Clussy Eater

RAFAYEL ⋆˚꩜｡ּ

What you were asking for was absurd! You were pregnant! Heavily pregnant at that, and here you were clinging onto your husband, whining into his ear about how one of his cocks couldn’t keep the hunger you had contained, you needed more.. and you’d beg him on your hands and knees until he complied. :

Your palms clamp down on your husband's strong shoulders, long nails digging into his flesh as he hisses out in pain. You both were underwater, his enormous strong tail holding you up as he tried to lower you down onto his big fat iridescent cock

“No,” you pant out, he had just finished fingering you moments before, and you were sure he was about to deny you more pleasure since he hid his second cock under his scales in between his slit. “Not today, give me more.”

You hug against him, rubbing your finger over his messy slit, lazily brushing the precum dripping from inside him over his soft folds “Please, Rafayel… Please I want more..” you bite your bottom lip hard, noting how your husband crumples underneath you when you stick your fingers inside him, trying your best to urge his dick out. “Please” you whine, pressing impossibly close against him. “Please Rafayel—“

“C-Cutie..” he gasps out in shock when he feels the soft tips of your fingers rub over the swollen head of his sheathed cock, his free one twitches between your puffy folds, desperately trying to push itself inside. Why were you trying to rile him up when you were like this? When he wanted so desperately to hold back.

“No-!” You croak, “please baby, please! Need more.. please..”

“You’re impossible…” he huffs, his ears a nice rose shade of pink like his lips. “I don’t want to hurt you, not when you’re like this..” he rubs his large hand over the curve of your swollen tummy, whimpering when you grind against his thick cock in retaliation “You’re- pregnant, I can’t—“

Your eyes water with despair, even if you both were under the sea, your desperation was evident when he saw your eyebrows furrow up in defeat.

“Damn it—“

You’re flipped around instantly, pregnant body only held up by the thick water around you and your husband’s death grip on your hip, and one hand laying protectively over your stomach. Being underwater really helped you shift in new positions easily…

“You’re damn stubborn!” You almost scream when you feel the tips of both heads prod at your entrances before slowly pushing in. Finally, that stretch you haven’t felt in months found you again… you choke, legs flailing when the rim of your ass stretches around him.. it had been awhile since you’ve felt this full…

“F-Fuck..” he bites down on your ear before pumping his hips, big fat cocks hitting so deep inside you that the one inside your pussy beats against your cervix… it should be painful, this WOULD be painful, but you were lucky, lucky that your husband’s natural arousal worked as a lube and relaxant, it always felt like he was spilling before you even did anything… “Mhhh—“ he gasps, finally embracing the feeling of both your holes wrapping so perfectly around him again “Wanna give you more babies.. wanna give you more of me… don’t wanna let you go ever..”

Your scent was intoxicating, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was drunk of your smell alone. He buries himself deep, grinding the ridges of his abnormal fat cocks against your gummy walls as you holler out into the vast ocean. Any lemurian miles away could hear you being fucked by the sea god, but none would ever dare interfere.

Rafayel lifts your legs with both hands, spreading you open as you slowly fall on his bumpy cocks so they impale deep within you before he thrusts at an abnormally high speed.

You were sure you could see the mix of your juices puddling below you in the water as it squirts out with each sloppy thrust from your husband, but you didn’t have the energy to focus on that when he was abusing your insides.

“Not even done carrying this one and I already wanna put another in you.. you carry my child so well..” he kisses your cheek, a sweet gesture in comparison to the brutal speed he was pumping in you. “You look divine…” the stroke of both his cocks inside you felt so slippery and raw, the mix of the ocean water and the huge amount of cum spilling from him made it so easy for him to hump you like a mere small fleshlight.

“Rafayel-!” You gag, eyes stinging with tears when his cocks massage you simultaneously, rubbing against another despite being in different places..it made you want to scream! “Rafayel!

“Rafayel!!”

It’s like Déjà vu when he stills in you, balls clenching up before spilling loads of his cum inside your swollen walls in short spurts that may have turned your insides white. He rubs against your stomach, eyes crinkling when he tries to feel for your young.. “Are you satisfied?,” he whispered into the shell of your ear, making you weakly shiver into his chest as he continued pumping in you to help you both ride your highs. “I can go another round if you’re up for the challenge..”

XAVIER⋆˚꩜｡ּ

Your star was always quite rough in bed, now that you were pregnant he couldn’t be more gentle..too gentle in fact. You’ve been only getting dry little humps from him, his fingers, but you needed more, you felt like you’d burst if he didn’t give you his all…:

“Xavier?” You were wrapped in a blanket on your husband's lap, he was laying against your pregnant belly, listening and feeling for your soon to be child.

“Mh?” He sleepily responded, holding your hands before rubbing into your knuckles.

“Are you not attracted to me anymore?” You lightly inquired, eyes filled with hesitation and guilt. It was almost inhuman how quickly Xavier sat up, his eyes were wide, and he had stopped rubbing your stomach in exchange to hold you tighter

“Why would you say something like that, angel?” He rubs your back, pulling you into him so he can rub and cuddle into your squishy body. “Am I not making you feel attractive? Because you should know I can’t keep my hands to myself when you’re like this, you look so cute and plump how can I not be head over heels.?” He rubs your sore tummy, mumbling into your shoulder as you let out a soft shy moan. “So full..” he whispers, strong warm hands glowing as he fondles your top so he can rub at your bare breast. He flicks at your nipples, grinding his cock into your ass while you softly whine his name. “See, look at that, so pretty..”

“You haven’t really..” you pant, grabbing at his wrists so you could pull away, but he only pinches and twirls your nipples around more. “You haven’t really had sex with me in a w-while.” Xavier sits still for a second, his round greyish eyes open in shock. So, that was the problem.

“Honey, I’m sorry, let me make it up to you, ok? Lay on your tummy..here” he gets your pregnancy pillow and a few other cushions so your stomach is elevated and you’re nice and comfortable, you’re about to question him but he’s already slipping off your shorts and panties as they puddle up on the floor.

“There,” you could hear the smile from his weary tone “you look great like this..I didn’t mean to neglect you, I’ll do better..” Xavier rubs his fingers over your entrance before pushing them inside. “You’re wet, but I can do better..” he smiles, pumping his fingers into you at an alarming speed… your legs tremble, it was almost like you were getting fucked by a vibrator. “Squeezing them so tight..” he mumbled, biting into his lips before stroking the pads of his fingers on your g-spot. “You missed this.. I can tell.. that’s my bad..”

You yelp, squeezing your hands against your pillow as you rock your hips back to meet his sloppy thrusts of his fingers. You cum in seconds, legs going weak and hazy immediately when you spurt around him.

“Xavier!!”

“Hm? It’s ok baby..I got you, let it out on me.. don’t worry about a mess, ok?”

You cry out your husband's name like an endless symphony, so distracted by your release you don’t even notice him lowering his boxers until you feel him stuff your puffy pussy with his big cock.

“Ha—“ gagging out a strangled whine you bury your face into the couch cushion, expecting him to get ready and fuck your lights out, but he only gives you a few low thrusts of his hips..

Slow, soft sex was nice, and while it felt good, you both had only had soft sex occasionally..you wanted it a bit rougher..

“Xavi..” you pout “harder, please —“

“Harder?” He raises his thick eyebrow, grabbing at your hips to slow you down when you start rutting yourself on him. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

“Just for today, please Xavi?”

—

You’ve been on your back for hours as Xavier fucked you from above, legs wrapped loosely on his strong waist as he pumped his thick seed inside you over and over again. You were spread out on him, pussy gaping and sore from how much he battered into you.

