his thumb brushes over your lips. “Please,” you mewl, sucking his thumb into your mouth, inhibitions forgotten as Caleb strokes his hand over your soothingly. “‘m so empty, wanna feel you all the way in here,” you point to your stomach, “wanna feel your fat, thick cock, Caleb.” Your tongue swirls around his thumb, teeth digging into the tip of it. “‘m gonna ride it so good,” you say breathily, lashes fluttering. 

It seems to wear him down. You don’t even know where the words are coming from at this point, the heady fog of lust having settled heavily over your mind. You bite down on his thumb harder, relishing in the hiss of pain he lets out. Still, he doesn’t move and you narrow your eyes up at him, Caleb returning your expression when he spies the defiant brattiness in your expression.

“Baby–”

“I’ll let you cum inside.”

Caleb’s eyes widen, his jaw slackening. You blink up at him, nodding towards the bed. He goes willingly and you’re crawling up onto his lap, letting out a soft moan as you rub your pussy against the length of his cock.

“And to think you were concerned about fraternizing,” Caleb rasps, his hands smoothing over your waist and hips as you grind along his length, shuddering when the tip of his cock catches against your swollen clit.

You smile, head tipping back when his hand smoothes over your stomach, squeezing at your breasts before his fingers wrap around your throat loosely.

“That was before you put your mouth on me,” you murmur, hands landing on his thick pecs.

“Yeah?” he says, his head tilting as he watches the sway of your hips, the soft jingle of your dog tags between your breasts. “Always wanted you like this, baby.”

You peer down at him, movements pausing. “Do you mean that?” 

Caleb nods, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin. “Thought about kissing you when you were looking at the eval sheet… figured you’d freak out.”

“Then why be such an asshole?” you prod, hitting his chest lightly. “I don’t get it.”

“Because you hated me,” Caleb retorts, his brows furrowing, “you said it yourself. Besides,” he trails off, looking away, “I liked the challenge. When I saw you fly your jet, I knew I finally had some competition.” He props himself onto his elbows, leaning forward to kiss you slowly, his grip on your throat tightening. “Then you kept bruising my ego,” he whispers against your lips, “I couldn’t have that.”

You kiss him harder, fingers wrapping around his cock, rising up onto your knees. Caleb moans into your mouth when you start to sink down on him, his fingers flexing around your throat before he decides to let go in favor of grasping your hips. Nails digging into his chest, you whimper at the feeling of his cock stretching you out, shifting a little as your pussy flutters around his cock in an attempt to accommodate his size. 

“Shit,” Caleb rasps, watching dazedly as you sink down lower, taking his cock to the hilt. “Taking me so fucking good, baby.”

His cock twitches, the fingers on your hip squeezing tighter as he shifts beneath you. You stare at him with half-lidded eyes, feet wiggling a little before you’re lifting your hips and letting them drop back down. 

“That’s it,” he coaxes, hands stroking over your waist, “that’s it, baby. Ride my cock– shit– just like that, yeah?”

Caleb moans and you whine with him, holding onto his chest tighter, eyes rolling back at how good it feels to be stuffed full by him. His fingers are slipping to your ass, squeezing at the fat appreciatively before he’s prying you apart, the action enough to have you flushing as you rise and fall on his cock.

“Pretty,” Caleb grunts, helping you guide your pace, letting you roll your hips needily. “You– hah– look so pretty like this sweetheart.”

A soft keen slips out of you, jaw feeling heavy. You need to feel him closer. Pawing at his chest, you whine again, head dipping to dig your teeth into his pec, drooling against his skin. Caleb growls, his hips bucking to meet your ass as you sway your hips back.

“Caleb,” you mewl, latching onto his other pec, biting down hard into his flesh to leave a mark. “Feels– nghhh– s’good.”

All you get is a broken moan in response, Caleb’s hands drifting all over you as though unable to touch you enough. You nip at his throat while you bounce on his cock, leaning back to watch his head tip back. He looks nice like this, all uninhibited and moaning and groaning like you’re pulling him apart by just riding his cock.

You smile faintly, quickening your pace, widening your knees to set a firmer base before you’re dropping down on his cock while Caleb slurs something out unintelligibly, completely and utterly pussy-drunk. Still, he had promised you something earlier.

Fingers slipping over his jaw, you hold him in place, still rocking your hips while your hand makes contact with his cheek. Caleb’s eyes snap open, his cheek reddening under the impact, a guttural groan leaving him. 

“You’re enjoying this,” you whisper, kissing his cheek, “aren’t you?”

“Stupid fuck– question,” Caleb slurs, pulling you closer, hugging you to his chest. You yelp in protest, feeling yourself be jostled as he plants his feet onto the bed, bending his knees before he’s fucking up into you without abandon.

You manage to squirm just enough to find his eyes, irritation sparking in them, but he’s pulling you down, lips pressing against yours as he kisses you sloppily, tongue pushing into your mouth to shut you up.

“Slap me,” he murmurs finally, “get it all out, baby.”

It’s a struggle to think straight when he’s driving his cock into you like this, hard and fast. You whimper, managing to prop yourself up onto a palm, pussy clenching around his fat cock as he fucks up into you. But you need this, need to get whatever remnants of anger are lingering inside and so you slap him over and over again, watching as his eyes flutter shut and his cock throbs inside of you, his fingers digging into your ass.

“Fuck,” Caleb snarls, his head tipping back before he’s offering up his other cheek. You blink down at him, huffing out a soft, hoarse laugh, arms wrapping around his neck as you kiss his cheek instead.

“Didn’t know– ahh– you were a pain-slut,” you whisper teasingly, breasts squishing against his chest as you nuzzle into his cheek, teeth dragging along his skin.

“Helps remind me I’m with you,” he murmurs, offering his neck to you, “wouldn’t let anyone hah fuck– else slap me around.”

“Just me?” you whisper, tugging at his hair, teeth sinking into his neck. Caleb shudders and you hum, tongue dragging over the length of his neck, fingers prying his mouth open before you’re spitting into his mouth, lapping at his lips.

He swallows almost immediately and your eyes light up, tongue lolling out to do it again. A shriek sounds when he’s suddenly flipping you over, shoving you into his bed, his cock slipping out for a brief moment before he’s sinking it back into you.

You squeal, nails dragging down his back, staring up at him with wide eyes as he pushes your legs apart, hands hooking under your knees as he holds you down. He’s dropping his weight down and an involuntary coo slips out of you, head tilting when he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

“Baby,” Caleb groans, his hips snapping into you, “baby, baby– squeezing me so tight– fuck!”

“I– I can’t!” you hiccup, hands scrabbling at his shoulders when Caleb drives his hips into you harder, his balls slapping against your ass, his bedroom filled by the lewd sounds of his body against yours. “Caleb– ah!”

“You can,” he snaps, his hands slipping lower to grip your hips, “you are, baby– fucking made to take this fat fuckin’ cock.”

You scrape your nails down his broad back, toes curling and head tossed back as you cry out. His hand presses down on your stomach and you jerk, a hoarse squeal ripping its way out of your throat. You try and curl away, but you can’t, not with the way he’s pinning you down and fucking the thoughts out of your head, pounding into you so deeply that there’s tears beading at your lashes, pussy clenching around his cock desperately.

The coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter and you can’t breathe, writhing under him and whimpering and whining until Caleb’s fingers find your clit, circling the swollen and slick bud. 

“Cum,” Caleb grunts, pulling back to watch the wanton expression on your face, his lips pressing against your cheek gently. “Cum, baby,” he whispers, his voice softer, “wanna watch you fall apart all pretty on my cock.”

You grab for him blindly, tugging at his chain until his lips slot over yours, your heart fluttering at the kiss. Thighs shaking, you cum with a sharp gasp, pussy fluttering around his cock uncontrollably while he groans into your mouth, his hand squeezing at your hip. Caleb isn’t that far behind, his hips thrusting forward unevenly before he whimpers, burying himself inside of you.

His cock twitches and throbs, hot, thick cum spilling inside of you. You let out a tired mewl as Caleb pants against your cheek, his lips dragging over your jaw to give you a clumsy kiss, rolling off of you before long.

You squeak when you go with him, trying to pull away only to find that your dog tags have somehow managed to get tangled together. 

“You could just ask to cuddle,” Caleb quips, smiling when you roll your eyes.

It takes a bit of work and concentration – Caleb steals kisses from you every now and then – but you work your fingers through and untangle the chains, arms wrapping around his neck loosely. You squirm closer quietly, thighs squeezing together when you feel his cum leaking out of you.

Your eyes flutter shut when Caleb runs his fingers through your hair, his arm pulling you closer to kiss your cheek.

“Stay the night.”

You trace your fingers over his chest, feeling warm and sated. Caleb whispers his request again, his thumb stroking over your cheek and you hum, stretching against him lazily. 

“I don’t know…,” you sigh, biting back a smile when his expression falls. 

“I hate you,” Caleb grouses when he sees your smile, although he tugs you closer when you laugh against his cheek, letting you pepper kisses over his warm skin.

“Yeah,” your voice softens, fingers pushing his hair out of his eyes. You kiss him gently. “I hate you too.”

–

You wake up to sunlight streaming through the curtains.

A yawn leaves you, and you rub at your eyes, ridding them of the lingering remnants of sleep. Glancing down, you find yourself clad in a pair of Caleb’s boxers and an oversized hoodie of his hanging off your frame.

