𝓶𝓮𝓲 𝝑𝝔

🔞#Caleb — [nsfw!] audio 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝑒𝒷 𝓍 𝓂𝒸/𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇 cw: s*xual content, f*ngering, or*l (f!receiving)

headphones recommended for better experience, enjoy! ♡

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Hot Take! — Sylus's teasing

Sylus is basically the reason my brain goes feral at 2 AM AHAHAHHAH.. So here’s me spilling all the messy, spicy thoughts y’all didn’t ask for💗 Enjoy!

──★ ˙

Sylus is the type to tease you for his own pleasure — not to make you feel good (at least not right away), but to watch how fast your pride crumbles under the weight of his touch. He doesn’t rush. Never. He drags it out — every glance, every touch, every word laced with that slow, deliberate heat that sinks beneath your skin and coils low in your belly. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He wants you aching. Squirming AND desperate. Best all at once. He wants you simmering with that kind of want that trembles just under the surface, right there between your legs, already swollen with need.

He watches you like a predator, with a smirk that says he knows you better than anyone else, even if you still pretend you’re in control. But you’re not. Not when his long fingers ghost down your bare back, not when his breath brushes your neck and you feel that impossible shiver roll through your spine. It's torture in it's purest form.

Sit on my face

cw: p*ssy eating, face rid!ng, overst!mulation

──★ ˙

Caleb would not let it go — he’d beg and whine about it all week, like a man possessed. You’d be this close to snapping, ready to shut him up just to get some peace. But he'd just give you those eyes. Big, warm, greedy — begging you to give in. The kind of look that undoes you completely.

So eventually, you do.

And the moment you straddle his chest, hovering over his face, he goes utterly quiet. Staring up at you as if you hung from stars.

The first lick is slow. Deliberate. Just enough pressure of his warm tongue to make your hips twitch. He would wrap his arms around your thighs and pulls you down tighter, burying his face between your legs like it’s the only thing that’ll shut him up.

But you both know that would be a lame joke. He never shuts up.

Don’t Make a Sound

cw: mutual masturb*tion, footj*b, dirty talk, heavy petting, clothed p*ssy eating, risk of being caught, caleb is a FREAK

character(s): caleb x f!reader (smut)

──★ ˙

𝓗e’s pressed so hard against your foot that you can feel every pulse through the fabric of his sweatpants. Like, seriously — how the hell does a guy get this hard just from you messing with him under a blanket? Ridiculous

The rough fabric of his pants can’t hide the way he twitches every time your toes curl just right. Oh, and he’s trying so hard not to lose it. The way his jaw tightens, the shallow breath he’s fighting to swallow down.

You smirk, pushing just a little harder.

It’s that perfect combination of slow and deliberate teasing — not too much, not too little. The kind that makes him shiver without letting him lose control. You love how vulnerable he looks, caught between wanting to lose it and holding back.

Oh, and he hates that you know exactly what you’re doing.

“God, you’re torture,” Caleb mutters, voice low and thick. You can feel the heat in his words, the way they slide over your skin like fire. You bite your lip, pretending not to notice how his cock pulses under your foot, desperate and aching.

──★ ˙

I think that drunk Sylus would be the BIGGEST BABY EVER.

Literally the worst — But not in a bad way. In a “how is this the same man who threatened someone with a knife between his teeth last week” kind of way.

In a way like literally all over you. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he just has to be right next to you. Like some annoying sticker that you can’t peel off no matter how hard you try.

You could never imagine him getting actual drunk, all you saw in your mind was just a little tipsy big man who can totally handle himself — Always thought he’d be the type to get all quiet and broody.

WRONG.

This man turns into a human leech. You’re just trying to exist and suddenly he’s there, latched onto your arm like his life depends on it. Mumbling half-coherent things like “where are you goin’…? stayyyy” while putting his forehead against your shoulder like he’s been mortally wounded.

You try to walk away? Nope. Try to do your own thing? Also nope. He will find a way to stick right there, getting all clingy and sloppy, like a big needy pup.

He gets this look too — all soft-eyed and sleepy, like you’re the only stable object in the universe. And god forbid you try to move away from him. He will whine. Actually whine. You’ve never seen this man ask for anything in his life but suddenly it’s “don’t go” and “just stay a little longer” like??? be serious.

ALSO, gets so offended if you try to tease him about it later. Full denial. “I wasn’t drunk” he says, despite having spent an entire hour tracing your hand with his finger like it was a treasure map.

Birthday Boy

cw: unprotected s€x, foodplay, c*m eating

character(s): caleb x f!reader (smut)

Birthday banner just dropped and I haven’t known peace since. I had no choice. Hope you like it! 🤍

──★ ˙

𝓨ou don’t even know how it started.

You two were sitting and spending Caleb’s birthday like you always did — messing around was in your veins since childhood. It was good like this. Familiar and warm.

It was late at night, the candles in the room were flickering, casting golden shadows across his skin. The table was cluttered with wrappers and crumbs —an evidence of the birthday feast you’d both been enjoying. All kind of sweet-treats. Cookies, colorful candies, chocolate-dipped strawberries, cupcakes with way too much frosting. Most people would pass out by the sight alone.

But Caleb had insisted on celebrating “properly,” which, in his mind, meant a sugar-fueled evening filled with laughter, teasing, and stolen kisses between bites.

You sat cross-legged on the sofa, a plate resting on your knees with half-eaten treats. Caleb lounged beside you, his eyes catching the light. He was watching you more than the sweets. You caught the subtle curve of his lips as he flicked a cupcake liner aside, still smirking.

“I still think the strawberry ones are overrated,” he said softly.

“And I still think you’re insane,” you laughed, dipping your finger into the whipped cream on the plate.

His eyes darkened, sharp and playful. You slowly brought your finger up and gently traced a dollop of the fluffy cream across his lips. Leaning in without thinking, pressing your mouth over his to lick it away. He smiled against your mouth. The taste of sugar and him — there was no better thing in the world.

“Hold still,” you murmured.

"Oh now you're giving orders? I like it." Caleb chuckled, a low sound vibrating through his chest as he settled back, slumping himself on the backrest of the sofa. Letting you take whatever you wanted, like always — he would give you the world if he could.

The tip of your finger was already slick with whipped cream once again. You playfully smudged it onto his jawline. Your smile smug all the way through it.

“You’re gonna get me all sticky,” he scoffed.

“Shh.” You dipped your head down. “Birthday treat.”

Your tongue traced a path where your finger had just been. His eyes closed a bit, a soft sigh leaving his nose.

“Is it my birthday or yours? I think I got lost.”

You hummed softly, pulling yourself up to pamper him with little smooches over his cheek.

“You know I've always been selfish, I had to blow out at least one candle on your cake when we were younger.”

“Always greedy...” He huffed with amusement.

You laughed softly, nudging the plate out of the way before you swung one leg over Caleb's thigh. Settling in his lap.

Caleb raised an eyebrow, his grin instantly widening.