“Gonna give my angel what she wants..” he hisses, rubbing your breast in his hands once more. “Gonna make sure she’s satisfied…”

SYLUS⋆˚꩜｡ּ

Your husband said he was too big..and while he still graciously ate you out on his tongue and fingered you until you fell back with stars twirling around your head, he just wouldn’t give you his cock!! He was worried, he’d probably hurt you if he let his selfish desires take over his reason. :

Sylus didn’t miss how you sadly talked on the phone with your best friend Tara late at night when you thought he was in his office. How you felt like something was wrong with you and your body despite his reassurance that he didn’t want to hurt you because of his huge size. You were so far along in your pregnancy that he was afraid he’d squish you if you even laid too close together in bed, so he could see why you were scared because he was keeping his distance.

He ponders in his office for hours, too guilty to go back to the room and face you head on. You didn’t hear him walk by, but he can’t help himself from feeling like a piece of shit for making you feel so undesirable. You couldn’t be far from the truth, you looked so beautiful with his young inside you, it was almost impossible for him to keep his hands off you, especially when he ate you out. You smelt so warm, so familiar and sweet.. it was almost criminal how weak you made him feel.

You were laying in bed when Sylus came back to the bedroom, snuggled up on your side with your pillow and legs curled against your protruding belly that peeked so cutely under the silk blankets.

He hugs you from behind, rubbing soft loving circles into your swollen belly while inhaling your sharp sweet scent. You felt divine in his hold, so gentle and squishy, he was afraid he’d hurt you if he rubbed you too hard. It wasn’t common that he treated you like frail glass. You were a capable hunter, after all..

“I’m sorry,” he kisses your ear, humming as you sleepily moan in your sleep. He apologizes for everything, for leaving you feeling so insecure, and for neglecting you. At times like these he was glad you wore only panties and his t-shirt to bed.. made it so much easier for him to slip the wet band of your underwear to the side so he can stuff your pretty cunt with his meaty fingers.

You let out a groan of confusion in your sleep, legs buckling together, he only shushes you, rubbing your clit with his free hand to ebb the huge stretch “shh, shhh,” he lovingly whispered “I know baby, I know. I’m here…” he kissed into your cheek, removing his damp fingers slowly from your sex so he could line his thick head against your entrance. Sylus was always a stretch to take, but at times like these he’s glad he can use his evil to give you some form of comfort and protection.

“Shhhh— good girl.” He slips the tip inside, stretching you out just like you wanted.. you squirm around, eyes gritting before they slowly open.

“Sylus—?” You gasp, pussy fluttering around his tip as he rubs your clit.

“Sh, baby, let me in.” He pushed his hips further, breaking all barriers before bottoming out inside you, still pinching and rubbing your clit to help ease the burn.

“Sylus..what’s going on..?” You yawn, pretty eyes locking onto his ruby ones.

“You looked so bright..so round and beautiful, couldn’t resist any longer..” he rasps, pumping himself slowly so his cock drags against your walls. You could feel him pulsing, feel how excited he got when he heard you moan, earning you a rash twitch of him inside you.

“A-Ah! Sylus..” you grip the mattress when he lifts your leg up to pump inside you in a better angle. His balls slapping gently against your ass.

“Sylus—“ you mewl, eyes still dry from sleep as you try to reach for his hand “Sylus—“

“Let it out,” he says, rocking himself into you..oh my gods! You were about to break.

“Oh! Fuck!” You whine, uncaring if anyone else could hear you when you squirt all over his dick and lower stomach “Fuck!!”

His balls clench before he spills in you, warm milky cum coating your walls.

“You’re so beautiful like this, I should show you some more appreciation..”

ZAYNE⋆˚꩜｡ּ

Zayne hadn’t touched you at all since your stomach got heavier. He had only reduced every interaction you both had into simple cuddles and innocent acts of quality time. You’ve never felt so pent up and frustrated in your life. Little did you know your husband was also struggling…:

Zayne was expecting you to be asleep at this hour. He had just got home, and here you were, wide awake on the bed as you fingered yourself desperately to his name. You hadn’t noticed him yet.. it was far too dark for you to see out into the hallway, but wow.. what he could see from here almost felt unreal. Your breast puddles up, more thick and plump than months ago, and your round stomach looked beautiful on you… it was hard to imagine you were so swollen with his child.

“Z-Zayne..” you’d mumble under your breath, drawing his erection to hug pathetically tight against his work pants “Zayne..” your lips tremble, and your weak body twitches, he can only assume you orgasmed… Your body was glowing, puffy breasts heaving up and down when you pulled your fingers out your clenching hole.

Zayne can’t help himself.. his feet travel on their own before he’s in bed besides you, large hand grabbing your wrist so he can admire your worn out expression.

“You’re home..” you whisper.

“I am..” he says equally as gentle.

“Zayne…” your pretty eyes soften with desire, an alluring call that makes your husband's legs almost go weak. “Please fuck me..it’s been so long and I–“

“M’ss you so much..”

“Need you..”

“Please..I-“

Zayne could have been dreaming, your voice sounded so dreary and sweet, like a siren luring him in, not that he’d ever try to run away though.

“You’re pregnant, I won’t put you and the baby at risk, you’re too far along and—“ he was fighting himself, veins strained as sweat pooled down his warm pink cheeks when he saw the large frown spread on your plump puffy lips .

—

“Oh—Oh- Zayne!”

You were on your back, legs comfortably tied around your husbands thick waist when he lines himself up against your entrance. He had spent an hour between your legs, catching up on old times that you didn’t even need lube since you were dripping, but he gave it to you anyway, long slender fingers scissoring it inside you in controlled thrusts as you screamed into the pillow he had handed you moments ago. Now he was finally giving you that attention you’ve been waiting so long for. The head of his cock leaked warm precum over your sensitive clit, and he only adds more fire to the flame by rubbing his tip in circles on your tiny pearl.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your neck “m’so sorry for neglecting you.”

He finally pushes himself inside you, thick tip parting your dripping entrance so you can tightly engulf around him. He’s so slow, scarred hand rubbing over your round stomach so he doesn’t squish you while he sinks inside you. He felt so weak..so so weak like his legs would give out any minute.

He manages to bottom out, cock snug and warm inside before he stills completely.

“Tell me if I hurt you, I can’t forgive myself if I— mnggg, shit, sweetheart..”

You grind your hips impatiently against his, skin slapping loudly as you hammer yourself onto his long cock.

“Fuck, you feel so good, sh, sh, sh—here— here, let me do the work..”

“Missed this pussy…”

Zayne wraps his fingers around your plush swollen thighs, gripping them tight before he starts to thrust his shaky hips. “Sh, Sh, sh— good girl….. just like that..”

His large finger presses down on your clit, rubbing it in tiny little circles as he starts to fuck into that spot inside you that made you cry out his name.

“Mhh I’m so sorry, honey—“ he grinds up, hitting the pleasure point inside you like a toy button. “M’Sorry for neglecting you– hah–“

“You look so pretty— so damn pretty.. so full..” you cry out his name, fingers clinging into the mattresses from how overstretched you felt from his cock. “My pretty girl..”

“Mhh… you carry life so elegantly..”

“carrying my young..” he pants out, eyes dimming with need before you spurt around him, pussy squelching each time his long cock forces its way back inside you.

“That’s it,” he praises, rubbing a stray tear from your eye when you finally come down from your high. “Good girl..I’ll make up for my mistakes..ok?” He starts to thrust again, shushing you gently when you whine “Gonna take care of you all night baby..”