He’s nowhere to be seen, so you crawl out of bed, taking the time to examine all the trophies and awards stacked onto multiple shelves on one side of his room. You allow yourself to feel begrudgingly impressed, fingers trailing over a photo frame of him grinning with Gideon, their jets in the background.

Unable to help yourself, you snoop a little more, perusing his book shelf. The corner of a photo peaks out from what looks like a book hastily shoved back into place and you glance at the door of his bedroom for a moment before tugging the book free. 

When the pages fall open, your brows furrow when you find a photo of someone none other than yourself. You’re laughing with someone, although they’re cropped out, your eyes bright with amusement and hair loose, free from the usual, required bun. Your heart stutters when another photo falls out, finding yourself pictured candidly once more.

You glance towards the door again, flipping through the other pages, disappointment flickering across your expression when you don’t find any others. Quickly tucking the photos back into the book, you place it back into its original place, padding out into the kitchen. 

Caleb stands over the stove, shirtless and in his sweatpants, cooking sausages. There’s reddish marks streaking down his broad back, courtesy of your nails from yesterday. You raise your brows when you see the breakfast spread, taking a bite out of a jam-covered slice of toast.

“I wasn’t expecting breakfast,” you announce, hopping up onto the kitchen counter, legs swaying lazily.

“Morning,” Caleb offers, glancing at you over his shoulder. He shrugs, flipping the sausages with a spatula. “I wanted to.”

You hum, gaze travelling over the dip of his waist, teeth sinking into your lower lip. It’s unfair, really, how attractive he is, even like this, hair messy and all marked up. Your recent discovery has you feeling curious so you lean forward, letting out an airy sigh. 

“I didn’t know you liked taking photos.”

Caleb loses his grip on the spatula, muttering out a soft curse. You smile at him when he turns around, head tilting in feigned innocence. 

“They were cute,” you muse when he flushes, “and kinda creepy. Didn’t know you were a perv, Caleb.”

“I’m not,” Caleb denies, although the tips of his ears seem to disagree with how prettily they’ve blushed. “I just–” He covers his face with his hand, looking away, “you looked pretty and I… couldn’t help myself.”

You hop off the counter, padding towards him, arms wrapping around his neck. “Who knew?” you drawl, pressing your lips against his. “Caleb Xia is a huge dork.”

Caleb groans, his hands petting at your waist as he pulls you closer, the stove forgotten. You arch into him when he squeezes your ass, rocking up onto the tips of your toes when he licks into your mouth, fingers slipping into his soft, brown hair.

“Hungry?” he mumbles, his hands sliding under the hoodie you’re wearing, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. 

“Not really,” you breathe out, your hand dragging over his firm chest, down his abdomen and past his sweatpants, curling around his hot, half-hard cock that throbs in your palm. “Stove’s on.”

Caleb moans into your mouth softly, reaching behind blindly to turn off the stove. You return his feverish kisses with an eagerness of your own, stroking his thick cock lazily.

“Baby,” Caleb whispers, his head falling forward as he pants into the crook of your neck, his fingers flexing around your hips, “baby, fuck–”

You spy his phone on the nearby dining table, kissing his cheek gently before you pull away. Caleb grunts in protest, his grip loosening as you squirm away to pick up his phone. You shouldn’t be doing this, the rational part of your mind reminds you, you really shouldn’t be doing this. 

But this is Caleb, the other… more debauched part of your mind offers – annoying, insufferable Caleb who kissed the shit out of you and let you slap him while you rode his cock. Caleb, who maybe isn’t so insufferable anymore and has somehow managed to get his foot in the door to your heart. Caleb, who – you’re realizing – you want all to yourself. 

Caleb, who looks at you like you’re the only thing he really sees.

You toss his phone at him, hooking your fingers under the hoodie, tugging it up so he can see your tits, nipples hardened, the soft flesh imprinted with his teeth and your dog tags hanging between your breasts prettily. 

“Wanna take some more pictures?”

There’s a hoarse groan leaving him, his hand pressing against his clothed cock as he stares at you with half-lidded eyes. You smile up at him when he strides towards you, fingers dragging down his chest teasingly. Caleb catches your hand, his fingers lacing with yours tightly. Your nose brushes against his when he dips his head, his voice soft. 

math is horrible. you’ve never been bright in math, plus it isn’t fun. it’s only fun when you understand what you’re doing. especially statistics, which is a whole other level for math. there are symbols, very important definitions and strategies, formulas and techniques, very precise calculations and data.

you never understood what the teacher was writing up on the board when you’d step into lecture. he moved fast and spoke even faster, you’re hands would cramp trying to keep up with him and you’re notes were a jumbled mess.

even if you tried so hard, you just couldn’t understand. your mind was constantly running, like a hamster on a wheel though it was nonstop. it was the same schedule pretty much every day. you wake up, rush out of your dorm, race to class, get to class huffing and puffing, and you do this three more times for your other classes.

then after a long day of learning, you’re off to work at the cafe down the street. it’s a very famous cafe, especially with it being so close to campus. convenient for students who needed work and wanted a nice coffee.

after work, you’d go back to your dorm on the brink of passing out, but of course, you had to study.

it was a constant look, a constant cycle that seemingly never broke until summer break. your days were starting to blend together and you were slowly driving yourself insane. at one point, you put stats at the back of your mind since you were so focused on an essay for your english class.

little did you know that you’d pay for that in the future. you missed one class, one lecture - and it seemed like you missed a whole semester.

you went to class the next day, after turning in that very important essay, and you were completely lost. you tried talking to your classmate about what the professor was talking about but she was just as lost as you.

if you thought stats was hard before, it’s even harder now. you looked over your notes from before, trying to correlate those to the ones now. though, nothing made sense.

that led you to where you are now. a week later, still very much lost, and you’re grade dropping with every single assignment.

you toyed with the drawstring of your sweats, blinking your dry eyes and nibbling at the dry skin of your lip. you were trying so hard to stay awake as your professor scrolled through your grades. his eyes were squinted and his knuckles pressed to his lips.

he had a pensive look on his face, looking from your scores and back to you.

you could practically read his mind. it was embarrassing and shameful. he took off his glasses with a sigh and turned his chair to face you.

“you were doing really good in the beginning but after chapter three i mean,” he paused gesturing his head over to the computer where the D’s and F’s lined up like a pattern.

“what happened? chapter three was so long ago why didn’t you reach out?”

you never understood why some professors didn’t take students' lives into consideration. some professors think that students have no life while others are very considerate. this professor wasn’t one of those professors.

he didn’t understand why his students couldn’t understand his material or why people asked stupid questions. even though, at the beginning of the semester he mentioned:

‘even stupid questions are good questions’

then when that stupid question is asked. he sits there with a disappointed look on his face and quite literally embarrasses that student in front of everyone. which is why, you don’t ask questions at all. you don’t want to be embarrassed, especially not in front of 30 other people.

“i’m sorry, my life has just been really hectic lately and-“ you rambled, running your hands over your face with a heavy sigh. until, of course, you were interrupted.

“no worries, i understand but,” he paused again, judging you with his eyes and completely ignoring the fact that you were on the brink of a mental breakdown. “you gotta reach out for help if you need it.”

even if you tried, it probably wouldn’t help. his teaching methods are like tough love. harsh but it’s supposed to teach you a lesson. spoiler alert, it never does.

he reached over for a pen and a sticky note and you watched him scribble down a few numbers and a name.

“i can’t really help you since my life is also hectic,”

alright, asshole. you’re the fucking professor you should be helping me. you said to yourself, never in your life did you want to slap someone so bad,

“but i can refer you to one of my top students.” he pushed the sticky note toward you. you picked it up and read the name at the top, his dorm number, and his phone number.

great, just what you needed a tutor.

you weren’t sure how exactly this ’top student’ was passing this class with flying colors and it was to the point your professor was impressed. which he never is and never was.

either this top student is sucking your professor's dick behind the scenes or is actually insane.

you read the name at the top as your professor began to speak.

“his name is Leon, he’s gotten perfect scores on every quiz and test, very smart and a decent kid,”

yup, Leon is definitely sucking this man's dick.

Leon’s contact info and his dorm room were written underneath his name. it was odd that he didn’t tutor in the library like the rest of the tutors did. though, given the fact he’d rather tutor in his dorm, he probably isn’t a tutor at all.

“i contacted him before our meeting today, he’s expecting you.

“oh, okay.” you nodded slowly, pocketing the small slip of paper. you weren’t so sure if you were comfortable being alone in a random dorm with some guy you’ve never met, but for the sake of your grade you were willing to do so.

you finalized your meeting with your professor and left his office even more unsatisfied than when you came. you were hoping he’d give you a run down on what you missed but instead, he completely dismissed you to his top student.

you left the building phone and slip of paper in hand, you weren’t sure if you should text him or not. ultimately, you decided it could wait. you were exhausted and maybe a small nap would be helpful rather than going to this guy's dorm where you probably wouldn’t learn jack shit.

—

Leon waited for you. he was told to expect you around the afternoon, so he canceled his plans with his friends, he went home to his dorm, tidied up, and put on a more suitable outfit. he never wanted to be a tutor it was tiring trying to teach someone something over and over again.

plus, he had doubt in his skills as well. he would be to blame if someone were to get a bad score or if they failed their exam.

but when his stats professor made a deal with Leon, he decided to take it. if he were to tutor you and possibly future students, he’d put in a good word with any police academy he wanted to join.