“Oh, we’re doing that now?” he said, tone cocky but fond, already shifting beneath you so his hands could roam your thighs. “Is this part of the birthday gift, or…are we improvising?” his hips shifted under you, not even trying to hide how hard he was from the past hour of your shared kisses.

You smiled softly to yourself, the warmth of the moment making your cheeks flush. Without thinking, you pressed your hips down against the hardness beneath you. It was out of pure habit by now. That always earned you a beautiful hitch from him.

Leaning close, you whispered into his ear, “You haven’t even unwrapped the best part of your gift yet, Caleb.”

Your fingers slid down to find his hand, gently guiding it upward until his fingertips grazed the delicate strap of your tied dress.

Caleb's eyes shone darkly like the night sky, his gaze locked on yours with a mix of hunger and awe as his fingers slowly loosened the satin strap.

“I'll have to make sure to make the most of it, then...”

...

Now you know how it started.

Because by now, you were both breathless — gasping softly between each shared movement. Your dress had been tugged down to your waist, the fabric bunched loosely around your hips, long forgotten.

Your chin rested lightly on Caleb’s head, his hair warm beneath your skin, grounding you in the moment. Your arms wrapped around him instinctively, fingers clutching at the warmth of his back.

“Mnn—...C-Caleb-”

He laved his tongue over your nipple, lapping up the last traces of cream with single-minded focus. The rough drag of his tongue against the sensitive peak sent sparks skittering down your spine, making you arch into him with a sharp gasp. Caleb growled low in his throat, the vibrations rumbling against your breast, as he suckled harder — determined to taste every last bit of the sugary confection.

His hips slammed into yours with a brutal, almost punishing rhythm — each impact sending a shockwave of sensation ricocheting through your core. The wet, obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your choked cries and his guttural groans.

He let go of your nipple at some point, licking up the string of saliva that connected his lips with your skin.

“Fuck, pips...you're squeezing me so fucking tight...” Caleb grunted, his length pulsing and throbbing inside you.

You were biting feverishly on your lip, your eyes glistening almost as if you were about to cry from pleasure in any second, thighs quivering on each side of his hips.

God — So fucking sexy.

Caleb shuddered, his shaft twitching inside your constricting wetness as he milked your needy whimpers. He could feel your walls fluttering around him, gripping his thick cock like a vice.

“Y-You're— Fuck...You're trying to suck me in or what?...” he drew his eyebrows together, the tight embrace of your silky heat was making him lose it.

You leaned back a bit, your lips parted as you panted heavily. You supported both your hands on the edge of the sofa as your hips rolled — riding him, coupling with his movements. Your breasts bounced up and down while you two were lost in your desperate love-making.

Caleb's eyes zeroed on the sight where the two of you met. Your pussy pink and swollen from stimulation, even in the dim candlelight he could see everything. He needed to seal the picture deep into his mind. You were sliding on him so good it made both of you see stars. The new angle made him rub over your g-spot with each hump.

“Oh...M'god...” you whimpered, your head tipping back as you moaned. The corners of your eyes wetted with how much you were feeling.

Caleb didn't knew where the fuck to look at this point. At your blissful expressions which he was always getting off for. Your perky titties that were jumping right before his eyes — or the way your squelching pussy was gripping him to death.

It was straight up crazy.

“Holy shit...” he whimpered, his face scrunching as he tried so hard not to cum yet.

“I-Is it too much?..." you whine, your voice quivering even though your hips don't give up in their moves.

“No. Fuck. No — M’ just tryna last… but it’s fuckin’ impossible.”

“N-No...No...Please, just a little longer...for me...” you whimpered, milking your greedy pussy on him.

He pursed his lips, leaning his head back and squeezing his eyes hard as he tried to stay sane. His fingers dug into your plushy bum, guiding you against him.

The thick pressure coiled low in his belly twisted with need, aching and insistent. Caleb’s eyes locked onto yours again, wild and desperate, silently begging without words. His chest rose and fell in rapid bursts, every inch of him pulsing with want and restraint. The sensation was overwhelming, exquisite and torturous — all at once.

Your breath hitched, body trembling as the pleasure built inside you, rising like a wave you couldn’t hold back. The heat pooled low, spreading slow and fierce. One of your hands left the edge of the sofa to drift down between your legs, fingertips pressing hard against your clit. Rubbing yourself in quick and tight circles.

You gasped, hips bucking instinctively as your body tensed and twisted under the rush. The world blurred around the edges, everything narrowing down to the fierce, pulsing heat building faster and faster.

“Caleb…Oh—… right there…” you gasped, voice shaking as your body tensed.

The world exploded in white-hot bliss, your muscles clenching around him, your mind lost in the storm of sensation he’d ignited. Caleb bit on his lip, his focus solely on you, trying to please the best he can. You felt it all brewing inside of you, ready to snap at any second.

“Fuck—Caleb, I-I’m coming!” you choked out, voice thick with need and release.

Caleb groaned deep in his throat, his own breath ragged as he held you through every shudder, every gasp, every tremble. He feels as his release draws up. Your clenching pussy was a test from heavens above for him.

His vision blurred with the overwhelming rush. He held you tight, his arms wrapped around you like a lifeline, anchoring you as your body trembled through the waves of your orgasm. His breath was ragged, every inhale sharp as he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek.

As the waves of your pleasure begin to ease a bit, he slipped out from inside of you, his cock sprung out wet and hot across your abdomen with a loud slap. Both of you hissed sharply — you at the sudden loss of fullness, Caleb at the cold air that hit him.

With a shuddering groan, he gave in, his body stiffening for a moment before he exploded — warm, thick streams of his cum spilling out onto your bare stomach, causing you to shiver.

“Ah—” he groaned, his body shaking with the intensity of his orgasm.

You breathed deeply, your thighs shaking with aftershocks. Biting onto your lip, you gathered his release with your fingers, bringing them up to taste.

“So...After all, I did get you sticky.” you teased with a smirk, your breathing still evening out and your cheeks flushed.

Caleb huffed, shaking his head. How you loved seeing him like this. Satisfied, content. His usually guarded face — now all pink and pretty. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull yourself up, pressing a tender kiss to his cheek.

“Happy Birthday, Caleb.” you hummed softly, moving astray strands of hair away from his forehead. “May all your wishes come true.”

His eyes searched yours, his longing gaze meeting your dilated pupils. The corners of his lips turning softly into a loving smile.

“My only ever wish...Is to be with you — forever.”

You smiled gently and nuzzled your face in his temple. Letting yourself feel his warmth. The weight of how real the moment was, pressing on you both.

“Then we shall make every moment count...”