VALKO⋆˚꩜｡ּ

You were pissed the fuck off with your husband. First he got you pregnant with twins and now he has the balls to ignore you when you needed him the most? You needed him, needed to be fucked beyond those stupid sex toy’s you bought yourself. It couldn’t match how thick he felt in you. It’s fine, you’d just have to find a way to get him to listen…:

“Look at that,” your husband smiled deeply when you angrily wobbled into his office, you looked so cute like this, puffy lips stuck in a pout and your eyebrows furrowed so tight that it was almost hard to take you seriously. Not to mention your cute little body as you tried to look intimidating while standing over him as he sat in his chair… you were so round, so full and swollen, he was surprised you even had the energy to come all the way up here in the first place.

“I thought you were going to stay in bed,” he pulled you into his lap abruptly, holding your jaw with a teasing gleam in his eye, laughing when you try to bite at his long fingers.

“It’s too early to stay in bed—“ you huff

“Why haven’t you fucked me!?”’ You push him back against the spinning chair, “are you trying to bully me or something?”

“I know you can smell me— so why can’t you do something about how I’m feeling? I feel so desperate for you, Valko, please..”

“Can’t you feel how much I need you ..?” You lean in to kiss him, but he spins you around so your back is facing him.

“So you’re just going to ignore me? I spill my heart out to you and you just— oooohhhh!!!” You don’t know how he managed to surprise you, but the thick base of his cock slips into you with an easy quick stroke.

“Mhmg—“ your lips part when he thrusts up into you a few times, and you quickly cry in frustration when he stops.

“Be good,” he playfully whispers before pointing to the door. Maybe this was all a sick joke, but karma really has its ways of working fast… two men, two of Valkos men walk in, their suits are stained with blood, but that doesn’t stop them from still looking professionally etiquette.

“We’re here, boss.” One says, you can see the way his wolf ears twitch when he enters the room and sees you seated pretty on your husband's lap.

“And Mrs. Ao.” They bow to you, and you can’t help but nervously nod your head in response, too scared to move since you were stuffed to the brim with 7 inches of dick.

“My wife will join us, she’s been feeling a bit under the weather, so I’m just keeping an eye on her, let’s begin?”

Valko rubs a hand over your swollen belly, dick twitching proudly in your guts knowing he was the one that knocked you up.

“We don’t mind, boss” one man says

“Yeah, it’s a shame Mrs. Ao feels unwell, especially since you’re so long in your pregnancy right?”

You helplessly nod, smiling awkwardly as your juices puddle up on your husband's lap.

“You’re leaking,” he whispered, “you know us wolves have a keen sense of smell..do you think they can’t tell how desperate you are right now?” His hot breath makes you shiver in embarrassment and shame, you can’t help yourself from crumbling back against him as some sort of shield.

The meeting with the two underdogs was long, way too long that you started to feel drowsy on your husband's cock. You lean into his chest, eyes drooped and lids closed as you listen to them talk about their next team strategy.

“Yeah, she looks cute, doesn’t she?” You wearily open your eyes when your husband rubs your browline, both the men were looking at you again, both now with flush faces. It wasn’t uncommon for his kind to be shameless with their partners in the open, but it still made them a bit shy.

“I told you they could smell you, honey..” he licks your neck, “I really tried to be still as I could” he pouts and you can’t help yourself from shrieking internally in embarrassment.

“You were leakin all over me,” he smirks teasingly

“She’s carrying our babies like a champ..no wonder she’s so pent up from working so hard” he rubs your tummy once more,

“Aren’t I lucky that she’s mine?” You can almost hear the growl in his tone.

You don’t speak, you don’t dare to, but Valko forces a moan out of you with his hips, bouncing you up and down on his swollen sensitive cock. “Let me just help her out..” he calmly replied, grinding into you like nothing was wrong with the situation.

“Go on,” he rasps “you two can continue..”

The two men get up like nothing happened, going back to presenting their piece while your husband bounces you up and down his veiny pulsing cock with an uninterrupted calm expression. He may have seemed civil on the outside, but you could feel the thumps of his tail as you grinded into him like a cock drunk slut.

“You both make a really good case..” Valko hums, leaning his hand down to rub and pinch at your sensitive clit, making you cry out in shock.

“I’ll think over it after tonight, dismissed.” He releases the men, and when they finally walk through the door he pins you to the table, holding onto your belly as a cushion so you don’t bump into it while he fucks into you.

“You’re evil!” You cry out, eyes puffy and wet with tears from overstimulation. “Mhh! Evil—“

“I just like showing you off, so pretty carryin my pups anyway, couldn’t resist..”

CALEB⋆˚꩜｡ּ

It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair… why did Caleb have to tease you? You said you could do without him, said you could satisfy yourself because he’s been gone forever because of work. Now here he was, shirtless and sweaty in the backyard yard cutting the grass. You’re not sure what came over you, maybe your feet moved on their own, but you couldn’t help yourself from pouncing and taking back what was yours.:

“You’re being unfair..” you were on top of Caleb, after dragging him in the house with a false emergency you pushed him on the bed in an instant, clamping his wrists to the bed frame with a pair of handcuffs that came with your sex toy box. “Pip’s please.. h-hah.. I’m sorry..”

You were down on your knees surprisingly, you managed to get the strength to tease him..make him wait for you like he did each time he went away for work. You press your full breasts against him, caging his flush cock as you kiss the tip before tonguing him. “Ah— please!- baby get up please you’ll hurt yourself ah–“ you wiggle your heavy breast, squishing them tight against his cock before you fuck them up and down on his blaring red tip “Fuck!” He whines, streams of tears running down his face when you start to go faster.

“You abandoned me,” you dramatically whine, lips kissing over the head of his twitching cock “you know I don’t take these things lightly, Caleb.. I needed you.”

“Use me baby…. Use me, oh fuck please use me.. m’so sorry baby, please.”

You knew this was torture for him..that he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t bury his face in your soft breast while he fucked you… Yeah, you were sure this was driving him mad. “Ah–“ you wrap your mouth around his length, gagging when you feel his tip press near your uvula. You inhale his scent, that musky smell that makes you shiver, and then, you push your head down, sinking your mouth over him again and again while he cries uncontrollably underneath you.

You grip his thighs for leverage, fully abandoning your technique with your breast so you can continue slurping around his tip like a lollipop.

It doesn’t take long for Caleb to come undone, he’s bursting within seconds after you teased him for so long. His eyes are puffy, purple irises dark and dim with the need for revenge as you lick up his dripping cum with your pretty mouth.

“Baby—“ he cries when you finally stand up, you rub your slit over his messy dick, aligning his leaky tip near your entrance before you lower yourself down.

This was torture for Caleb.. you were being so evil to him..all he wanted to do was touch you, hold you, kiss you, and here you were, back facing him as you rode his cock with that drunk wail of ecstasy waving from your lips. He was growing impatient..

“Fuck!” He curses out, rutting his hips up in tune with yours, making you yelp out in surprise. Gods, you looked so good from this angle, thick plump thighs squished together, the outline of your ass and sides of your round tummy almost made him leak inside you.

“You aren’t supposed to do that—“ you try to pull away from him, but he follows you with his relentless hips, punching that spot inside of you until you crumble back onto him where you belong.

“Lemme out—“ he whimpers, “lemme out, damn it!”

You hiccup when you bounce on his lap, breast jiggling in the air when he grows rougher with his continuous thrusts.

You knew it was a bad idea, letting him out of these cuffs when he’s like this, but you were tired of playing this silly game, so you shakily reach for the bedside drawer, picking up the key for the handcuffs before clicking them off of him.

It’s almost scary how fast Caleb springs up to life, he’s over you in an instant, strong arms lifting you into the air so he can use gravity to fuck his cock near your guts. His nose was puffy and red from all his crying, and even as innocent as he wanted to appear, he immediately buries himself into your breasts, lapping and sucking at your pebbled nipples while fucking you up and down like a basketball.