Leon wasn’t so sure how his professor would get that to happen but it was better than nothing at all.

so he waited, half an hour went by and then an hour and another. at this point, he was tired both physically and mentally. he sat leaned onto his desk with an elbow, tapping his pen against his notebook. it didn’t take long for him to catch the hint that you weren’t coming.

and just as he was about to strip his clothes to take a nap, there was a knock at his dorm door. his hands dropped at his sides and a sigh left his mouth, though he tried to maintain a calm act even though he was close to bursting into flames.

he was irritated, you were two hours late, he was already drained from a long day of sprinting around campus for his classes and he just got dumped not too long ago. he does not have time to be in a good mood.

albeit, he still opened the door with a smile.

“hi, you must be-“

“yes, i’m so so sorry! i know i was supposed to be here hours ago,”

Leon let out a small laugh, mumbling under his breath, “yeah, you were…”

unfortunately, you heard that part, and your heart dropped. at first glance, this guy looks like a sweetheart. he had a nice face, his cheeks a little round but his jaw very defined and sharp. his eyebrows were relaxed and a thick brown, and his dirty blonde hair was split down the side and a little long — the ends just touching the height of his cheekbones.

his lips were plump and a nice pink, glasses were perched up on his head and you guessed he was probably wearing them earlier.

his chin had a small indent, a little butt chin almost. he had two beauty marks on his throat, right on his adams apple, and a few small ones on his face.

he wore a basic dark blue sweater, even with the baggy fabric you could still tell his shoulders were nice and broad and he paired his sweater with basic grey sweats.

he was very attractive, tall, and muscular but that baby face was throwing you off. it wasn’t a bad thing, rather it was intriguing. how are you supposed to focus when there’s a very attractive man tutoring you? maybe your professor is secretly setting you up.

“oh god, i’m so sorry. i probably should’ve gotten your number from our professor,”

“uh no worries, just come in.” he said in a hurry, opening the door further for you. you nodded to him a thank you and stepped inside.

his dorm smelt of fresh mint and lemon, there was a hint of spice in the air as well. it was pretty warm, which made you guess the heater was on.

he shut the door behind you, walking past you as you stayed in the doorway to slip off your shoes. you took around the room for a second. his bed was up against the left side of the room, away from the sight of the door. dark midnight blue sheet, with a matching duvet and pillowcases.

underneath his bed were a bunch of bins, probably clothes and extra storage. against the back wall was his desk, piles of papers and different books were all stacked neatly at the side. the large window above the desk allowed a natural hue of light to cast down into the room, giving the room a pale yellow glow.

against the other wall was a dresser and closet. his room was very generic, with some posters and photos taped to the walls and a whiteboard with messy scribbles depicting his schedule for the week.

“so uh, how much did the professor tell you?” he asked, sitting at his desk chair and swerving around towards you and he lowered his glasses down to his eyes. you took a few steps further into his dorm, adjusting the tote bag on your shoulder.

“um he just said to meet you here and that you could help,”

“well no shit,” he scoffed, catching you off guard and sending a tense feeling through your muscles. “did he say what you needed help with? which chapter? which concept?” he asked and each time you shook your head like a dumbass.

“i’ve kind of been struggling the whole semester i just-“

“why didn’t you get help earlier?” Leon asked curiously, tilting his head to the side. unlike your professor, who seemed actually concerned this time. but that concern was probably for himself instead of you.

“i was embarrassed, i guess,” you shrugged.

he sighed, dropping his head and nodding his it up an down.

“okay well, uh please sit anywhere really uhh,” he got up from his desk chair and walked over towards the other corner of his dorm. there was another small chair in the corner, albeit a bit old, and he brought it over to his desk.

“sorry, i’m not used to visitors.”

“no worries,”

you sat down on his old chair and placed your tote bag into your lap as he opened up his computer. you watched as he brought his glasses up in front of his eyes and opened up the course page. “so uh, what did you need help with?”

his tone was harsh, almost like your professors. you felt intimidated by him, he was smart and quite rude.

“um well, everything?” your answer sounded more like a question, causing him to raise an eyebrow up at you.

“i’m sorry, i can’t help you with everything,” he spat, turning his shoulders towards you with one elbow on his desk. “give me specifics, like which chapter?”

“every chapter, it just isn’t making sense to me and i-“

a sigh left his lips and his shoulders slumped, you could practically hear the thoughts running through his head. “alright well, i can help you with the first chapter,” he said with a shrug.

you nodded along, reaching into your bag for your notes.

“the first chapter is pretty basic. basic terminology and techniques we use throughout the class, ‘kay?” he began, speaking with his hands as he went. you nodded at him, placing your notebook at the edge of his desk and writing down what he just said.

anything counts, anything you could get would help. you needed to get a good grade in this class, if you had to retake it for the credit it would be a disaster.

“it’s mostly the types of data, the collections of data, the types of sampling — and those are the basics.” his eyes flickered from his computer down towards your hunched figure. you were writing down every single word he spoke. you’d repeat his words to yourself in silent whispers.

then, as you finished writing, you looked up at him and waited for him to continue but he was left speechless. you really were desperate.

“tell me, do you know any of the terminology in chapter 1?” he asked, turning his full figure towards you. doing so, his knees were now touching yours. he didn’t miss the way you scooched back further in your chair to avoid his touch. cute.

“uh,” you hummed to yourself as you flicked through your notes and back to chapter one.

“no, no,” he stopped you, placing his hand over yours and bringing it back down into your lap. “tell me from memory, not from your notes.”

he watched you blink at him as if you were processing his words slowly, “uh yeah, i can do that.” you leaned away from his desk and your notes and faced him, your knees touching his again.

“i know sample versus population,”

“give me an example of both.” he cut you off again, leaning back into his chair and adjusting his hips.

“um, a population will be all the college students of our university but a sample would be just the engineer students,”

“good, at least you know that.”

you gave him a nervous laugh, a little more proud than you should be but his praise made you feel … good.

he continued to make you list what you know, making sure you knew every term by giving him real-life scenarios and every time you got it correct it was like a golden sticker was placed on your forehead. you were beginning to understand and, as ridiculous as it sounds, you were starting to have fun.

relating the different terms to real-life situations made it easy on you, rather than the unrealistic scenarios your professor gave you.

he let out a loud yawn and you caught a whiff of his minty breath, he’d been chewing on mint gum for the past hour now. throwing an old one away and popping in a new stick. you could tell he was getting tired, he was less responsive and blinking slowly.

“i think you should get some rest,” you told him. he looked over at you with a small ‘hm?’ before shaking his head, blonde hair sweeping over the bone of his brow and lips curling down into a frown.

“i’m fine,” he practically shouted out after another yawn, “let’s just finish it, ‘kay?”

“no, Leon, it’s okay we can continue another time.”

he stayed silent, his lips pursed as he looked down at your notes. gradually, his head began to bob up and down into a nod and another yawn left his mouth. this time, he stretched back, letting his sweater glide up slightly to reveal a sharp v-line and brown happy trail.

you quickly looked away and began to pack up your things, shoving your notebook and pencil case into your bag — not even bothering to shut or zip anything up.

“man, look at the time,” he said, lifting up his sleeve to reveal a black watch. “next time be on time, that way we have more time.” he smiled at you as you stood up.

you weren’t sure whether to take that as a friendly reminder or a warning but either way you nodded.

you made your way towards the door, slipping on your shoes and looking back at him to say goodbye. you expected him to still be seated at his desk or even going to lay on his bed. though, to your surprise, he was standing directly behind you.

hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweater.

“jesus!,” you jumped, “sorry, you surprised me.”

“uh, who else do you expect to lock the door behind you?”

you blinked up at him, again caught off guard. he was a little bipolar with his attitude, one minute he’s proud of you for getting something the next he’s making fun of you with his eyes.

“well, goodnight,” you said to him as you stepped out the door, he didn’t say anything else. he kicked the door closed and locked it the moment you stepped out.

you could feel your eye twitch, only if you could march back in there and beat the blue out of his eyes but he was just a tutor. just a few weeks of this and then you’ll never have to speak to him again.

-

“are you serious? we just went over this,”

“i’m sorry i blanked out,”

“no, you didn’t i was watching you giggle on the phone with that little boyfriend of yours,”

“first of all, why are you watching me? and second of all, i wasn’t on the phone with any boyfriend.”

he sighed, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “i wasn’t stalking you, dumbass. your bright ass screen caught my attention and when i looked over voila it’s you.”

he leaned forward, pointing a finger at your face and squinting his eyes behind his glasses, “and who else would have you giggling like that in the middle of a lesson huh?”

to be honest, he didn’t like that you weren’t paying attention, it was more work on him because you always came crying to him about not understanding a topic. he didn’t necessarily hate tutoring you. sure, you guys had some fun times but it was beginning to become a part of his everyday life.

canceling plans on his friends, not going to the gym, and missing out on his personal time. his goal was to teach you and go over a chapter every week, it was working … slowly but surely.

“i saw a funny video, ‘kay?”

“wow, so you’re just sitting in class watching silly videos. no wonder why your brain is rotten.”

“hey, asshole, the professor wasn’t even talking about anything important. it was more about his dumbass grandkids,” you rebutted, grumbling your words toward the end of your sentence.