Hold Me After

cw: p*ssy eating, (not so) dry humping, thighf*cking

character(s): caleb x f!reader (smut)

aaaaand before we begin! thank you so much for all the love on my last Sylus post — your comments, reblogs, and general interactions absolutely made my week. You guys are insane in the best way, and I adore you for it!! <3 It makes me genuinely so happy seeing people enjoying my work because I try to put my everything in it

THIS FIC is brought to you by my sleep deprivation and the ghost of my dignity. Warning! This is 90% my Caleb obsession and 10% me desperately trying to keep up. I take no refunds. Proceed with caution and enjoy! :>

──★ ˙

𝓘t was summer — Last year of highschool

The school year was practically over. Graduation was just a few weeks away, and for the first time in ages, the idea of “what comes next” didn’t make your stomach twist with anxiety — it actually excited you. You were done with the routine, the crowded hallways, same questions, same answers. There was something thrilling about the thought of stepping into the world on your own terms.

You’d always dreamed of that moment. Of being your own person, following your own rhythm. It should’ve been exciting. You were ready for it — or at least you told yourself that.

But the truth was, independence didn’t always feel like freedom. It felt like silence, sometimes. Like boredom. Like being left behind.

It also meant change. Real change.

Especially when it came to Caleb

You used to see him every day. He was your partner in crime. A best friend, someone with you didn’t have to pretend anything. You knew each other too well for that. You shared the same roof, same stories, the same stupid inside jokes that could only build after years of proximity.

He’d tease you, you’d mock him, you’d steal food off each other’s plates, pinch eachother, even argue at some times. The unstoppable bickering between you two was a no stranger.

It was simple like that

But now? Now everything felt…grown-up. Fragile. Like if you said the wrong thing, you’d ruin the balance.

He’d started college — aviation. He was chasing clouds while you were stuck finishing essays and pretending high school still mattered. And Caleb changed — not drastically, but in little ways that stung. He spoke differently now, carried himself with a quiet kind of confidence. He was sharper. More thoughtful. His voice deeper, his face leaner. There was still the same warmth when he smiled at you, still the same teasing edge — but something else, too. Something you couldn’t name without feeling stupid for noticing.

He was visiting you and grandma as much as he could, when he wasn't heavy with his responsibilities, like now — early June when holidays were almost there. When the sense of nostalgia filled the air and made everything rush back to you.

However — Today the house was still. Caleb had been out all day, catching up with old friends he hadn't seen since winter. Dinner was long over. Grandma had gone to bed early with one of her crime novels. You were laying on your bed, freshly showered and still warm from the steam, your hair damp against the back of your neck. The heat had lingered even after sunset, turning your small room into a suffocating bubble of humid air and sticky skin. An old fan clattered weakly at the foot of your bed, doing more noise than good.

It was too hot to think. Too hot to sleep. You lay on your stomach, chin propped on the pillow, staring at your phone screen and scrolling through the same posts, fingers moving out of habit more than interest. Pictures. Videos. Nothing new. You were bored out of your mind.

That restless kind of bored that made your skin feel too tight. That kind of bored that made you itch for something, anything to feel.

You sighed heavily and locked your phone, you let it rest on your chest, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness. It was so hot. It was so fucking hot.

It felt ridiculous. But your body wouldn’t settle, no matter how many positions you tried, no matter how many apps you opened and closed again.

There was nothing to do

There was no one to talk to

And you couldn’t stop thinking about Caleb

Not in that way. Not…like that.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But he’d been so different lately. Distant, quieter. Still kind, still Caleb — you caught him looking at you sometimes. Not in a way that you could call out. Just…a second too long. A flick of the eyes when you weren’t wearing a bra under your tank top, or you were wearing something shorter. You never wanted to admit it to yourself, you never let such thoughts even cross your mind — You felt bad about it.

But on the other hand.

You weren’t stupid

You noticed the way his eyes flicked away the instant you met his gaze, like he was caught but unwilling to admit it. That brief pause, that half-smile that never quite reached his eyes. It made your heart both race and ache, all at once.

Your legs shifted, thighs pressing together. You exhaled slowly through your nose. Your hand moved to rest on your abdomen, fingers mindlessly fumbling with a string of your sleep shorts.

It was dumb

But you can still feel it — the way he looked at you, those barely-there glances that never failed to set that weird sensation in your stomach. It made your skin tingle in the worst way possible. Your heartbeat quickens just at the thought of it, a slow, taunting ache blossoming inside you.

Without really thinking, your fingers twitch at your waistband. Your hand drifts, almost hypnotically, sliding underneath the soft fabric of your shorts.

Not because of him. Of course not. He was just a passing thought.

A shiver runs up your spine as your fingers press gently against your underwear. The touch is light at first, a delicate tease as your fingertips trace the smoothness of your panties. You feel the faint heat beneath, a warmth you hadn’t fully acknowledged until this very moment. It makes every nerve in you ignite.

With an heavy exhale you begin to circle your fingers. Your touch slow at first, barely there. Just enough to make your body tense, to make your hips lift slightly into your own hand. Your other hand gripped the sheets. Your breath stuttering. The world outside faded, leaving only the uneven rhythm of your breath and the gentle rise and fall of your chest.

Your mind drifts again, tangled in fantasies of what those looks might mean — what might possibly happen if you dared to meet his gaze and hold it.

And you imagine his voice.

Low

Breathy

Over your ear

Saying your name the way he doesn’t.

Just a passing thought. Yeah

You press harder, your fingers finding that perfect spot over your underwear, that little bump covered by the fabric, rubbing in gentle, measured circles. The friction — the pressure — it’s not enough, but it’s a good start.

You know this won’t take long

Not when your body already knows what it’s chasing. Not when you’ve been carrying this heat all day, pretending it wasn’t there.

You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet, a soft sigh escapes. Your legs part a little wider, giving your fingers more room to move, pressing harder, faster.

Your whole body is flushed, caught in that delicious, desperate chase. You catch the inside of your cheek with your teeth. And just as your thighs started to tremble—

...

Click

The door swings open

Caleb.

You freeze

"Hey pipsqueak, I've—" you can swear that his face just went through at least 15 emotions, all at once.

....

"Shit...Sorry—"

You lay wide eyed. Heart hammering. Hand still buried under your shorts, caught in motion.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. He didn't knock — because he never had to knock — and now there he is — Caleb. Standing in the doorway, just like he’s always done, comfortable, casual — except this time, he had seen everything.

In one frantic motion, you yanked the sheets over your hips, sitting upright so fast your head spun.

“Jesus—Caleb, knock—!” you blurted out, voice breaking somewhere between anger and panic.

He had seen.

“I—fuck,” he stammered, eyes darting to the floor, but he didn’t step back, didn’t shut the door.

“I didn’t know — I thought you—"

“Y-you were supposed to be out—" you muttered, your voice strangled.

“I was. But I left my charger in your room,” he whispered, voice low and ragged. “Didn’t think…”

....

Your skin prickled. Your heart wouldn’t slow down, no matter how hard you tried.

“…didn’t think I’d walk in on you doing that.”

You swallowed hard, chest heaving.

“W-Well—congrats. You did. So—"

He still stood there, caught like he’d stepped into a dream he wasn’t sure was real. His gaze raked over you—slowly, like it hurt to look and hurt more to stop.