“Ah- ah—“ he gasps into your mouth, pushing you carefully against the wall so he can get a better angle..it was honestly very attractive how he carried you like you weighed nothing..

“You can’t do that to me..please don’t do it again..” he gropes your body, sucking all over you with loud pops that will definitely leave you sore tomorrow morning. He rubs your breast, sighing at the sight before he spills in you.

“You don’t need to punish me— I’ll take a week off—“ he groans “make up for lost time!”

“F-fuck, please pips just lemme slip it in. Promise ill be gentle” his whimpered groan filled the dark space of your bedroom. Caleb had slipped in a couple of hours after Grandma had gone to sleep, telling you he missed you and just wanted to talk.

You whimpered gently underneath him, your pyjama shorts tugged halfway down your legs as he ruts himself against your clothed wet pussy. His forehead rests against yours, your eyes blinking up at him in confusion.

“Y-you trust me right? When has your gege ever done anything to hurt you? You dont love me anymore?” He frowns as he spits the words out, hips moving to grind into yours again before hes slipping his cock free from the confines of his boxers and rubbing it along the edge of your panties.

“N-no Caleb, i love you. B-but.. are you sure this is ok?” Your voice is so small, so gentle as your fingers cling onto his biceps. Your eyes flutter gently at the feeling of him rubbing against you again, soft sighs and gasps escaping your parted lips. He leans down, kissing your mouth in a sloppy wet mess that leaves your brain swirling with contradicting feelings.

“Call me gege, p-please. Gonna just put the tip in ok? Say yes for gege, pips. Be a good girl for me” his voice was rough against your skin, fingers slipping to pull your panties to the side. He didnt wait for a response as he began dragging the flushed tip of his cock through your folds, mixing his precum with your own arousal.

A whimpered moan breaks from your lips as he pushes the tip inside you without warning, his own breath hitching as he shakes gently against you. Your eyes squeeze shut at the pressure at your entrance, his eyes locked on how your pussy stretches around his leaky tip, thrusting it gently in and out of you.

“G-gege!” You whine out, nails biting into his shoulders. “I dunno if this is o-ok” you try, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. He shakes his head, looking up at your face but not pulling away, his tip shallowly fucking into your wet heat. “Dont worry meimei, if i say its ok its ok. When have i lied?” He smiles at you, but it feels different. Theres an edge to it that seems unhinged, and it makes your breath catch, biting at your lip.

“No, no dont do that baby dont worry” he coos, leaning down to press his lips to your own. You kiss him back, knowing its wrong but not being able to stop yourself. Its your gege anyways, if theres one person you want more than anything its him.

You pull away slowly, mouth parting open as he slowly rocks his hips into yours. His tip drags in and out of you, tight walls fluttering around him as he barely gives you anything when all you really want is all of him. He kisses at your parted lips, trailing wet hot kisses along your lips and down your neck until hes leaving dark spots just under the collar of your shirt.

“You feel so good, pretty. Gege loves you so much. Just take a little bit more for me yeah?” His voice is rough as he sinks in an inch deeper, eyes fluttering at the feeling of your warm walls around his cock. He tugs your shirt up, burying his face under the fabric to kiss and lick at your tits, mumbling incoherently against your skin.

A small moan slips from your lips and he echoes it, nails digging into the skin of your hips as he visibly shakes, trying to hold back from thrusting into you fully. His hips twitch and a small broken cry leaves his mouth, sinking in a fraction deeper into your warm welcoming cunt. He bites at your breast, teeth sinking harshly into the skin as he tries to calm his racing heart.

“Gege-” your voice breaks slightly “y-you said just the tip” he pulls out of your shirt, his face flushed and mirroring yours as he pants heavily, kissing over your lips. “I know, pretty, im sorry. Just cant help myself when you look like this. ‘Ts your fault for feeling so good, yknow” he groans out, thrusting in deeper with a choked moan. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling bubbling inside you, a foreign pleasure spreading through your body as he sinks in deeper, uncaring of his previous words.

His hips pick up speed, warm breath fanning across your skin as he moans and whimpers above you. His eyes stay fully open, intent on watching every expression on your pretty face as he fucks into you properly now, shoving himself to the brim inside you. You moan out loudly and he clamps a hand over your mouth harshly, foreheads falling against each other as he snaps his hips relentlessly into you and chases his high.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, jaw slack against his palm as your body shivers with the new sensations hes giving you. Pleasured pain blooms deep in your belly, seeds of desire having been planted years ago and only now being watered with your shared destructive lust. Deep down you know its wrong, you know you shouldnt want this with your gege but you cant help the way your cunt squeezes snug around him when he hiccups out a moan, small tears brimming at his eyes as his speed picks up until hes cumming inside you.

Warmth floods your insides as he cums, body going slack against yours as he cries out. Warm tears rolls down his face, his body still shaking from the intensity of his orgasm and the obsession he has for you. The feeling sends you over the edge, an orgasm rolling through you as you moan out against his palm and your body locks under his until your panting, vision going fuzzy.

When your brain finally settles Caleb is pressed into the side of your neck, kissing along your skin and breathing in the smell of you. “F-felt so good meimei. God i love you, need you to always be with me. Never leave me please, dunno what i would do if you got up and left” he kissed the side of your head before trailing kisses to your lips “‘m the only one good enough for you anyways, gonna kill anyone who tries to take you from me”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

His gaze shifted to where you were borderline pacing, lifting items to try and find something. You were definitely seconds away from tearing your own hair out from frustration. Instead, you just stopped, hands clenched into fists and eyes squeezed shut as you shut down entirely.

"Should have known better to put them down knowing I needed them," you scolded yourself voice shaking.

If not for his sense of smell, he might have missed the smell of salt in the air.

And so he stood and moved towards you, his tail nearly dragging behind him. His ears pressed to his hair, nearly camouflaged.

“Sweets?”

You held up a trembling hand.

“Not now, Val–”

The hug he wrapped you in from behind was sudden but necessary, your heated cheeks and racing heart easing up as you were forced to just breathe. Valko’s breaths were deep and tempoed and you had half a thought to call him out on his actions if not for the fact that they were working.

In and out.

In and out.

In, hold it, and out.

Until you were dragged into his rhythm, racing thoughts slowing with every exhale. His arms crossed over your chest, weighted yet gentle.

Your hand dropped to your side, mind attempting to catch up to the fact that he was holding you and you were allowed to fall back into him if needed.

“Don’t talk about my mate like that,” he murmured into your hair, tightening his grip for a second before loosening it. “She’s strong. Smart. Certainly not stupid or any other vitriolic word your mind conjures up from Astra knows where.”

The words force you back to reality harder than expected.

The energy drained as your adrenaline from fight or flight practically faded and sent you into a free fall.

“I didn’t…” you started, unsure why you had said the words yourself. “I…” you tried again, the lump in your throat effectively sealing any other attempt at explanation inside of you. The words played on loop instead, a stuttered exhale all you can manage before turning to face Valko and burying your face into his neck.

“I gotcha,” Valko assured confidently, rubbing a hand along your back while the other rested on your neck.

Firm but not possessive.

Just grounding.

Enough to send you into premature sleep, to which he moved you both to the bedroom and made sure not an inch of light or sound would disturb your much needed rest.

And when you woke up to him with his head on your chest in the early hours of the morning? You managed a smile, yesterday’s emotions nothing but a gentle ache soothed by the rush of affection the sleeping man managed to pull out of you.

--

*Caleb*

The crashing of the plate against the ground had been the last straw for you.

“I’m so stupid,” you hissed as you cradled your burnt hand, tears welling in your eyes before you could process why they were there in the first place. You leaned down to grab the pieces and hide the evidence of your idiocy, but Caleb had heard the commotion and been up and on his way toward you the moment he heard the crash. He made his presence known by lifting you up via his evol with practiced ease, his voice teasing.