“if it wasn’t anything important, how come you don’t know what he just fucking talked about?” he said with a scoff.

you groaned and began to pack your things, you probably should’ve done this a long time ago. sure, Leon helps, but he belittles you in every way and it’s beginning to actually hurt. his rude comments and attitude.

he was like a hawk or a vulture, hovering over you every second of the day and then picking at you when you were alone. slowly tearing at your skin and ripping off flesh until he got to bone. he was always watching you.

you couldn’t go on your phone in class to check a text or even walk out early because he will know and will say something about it later. maybe it was time for another tutor.

“whatever, Leon. you’re not helping anymore.” you scoffed his way as you stuffed your computer into your bag.

“that’s where your wrong, your grades have been getting better, haven’t they?”

“what are you? my dad? you’re checking my grades now?”

only if he wasn’t so stupidly handsome, you would probably smack him across the face or maybe choke him out. there was something about Leon that you liked, unfortunately. he was intriguing, he knew so much about you but you didn’t know anything about him.

he wasn’t in the frat, thank god. he was smart and had a large group of friends. you always caught them hanging out in the private study rooms in the library, the ones they always made sure to book. they all would stay there and hang out like obnoxious fools.

it was rare to see Leon smile and laugh, he looked like a completely different person. his eyes gleamed differently and he had a specific glow around him. maybe the reason you saw him so much in public or outside of his dorm was because you looked for him.

you looked for him and that glow.

“i’m not, the professor told me.” he watched as you continued to pack, were you really leaving? was he too harsh? sometimes he was only ‘mean’ to you to elicit a reaction from you. it was cute to watch your jaw drop and your fingers twitch as if you wanted to hit him.

sometimes, you played along, insulting him back. it was amusing to watch your spark glow into a flame. he hated tutoring but he didn’t hate you.

“of course, you practically suck that man's dick during office hours,” you said to yourself but loud enough to let him hear.

“that’s hilarious,” he said, rubbing at his nose bridge where his glasses sat.

“you didn’t deny it.” you huffed turning to leave until you were, very abruptly, yanked back. his hand had wrapped around your wrist, holding you back from leaving.

you turned back to him, his head was tilted to the side and he silently motioned with his eyes towards your seat.

“sit, we’re not done.”

his tone sent chills up your spine but you still refused, only if he didn’t look so damn good.

“yes, we are.”

you yanked your wrist away from him but much to your prevail, that only prompted him to stand up, grab you by your hips, and push your right back down into your seat.

“no. we are not.”

you sat still, bag in your lap, eyes wide and lips shut. did he just…man handle you back into your seat?

he sat back down in his seat after you, rolling his jaw with a sniff. “where were we?”

you remained silent and still, you knew if you got back up to leave he’d only pull you back down into your seat. though, you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it. the minute his large hands fell onto your hips there was a burn that ran through you, and it wasn’t rage.

“what is variance?” he asked turning towards you.

“standard deviation squared,” you replied, very straight and mellow-toned.

a smile grew onto his lips, the blues of his eyes gleaming and his pearly white teeth slowly revealing from underneath his pink plump lips. “good, you’re getting the hang of it.”

ever since then, Leon was very comfortable with touching you and kind of controlling you. tugging you by your wrists, guiding you with his hand on the small of your back, touching your legs, or shoving you to get your attention.

you were slowly losing it. you couldn’t even think straight, he was such a distraction. his voice, his hands, his scent, everything. the way he dressed was always so casual but he always looked so good, basic sweats with graphic tees or a sweater.

glasses, hair sometimes a little messy. you noticed when he was very focused his tongue would stick out from the corner of his mouth, it was cute, to say the least. he’d scrunch his nose to keep his glasses up on his eyes, he rolled his ankle instead of bouncing his leg, and when he laughed.

it was boisterous and full of light. you never thought that you could make him laugh, even if he wasn’t laughing with you rather he was laughing at you.

-

“are you serious? it’s like you don’t retain anything at all, how did you even get accepted?”

that one kind of hurt but you were too focused on the brightness in his cheeks and his perfectly straight teeth.

“well the acceptance rate is pretty high so…” you shrugged turning back towards your notebook.

you kept on denying the fact that you very much had a crush. is it wrong to find someone attractive? no, not at all. it’s a regular thing to find people attractive, doesn’t mean you have a crush on them. but this … is different.

a month and a half in you were beginning to realize you very much had a crush on Leon. you were beginning to get used to him and he was getting used to you.

you looked forward to tutor sessions now, practically dropping everything to go and see him. you began putting on extra perfume and wearing your hair down rather than keeping it up.

you kept your attire casual, you didn’t want him to think that you were dolling yourself up for him. so pajama pants or sweats were your usual go-to.

little did you know, Leon noticed everything. he was keen to snuff people out. he could smell you from a mile away, that heavy fragrance of yours was slowly seeping into his clothes and his brain. even after months, everything you touched was beginning to smell like you.

he noticed how your makeup slowly became heavier and your hair was all nicely done for him.

to be frank, he was flattered. he hoped you were getting all dolled up for him and not the guy who constantly blew up your phone. who is he? is he a boyfriend? a relative? a crush? a friend? who is he?

Leon wants to know, who do you see throughout the day? who are your friends? what do you like? do you like him? do you hate him? every time he sees your face he just wants to know, who are you?

Leon sat at his desk, waiting for you. his hands were folded up to his mouth and his leg was bouncing anxiously. you’ve never been late, well except for that first day but other than that you were always on time. always.

the pillow you occasionally sat in your lap during these sessions was now in his lap. it smelt just like you. at first, he wanted to snatch it away from you the moment you put the pillow into your lap, hugging it against you and spreading your germs onto it.

but then, it was nice. it was your signature pillow, you looked for it every time you came over and placed it directly in your lap. now, he finds himself carrying it around or having it next to him while he sleeps. is that weird?

well, it was his pillow in the first place. what’s so wrong about having it in his bed? it’s comforting.

his eyes quickly flicked over when his phone screen lit up, he looked over at it quickly reading the notification. you texted him.

was something wrong? are you sick? do you no longer need tutoring?

he quickly unlocked his phone and read the message, the pillow now bunched up underneath his nose as he slowly inhaled and exhaled your heavy scent.

‘hey, might be running a little late today :/. there’s a lot of traffic.’

traffic? where are you coming from?

‘k.’

he kept his reply short and nonchalant even though his curiosity was close to killing him. he knew the semester was close to ending, meaning he wasn’t going to see you afterward. it’s a big campus, so many buildings and so many students. he rarely sees you.

though, he catches a glimpse of you in the library, walking and talking with your friends. in the lunch hall, always getting the same drink from the vending machines and leaving in a hurry as you typed away at your phone.

you told him you had no boyfriend, but maybe you were lying to him. maybe it’s because he wasn’t a close friend of yours. that’s right, he’s just a tutor — not a friend or a love interest in your eyes.

he sat there longer than he anticipated, he didn’t realize how long he had been sitting until there was a knock on the door. he stood up, tossing the pillow in his lap aside onto his bed and rushing to the door. almost tripping over the clothes and mess that sat on his floor.

shit, he forgot to clean. he kicked the mess aside as he made his way to the door. kicking it under his bed mostly. he almost tripped on one of his shoes, letting out a small cuss before stumbling more towards the door.

the chaos behind the door caused you to furrow your brows.

“Leon? you good?”

“yeah! hold on!” he shouted out. you nodded slowly, itching at your ankle with the tip of your shoe.

Leon looked down at his attire, week-old sweats and a white sweatshirt with oil stains on it.

he turned away from the door quickly and silently ran back into his room, he needed clean clothes and he hadn’t done laundry all week. he didn’t have time, all because he was too busy thinking about you.

he quickly threw his sweatshirt off, taking the glasses off his head in the same swift movement. now he was just a mess, feeling around his bed for his glasses like Velma from Scooby Doo. all while his sweats were halfway on his legs.

“shit, shit,” he muttered to himself and he almost sighed with relief as he finally found his glasses and a clean, well decently clean, sweatshirt.

he rushed over to the door, sweat sticking to his hairline and very much out of breath. when he swung it open he was met by you looking down at your phone, texting someone once again. you looked up at him with a smile.

“what were you doing in there, huh? hiding a girl from me?” you taunted with a smile. he took notice of your outfit once you stuffed your phone away, a small wine-red top paired with some baggy jeans. you had a nice pendant necklace on, hanging right between the swell of your breasts, and cute little bracelets all up your wrists.

your makeup was done nicely, same with your hair. you were very very pretty today. you always were. but who did you look pretty for today?

“don’t be an idiot,” he scoffed, stepping sideways and letting you inside. you chuckled to yourself, finishing up your text to your friend before your phone was miraculously snatched from you.

“no phones tonight.” he snapped at you, taking a sneaky peek at your text convo. it wasn't a guy, it was a friend who was a girl. you two were speaking about a house party and tutoring. he lifted an eyebrow and looked down at you, he was completely ignoring your small grumbles of complaints.

“you were at a house party before this?”

“nosy much!” you snapped as he shut your phone off and stuffed it away into his pocket.

“answer the question,” he sighed like a disappointed parent.

“yes, i was and i ditched it to be here. with you.” you finalized.

he wasn’t gonna lie, the last part of your sentence sends electricity through his veins. you ditched fun to be here. not for tutoring. not for your grade. but to be here with him. he had no words, he was just frozen in place not sure of what to say or do.

“um, no phones today no distractions. midterm is coming up and i don’t want you to fail,” he said, clearing his throat. he shut the door softly and locked it. he turned to face you, taking off your shoes with a pout.