You both stared at each other, locked in the kind of silence that stretches forever. He didn’t move. Didn’t leave. And for the first time, you saw something in his expression that wasn’t brotherly at all.

Something else flickered there — a shift you didn’t know what to do with.

His gaze was too steady. It made your stomach clench. You saw the way he shifted his weight, the way his hands curled and uncurled at his sides. You were both hovering on the edge of something irreversible.

“Were you...gonna finish?” His voice was quieter now, lower. Not teasing. Not mocking. Just… raw.

What. The. Fuck

"Wha-...C-Caleb, what are you—"

“You were gonna finish, right?” he asked again. “When I walked in?”

The way he said it — not teasing, not cocky. Just…careful. Wanting. So painfully full of restraint it almost hurt.

Your eyes were like two red coals, Caleb never saw such desperation on your face, he really did done something to you. As if this insane desire was matching up to his own - long suppressed one.

“I wasn’t—”

“Don’t lie.”

You looked at him and you didn’t even knew what to say anymore.

He ran a hand through his hair. He was flushed — from frustration. Confusion. Something messier.

You swallowed, your face turned crimson by now.

“Caleb—”

“Please...Tell me what you were thinking about.”

You shook your head, your eyes dropping to the floor.

“Tell me,” he said again, quieter.

“I… I don’t…”

"Please. I need to know." he groaned as if he was going through some kind of pain

You couldn't find your voice at this moment.

Caleb took a nervous second of look back, then clicked the door shut gently, the sound barely audible. He paused, motionless, as if weighing his next move. Then, with slow, deliberate steps, he approached the bed and crouched beside it.

“Did I ever cross a line with you pipsqueak?” he asked. “Ever made you uncomfortable?”

“I...No.” you shook your head.

“Then tell me the truth.”

You bit your lip, eyes cast down.

“Were you thinking about me?”

You were silent, but the corner of your eye twitched. That was everything he had to know.

And he breathed out like if you had just knocked the air from his chest.

Caleb's heart raced, pounding against his ribs like a drum. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing. You, touching yourself, thinking about him? It was everything he had ever fantasized about and more. But it was also so, so wrong.

He swallowed hard, trying to push down the dark, depraved thoughts that flooded his mind. He couldn't think about you like that.

“…Shit. Please don't do this to me." he exhaled heavily.

His voice was low, like it barely made it out of his throat. Like he regretted the question even as he asked it.

You didn’t know where to look. You couldn’t meet his eyes. Your thighs squeezed together and it only made it worse.

He knew he should put a stop to this conversation right now, should push you away and pretend he had never heard your confession. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't bring himself to deny you, to deny himself the chance to be close to you in a way he had always secretly dreamed of.

He was too fucking selfish, too consumed by his own dark desires to do what was right.

“I was trying so hard not to be a sick fuck. So hard.” his face was washed with something you've never seen before. His hand moved out, intertwining his fingers with yours. He swallowed. Hard. His eyes flicked up to your face.

"I'm trying to be good , pipsqueak...I really am. But I don’t know what the fuck we are anymore.” he muttered. ”And do you?”

Your fingers curled tighter around his as you were watching how your hands connected.

“I…” your voice came out small. “I don’t know.”

Caleb exhaled through his nose, eyes shutting like he was trying to keep something inside from spilling out. But it was already too late for that.

“I keep thinking it’s just a phase,” he said. “That I’ll get over it. That it’ll pass.”

His eyes met yours, and they were haunted. Desperate.

“But then you look at me like that. All wide-eyed. Like you’re scared of me. Like...you don't know me? Or worse — like you’re curious.”

Your eyelashes fluttered, your eyes taking in every inch of expressions that were washing over his face at this very moment.

“I hate myself for it. For all of it.” he continued

“I’m not...—proud of what I thought,” he admitted. “Of what I felt. Of the things I imagined when I was alone.” you could swear that his eyes were freaking glossed as he rambled.

"Caleb..."

“I'm so sorry pips. But...I just— I don’t think I can play pretend to be your good proper brother anymore. It's driving me batshit crazy. I’ve been swallowing it down for so long. Every glance. Every goddamn brush of your skin against mine. And it’s—it’s eating me alive.”

He stared at you like he needed you to hate him. Or need him back.

“I don’t want to be this guy,” he said. “I really fucking don’t…”

He moved closer, forehead pressing against the edge of the mattress like it physically hurt to hold back.

“If you tell me to leave, I swear to God I will. I’ll walk out that door and never bring this up again.” his voice came out a muffled desperation.

“But if there’s even a part of you… that feels this too…Then please. Let me stop pretending.”

You felt your throat tighten, the words caught somewhere between fear and fire.

“I…I thought I was crazy.”

He stilled. Moving his face up to look at you.

“I thought...it was just me,” you whispered. “The looks. The way my stomach would flip when you’d come into my room—” you felt your eyes starting to sting, you bit your lip to prevent your emotions from showing. Caleb was watching your face silently.

“I...I hated it. Hated...how wrong it felt. How wrong I felt. But you were always so calm. So normal. Like it didn’t even cross your mind. And I figured it was just me being…sick.”

“No,” he said instantly. “God, no, baby—”

“I know,” you whispered. “Now I know.”

Your fingers curled around his.

He was silent, his eyes bright as all the stars brought together. His lips were parted slightly, as If he couldn't believe his own ears. He swallowed and exhaled through his nose, rising slightly on his knees.

"Can I...Can I kiss you?—"

“Yes.” your response came faster than you could think. You thought about it. Fuck you thought about it so many times, even if you wouldn't admit it to yourself.

His breath shuddered. He leaned in slowly, as if he was giving you every second to back out. But he never found any hesitation.

He closed the distance. His lips brushed yours like he was testing the idea of a kiss, not taking it. Feather-light, his breath trembling over your plushy lips.

You made a small, aching sound in the back of your throat — not even a word. Just need.

And that was it.

He pressed his lips against yours. He kissed you, this time real. His hand curled into the sheets near your hip, still not daring to touch your skin, but his mouth moved over yours like he was starving for it. Like kissing you was a sin and a salvation all at once. You whimpered against him, your lips parting, and he groaned into your mouth like the sound had been ripped straight from his chest.

Your hand reached up blindly, curling into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer with a breathless little noise you couldn’t hold back. That was all it took for him to lose the last of his control.

He deepened the kiss — not harsh, but needy, hungry in a way that felt like it had been building for years. And you kissed him back — shy, nervous, a pure instinct.

As if driven by some quiet courage you didn’t know you had, your free hand found his wrist. You squeezed it gently.

He pulled away to catch his breath, his eyes flicked open, searching yours — surprised but not pulling away.

Slowly, hesitantly, you guided his hand downward, until his palm rested against your inner thigh. You held his hand there for a heartbeat, your heart hammering in your chest like a drum. And then, with a trembling breath, you guided it further.

Right between your legs.

Caleb froze for a second — his breath caught in his throat. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he looked at you with something fierce and tender all at once.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, voice rough and barely controlled.

