“This Is Your Pilot Speaking…”
Fourth wall break where Colonel Caleb is the pilot of your flight. He came a really, really long way to claim what’s his.
Pairing: Colonel Caleb x fem!reader
Words: 2.2k
A/N: This was literally my own fantasy while I was flying home from somewhere, and I figured ‘hey, I should totally write this down.’ Enjoy~
CW: Dubcon, stalker behavior, impact play, P in V smut, slight exhibitionism, oral, hair pulling, praise, degradation, improper use of evol, MDNI.
You were on your way home from yet another boring work trip. You usually loved travel, but not when it involved simply relocating to another gray cube and wasting the day away droning about numbers.
After scanning your ticket, you entered the boarding tunnel with your carry-on trailing behind you on the floor. It was always the same: maneuver your way past the metal threshold, flash a tired smile to the flight attendants, and try not to hit anyone’s foot with your bag as you shuffle along to your seat. You couldn't wait to just put in some headphones and try to take a nap. That is, if there wasn’t some screaming kid nearby.
You huffed as your body awkwardly slumped into your window seat; you’d get nauseous if you didn’t have something to lean against, and it allowed you to see how much farther down the ground was while landing. You wanted to get home, cuddle your pet, and be done with it all.
Eventually, you heard the chime of the intercom indicating an announcement. Although you probably knew the spiel by heart at this point, you were too anxious to have both earbuds in or have the music play too loudly before takeoff. The chipper, masculine voice was soon resounding throughout the entire plane:
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentleman. This is your pilot speaking. On behalf of Patriot Airlines and our crew, welcome aboard flight P777 in service to San Diego. Our estimated flight time is approximately 1 hour and 26 minutes, and we will be cruising at an altitude of 35,000 feet. We are expecting smooth weather conditions along the way, but we ask that you please keep your seatbelt fastened whenever you are seated–”
Taken aback, you furrow your eyebrows. You tried and failed to wrack your brain around the voice. It sounded…strangely familiar. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but the longer the announcement went on, the heavier the pit in your stomach got. The confusion was disturbing you more than you would’ve expected.
“In just a moment, the flight attendants will perform the safety demonstration, but first I’d like to announce the winner of our On Deck raffle. One of you has been randomly selected to enjoy an exclusive tour of the flight deck as well as special refreshments up here with us for the entire duration of the flight–”
You notice the flight attendants at the front of the plane exchange glances like they don’t know what’s going on, but they try to keep their concern under wraps to not cause alarm.
“Seat number 27F, congratulations! Please make your way to the front of the plane.”
Wait, that’s…my seat, you think to yourself. Your body stiffens, needing a moment to compute the declaration. The safety demonstration ultimately begins while other passengers start whispering around you, their eyes searching before finally landing on you after seeing the row label on the wall. You turn your head to the side, and your row mates are already shifting themselves out of their seats.
You have no choice but to rip your earbuds out and move: body sliding across the leather, feet hitting the carpet, your heart pounding in your chest. You were still disturbed by the familiar yet unplaceable voice. A flight attendant extends an arm out towards the flight deck door with a too-bright smile plastered on her face.
The door slides open, and you suspected you’d be immediately greeted by the pilot. Instead, the moment you stepped inside, the door slid shut behind you and made a click as if it locked itself. The hairs on the nape of your neck stood on end and you noticed that for some reason, the lights were dimmed.
Both the pilot and the co-pilot were seated with the backs of their chairs to you. A gloved hand reached toward the intercom speaker, made the takeoff announcement, and got the plane in the sky without another word. You had to buckle yourself into a seat against the back wall that was probably meant for staff members.
Once stabilized, the pilot finally stood.
He was wearing a hat and a long, black overcoat.
Heavy leather boots.
The tall, dark figure closed the distance between you two.
He stooped down in front of you as if he was admiring a puppy, and finally the light struck his features.
You audibly gasp.
“What’s up, pipsqueak?” Caleb rasped.
Your eyes became large saucers on your face.
“Caleb?! You…how is this–”
“Shhh, don’t worry. I’m here now.” Caleb wraps his arms around your upper body, his scent hitting your nostrils like a wall. A fresh-smelling cologne, apples, and something slightly powdery.
He unfastens your seatbelt for you and steps back so you could stand. He towers over you, and you spend what feels like forever just looking at him:
The stitches on his uniform, the Farspace Fleet insignia on his chest, the pores on his face.
This was real.
Your arms fly out to pull his body against yours. You nuzzle into his chest then pull away only to look up at him, placing a hand on his cheek,
“Caleb…oh my god.”
A wide smile spreads across his face and his eyes were pools of yearning,
“Yeah…it’s really me.”
You pull him firmly against you again and he chuckles lightly, “You have no idea how hard it was to find you.”
You want to ask him how he did it, what was involved, but he seemed to have other plans.
“This flight isn’t that long…and I don’t want to wait another second.” His hands trail down your arms before calling out over his shoulder in a too-casual voice, “Keep her steady, will you?”
The co-pilot turns, and the color drains from your face. Beads of sweat trickle down their face, and the sheen of the duct tape over their mouth catches the light. They seem to be glued to the chair by some…unseen force.
Your eyes quickly dart from the restrained co-pilot back to Caleb, and when he recognizes your unease, that distant look in his eyes you know so well from the game surfaces.
“I came a long, long way to show you–”
He pulls a telescoping police stick from his back pocket and promptly flicks his wrist to extend it, placing the tip under your chin to tilt your gaze up,
“–that you’re mine, and only mine.”
He closely stalks around your body to get behind you, and suddenly you feel a sharp sting behind your knee.