“aw, you care about my score?”

he rolled his eyes, shoving past you with another scoff. “yeah because your score reflects my tutoring.”

"and here i thought you hated tutoring,"

"i do, hurry up and get inside."

you smiled up at him, walking further into his room and instantly looking for your pillow. it wasn’t in its usual spot but you found it on top of his bed. his very tall bed. you jumped up, half of your body on the bed and your legs dangling off the floor.

you outstretched your arm for your his pillow. it was just at your fingertips but still out of reach. why did his bed have to be so big?

Leon watched you struggle for a bit, amused at how hard you were working just for a pillow. he also took this chance to admire how good you looked, almost perfect. bent over the edge of his bed, shirt riding up to reveal more of your back.

he couldn’t help but imagine you in this position but in different circumstances. his hands on your waist, bodies sticky and sweaty, hips rocking against one another.

he was quickly shaken out of his trance when you hit him in the face with the pillow.

“let’s get this over with, my friends are expecting me back in two hours.”

he cleared his throat and nodded with a small, “yeah.” his voice cracking in between.

it was hard to focus, he couldn’t stop looking your way. he couldn’t dismiss the burn that flew through him every time your knees touched his. he couldn’t form a sentence when your eyes would lock with his as you patiently waited for him to teach you something else.

almost like a dog waiting for a fucking treat.

the mascara on your lashes made your lashes pop more, shiny gloss on your lips, and the blush on your cheeks was nice and bright — but not too obnoxious. what was obnoxious though was your top, so dangerously low and that pendant hitting the fat of your breasts with every movement.

you were speaking to him but his eyes were focused on your pendant necklace. you took notice of it, stopping midsentence and looking down towards your necklace that he was so focused on.

“who’s the one distracted now?” you chuckled, taking out the pendant from your shirt and showing it to him.

“where’d you get it from? a boyfriend?” he asked out of nowhere. even his own words caught him off guard. he didn’t mean to ask that last part but it has been on his mind forever.

“Leon, how many times do i have to tell you?” you sighed out, leaning back into your chair and crossing your legs. “i don’t have a boyfriend.”

“then who is currently blowing up your phone?” he asked, motioning down to your phone constantly buzzing in his pocket.

“my friends,” you said with a shrug.

“i don’t believe it.”

“well, you should.”

“what could they possibly want to talk about?”

“you,” you said, looking from your phone lighting up in his pocket then back up at him.

you watched his eyebrow raise in confusion and he tilted his head to the side once again in disbelief. but you nodded slowly leaning towards him.

“they think you’re hot,”

“oh really?”

“yes, really.”

he scooted closer to you, both of his meaty thighs now trapping yours. his pupils dilated as he looked into your own. instantly, your palms began to sweat. you crossed your arms over your chest, subconsciously trying to shoo away the goosebumps rising onto your skin.

“what do you think then?” he asked, his voice low and his eyes flickering down to your lips and staring there.

“of?” you answered with another question.

“you think i’m hot?” he was inching closer closer, surely this was another way to tease and taunt you. even so, your heart was beating out of your chest and you were shrinking away from him.

“mmm not really, you’re kinda ugly.” you lied. that was the biggest lie you’ve ever said out loud. you haven’t even admitted your little crush to your friends. you were denying it to your core but right now with him so close like this, his breath fanning against yours and his hands placed on either side of your chair — you were ready to give up.

“liar.”

“not a li-“

before you could say anything else, his lips were on yours. soft plump and warm. wet from the amount of times he’s licked over them with a hint of mint from his gum. you kissed him back, leaning forward to press your lips against his even more.

your entire body lit up, you could feel your knees grow weak and the butterflies in your stomach felt more like a wildfire. with every smack of your lips, there was another spark and more of that fire spread.

his hands found your waist, tugging you up off your chair and towards him. you accepted his instruction quickly and obediently. he pulled you into his lap, hands moving from your waist and towards your hips.

his thumbs rubbed at your skin, calloused fingertips colliding with your soft skin. hot and gentle. you moaned onto his lips, tilting your head to the side and bringing your hands from his shoulders and towards the nape of his neck.

shivers ran through him at your touch, the cold sweat on your fingertips and your manicured nails scratching at his scalp.

he ran his hot tongue along your bottom lip and you welcomed him. tongues finding each other in a heated and passionate battle. you moaned at the minty taste on his tongue practically melting into him.

his hands found the small of your back, pressing you closer to him until you could practically feel his heart beating against yours.

he reached down into his pocket, bothered by your buzzing phone. he threw it to the side and onto his desk, he couldn't care less where it landed, he was more focused on you. your gloss stuck to his lips, it tasted fruity like cherries and he could taste the smallest twinge of rum on your tongue.

he pulled away, one hand grabbing the back of your neck to keep you in your place, “drinking and driving, huh?”

you rolled your eyes, rolling your hips down into his, “it was just one shot.”

you kissed him again, feverishly. you were hungry and desperate, you never wanted someone so bad. even if he made you feel like shit, pretty privilege at its finest. you didn’t care if he tugged and shoved you around like a damn rag doll, it was hot.

you didn’t care if he insulted you, part of you really fucking liked it.

he kept his lips on yours as he let his hand run down underneath the curve of your ass and the other guided your thigh around his waist. he stood up taking you with him, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms wrapped around his neck.

you held him close, both of you kissing at a slow and deep pace. in all truth, you didn’t think Leon was interested in you in the slightest but judging from the way his hands traveled all over your body you were very very wrong.

his hands reached up beneath your top, feeling for your bra clasp but he was surprised to find none. you smirked against his lips.

“no bra, fuck that’s hot.” he sighed against your lips, copying your smirk.

he threw you down against his bed, watching your hair splay out around your head like a halo. your lip gloss was ruined, smeared all over your mouth and your lips were now plump and glossy with his spit.

you looked up at him, the fire behind your eyes and adrenaline running through every vein in your body. you propped yourself up onto your elbows, slowly scooching away from him as he crawled towards you.

his hands on either side of your frame, icy blue eyes staring right into yours. his lips were now swollen and pink, some of your lipgloss smeared all over his mouth.

“where you going?” he taunted, a certain tone in his voice. his hands reached for the hem of his sweatshirt, quickly pulling it over his head and throwing it to the side along with the rest of his clothes. you scanned your eyes up and down his built figure, who knew he was so muscular.

underneath all those sweatshirts and loose tees was a greek god. chiseled muscle and wide shoulders, his arms were thick and looked as if they could kill. no wonder he could throw you around like you weighed nothing. he was built like a fucking tank.

your eyes trailed down to the happy trail, you witnessed now and then. sharp v-line, light brown hair with a single vein running down.

his hand wrapped around your ankle, tugging you down the bed until his face hovered over yours. “my eyes are here,” he told you before placing his lips on yours. your hands ran up his arms and up to his shoulders, you sunk your nails into his skin creating little pink crescents.

one of his hands kept him up while the other worked with the button of his jeans. the minute he got the metal button off, he was tugging them down your thighs and you helped by lifting your hips for him.

he kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, and then your jaw. his kisses were wet and slow, his fingers playing with the hem of your panties.

“god, you’re beautiful,” he whispered in your ear, kissing your lobe. your body shook with excitement every time he touched you, your body immediately responding to any of his calls. you were under his control and his command.

“i need you,” you whispered to him.

“shh shh, how about this?" he shushed, removing his glasses and then throwing them onto his desk.

he smirked at his own idea, loving the sound of what plan just popped up into his head.

" if you get these answers correct you’ll get what you want, ‘kay?”

you threw your head back against his pillow, whining his name. he swatted your ass as a warning as he traveled down your neck with opened-mouthed kisses, “i’ll stop.”

“no! okay, okay.” you exclaimed. he smiled against your collarbone, sinking his teeth into your skin as his hand traveled up the sheets to play with the hem of your top.

“give me five different ways to collect data,” his hand traveled underneath your shirt, his thumb finding your perky nipple and swiping over the bud slowly. you shivered at his warm touch, your brain melting and your mouth opening into a silent moaning.

“answer me, baby.”

“um surveys, experiments,” you began, trying to focus on his question rather than his touch. he pinched your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as his knee slotted between your legs and pressed against the gusset of your soaked panties.

he applied just the right amount of pressure and friction to your clothed cunt, earning him a small moan.

“an observational study,”

“good good,” he praised, lifting up your top and bunching it above your breasts. he watched them spill out and bounce, “so pretty, baby. give me two more.” he placed a soft kiss over your hard nipple and watched your body squirm for him.

“focus groups and- fuck and sampling,” you whined, arching your back towards him.

he grinned down at you, one hand cupping your left tit while the other stroked your cheek. “good job.”

he placed another hot kiss over your nipple, dragging his teeth ever so slowly over your hot skin.

this was killing him more than it was killing you. but he just loved teasing you, the excitement in your body, the hunger in your eyes, and the desperation in your voice. he loved having control over you.

“what’s the formula for a z-score?”

“Leon!”

he swatted your thigh as a warning, “say it.”

you pursed your lip, watching him place small kisses around your areola, purposefully avoiding your sensitive nipples.