You nodded, cheeks flushing hotter than before.

He shuddered and leaned back towards you. He started to plant soft kisses over your jaw, sliding down to your neck. He nuzzled his nose into your collarbone, letting out a shaky breath as he let his fingers fumble underneath your sleep shorts.

His breath caught — sharp and audible — and for a second, his whole body visibly shuddered.

“Holy—…” he whispered, voice cracking in his throat.

His fingers pressed gently against the dampness soaking through the thin cotton, like he couldn’t believe what he was feeling. You squirmed, your face twisting slightly as you felt his fingertips grazing your panties.

“You’re—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “Fuck, you're soaked..”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his face flushed, lips parted, chest rising like he couldn’t catch his breath.

“You got like this… just from touching yourself?” he asked, eyes searching yours, stunned and wrecked.

You nodded, shy but unable to lie.

His fingers kept moving slowly over the soaked fabric, each drag making you twitch beneath him. It was maddening — warm, steady pressure just shy of what you needed, and you couldn’t stop the quiet, aching sounds spilling from your throat.

Caleb was staring at your face like he was watching something sacred. His jaw was tight, eyes wild, and his lips hovered just inches from yours — close enough that you could feel every shaky breath.

You whimpered, hand fisting the sheets beside you.— like the sound was dragged out of your chest without permission. Your eyebrows pulled together.

His breath caught again — like every sound you made hit him straight in the chest.

“You’re already shaking,” he murmured, voice rough. “And I haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

Your breath shook — a sharp, broken sound that made his whole body jolt.

“I can feel you through them,” he rasped, fingers teasing along the edges of your panties. “You’re so wet I could probably taste it through the fucking fabric.”

You squirmed. His mouth found your ear, he kissed it slowly, reverently, as his thumb dragged down the soaked center of your underwear once more — slower this time.

“I’m...trying to go slow,” he murmured against your earlobe, words hot and wet against your skin. “Trying not to scare you. But, fuck, pipsqueak…”

He groaned, soft and strangled, his hand pausing again.

“You feel like this and expect me to be normal?”

You shifted, thighs twitching around his wrist, and his fingers twitched in response — a helpless reflex.

“God, pips… I’m so hard right now.”

He swallowed hard, eyes dark and desperate.

“I swear, it’s like my cock’s about to burst.”

He leaned downwards. His lips found the corner of your mouth, moving down to jaw, then your neck — slow, open-mouthed kisses dragging down every inch of your skin. You whimpered uncontrollably.

“You have to be quiet,” he murmured, barely above a whisper, “Because if Gran' hears, we’re both fucked.”

Caleb’s hand massaged you for a moment longer, trembling with every touch — before he slowly pulled back, his eyes dark and searching. His fingers hooked under the hem of your shorts, sliding them slowly down you.

You swallowed hard, cheeks flushing even more, caught between embarrassment and want

“I hate that you couldn’t finish… because I walked in. I’m gonna make it up to you,” he vowed, voice desperate but soft. “I promise.”

“I want to do this right,” he whispered, voice low, rough with need. “I want to make sure you feel everything — all of it.”

Caleb stripped your shorts off with practiced ease, the fabric pooling at your ankles. He dropped to his knees beside the bed again, hands firm as they slid beneath you, pulling your hips to the edge with a quiet hunger. His breath hitched, eyes locked on the darkened center of your underwear, his pupils wide with want. He wetted his lips slowly, gaze flicking up to meet yours — a silent question, or maybe...just maybe — a promise. He leaned in.

His mouth found you through the damp fabric, a low hum escaping him immediately as he kissed you there. His nose grazed against you as he breathed in, savoring the scent of your arousal. You gasped softly, hips jerking upward in response, and his eyes didn’t leave yours for a second — dark, burning, and full of intention.

”H-Hah...Caleb—" you whined out

He lingered there, lips pressing to the soaked fabric as if testing your patience — or his own. He exhaled a shaky breath, then slowly, deliberately, let the tip of his tongue drag along the dampness, tasting you through the thin barrier. His hands gripped your hips tighter as he let out a low sound of approval, the vibrations humming against you.

His mouth moved with purpose now — no longer tentative, but hungry, sure of the effect he had on you. His tongue traced slow, deliberate circles, then flicked with precision, alternating rhythm and pressure in a way that made your thighs tense around him.

Your face twisted with that kind of pleasure — that you didn't even knew could exist - until now of course.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured into you, his voice breaking on the edge of awe. “You taste so sweet… I need—” his breath caught, “—I need to make you cum…"

And with agonizing slowness, he hooked his fingers under the edge of your underwear, his fingers tracing the lacy frill that was already soaked by your arousal. He lifted his eyes to yours once again — a silent pause, waiting for your permission, your surrender. When he saw it, he pushed the fabric aside, baring you to his heated gaze.

"Gods—You're so...pretty, pipsqueak."

He took his time, as if memorizing every detail, before leaning in again. This time, there was no hesitation. His tongue met you fully — wet and hot — It made your hips jerk up harshly, your hand flew to cover your mouth. Fuck and the whine he made...was pure need. Each drag of his tongue was hurried, worshipful, drawing a gasp from your nose as your body arched into his mouth. You couldn't blame him, he waited for so long after all. He held you there, pinned by the weight of his hunger, devouring every reaction with his mouth, his breath, his eyes.

You shivered like you've never did before. A bead of sweat rolled down your back. Your fingers found his hair, threading through the soft strands, pulling instinctively as your hips arched toward his mouth. He responded with a low growl, gripping your thighs tighter, holding you open, guiding you exactly how he wanted you — nowhere to run, nothing to do but feel.

His lips sealed around your clit. Tongue closed around the delicate bud, flicking and teasing with maddening precision, the tip of his tongue blessing it with kitten licks, sending shockwaves of fire straight to your core.

"C-Caleb, I-I can't—" you whimpered over your hand.

“I wanted to get my hands on you...for so long...” he stammered, then sucked — hard. His lips locked tight around your clit like he was trying to drink the years of longing straight from your body.

”I...I just wanted to do this to you...” his fingers stroked your thighs, tender but desperate, like he couldn’t decide whether to hold you or worship you.

“You don’t get it,” he gasped against your heat. “You don’t fucking get it. I’ll ruin myself for this. For you. I’ll tear myself apart. I’ll fall on my knees, I’ll beg, I’ll fucking crawl. I'll do anything you ask me for—"

He whined like a damn puppy. It was cute — in it's own way, but so fucking sick and twisted at the same time.

“Can’t believe you’ve been walkin’ around with this between your legs…and I couldn’t touch it,” he whispered raggedly, kissing your inner thighs, his voice cracking like he was close to crying. “All those nights thinking about it. Thinking about you—how you’d taste. How you’d sound.”

He groaned like it hurt to say it, to feel it, to taste it. His fingers trembled slightly as he spread your folds open, almost like he was afraid you’d disappear if he wasn’t careful. He pressed his tongue flat against you and dragged it up with aching precision, then locked eyes with you again, pupils blown wide.