“I know I didn’t just hear my girlfriend call herself stupid,” he said with a cross of his arms. “Might have to have a talk with her to stop bullying my precious pipsqueak.”

When you met his gaze, there was no humor in his eyes. The disconnect of his tone when gazing narrowed eyes is enough to have you falling into pure silence.

Then came the trembling of your shoulders.

And under his knowing look, each part of your resolve shattered. Every ounce of effort put toward maintaining some level of composure lifted into the air like smoke.

Your hand was hurting.

You were embarrassed.

You felt guilty that the dinner you’d been so excited to share with him was now ruined.

Should have used two plates.

Why did you put all of it onto one?

Stupid, stupid, stupi—

“Pips?”

His voice was softer than usual. You hung your head, attempting to shield yourself from him only to feel your body tugged in his direction. You came face to face with him again, but his expression had shifted entirely.

“I–” you tried, but it came out weak and choked.

A humorless chuckle that sounded more like a sigh left him as you dropped suddenly. You didn’t close your eyes or react, knowing very well the floor was not an option.

Not when strong arms were out and ready for you as always. Sometimes you wondered where you would be without him…how your life would have gone if he’d never returned.

Before you could spiral down another path, Caleb’s voice coaxed you back to him.

“I know very well that you were never scolded for makin’ a mess by me or gran,” he said quietly. He had always managed to find the perfect balance between comfort and curiosity with you. “So…where’d that come from? Who made my pips think she was anything other than amazing?”

Your mind wondered the same, too scrambled to come up with an answer. The voice certainly hadn’t been entirely your own, but the knowledge was beyond your reach as you came down piece by piece.

A hum of understanding left him despite your lack of response as he carried you out of the kitchen and used his evol to rid of the mess.

Evidence gone...like it never existed.

Because whether a broken plate or a threat to your carefully curated stability, it was all the same to him.

Disposable.

Undeserving of the place in your thoughts it attempted to take.

“I’m here,” he promised, your heavy eyes threatening to close in his embrace.

“‘M sorry,” you murmured, but the man simply pressed a kiss to your temple, promising to be at your side when you woke.

--

*Zayne*

You let out a sharp breath as you squeezed your hand shut.

It did nothing to help the sting of your palm, bloody knife on the ground and half cut cake on the counter. You felt the tears form before you could stop them, slipping down your cheeks.

“I’m so stupid,” you whispered softly. You backed up until you hit the counter beside the sink, sliding down it and ignoring the dull ache of the handle hitting your back. You knew you should treat the wound. It was an easier fix than any wound you’d gotten out on the field, but you couldn’t muster up the energy to actually do it. You felt frozen, somehow, feeling the blood slip down your wrist toward your elbow, even more so when you opened your hand to give it a break from the strain.

“I’m sorry?”

You flinched at the voice, snapping your head up to see Zayne frowning from the kitchen doorway. You parted your lips to speak, but before you could he was walking toward you with his eyes locked on your poorly hidden hands.

“You…” he started, eyes flickering in surprise when he looked over to see the knife on the floor and the red dots leading to where you sat. “You are hurt?”

“no,” you said automatically, shaking your head as you attempted to think of anything to get out of the situation. It was awful enough you ruined his surprise treat, he didn’t need to know you were one of the klutziest Hunters alive.

“You are,” he said with a finality that had you wanting the floor to swallow you whole. Rather than wait, Zayne leaned down slowly, reaching out to you even slower. Like you were some wounded animal ready to bolt.

“Love–”

“I don’t like to see you hurt,” he offered, barely above a whisper. His eyes lifted to your own for a brief moment before shifting back down to your wound. “Physically or otherwise.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, slowly easing the pressure on your hand and holding it out with a wince. It looked much worse than before, new and dried blood staining it almost entirely red.

Zayne didn’t panic. If anything, the sight made his gaze soften further.

“You’ll need some stitches,” he said, maintaining the same quiet tone as he observed. “May I?”

“It’ll hurt.”

He smiled slightly and you can’t help but weaken even more. “More than this does?”

He made a valid point.

It was why you were in the bathroom with him minutes later, avoiding your hand like the plague while he worked. He had offered to take you to the hospital to numb the area first, but the idea felt more mortifying. You didn’t need to broadcast your incompetence to his place of employment.

“...’m sorry.”

A huff from the doctor you managed to become engaged to.

“You have no reason to apologize.”

“But I ruined the—”

“You matter the most,” he said without hesitation. “No dessert in the world matters more than my wife.”

Your heart fluttered as the knot in your chest loosened.

“You called me your wife,” you said, tone airy.

He raised a brow, wrapping your hand securely before lifting it to his lips to press a kiss to the padding.

You’d marched straight over, hauled his sick ass off the couch with far more determination than either of your feverish bodies probably should’ve possessed, and informed him that if he intended to survive the week, he’d be sleeping in an actual bed, in yours, with you, like he usually would when he’d stay in Linkon. Caleb, of course, had immediately argued that he didn’t want to kick you out of your own room. You, equally stubborn and feeling far too miserable to entertain his self-sacrificing nonsense, had threatened him with death if he didn’t stop being an idiot and listen.

What followed was several exhausting minutes of arguing in circles, both of you wrapped in blankets, shivering despite the warmth of the apartment while your fevers drained whatever little energy you had left. Every point he raised was met with another from you. Every excuse he offered was shot down almost as quickly as he could think of it, until the entire conversation blurred into one long, fever-induced cycle of stubbornness neither of you was truly equipped to win.

Eventually, whether because he realized you weren’t backing down or because he simply didn’t have the strength to keep arguing anymore, Caleb let out a long, tired sigh. His shoulders sagged in quiet defeat, and without another complaint, he finally gave in, obediently following you down the short hallway toward your bedroom.

You’d already turned on the heating pad beneath the blankets near the foot of the bed, knowing your perpetually cold feet would be miserable otherwise, and had pulled on a pair of fuzzy socks before climbing underneath the comforter beside him. Both of you were dressed in your pajamas, looking every bit as pitiful as you felt, though Caleb’s choice of sleepwear did him absolutely no favors.

Normally, he was practically a human furnace. It was one of the many things you relentlessly teased him about, considering he could somehow be warm even in the middle of winter. Apparently, the flu had robbed him of that particular talent. Dressed in nothing more than a baggy T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, he curled into his side of the bed with the blankets pulled up to his neck, trying, and failing, to hide the occasional shiver that ran through him. His nose was flushed from blowing it all day, his hair stuck out in soft, sleep-rumpled tufts, and the exhaustion settling over his features made him look far younger than the composed, dependable colonel everyone else knew.

After a moment, he cautiously slipped one hand out from beneath the warmth of the blankets, visibly regretting it the instant the cool air hit his skin. He fumbled around the nightstand until his fingers found the television remote, then pressed the power button. The screen flickered to life, filling the dim bedroom with soft light and the familiar murmur of whatever happened to be playing, giving the two of you something mindless to watch while you waited for the worst of the flu to pass.

“it’s so bright,” you whined, tugging the comforter over your head until the blanket cocooned you from the harsh glow spilling across the room. Even with your eyes squeezed shut, the light seemed to press insistently against your eyelids, making your already pounding head throb even harder, “Caleb, can you turn the lights off if you’re gonna have the TV on?”

“Sure.”

He was already pushing himself upright before you had even finished asking. Every movement looked sluggish, weighed down by the same fever that had settled into your own bones. His voice was thick with congestion, each word muffled by the stuffiness clogging his sinuses, while the lingering flush across his cheeks and the tiredness clouding his eyes made it painfully obvious how miserable he felt. Still, he shuffled across the room without complaint, shoulders slightly hunched as another chill ran through him, making him instinctively hug his arms closer to himself while he made his way toward the light switch.