“x minus x bar-“

“do it correctly,”

“sample size minus the mean, divided by the standard deviation!” you whined out.

he rewarded you by taking your nipple into his mouth, harshly sucking and dragging a long whine out of you.

you’ve never been so sensitive before but he was bringing everything out of you. your hips began to grind down against his knee, the smallest amount of pressure against your clit was all you needed. you were aching for him, clenching around absolutely nothing and dripping into the gusset of your panties.

his hand was splayed over your stomach, his thumb playing with the hem of your lace panties. his lips left your nipple with a pop and he looked up at you whilst biting down on his bottom lip.

“if the mean is more than the median,” he began kissing down the valley of your breasts. “how does the graph skew?”

you couldn’t focus, your brain was mush and you were very lightheaded. you couldn’t breathe and you were aching for him worse and worse every coming second. you tried to go over his question but every kiss he placed on your skin was a distraction.

“come on, baby you got it.” he said, now completely in between your legs. his hands were running up and down your thighs, keeping them at either side of his head. he placed a wet kiss on your inner thigh, sucking and then dragging his teeth over the small hickey.

your hips bucked up and your legs began to shake, “Leon, i don’t know.”

“i know you do, baby. come on,” he hummed against the skin of your thigh. the smell of your pussy was making him dizzy, it was right in front of him and god he needed it so bad. he could see how wet you were, just for him.

he wanted to rip these pretty lacy panties right off of you and devour your pussy whole, but he wanted to wait. he wanted to wait until you were at your limit, he wanted to watch your eyes roll back when you finally got what you both wanted.

“um, it skews right!”

he smiled against your inner thigh, placing a kiss on your abdomen and then moving your panties to the side. his cock jumped at the sight of your cunt right in front of his eyes, dripping wet and quivering just for him.

“answer this next question right and i’ll let you cum, ‘kay?” he said placing a kiss over your swollen clit.

“fuck!” you moaned out, hands reaching for his blonde strands.

“what is the empirical rule? and what does every single one of them mean?” he asked, prodding his tongue at your hole. his breath was hot against your clit, your whole body was shaking to the point you couldn’t take it.

“Leon, i-“ you stammered out with a tear running down your temple and into your hair.

“come on, we just went over this yesterday.”

“i can’t,”

he gathered a glob of spit onto his tongue before spatting it against your pussy, watching it drip from the hood of your clit and over your fluttering hole. “yes, you can.” he egged on.

“it’s mmm,” you pursed your lips and squinted your eyes close, you just needed to think and avert your attention away from him. “68% falls um one standard deviation of the mean,” your statement was more like a question.

he confirmed your answer by flattening his tongue over your slit and languidly licking upwards. he moaned at your taste, practically drunk on your pussy already. he shut his lids and let his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“95% is two and 99.7% is three!” your voice raised a few octaves as the languid strokes of his tongue became faster.

he was done testing you, for now. right now, he’s focused on making you cum all over his face. his arms wrapped around each of your thighs, holding you close to his mouth as he got to work. his thumb went to find your clit, rubbing small slow circles around your swollen nub.

“oh god,” you sighed out. his tongue prodded at your dripping cunt, messily lapping up at your juices mixed with his saliva. you arched your back, your fingers digging into his scalp both pushing him away and pulling him closer.

he applied more pressure to your clit, his tongue plunging in and out of your hole shamelessly. wet and sloppy sounds filled the room along with the sound of your messy moans and chants of his name.

“fuck, so good.” he moaned to himself, completely focused on your pleasure even if his hips were grinding into his sheets. he could cum just like this, to the sounds of your moans and the taste of your cunt.

he couldn’t wait to fuck you, to feel the warmth of your walls suck him in, and the sound of your moans directly in his ear. but he needed to be patient, he needed to reward you for doing so good in class.

he picked up his pace, taking turns fucking his tongue into you feverishly and sucking on your clit. your legs shook around him, thighs clamping around him and keeping him locked in place.

“yes, Leon! i’m close,” you moaned out, drool gathering at the corner of your lips and more tears spilling from your eyes. he kept his pace, not moving faster or slower but he just applied the smallest pressure against your clit that sent you over the edge.

you cried out, arching your back and curling his sheets into your fist. with your release, stars danced behind your vision and every muscle in your body contracted and then relaxed. he eased you down from your high, sucking at your clit lightly and drawing circles over the bone of your hip.

he looked up at you, lips swollen and slick with your release. he placed a kiss on your abdomen with a grin plastered across his cheeks.

his blonde hair stuck to his forehead sweaty and hair disheveled all because of you.

“you did so good,”

your whole body was worn out, your eyes shut ready to pass out but he wasn’t done. he tugged your panties down your legs, keeping them scrunched in his fist.

“i’m not done testing you baby,” he said placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Leon, please,”

he ignored your pleading working himself out of his sweats. you caught a peep of a dark grey splotch in his sweats, either from when he had his knee placed against your heat or his dripping tip.

“get this question right and i’ll fuck you, got it?”

you nodded excitedly, biting down on your bottom lip. you watched his cock spring out and god was he pretty. tip swollen and red, veins running up his girth, thick and long. god, of course, he was big.

“words, baby. i need words.”

“yes, yes, okay!” you snapped at him, very obviously sexually frustrated. he didn’t like your tone so he slapped your clit with the tip of his cock, sending a shock wave through you.

“watch your tone, i don’t have to fuck you, i don’t have to give you a second orgasm,” he grabbed your chin harshly and tugged your head up to face him, “understand?”

“yes,” you croaked out.

he placed a kiss on your lips, letting you get a taste of your juices still on his tongue.

he ran the tip of his cock through your folds, his shoulders tensing up and his hand twisting in his own sheets. it was taking everything in him to be patient.

“how do you find the three quartiles?” he asked, pressing his tip against your fluttering cunt. you opened your mouth to answer but nothing came out but a weak moan. he watched you closely, not breaking any eye contact.

his pupils were blown out, only leaving a halo of his blue irises.

“please,” you croaked out.

“come on baby, you got this.”

you gulped down a lump, getting rid of the dryness in your throat. “the first quartile is the 25th percentile,” you answered weakly.

he pressed his tip into your dripping cunt, hissing at how your pussy was practically ready to suck him in. your breath hitched at the stretch and a tear ran down your temple, he kissed it away, leaning his forehead against yours.

“keep going baby, you got this.”

“the second is the- the median. 50th percentile, the third quartile minus the first,” you rambled, looking up into his eyes as he nodded his head.

“good, good,” he moaned out, giving you just a few more inches of his cock.

“the third one is 75th percentile,”

with your final and last answer, he thrust his cock all the way in, until his tip was kissing your cervix. you sucked in a shaky breath, your thighs shaking as you adjusted to his size. he kept his tip pressed against your cervix, stroking your thigh with his large hand.

“s- so big, fuck,” you whined out, walls fluttering around his girth.

“shh shh, take it. take it.” he whispered close to your lips.

“lower fence versus upper fence, quickly.” he was struggling to stay still, he was torturing both you and himself. you choked back a sob. you could feel his cock pulsing inside of you and god you couldn’t even think.

“lo- lower fence is the first quartile, mmm,” you moaned out.

“come on,”

“first quartile minus one point five times the IQR,”

he sighed out against his lips, grinding his hips into yours earning him a whiny moan from your quivering lips. “one more baby,”

“upper fence is, shit, it’s the third quartile plus one point five times the IQR.”

he was done.

he pulled out and then thrusted straight back in, your whole body convulsed. every tense muscle in your body relaxing the moment he thrusted his cock back into you. he cupped your cheek, bringing your lips to his. he kissed you hungrily, invading your mouth with his tongue, moaning at the taste of you.

his hips continued to snap into yours, bullying his cock into you with no remorse. each thrust of his cock stroked at your g-spot and your body would jolt from the force.

“been waiting to do this forever,” he spoke into your mouth. “fuck, you’re so beautiful,”

you moaned out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him closer to you. his hands reached back towards your top, tugging it over his head and throwing it off the side.

he was quick to cup your breast, slotting your nipple between your two fingers and then slamming his lips against yours. you scratched down his back helplessly, the fresh polish on your nails chipping and blood seeping through the cuts you were giving him.

you couldn’t focus on anything else but him, not only did you really like him but he was also fucking you so good. his pace was perfect, his touch was intoxicating and his lips were hot.

there was a ring of white forming around the base of his cock, lewd noises spilled from both of your lips as you both found yourselves inching closer and closer to your highs.

your kiss grew sloppy and his pace quickened, “this pussy ’s so good, fuck,” he groaned out, moving the hand from your breast towards your clit.

your whole body shook once his two fingers began to draw figure eights around your clit. the slow pace of his fingers contrasting with the fast pace of his thrusts.

“god, look at you,” he breathed out, “all fucked out on your tutor's cock, huh?”

you couldn’t reply, only croaking out a moan of his name.

“fucking whore, came here for math help now look at you,”

his words only added to the tension in your abdomen, the burn in your stomach getting hotter and hotter.

“i’m gonna cum,”

“go ‘head baby, cum all over my cock,” he said, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips.

you whined out, chasing his lips for another kiss but he denied you with a shake of his head.

“i wanna hear you,”

you looked into his eyes, seeing a reflection of yourself in his glossy eyes. mascara smudges, lipgloss gone, hair a mess. all because of him.