You try to hold back, to stay quiet, but the tight, uncontrollable squeeze inside you betrays your will. Your hole contracts reflexively — even though there’s nothing inside, it clenches around empty air, like it’s already craving him, already hungry for the fullness you know only he can give. Your hips buck upwards sharply, and he pulls you by your hips even harder.

“Shit...please. Please just...use my...—Use my face.”

You swear you could feel your eyes almost rolling back your skull. A single tear rolled down your cheek — From the immaculate pleasure you couldn't comprehend. Your body shuddered, hips jerking instinctively as he devoured you, tongue pressing harder, driving you closer to the edge. You grind into his mouth, desperate, needy, gone — and he doesn’t stop. He won’t stop. He’s slurping you up through the edge, into it, past it — until your vision whites out and your body forgets how to do anything but come, violently, endlessly, wrecked on his tongue.

As soon as you whine out into your clasped over your mouth hand — you feel him stiffen. A strangled cry — half a whine, half a gasp — ripped from Caleb’s throat. His whole body tensed like he’d been shocked, a sharp ache crossing his face.

“Fuck—” he gasped, pulling back slightly, breathing heavy, a flush spreading across his cheeks.

You froze, heart pounding, eyes wide.

”C-Caleb? What's...What's wrong?" you breathed out harshly, still struggling to compose yourself.

Before you could ask more, he shook his head, swallowing hard, voice hoarse and embarrassed. “I… I just… came,” he gasps out, breath ragged.

Came from freaking watching you come. Fucked.

A flush rises to your cheeks, a mix of surprise and something tender swelling inside you. You didn’t expect this vulnerability, this raw honesty from him. It makes your heart skip, even as your body aches, still pulsing from the way he touched you.

“Caleb…” you whisper, voice soft but steady.

“I-I'm okay,” he whispered, voice trembling. He reached up to brush your sweat drenched bangs from your forehead.

“Fuck, it never happened to me before” Caleb huffed as if he couldn't believe himself. He swallowed hard, biting his lip as if to hold back something fierce. He pushed himself up and leaned over to press a kiss to your temple.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, voice rough but tender. “I didn’t mean for that to happen now. I just… I need you. Need you so much.” His hands trembled slightly as he reached for your panties. He gently pulled them back into place, like he was protecting you — even though inside he was burning up with need. You furrowed your eyebrows in question.

“I don’t deserve to touch you bare—not yet.” he explained. Then, without breaking eye contact, he slid his hand down to the front of his pants and freed himself.

You saw him — like really saw him for the first time. Your breath hitched. That was this moment, a flicker of time when everything else fades away. His cock was still hard and pulsing, it was something you’d imagined a thousand times, but nothing could prepare you for the reality of it.

Your eyes traced every line, every vein, the way it throbbed with need. The heavines of his arousal was suffocating. You felt a flush creeping up your neck, your heart pounding as a mixture of excitement, nervousness, and something almost like awe washed over you. It was bigger than you expected, powerful and alive, and seeing it like that—so close, so exposed—made your skin tingle all over.

For a heartbeat, his confident, desperate facade cracked, and a flicker of fear passed through his gaze. Were you scared? Did he push too hard, too fast? There was a flicker of worry in his eyes, like the intensity of your stare unsettled him more than you realized. “If you’re… if you’re scared, I get it. I just—”

“No,” you breathed, voice shaky but sure. “I’m not scared.”

He still didn’t move. His hands hovered, frozen in the space between reaching and retreating. You saw how tightly his jaw was clenched, the way his brows pulled together like he was bracing for rejection.

“I’ve just… never seen one in real life before,” you said quietly, eyes flicking down, then back up to meet his. Your cheeks burned. “And it’s… bigger than I thought.”

Silence.

Caleb’s entire body tensed like you’d hit him with something physical. His jaw dropped a little. His eyes went wide — stunned — and then something deep, guttural escaped his chest, like the sound was ripped from him. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered, voice breaking as his hand flew up to cover his mouth, like he was physically trying to hold back whatever that did to him.

You could see it — the way his stomach tightened, the way his cock twitched, visibly, painfully. His knees almost buckled.

"I'm gonna lose it..." he groaned.

He moved slowly, but with purpose — stepping back into your space, his hands curling tight around your thighs. He didn’t rush. Instead, he pressed himself against you—through the thin fabric of your panties—his desperate need to feel you flooding every inch of his body. The thick, hot head of his cock found the damp center of your panties, and you both sucked in a breath at the same time.

"A-Ahh—...Caleb–" you hitched sharply.

He let out a deep, broken groan as he rocked his hips forward — slowly, like he was trying to savor every millimeter of friction. The tip of his cock dragged along your soaked fabric, sliding right through the heat of your folds. He hissed, forehead falling against your shoulder, like the sensation alone had him unraveling again. His hand moved down to his own cock, fingers wrapping around the thick shaft, stroking hard and steady while he pressed himself into you.

“Your clit… fuck, it’s right here,” he whispered breathlessly, dragging the tip of his cock over the wettest spot he could find through the fabric.

You whimpered. He whimpered too, his control fraying with every slow stroke. Your body reacted instinctively, thrusting forward as if desperate to chase that burning touch, though you didn’t even understand how just panty-rubbing could fuck with your head this hard.

You couldn’t handle it. The urge to reach out, to pull him closer, to feel him pressed against you in a way that wasn’t just teasing, was unbearable. You let out a soft moan, your hands twitching, craving contact.

Caleb caught it immediately. Of course he did. He was watching your face more than anything in this world. It was always like that. Even when you two were still kids. He always wanted to catch every emotion, to know if you were scared, shy, uncomfortable — It became a habit of his own. Without hesitation, he shifted, moving over you until he was hovering, chest pressing down on yours gently, his heavy breaths mingling with yours.

He kissed you fiercely, lips claiming yours in a hunger that matched the ache between your thighs. His hands slid down to your legs, wrapping around your thighs with a gentle grip.

“Squeeze your thighs for me,” he murmured against your lips, voice thick with desperate need.

You looked at him strangely for a moment but without thinking about it for too long — you pressed your thighs together. And Caleb not wasting his time, guided himself between your legs — Slowly, carefully.

You saw his cock sliding out from between your thighs, looking straight at you, making your breath hitch. Your eyes flicked up at him as your teeth tortured your lower lip. He held your eyes as he began to thrust—not inside you, but between your thighs, grinding firm and steady. The fabric of your panties stretched and slickened under the pressure.

Caleb groaned deep in his throat. His hands roamed your body, holding at your hips as he continued to thrust between your thighs, hips rolling in needy circles, desperate for every inch of your warmth. His mouth claimed yours again, kissing fiercely, tongue exploring with a desperate hunger that matched the relentless grinding below.

“Gods—...you're so soft here pipsqueak..." he muttered over your lips as he pulled away to rest his sweaty forehead over yours.