“I wasn’t really planning to watch anything,” he said, “just figured we could use some background noise so ya won’t have to hear me.”

“Hear you?” You repeated, lowering the blanket just enough to peek out from underneath it.

You watched him flip off the lights, the bedroom immediately falling into a softer darkness illuminated only by the muted glow of the television. The flickering screen painted gentle washes of color across the walls as Caleb turned around, his bare legs making quick work of the short distance back to the bed. Even bundled in nothing more than his oversized T-shirt and basketball shorts, he still looked like he couldn’t get warm, another visible shiver passing through him before he reached the mattress.

“Yeah,” he hurried, climbing back beneath the blankets so quickly that the mattress dipped beneath his weight and bounced lightly beside you. He wasted no time scooting back into his corner, pulling the comforter up around himself until only his shoulders and messy brown hair remained visible, “I keep makin’ this weird noise right when I’m about to fall asleep cause of all the stuffiness.”

Your lips curled into an amused smile. Only then did you notice how much space he’d deliberately left between the two of you, practically plastering himself against the edge of the bed as though he were still trying to avoid getting any closer than necessary. Even now, after you’d practically threatened bodily harm to convince him to sleep somewhere comfortable, he was somehow still trying to make himself as small and unobtrusive as possible.

“What noise?”

“Like this,” he obediently demonstrated, letting his head sink into the pillow as he exaggeratedly pretended to drift off to sleep. A second later, he made a flat, deep, almost robotic sound, “uhh!”

The ridiculous noise caught you completely off guard. A laugh escaped before you could stop it, warm and genuine despite how awful you felt, “what the fuck? I haven’t heard you do that.”

“Well yeah, cause I’ve been trying to stay the hell away from you,” he couldn’t help but laugh back, the corners of his mouth lifting into the first real smile you’d seen from him all day. With an embarrassed little huff, he rolled back onto his side until his back faced you again, retreating into the blankets as though hiding from his own admission. Even sick, exhausted, and running a fever, he was still more worried about inconveniencing you than himself.

Ignoring the gap he’d so carefully put between the two of you, you scooted closer anyway. Then closer still. Until your chest rested lightly against his back and you could settle your cheek between his broad, muscular shoulder blades. Even through the thin cotton of his T-shirt, you could feel the warmth radiating from him. Normally, Caleb always ran hot enough to make you complain whenever he stole the blankets, but now the fever had turned that familiar warmth into something almost comforting, a steady heat that seeped into your chilled skin the moment you touched him. The contact made him stiffen ever so slightly beneath you.

“Why?“ You asked, “it’s not like either of us are really contagious to each other…”

He was quiet for a moment before answering.

“…Well, I don’t wanna wake you up if you fall asleep and you hear me make noises next to you,” he murmured, his voice softened by exhaustion and hopelessly stuffed with congestion, “you need rest. I was honestly fine on the couch. Don’t blame me if ya can’t fall asleep, now…”

A small laugh escaped you, weak and scratchy from your sore throat. You slipped an arm around his waist from behind, holding him loosely as you nestled closer against the broad span of his back, shamelessly stealing whatever warmth you could.

“I don’t think I can fall asleep, even if I tried,” you admitted with another tired chuckle, “I’m too sick…You can sleep though. Are you sleepy?”

“Kinda? But I don’t think I could fully fall asleep either. Everything‘s all achy,” the last few words dissolved into a miserable groan, followed by a congested snort that made him sound every bit as pathetic as he felt.

You frowned sympathetically, “do you want another Sudafed?”

“Maybe. I’ll get you one right now.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he started to push himself upright, already trying to wriggle out of your embrace despite looking like standing up would require the effort of climbing a mountain.

You immediately tightened your hold just enough to stop him, “no, you stay put. I got it.”

He barely made it halfway upright before you nudged him firmly back toward the mattress.

“No, Pips, quit getting up,” he protested, trying to sit back up again despite the obvious fatigue dragging at every movement,“you needa just stay put and get some rest until your temperature goes down.”

“Well, we left the thermometer in the kitchen,” you reminded him, “I have to get that, too.”

That only seemed to strengthen his resolve. With a determined little grunt, Caleb sat upright again, preparing to swing his legs over the side of the bed. You were quicker. Holding up a single finger, you fixed him with the sternest look your fever-addled brain could manage.

“Stay,” you warned, widening your eyes for emphasis, “don’t make me have to fight you! If you want me to rest so bad, then stop being a stubborn idiot and let me take care of you. You’re doing too much.”

For a long moment, he simply stared back at you. Then his shoulders sagged. A helpless, thoroughly miserable groan escaped him as he surrendered, letting himself flop backward onto the mattress with all the dramatic defeat of a man who’d just lost the most important battle of his life. He huffed out a long breath through his nose before muttering, “you never listen…”

“If I listened, you’d be twisting your spine in all kinds of uncomfortable positions on my shitty couch,” you pointed out.

Crossing your arms against the lingering chill that still clung to your body the moment you stepped away from Caleb’s warmth, you climbed out of bed and shuffled toward the bedroom door, already bracing yourself for the cold walk to the kitchen.

By the time you made it to the kitchen, you were questioning whether the short walk had always been that long. Your head felt heavy with congestion, your fever leaving you lightheaded enough that you had to steady yourself against the countertop for a moment before opening the medicine cabinet. You fished out the box of Sudafed with sluggish fingers, popped one of the tablets from its blister pack, and swallowed it down with a glass of water. The cool drink did little to soothe the raw ache in your throat, but it was enough to make you feel marginally more human.

Remembering Caleb, you pressed out another pill before moving to the refrigerator. A pitcher of pink lemonade sat on the top shelf, and the thought of something cold sounded infinitely more appealing than another cup of tea. You filled a second glass nearly to the brim, the pale pink liquid clinking softly against the ice cubes before gathering everything in your hands and carefully making the slow trek back toward your bedroom, completely forgetting the thermometer and leaving it for later.

The room was quiet when you returned, save for the muffled murmur of the television still playing in the background. You set your own water down on your nightstand before carrying the lemonade and Sudafed over to Caleb’s side of the bed. He’d apparently managed to drift off in the minute or two you’d been gone. Curled beneath the blankets, he looked completely boneless, his breathing slow and even as exhaustion claimed him almost instantly. You reached out and gently nudged his shoulder.

“Caleb,” you murmured softly, motioning for him to sit up.

The moment he stirred, a strange, congested sound escaped him, “uhh!”

His violet eyes flew open, unfocused at first as they locked onto the ceiling. A second later they found you standing beside the bed, and almost immediately, he looked away with unmistakable embarrassment.

“See, it’s that stupid sound…” He complained.

A quiet giggle slipped past your lips despite yourself. You slipped an arm behind his shoulders to help him sit upright before placing the pill into his hand, “I think you sound cute.”

The tips of his ears immediately turned a shade pinker than they already were from the fever. He answered with the tiniest groan of embarrassment, his expression twisting into reluctant resignation. Even now, he still seemed uncomfortable letting you witness him like this; sniffling, exhausted, making involuntary noises every time he started to drift off, as though getting sick around you was somehow something to be embarrassed about.

It wasn’t as if he’d had much choice. He accepted the glass from you, tossing back the Sudafed before washing it down with a long drink of the pink lemonade. The change in his expression was immediate. His brows lifted ever so slightly, pleasant surprise flickering across his tired features as he looked down into the glass, then back up at you.

“Ohhh…” A warm smile spread across his face, softer than any you’d seen from him all day, as he watched you climb back into bed on your side, “pink lemonade, huh? Thanks, Pips…You’re the best. Want some?”