“fuck!” you moaned out, wrapping your legs around his waist and throwing your head back. he was quick to guide your head to face him, he kept his eyes locked on yours watching your pupils dilate as you came undone.

your walls fluttered around his cock, clenching down as your orgasm hit you like a heavy wave. he pulled out quickly, finishing himself off with heavy and breathy moans.

you watched as he came. thick, white ropes of cum decorating your stomach and abdomen. his abs tensed up with each spurt of cum and his hips still bucked up.

he let out a final breath into the crook of your neck. both of your bodies shook against each other, hot, sticky with sweat and cum.

he leaned up out of the crook of your neck looking into your eyes and you watched as they gleamed, such a rare light in his eyes but you were glad you were able to see it.

he pressed his lips to yours, this time it was slow and deep. there wasn’t any hunger or lust, just pure passion.

“i’m sure you won’t fail that test,”

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest & photo of leon from @/laughingwallaby on twitter)

notes: if you wanna be on my tag list pls message me hehe! or fill out the form below (just to make it easier on me :D)

“If you’ve been following the instructions in your books,” Professor Sharp called out, “your potions should start turning pink as you stir it. Once it’s the right shade you may place the final ingredient in.”

Y/N watched in fascination as the contents of her cauldron began to change colour with every clockwise rotation of her wand. Although she had now been attending Hogwarts for two years, magic never failed to amaze her. She couldn’t believe she had gone the majority of her life not knowing it existed. The colour eventually shifted to the pale pink that Professor Sharp had spoken about and Y/N added the crushed moonstone and watched it take on a pearlescent sheen. 

“Ten points to Slytherin, Miss Y/L/N. Would you care to share with the class?” Sharp loomed over her shoulder, peering into her cauldron. Y/N watched as the class looked over curiously and caught Sebastian’s eye. He raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed with her, and looked down at her potion as if to say well, go on then. She leant forward to smell the contents of the cauldron, trying to decipher the scents coming from in front of her. Petrichor, wildflowers and…oh. Y/N blinked and leant back so she could pick up the coffee beans Sharp had left on each station so they had a palate cleanser. After a quick smell of the bitter grounds she turned to her cauldron again. Oh.

“Well?” Imelda asked her.

“If it’s all the same, Professor. I’d rather not,” Y/N muttered, her face flaming. The class broke into a chorus of whispers, all trying to guess what scent had turned the Hero of Hogwarts a pretty shade of pink. Although it was hidden well, Y/N watched as Sharp’s mouth twitched up in amusement before he moved on from her.

“What did you smell?” Imelda whispered to her. Y/N shook her head, her heart thundering in her chest. She couldn’t tell anyone she had smelled Sebastian’s smoky cologne, the one that seemed to stick to him all day even though he barely used it. Imelda looked between Y/N’s red face and her cauldron before looking across the station to Sebastian and a knowing smirk fell on her features. “Sebastian…” Y/N shot her a warning look, which Imelda pointedly ignored. “What do you smell?”

“Nice try, Imelda,” he chuckled and stirred his own potion. “I’m not falling for that.”

“You’re both no fun.”

“Just because yours is probably something predictable like broom polish doesn’t mean we’re not fun for not wanting to share,” Y/N shot. Imelda let out a laugh and patted her friend’s hand. 

“Careful there Y/L/N, I’ve still got some cards up my sleeve for you.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Y/N glared at the girl next to her, stomach churning nervously. Imelda just grinned at her before adding her own crushed moonstone to her cauldron, signalling the end of the conversation. Y/N was vaguely aware of Sebastian watching them curiously from across the potions station and turned to face the raven-haired girl next to her, clutching the sleeve of her robes. “Imelda.”

“Calm down,” she laughed quietly and leant in so no one else could hear. “Your not-so-secret crush on Sallow is safe with me. I actually quite enjoy watching you two act like you don’t have feelings for each other.” With a wave of her wand, Imelda tidied her potions station and left the class swiftly, just as the bell rang outside. Y/N cursed the day she met the girl, and more specifically, became friends with her after completing all of her stupid broom trials, and quickly cleaned her own station before leaving the classroom. It wasn’t until she was halfway to the Great Hall for dinner that she realised what Imelda had implied with her parting words. 

Sebastian couldn’t have feelings for me, she wondered, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully, could he? No, that’s ridiculous, she shook her head to rid herself of the assumption.

“Careful, Y/N,” a hand grabbed the back of her robes and gently tugged her back a couple of steps before she could fall off the Grand Staircase. “You’re usually more aware than this, where did you go?” Sebastian looked concerned and pulled her away from a crowd of students that was walking their way. Y/N looked up at him, craning her neck more than she used to when they met in fifth year. Sometime in the summer between fifth and sixth year Sebastian had really come into his own. He had always been attractive, but somewhere along the way, without her really noticing, he had suddenly shot up and filled out. The jumper he wore to fight the perpetual chill in the dungeons did little to cover up the muscle that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. 

“Dinner, I’m starving,” she lied, freeing her robes from his grasp so she could continue to walk towards the Great Hall. “How’s Ominis? I haven’t heard from him much since he went on his unsanctioned visit to see Anne.” Although he grumbled like he was annoyed, Y/N knew deep down Sebastian was a little pleased that his best friend and sister had finally started to court a few months ago. Apparently watching Ominis pretend he hadn’t been in love with her since they were children was sickening to say the least. 

Y/N was relieved when Anne reached out to Sebastian at the beginning of their final year at Hogwarts and extended an olive branch. She watched as Sebastian had read the initial letter, a wide smile on his face and unshed tears in his eyes before he brandished the piece of parchment at her excitedly. The twins weren’t as close as they used to be, but they were slowly mending the bridge that had burned down with their Uncle’s untimely death. 

“Where do you keep going? What are you thinking about?” Sebastian asked her. His hand came out to smooth the crease in between her eyes, lingering for a moment before he pulled away. 

“You.”

“Oh really?” he arched an eyebrow, a sly smile falling on his lips. “Is this where you finally admit I’m the most handsome student at Hogwarts?”

“I thought you had three years worth of self-imposed trophies to say just that.”

“Yes, but none of those mean anything without your agreement.” Something danced behind Sebastian’s eyes, a look Y/N couldn’t quite decipher. She was used to his charming nature and the confidence he seemed to exude, but every so often he said something and paired it with a look that was different. He looked…uncertain? Hopeful, maybe. 

“I didn’t realise my opinions held so much weight for you.” 

“And here I thought it was obvious that I hold you in the highest regard.” The air around them changed. Y/N couldn’t pinpoint it exactly - it wasn’t tense, but she felt a palpable shift in energy. She looked away from him and hoped he couldn’t see the blush that she felt rise to her cheeks as she walked into the Great Hall and made her way to the Slytherin table. She found Poppy seated with Imelda, heads bent together as they chatted quietly. They looked up as Sebastian and Y/N sat down, and a downright devilish grin was plastered on Imelda’s face. 

“The rumours about what you can smell in Amortentia and refused to share in class are already circling.”

“Don’t start,” Y/N groaned as Sebastian filled her plate with food. 

“The majority seem to think you can smell something that relates to Sebastian or Ominis,” Poppy added.

“Ominis?” Sebastian stopped filling Y/N’s glass with pumpkin juice, his tone incredulous. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“How would you know?” Imelda shot at him. “Has Y/N told you what she could smell?”

“This whole conversation is ridiculous,” Y/N cut in, rolling her eyes. She grabbed the large bowl of mashed potatoes and spooned some onto Sebastian’s plate. 

“It’s not that bad, Y/N,” Poppy gave her a reassuring smile. “I think it’s sweet. What you can actually smell, that is.” Y/N paused, the piece of chicken intended for Sebastian’s plate wobbling precariously on the serving spoon.

“How do you know what she can smell?” Sebastian looked up at her sharply, though there was no malice in his voice.

“Imelda told me.”

“Imelda,” Y/N hissed at the girl across the table from her at the same time Sebastian gave her a reproachful look. 

“You told Imelda?”

“I didn’t tell her anything,” Y/N protested. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. She could hear a few of her classmates around them mutter about her, all supplying options for what she could smell in the love potion. “I think I’m going to grab something from the kitchens instead,” Y/N stood and quickly made her way out of the hall before any of them could follow her. The moment Y/N was out of earshot Imelda leant across the table to hit Sebastian across the back of his head.

“Ow,” he rubbed his head and gave the raven-haired girl a disapproving glare, “what was that for?”

“You’re an absolute idiot, Sebastian Sallow.”

“Imelda…” Poppy nudged the girl gently before offering Sebastian a sympathetic smile. “What she means is - ”

“Oh, I have no doubt she meant it.” Later Sebastian would vehemently deny to anyone that he was pouting like a scolded child after being accosted by Imelda Reyes, but at that current moment all he could do was sulk as he pushed some peas around his plate. 

“I did,” Imelda offered him a saccharine smile and shrugged unapologetically at Poppy, who looked disappointed at the pair. “If you don’t go after what you want, Sallow, others are going to take it from you.”

“Y/N isn’t some belonging that people can just have, least of all me. She’s a person with her own thoughts and feelings.”

“Who said I was talking about Y/N?” Sebastian’s head shot up to meet Imelda’s self-satisfied smirk and let out a low groan. “My point is,” she continued as he (rather dramatically, Imelda thought) lay his head down to rest on the table, “you’re in Slytherin. We’re ambitious to a fault, and when we know what we want we strive to achieve and obtain it. What’s stopping you from going after Y/N?”

“We’re just friends.” The lie Sebastian muttered on a daily basis felt thin to even his ears, and clearly neither Imelda or Poppy was impressed either. 

“Why could you smell her in the Amortentia then?” Poppy asked.