You whined a little bit, trying to keep your noises mindful. Your eyes were locked down on your closed thighs. The sight of his hardness vanishing and reappearing between your plushy flesh was making your head spin.

"S-Squeeze them tighter..." he choked out, your eyes flicked up to his face, watching it closely.

You clenched your thighs harder, grinding up a bit to help his cock catch onto your clothed folds better. And when you did that — the look on his face was absolutely everything. His face scrunched in pleasure, eyebrows drew up together, he looked as if he was about to cry — at least.

It was that easy for you to make him lose his mind.

”Shiiiit...Just like that—Good girl.” the nickname made something ugly churn in your stomach. He used to call you that earlier. Many times. Like when you got a good grade on your test, or when you achieved something he knew you could do. But now? It was an entirely different thing — and it made you mewl.

”You're making so much noise pips, you're some kind of pervert?...” he chuckled softly, even though his breath was ragged and he was clutching his self control tightly.

"S-Shut up..." you squirmed, your hand pushing at his shoulder.

”Don't get your panties in a twist pipsqueak...I always knew you liked when I called you that — You used to be fishing for my praise, y'know?...”

"I-I wasn't—"

"You were. No need to hide it pips...I think it was cute — it still is, if you ask me..." he snorted softly, laughing through his nose.

Then he groaned, his hips speeding up in it's moves. Your sweaty thighs slapping together.

"Ah...Fuck...” he hissed, taking a shaky inhale.

”You know, pipsqueak...I think, that you've always liked my attention on you.”

His hand sank down, to press himself better over your underwear as he fucked your thighs. You whined, and he smiled. Fucker.

”When you were younger you always found your way to have my eyes on you. You were pinching me, biting, kicking, stealing my stuff, showing off...” he huffed, his eyes closing as he tried to keep himself at the bay.

”But now when you got older, you understood some things...You know what I mean, yeah?"

You squirmed as the head of his cock firmly rubbed over your center with each thrust.

"N-No—"

”You know.”

He leaned down to your ear, placing a hot kiss over it.

”When you started to understand how to rile me up in a much better way — Like...You stopped wearing a bra whenever I was around. Those teasing touches when we would watch a movie together. When you—Ah...Shit—When you would tickle me because you knew I wouldn't put my hands on you anymore....You can tell yourself that you didn't know what you were doing, but deep down you know you wanted me to notice. You're not stupid, and i'm not stupid either.”

”Caleb—” a shiver rippled down your spine as he murmured into your ear. Not only from how close he was, but because of how right he was. You were losing it fairly.

”You're not going to shy away now, are you?” he scoffed, his hips slapped foward, making noise. He let out a shaky moan.

"Fuck i'm so close already..." he muttered over your earlobe, your fingers tightened on his shoulder, your eyebrows drawing together, overwhelmed from the friction. He moved his thumb to press his tip strictly over you.

"Y-You feel, too good...I can— Feel...How wet you are...It's doing things to me that you won't understand.”

You let our a shaky breath and moved to wrap your arms around him. You needed him close in this moment, heart to heart. Your thighs started to tremble as he rubbed against you, that similar ache blooming deep inside you once more, it was all purely for him, only for him.

"Gonna cum baby?..." he caught onto it immediately, his efforts doubled.

You choked down a moan and nodded, your back arching subtly as you bucked up to meet his delicious movements.

"H-Hah...You gonna cum with me, okay?..." he breathed over your skin. Everything was becoming dizzy so fast. Your eyes closing, all of your senses heightened.

You felt — Everything

Starting from the way his ragged breath shook over your ear, how your slick with sweat bodies slid against eachother as if they were meant to be together, the squelching noises you two were creating, the subtle slaps that eachoed through the walls of your suffocating room when he pressed close. It was so much. It was beautiful, because it was you and him, just like it should always be.

You begin to feel a knot after knot, tying down in your abdomen. Your thighs clamp instinctively, you grip tighter around Caleb as if holding onto the very source of your rising pleasure. The friction builds relentlessly, a delicious torment that tightens your belly and curls your toes. You can feel the muscles deep inside your pussy, contracting and relaxing in an involuntary rhythm — trembling with the power of what’s coming.

Your breath hitches and stutters, uneven and quick, like you’re struggling to catch the air that keeps slipping away. Caleb's hands clutch at your hips, fingers digging into your skin as if trying to hold you close forever. His jaw clenches tight, muscles taut as he fights to keep himself together, but the heat is overwhelming—too intense to control. He breathes deeply against your lips, his eyes squeezed shut.

”Cum for me...P-Please cum for me..." he whines, his face contorting. He's almost there. And so are you.

Just as the wild surge of pleasure begins to shatter your control, your breath catching in ragged gasps, Caleb moves with urgent purpose — he closes the distance, his lips crashing over yours in a fierce, searing kiss that shuts down any cry before it can escape.

And there it is.

You squeeze your eyes shut, Caleb swallowing every single of your moan, and so you are his. Your whole vision went blank as your thighs shook off the stimulation. Pure bliss washing over your body.

You feel the wave of his own orgasm wash over him—hot, intense, overwhelming. His body shakes and his hips stutter — his essence spurting out over the place where you meet, a testament to the fire you’ve ignited together. He elongates the kiss before pulling back from your lips to catch his breath.

The silence afterward feels sacred. Caleb is still above you, but there’s no urgency now. His body is trembling, his chest still heaving, but his hands… his hands are soft. Careful. Like he’s afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t keep holding on.

And he kisses you. Once on your temple. Then your cheek. The corner of your lips. Reverent, unhurried. His touch glides from your hips to your stomach, slowing with each stroke, like he’s trying to calm your body and his at the same time.

“A-Are you okay?” he whispers finally, voice still hoarse with what just happened, but gentler

You don’t answer right away. Just a small nod, soft, but there’s that tiny smile — faint, tender, a little dazed — And it makes his heart melt.

Without a word, he reached over and pulled the hem of his shirt up, tugging it off of him, careful not to disturb you. The fabric was soft against your skin as he pressed it lightly against your lower stomach, where a few stray marks of his release still glistened. His touch was delicate, almost hesitant, as if afraid to break the fragile quiet between you.

”I'm sorry i've made a mess...” he muttered

You shook your head to reassure him. ”We are even.”

He raised his eyes to you and a bashful smile blossomed on his face. He gently swiped the fabric across your skin, wiping away every trace with a tenderness that made your heart squeeze. It wasn’t just about cleaning—there was a sacredness in the way he cared for you, in how he always cared for you.

“I got you,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

You felt the weight of those three words, how much they meant for you, coming from him — gentle and devoted.

He discarded his dirty shirt somewhere on the floor without a care in the world. He reached beneath you, sliding his hands to the edges of your underwear. His fingers trembled just slightly as he carefully pulled them down your legs, his gaze never leaving your face. You feel no shame here, only a profound tenderness as he helps you shed the last remnants of the night’s intensity. He folded them neatly and set them aside — mentally noting to wash them tommorow. Then leaned down to kiss the soft curve of your hip, his lips warm and soothing against your skin.