You smiled back, scooting closer once you’d settled beneath the blankets again. Instead of answering, you simply reached over and took the glass from his hands. The first sip was bliss. The lemonade was cold enough to soothe the heat lingering in your mouth, its tartness tempered by just enough sweetness to take the edge off your sore throat as it slid down. You hadn’t realized how thirsty you’d been until then, and for a brief moment, the cool drink was enough to distract you from the pounding in your head and the ache in your body.

With an approving nod, you handed the glass back. Caleb finished setting it on the nightstand before easing himself down onto the pillow once more, and a second later you followed, the mattress dipping gently beneath the combined weight of the two of you as you settled back into bed together while the television continued to murmur quietly in the background.

“Don’t crawl away,” you whined, catching him before he could slip from your reach. You rested your cheek against the steady warmth of his chest, letting out a quiet sigh as you threw one leg over his thigh to trap him beneath you. Your arm slid around his tummy, holding him close while you burrowed into him in search of the warmth he always seemed to carry, “I’m freezing! Stop running from me, Caleb…You’re so annoying.”

A soft laugh escaped him, low enough that you felt it rumble beneath your ear before you heard it. After only a moment of resistance, he finally relented, his long arm settling carefully across your backside as the stiffness that always lingered in his body gradually eased, “fine, fine, I’ll stay put. I just don’t want you getting any sicker…”

You knew that was only half the truth. Caleb had always been the type to disappear whenever he was the one feeling ill, brushing off your concern and avoiding you until he recovered, unwilling to let you witness even the smallest sign of weakness. But this was different. This wasn’t just about protecting you from catching whatever he had. Caleb had another habit; one you’d quietly taken notice of over the years.

Whenever you became too physically close, something inside him seemed to lock up. A simple nap together was easy enough until you instinctively curled against him, and then he’d go rigid beneath your touch, every muscle drawn tight as if he were afraid to move. Even the quick kisses you pressed to his cheek, something the two of you had shared so naturally for years, still managed to paint his face a deep shade of red every single time. Whenever you rested your head in his lap and asked him to play with your hair, his fingers would always hesitate first, trembling ever so slightly before they finally threaded through the strands. He never pushed you away. He never asked you to stop. He simply endured every affectionate gesture with an almost painful restraint.

It made sense on paper…Didn’t it? Caleb had grown up beside you. Grandma Josephine had raised the two of you under the same roof, giving you the same home, the same family, and the same childhood memories. Even after everything had changed, after Josephine’s passing, after the explosion, after the Fleet, after your adoption papers and the legal ties to him were absolved so you were no longer step siblings in any legal sense, some things had never truly changed. Caleb still carried himself around you with careful hesitation, drawing invisible boundaries that no longer needed to exist. Yet no matter how often you tried to convince yourself that was all it was, the question refused to leave your mind. Was he still treating you like the little stepsister he’d spent his whole life protecting…Or was it because, somewhere beneath all that restraint, he saw you the same way you had always seen him, even when you were children?

You wondered sometimes if there was something fundamentally wrong with you. Maybe everyone else would call it obsession. Delusion. Maybe they would say you were sick for keeping such meticulous track of every tiny thing Caleb did, cataloging each fleeting expression and every unconscious gesture like precious evidence locked away inside your own mind. You couldn’t help it. Your brain did it before you even realized it was happening. Every blush that dusted his cheeks after you kissed them. Every time his hand instinctively reached for yours before he thought better of it. Every lingering glance that lasted a heartbeat too long. Every tiny tremor that ran through his fingers whenever you leaned into his space. You remembered all of it. You replayed it over and over until the moments felt engraved into you, convincing yourself that no one reacted like that unless they felt something. Unless they loved you too. You needed to believe that. Because if those moments didn’t mean anything…Then what did that make you?

Eventually, the doubt became unbearable, and you started testing reality against everyone else’s. You’d slip seemingly innocent questions into conversations with friends, pretending they were meaningless hypotheticals while your stomach twisted itself into knots waiting for their answers. Was it weird to cuddle with your stepbrother? To fall asleep in the same bed because you both slept better that way? To drag him around the grocery store by the hand simply because you liked knowing exactly where he was? To disappear beneath the same blanket during scary movies until you were practically wrapped around him? To miss him so much after a single day apart that your chest physically ached?

Every answer came back the same. No. That wasn’t normal. The awkward looks, the uncomfortable laughter, the way conversations suddenly shifted away from the topic—they all told you more than words ever could. Little by little, their reactions burrowed beneath your skin, feeding the ugly voice already living inside your head. Maybe you were exactly what they’d think you were if they ever knew the truth. Maybe “stepbrother” was enough to make every feeling you’d ever had disgusting in the eyes of everyone else. Maybe they’d call you obsessive. Possessive. Deranged. Maybe they would say the way your entire world revolved around Caleb wasn’t love at all, but something warped. Something taboo. Something that should have been buried instead of cherished.

The thought made something ugly curl inside your chest. You hated them for it. You hated that strangers who had never seen the way Caleb looked at you somehow believed they had the right to decide what your relationship was supposed to be. They hadn’t watched him give you the larger half of every meal without thinking. They hadn’t seen the way his eyes found you first in every crowded room or how he instinctively reached for you whenever you were within arm’s length. They hadn’t noticed the blushes he tried to hide, the hesitation in his breathing whenever you touched him, the way he endured your closeness while looking as though every ounce of restraint he possessed was hanging by a thread. They didn’t know him. They didn’t know you. They certainly didn’t know what existed between the two of you. So why should their opinions matter?

Still…The question lingered anyway, scratching relentlessly at the back of your mind until it hurt. What if they were right? What if every stolen glance and trembling touch meant nothing? What if you’d built an entire fantasy out of ordinary affection because you wanted him so desperately that your own mind had begun lying to you? The thought made your stomach churn. You couldn’t bear it. You refused to bear it.

“Pips?”

His voice sliced cleanly through the spiral before it could drag you any deeper. You blinked hard, your thoughts scattering as you lifted your head to find Caleb already studying you, concern softening the sharp edges of his expression. His violet eyes searched yours with quiet intensity before he raised the back of his left hand to your forehead, his cooler skin a stark contrast against the fever radiating from your own.

“You okay?” He asked quietly, “you’re really warm…And you’re squeezin’ the life out of me.”

Only then did you realize how tightly you were holding him. Your leg had locked around his thigh with enough force to keep him pinned exactly where he was, while your fist had twisted itself into the hem of his shirt beneath the blanket, the fabric wound tightly around your fingers until your knuckles had gone tight. You hadn’t even noticed yourself doing it. Somewhere in the middle of your spiraling thoughts, your body had decided that if your mind couldn’t guarantee Caleb would never leave you, your hands would simply refuse to let him.

“Sorry…” You loosened your grip only enough that he could breathe before instinct pulled you right back against him, greedily reclaiming every inch of warmth his body offered. Your cheek settled over his heart again, your fingers smoothing absentmindedly over his side as you guided his arm back around your waist where it belonged. Wrapped in him, surrounded by him, you could almost pretend the rest of the world had disappeared, “I just…I’m cold. Just wanna crawl inside of you and wear you like a blanket right now.”

It wasn’t even entirely a joke. The thought had crossed your mind before. More than once. If you could unzip him and crawl beneath his skin, tuck yourself safely inside his ribs where no one else could ever reach you, you thought you probably would. You were almost certain you’d finally stop worrying then. No more wondering where he was. No more waiting for him to come home. No more fear that something, or someone, would take him away from you again. You could stay with him forever, nestled beneath his heartbeat where you belonged.