“How did you know I - oh. I’m impressed, Sweeting. That was very Slytherin of you,” Sebastian laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “What would you both have me say then? Y/N I’ve been in love with you since fifth year when we fought a troll together in Hogsmeade?” he asked rhetorically. If his face wasn’t red with embarrassment before, it was now as the words slipped out of his mouth. “I don’t - I mean, I do? I think. I didn’t mean - ” His stammers were interrupted by Poppy’s quiet laugh. 

“Oh Sebastian, you don’t need a pair of working eyes to know that you’re in love with Y/N Y/L/N. I think the only person oblivious to your feelings is Y/N herself.”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I ruin our friendship?” he asked quietly. The girls shared a look, and if Sebastian would have looked at either of them he would have noticed a silent conversation happening between the pair.

“Okay, look. I told Y/N I wasn’t going to tell you this, but you’re behaving like a lovesick second year and it’s making me sick,” Imelda flicked a pea at Sebastian in disdain. “Now, I can’t confirm it, but I strongly suspect that her Amortentia did smell of you.” Sebastian gave her a disbelieving look and sent the pea back across the table at her. “I agree that it lacks proof, but I do happen to know for a fact that she does have feelings for you. She told me herself.”

“She what?” That caught Sebastian’s attention, and that of a few people around them as well. Imelda shot them all a glare and they quickly turned back to their own conversations.

“If you tell her I told you I will hunt you down like the animal you are and use you as target practice for the beaters. I know where you sleep, Sallow.”

“She…” Sebastian was at a loss for words as he looked at Poppy for confirmation, who nodded uncertainly in agreement. “I need to go speak to her,” he muttered, more to himself than the girls in front of him. He continued to murmur quietly to himself as he hauled himself up and out of the Great Hall, his expression wavering between surprise and bliss as he left.

“When did Y/N tell you she liked Sebastian?” Poppy asked once he had left.

“Oh, she didn’t. But I think we can both agree neither of them was going to do anything without a nudge, don’t you? Could you pass the pumpkin juice?”

*

Y/N let out a quiet sigh as she snuck back into the Slytherin Common Room. It was nearing midnight, and although she wanted nothing more than to fall into her bed she trudged through the silent room instead to sit and wait for Sebastian by the fireplace. After leaving the Great Hall, Y/N had trekked her way up to the Room of Requirement to spend some time taking care of the various magical beasts in her vivarium. The animals couldn’t pester her like people did, asking her questions she didn’t want to answer, and worst, ones she didn’t have the answers to. She couldn’t understand why everyone was pushing their way into her business; why did it matter what (or who, she thought dryly) she could smell in the Amortentia? So what if she could smell Sebastian, and who was Imelda freaking Reyes to tell her she had feelings for her best friend.

Well, Y/N chewed on her lower lip as she stared into the dying embers, he was rather handsome. Something he would take great satisfaction in if she admitted it out loud. And she supposed, if she was really thinking about it, he was quite funny, and charming, and smart, and possibly the kindest person she knew, and - oh Merlin, she had feelings for Sebastian Sallow. 

He was her best friend, and hadn’t her aunt always told her those made for the best life partners? Not someone who you just existed with, but someone who knew you, knew every part of you, and would still stand by you. Not that she was thinking about spending the rest of her life with him. Y/N felt a blush rise to her cheeks as an unwarranted image of her in a white dress and Sebastian looking absolutely striking in a suit came to mind. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” A low voice startled her, and Y/N pressed a hand to her chest as she took note of Sebastian sitting in the armchair next to her. He bit his lip in amusement at her shock, but was smart enough to keep his comments to himself.

“How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough to watch you groan to yourself twice and turn the most enticing shade of pink,” he teased. “Where do you keep going today?”he asked, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help with?” Sebastian offered. Yes, Y/N thought to herself, you can start by bathing in bubotuber pus.

“I’ll be fine, Sebastian. There’s no need to fret.”

“You battle trolls for fun, I think there is some need to fret.”

“You’ve battled more than one troll with me, too.”

“Ah, but there’s the obvious difference. You don’t worry for me the same way.”

“You can’t mean that,” Y/N sat upright in her chair, a withering glare on her features. “Of course I worry about you, you idiot.”

“Why is everyone calling me an idiot tonight?”

“Clearly it’s warranted,” Y/N sniffed in annoyance and sank back down into her seat. How dare he say she didn’t worry for him, all she’s done for the past two years was worry about him.

Sebastian could tell he had said the wrong thing. He knew - of course he knew - that she worried and cared for him. No one else would have witnessed and experienced everything they had together in their fifth year and still stood by him afterwards. It was never a question to Y/N whether he needed forgiving. Even Ominis, who had been with him since before he could remember, needed a while to come back around and speak to Sebastian again, but she didn’t. Granted, it had taken a couple of weeks as things had happened in quick succession, from the death of his uncle, to fighting Harlow, then Rookwood, to finally defeating Ranrok; but there Y/N was, sitting next to him at Professor Fig’s memorial, silent tears running down her face as she clutched his hand tightly for comfort. 

“I apologise,” he reached out to take her hand. “It seems I’m not quite done putting my foot in my mouth whenever you’re around.”

“Yes, it seems so.” Her words were flat, but she squeezed his hand back gently to let him know all was forgiven. Sebastian had the overwhelming urge to take Y/N into his arms and never let go, but also reprimand her at the same time. She was always the first to call him out when he was being a prat - which, he admitted to himself, happened more often than not - but she always forgave him for it moments later.

He took a moment to watch as she stared into the flames once more. His eyes roamed over her features, from her brilliant eyes, down the slope of her nose and rested on her mouth. Y/N could give any Ravenclaw a run for their money with the amount of wit she fired, and even though Sebastian was often on the receiving end, he loved it. He loved the way she rolled her eyes at him when she shot a particularly sarcastic or dry comment his way; he loved when she teased him and made him question his sanity and oh, he adored it when she would shoot him a rare, flirtatious comment.

He loved her.

The thought took his breath from him. He had said it out loud in the Great Hall earlier, but it was unintentional, and he wasn’t quite sure of it then, but now…now he was sure. He was in love with her. Every part. He wanted to share every day, every night, every moment with her. 

“You’re staring.”

“You’re beautiful,” he replied without thinking. He watched as a faint blush dusted Y/N’s cheeks and his heart stuttered in his chest. How could he ever doubt how he felt for her? “What did you smell in the Amortentia?” Sebastian asked, a sudden surge of confidence hitting him.

“Sebastian,” Y/N sighed heavily, “I don’t want to talk about it.” Y/N turned to look at him, a pleading look on her face. She was tired, so tired, at having to pretend she wasn’t irrevocably head over heels for the man next to her. She feared if he asked her any more questions he would see straight through her, and then their friendship would be ruined and he would want nothing more to do with her. No, the logical part of her brain replied, Sebastian is too nice for that. Instead he would let her down gently, with the soft tone one would reserve for an injured animal or a sick child.

“I could smell you,” he blurted out. Y/N blinked once, not quite sure she had heard him properly, before looking over at him slowly. “Your perfume, to be more specific. And the smell of rain, from the night we danced out in it. Also those strawberry tarts you love to eat at breakfast.” He stood from his seat before sinking to his feet so he could kneel in front of her on the stone floor. “All I could smell was you.”

“Sebastian…”

“What did you smell?” he asked her again, a hint of desperation in his eyes. She thought there was nothing more between them but friendship, that he could never look at her the way she wanted him t, but the look in his eyes right now…Merlin, how could she ever think that? Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked down at him and watched as his hands came to rest on her knees gently. She could feel the heat of his skin through the material of her trousers and all she could think of was more. She wanted more. “Darling? I’m putting my heart on the line here.”

“It was you,” she whispered after a moment, afraid to say it much louder. “You, when we danced in the rain. You, when you showed me the clearing full of wildflowers. Just…you. It was all you, Sebastian.” She met his gaze, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “It’s always been you, I just didn’t realise it until lately.”

“You’re supposed to be the smart one,” he teased lightly. He raised his hand to wipe away a stray tear, his thumb stroking her cheek gently. “Why are you crying?”

“I…” Y/N let out a sound that was between a sob and a chuckle and slid down so she was kneeling on the floor with Sebastian. “I think I was too scared to tell you before, so I pretended like it didn’t exist. These feelings have been bottled up for so long, only to be let out now…” she wiped away her own tears this time and offered him a rueful smile. 

“Oh darling,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, “it seems we’ve both been a little slow, hm? How could you not see I’m hopelessly head over heels for you?” He rested his forehead on hers, watching with slight satisfaction as her eyes fluttered closed in anticipation and longing. “You have been, and always will be, my one and only.”

“You’re going to make me cry again,” Y/N protested weakly. Sebastian chuckled quietly and brushed a stray hair from her eyes. He watched as the wheels turned in her head, and knew she was deep in thought when she started to chew on her lower lip thoughtfully. 

“Come back to me, what are you thinking?”

“It’s highly improper.”

“My favourite,” he smiled crookedly and ran his thumb across her lower lip. “Tell me.” Instead,  after a brief moment of hesitation, Y/N closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his gently. She pulled away all too soon for Sebastian’s liking, her eyes darting across his face for any reaction he disapproved of - or worst, didn’t enjoy - their chaste kiss. He pulled her back in slowly, giving her more than enough time to pull away should she choose to do so, and pressed his lips back to her sweetly.