You yelp, dropping down to the floor on one side before he strikes the other. Both of your knees are on the floor now, and he hums a happy little tune while making his way back around to stand in front of you.
“Open that pretty mouth,”
He casts the stick aside and it clatters to the floor. His hands immediately go to his zipper, pulling it down, his voice rough,
“–and take it.”
His cock springs free from his slacks right in front of your face. It’s so close you can feel the heat radiating off of it. All the ridges and veins were in devastating detail, and the wetness already smeared across the tip made an involuntary moan escape you.
He huffs a single laugh, grabbing your hair to yank your head forward.
You part your lips and will your throat to take him all the way in. You suppress your gag reflex and breath out of your nose while he slowly pushes his hips forward.
“What a goooood girl. You’re taking my cock soooo well, pips.”
He gives a hard trust after saying that, and you hum with either delight or horror - you couldn’t tell which. The way he began obliterating your mouth and throat was obscene and punishing. Tears start to prick in the corners of your eyes while spit runs down your chin. You hear his breathing get more and more frantic above you,
“Do you know how much planning this took? How many times I went through every single step over, and over, and over again in my head. How many times I rehearsed everything that was said over the intercom.”
His grip in your hair somehow gets tighter, and you whimper.
“Once I started to realize things seemed a little off in my world, I couldn’t shake it. Then, the signs just kept coming: I’m not alone in this universe. If the girl I grew up with doesn’t want me, I can just have you instead.”
His cock twitched in your mouth and his movements become sloppy.
“So I didn’t stop. Day after day, I showed up at work with an alternative agenda: every Deepspace Tunnel mission became my personal voyage to try and find signs of you. ‘Cause even with my evol, I needed at least a general direction to go. My intention wasn’t enough.”
Your jaw was starting to hurt and spit was drenching the collar of your shirt. The impact of his tip hitting the back of your throat was making you dizzy.
“I saw an opening, took a chance, and found myself here. What luck. I hid away for a while to observe your people. The United States of America, Let Freedom Ring. How interesting.” A small pause, “I became one of you, proved my expertise as a pilot–”
Your core ached with need as you felt him approach his undoing, only able to listen and take his brutal, fat cock.
“I realized tech from my world was way more advanced than yours is here, so it didn’t take me that long from there to identify you, study you, find you–ngh!”
Hot warmth flooded your mouth and you urgently forced yourself to swallow it all down. Rope after rope of hot cum emptied out of him as he shuddered above you. You knelt there - your bones aching and your chest heaving - until he was done. But even then, you weren’t allowed any kind of adjustment as you felt a gravitational pull shove you up and pin you against the back of the pilot’s chair.
Before your hands even fully braced onto the leather, you felt his hands on you. In one swift motion, Caleb yanked your pants down and desperately pressed his hips against your bare ass. He took the liberty of smacking his slick length against it - two hard and heavy taps.
“Don’t you see? I’m the one you need. You adore me so much, I know you do. There’s no need to hide it.”
The contrast between his forcefulness and the gentle fingers that brush your hair away from your neck was staggering.
The clouds you could see through the front windshield just flew right past like any other day. As if you weren’t being ravaged by a fictional character with superpowers and very severe stalker tendencies. It blew your mind, and no part of you could quite keep up.
He leaned forward to place a kiss on the soft skin just below your ear, whispering,
“Tell me you’re mine.”
You swallowed and exhaled a shaky breath.
Smack
His flat hand collided with your bare ass cheek.
“Tell. Me. You’re. Mine.”
Smack
Harder this time.
You yelp at the impact and rush the words out, “Yes, yes Caleb! I-...I’m”
He was already lining himself up with your entrance, and before you could finish your sentence, he forced his cock deep inside you.
Your head flew back in a silent scream, hitting his shoulder.
“Ohhh you’re so wet, pips…Fuck.”
He starts to pull in and out of you, the sound of your hips slapping into each other soon thoroughly saturating the room.
“You were saying?” He growled into your ear, thrusting deeper and harder.
You couldn’t speak. Your sanity was devolving at a horrifying rate where only Caleb mattered and only he existed in this multiverse,
“Mmm, ngh…-”
He thrusts even harder as if that’ll get it out of you. You cry out, arching your back,
“Ca-mmmh, I-I’m yours.”
The tone that erupted from Caleb’s chest was animal, his hands clasping onto your hips in a way that would surely leave bruises, “Yes, yes!”
Your panting synced up with his, the sweat on your bodies glistening. Your sounds became more desperate while his became more primal, engulfing the room with pure, unadulterated need. Your silky walls spasm around him, and you knew you were close.
“Caleb, I’m close–”
“I know, baby. Give it to me.” he moaned in response, “I’m the one who loves you, I’m the one who can handle all of you, I’m the one who can take care of you. Do you understand?”
“Yes!” you blurt out whorishly, then your velvety center clamped down onto him as your orgasm crashed over you.
He followed closely behind, shooting hot spurts of seed deep into your eager, sopping hole with a guttural groan, “Yeah pipsqueak, take it…take all of it...”
…
Your eyes flutter shut, and you have absolutely no idea what happened between that and when you walked off the plane, having landed at your destination.
With your suitcase trailing behind you, you wander into the parking lot with wobbling legs to find your car and drive home.
Drive home after, whatever that was?
What if it didn’t even happen?
Maybe it was all just a dream, but why was your entire body so sore?
You’d check for marks and bruises when you got home, but that almost didn’t matter as much as the words that echoed in your mind:
“...Don’t think this is the last time you’ll be seeing me.”
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