He moved up, letting himself slump beside you. Intertwining your hands together — As if he has to know you're here, that you're not just a speck of his imagination. His thumb moved slowly over the back of your soft hand, he pulled it up to press a gentle kiss over your knuckles.

Your breathing slows in unison. The chaos of earlier melts into a soft hum beneath your skin. You don’t speak for a long moment, because there’s no pressure to fill the silence. It’s the kind of quiet that only comes when you’re held by someone who sees you—truly sees you—and stays anyway.

Eventually, Caleb lets out a quiet laugh.

“What?” you murmur, turning your head to look at his side profile.

“I don’t know,” he says, exhaling slowly. “I just… I feel like I waited forever for this. And now that it happened, I keep thinking I’ll wake up. Like maybe I fell asleep on the couch while you were ignoring me and now I’m dreaming the whole damn thing.”

You shift, lifting your chin slightly to meet his eyes. “You’re not dreaming, Caleb.”

He smiles, and it’s soft. His thumb traced the line of your knuckles. “If I was, though, I think I’d want to stay asleep.”

You nudge him playfully with your forehead. “That’s so corny.”

“Mm. You like it.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop smiling either.

He leans in and kisses you again—not hungrily this time, but with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. His lips move slow, reverent, and he pulls away just to whisper, “You look like a mess right now.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Caleb, you meanie.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You smile and nuzzle yourself into his lips. With a small, content sigh, he slid his arm around you, tugging you gently closer until there’s no space left between you. You feel his heartbeat thrumming against your back, steady and strong, and it grounds you deeper than any words ever could.

”Can you stay in my room for tonight?” you hummed softly.

”I wasn't exactly planning on leaving, y'know” he murmured quietly, amusement tugging at his voice

”Good.” you smiled to yourself

You both sink deeper into the bed, the softness of the sheets a gentle cradle beneath you. His cheek rests against the top of your head, his breath tickling your hair, his heartbeat a lullaby only you can hear. Your eyelids grow heavy, and a calmness unlike anything you’ve felt before settles over you.

You've never felt more at peace than you did now.

Just before sleep can pull you two under, Caleb’s arms tighten just a little, holding you closer as if to reassure you that he's here.

”I love you.”

That little whisper was everything you ever ached to hear. You didn't realize it until this very moment.

...

”I love you too.”

And in that shared silence, wrapped together in warmth, you both drifted gently into dreams. In his arms, you feel safe. Loved. Whole.

...

And now?

Now the change you were so scared of — turned out to not be bad at all.

Now It felt — Like home.

──★ ˙

I imagine Caleb and MC's early days, when they were both still living at their grandmothers place. Whenever MC would use to have a nightmare or couldn't sleep because of something bothering her, she would sneak into Caleb's room at ungodly hours just to shuffle underneath his sheets.

And Caleb never minded - he wouldn't change anything, in fact. He always pretended to be asleep when he felt the bed dip beside him, but as soon as he felt her small hands tugging at the covers or curling into his side, he’d shift just a little to give her space and make it easier for her to settle. Sometimes she’d be quiet, just breathing softly, and sometimes she’d whisper half-drowsy worries about things. He never told her it was silly. He just listened, his voice low and groggy, mumbling things like “it’s okay pips, I got you” or “we’re safe, promise.”

There was never any question or judgment, just a quiet understanding that this was their thing.

MC would curl up next to him, sometimes burying her face into his back or grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt. If she was shaking, he’d rub her back gently until it stopped. Internally he’d just smile to himself — Because he couldn't be happier that he was her safe place.

And when she finally started to drift off, her breath evening out — Caleb would stay still just a little longer, waiting until he was sure she was okay. Only then he’d allow himself fall asleep too, still facing her, and always ready to jump at any danger. Because even if he never said it out loud, he worried about her just as much as she worried about everything else.

Eventually, they’d both fall asleep like that — her curled up beside him, his arm barely resting around her, the quiet of the night settling back in.

Thinking about pussy-eating Sylus

──★ ˙

He doesn’t just eat you out. No.

He devours you. Like you’re something forbidden, something precious. Like he’s been starved for days and you’re the only thing that can satisfy him.

The second he’s between your thighs — the world stops existing. There’s only you. Only your taste, your scent, and your body quivering under his tongue.

When I say pussy eater, I mean all in. He spreads you open with his fingers like he owns the right to see everything. No shame. No hesitation. Just pure hunger and a mouth that knows exactly what the fuck it’s doing.

He doesn’t rush. His tongue buried deep, working in tauntingly slow, deliberate laps while the bridge of his perfectly sculpted nose presses against your clit— until your thighs shake and you swear you’re seeing stars. His tongue so deep it feels like he’s trying to taste your soul through your cunt.

And it’s messy.

The messiest messy mess you'll ever see. His whole face is soaked with you — dripping from his nose to chin. He doesn’t care. He wants to drown in it, if he has to be honest.

Every whine you make just fuels him. You whimper, fuck, you sob — You try to squeeze your thighs together? Try to run from it? From how much you’re feeling? — He simply doesn't-give-a-single-fuck. He's glued there. You're not going anywhere until he’s had his fill.

And he never has his fill.

His eyes are locked on you the whole damn time. He watches every twitch, every moan, every little gasp you can’t hold back. He needs to see it. He watches every single one of your reactions like it’s sacred. Like your pleasure is some fucking religion and he’s the last true believer.

Not to mention that he's steel hard, throbbing and grinding down into the mattress. Pathetically unable to keep himself still — he bucks up just enough to tease his own pleasure while his mouth devours yours. Chasing any kind of friction because eating you out is turning him on that fucking bad. You can't complain any second because when he groans against you — heaven flashes before your eyes.

Sometimes he pulls back — not to stop, but to slide his fingers inside you and lick them clean, or to spit slow and heavy onto your swollen pussy, watching it slide between your folds, waiting for it to drip all the way down to your fluttering hole — just so he can slurp it all up again.

Shameless.

And he doesn’t just eat you like it’s a favor. He does it like it’s a fucking obsession. Every flick of his tongue is purposeful, every suck, every slow grind of his mouth against your soaked heat is designed to make you beg — not to stop, but to survive it.

Because when Sylus is between your legs, he owns you. Not just your body — he owns your soul, your whole sanity. He builds you up slow, torturously slow, only to tear you down with a single flick over your clit that has you crying out his name, clawing at his hair, cursing the gods for letting a man like this exist.

When you come—holy fuck—you don’t just come.

It’s not an orgasm.

It’s an exorcism.

And the worst part? He’s smirking. That cocky, dangerous little smile that says he knows exactly what he’s doing to you — and he’s nowhere near done.

if you guys enjoy using character ai — I also have an account on here so i'll be more than happy to share!🤍 most of them are some kind of fantasy au but i'm looking foward to some requests ₍^⸝⸝> ·̫ <⸝⸝ ^₎