Caleb laughed beneath your ear, the sound warm despite the fever weakening it, vibrating through his chest until you could feel it as clearly as you heard it. His fingertips found your hair with practiced affection, combing slowly through the strands before his free arm joined the other around your body, surrounding you completely. The embrace made something inside you bloom so violently it almost hurt. Half of you basked in the simple joy of being held exactly the way you’d always wanted. The other half ached with an endless, ravenous longing, mourning everything you still weren’t allowed to have.

“What, ya want me to be your skin suit?” He teased, his voice dripping with easy affection.

“Yes, actually,” you tipped your head back without hesitation, your eyes locking onto his as your arms instinctively tightened around him again. Your breath fanned softly beneath his chin, leaving barely any space between your faces, “I do, Caleb. Is there something wrong with that?”

For the briefest moment, you watched it happen. His throat bobbed. His breathing caught. His entire body stiffened just enough for you to notice. There it was again. Another one. Another tiny reaction to quietly tuck away with all the others. Another secret little piece of evidence your mind greedily collected before anyone else could explain it away. Then, just as quickly, he forced himself to relax.

“Nah…” He chuckled, a faint flush already beginning to creep toward the tips of his ears, “but I might be too big for ya. You might have to lop off my legs at the shins.”

A bright giggle escaped you before you buried your face into the comforting heat of his neck, laughing against his skin while his own quiet snickers vibrated beneath your cheek. You lingered there for another moment, breathing him in until the familiar scent of detergent, soap, and Caleb settled the frantic beating of your heart. Then curiosity, and mischief, got the better of you. You pushed yourself farther up his body until you were practically draped over him, cupping his face between both hands before immediately beginning to squish his cheeks together. His lips stretched into the most ridiculous shape imaginable, completely ruining the composed, handsome face that always made your heart stutter. You couldn’t stop laughing.

“What about your giant head?” You whispered between amused giggles, giving his cheeks another playful squeeze before one hand wandered into the stick straight strands of his bangs. You pinched a lock of brown hair between your fingers and tugged it upward until it stuck straight into the air, making him look even more ridiculous “what should I do with it?”

“Make a hood out of it, you silly goober,” he laughed, finally catching both your wrists before you could completely destroy whatever was left of his hair. His fingers wrapped gently around them, more restraining than scolding as he smiled at you, “you can turn me into one of those cute Kigurumi onesies.”

You burst into delighted laughter, the sound bright enough to fill the room as you poked both of your index fingers into his dimpled, grinning cheeks, delighting in the way they squished beneath your fingertips, “you’d make the cutest onesie…I’d wear you to bed every night!”

He looked up at you with an almost offended little pout, his brows knitting together just enough to make you smile wider, “just, to bed?”

You blinked, amused by the genuine disappointment in his voice, “why, you’d want me to wear you during the day, too?”

“I’d want you to wear your Caleb onesie twenty-four seven,” he replied without missing a beat, his smile softening into something quieter, something that settled heavily between the two of you. His hands remained comfortably around your wrists, his thumbs absently stroking over your skin as though they belonged there, “I’d never want you to take me off of ya.”

Your teasing smile faltered for the briefest moment. He’d said it like a joke. But Caleb had always hidden his truest feelings inside jokes. You knew that better than anyone. Your heart gave a painful squeeze because, if he truly meant even half of that, then it mirrored a desire you had buried for years. There wasn’t a part of you that didn’t crave his constant presence. You wanted to wake up with him every morning, fall asleep against him every night, know where he was every second in between. The months you’d spent believing he had died had carved something ugly into your heart, something possessive and desperate that never seemed to heal. Ever since he’d come back, every goodbye made a quiet panic bloom beneath your ribs, irrationally terrified that the next time he walked away, he wouldn’t return. If there was a way to keep Caleb with you forever, to make sure no war, no Fleet assignment, no cruel twist of fate could ever steal him away again, you weren’t entirely convinced you wouldn’t take it.

“What about when I shower?” You asked curiously.

He blinked at you, visibly caught off guard before an unmistakably thoughtful expression settled across his face. Rather than dismissing the question, he actually considered it, his violet eyes drifting for a moment as though he were searching for the most practical solution to an otherwise ridiculous problem. You couldn’t help smiling. That was Caleb. No matter how absurd the conversation became, he always met you there without hesitation.

Finally, he reached up and gently guided both of your hands over his face, covering his eyes with your palms. His larger fingers curled securely around yours, holding them in place with an easy familiarity.

“I’ll close my eyes like the perfect gentleman,” he promised with a laugh that rumbled softly beneath your hands, “promise I won’t peek.”

Mischief bubbled up inside you as you slowly spread your ring and middle finger apart, creating a narrow gap until one of his eyes peeked through. It immediately found yours, as though it had been searching for you the entire time.

“Well…” Your voice softened without meaning to, “if you were my skin suit…I wouldn’t be mad if you did…”

The words slipped out before you had the chance to catch them. The moment you realized what you’d admitted, heat flooded your face, and you instinctively looked away, suddenly fascinated by a wrinkle in the blanket instead of meeting his eyes. For a second, Caleb said nothing. You felt his gaze instead. Steady. Unwavering. Almost unbearably warm. When you finally risked another glance, his face had turned just as red as yours, the blush stretching across his cheeks before disappearing beneath the tips of his ears. He laughed, but it sounded almost breathless this time, as though your words had lodged somewhere deep inside him.

“You’re such a silly goober,” he murmured, smiling with a tenderness that made your chest ache.

One hand slipped free to affectionately ruffle your hair, but instead of stopping after a few playful passes, his fingers lingered there, combing gently through the messy strands. His touch slowed until it became absentminded, almost possessive, as though he simply liked feeling you beneath his hand.

“Besides…” He added with a crooked grin that was just a little too knowing, “if you’re wearin’ me all the time, nobody else gets to borrow me.”

The joke should have sounded ridiculous. Instead, it settled into the same strange corner of your heart where all the others did. Because you realized, with a quiet sort of horror and delight, that you didn’t want anyone else borrowing him either. Not even for a little while.

Before you could hide behind your embarrassment any longer, Caleb gently tugged you back down against him, answering your fluster with action instead of teasing. His arms slipped around you in one smooth motion, strong and certain as they gathered you completely against his chest until your face was buried against the feverish warmth of his neck. He hugged you with enough strength that you felt safely trapped, your back pressed firmly beneath one arm while the other settled securely around your waist, drawing you impossibly closer. A tiny, contented sound escaped him; soft enough that anyone else might have missed it, but you felt it vibrate against your cheek. It was a sound of pure happiness, unguarded and instinctive, and it made your heart swell so painfully you thought it might burst.

You wasted no time returning it. Your own arms tightened around him with equal desperation, your fingers spreading across the broad plane of his back before kneading gently between his shoulder blades. Even through the fabric of his shirt, you could feel the hard lines of muscle beneath your palms, each slow pass reminding you just how solid he was, how real he was, how he was here. Alive. Breathing. Holding you. You never took that for granted anymore. Not after losing him once.

Caleb rocked you slowly from side to side, the movement absentminded and soothing, as though his body had fallen into a rhythm it already knew by heart. It felt so natural that a dangerous thought slipped quietly into your mind. You fit here. You always had. Against his chest. Wrapped inside his arms. Hidden away where the rest of the world couldn’t touch either of you. You wished time would stop. You wished duty would forget his name. You wished the Fleet would lose every record they had on Colonel Caleb, leaving only the boy who belonged here with you. The thought was selfish. Horribly selfish. You knew that. You didn’t care. If loving him meant becoming the sort of person who wanted to keep him tucked safely away from the rest of the world forever, then perhaps you had already crossed that line years ago.

Eventually, almost reluctantly, his embrace loosened. Not because he seemed to want to let go. He knew he had to. His hands lingered on your back long after the hug should have ended, rubbing slow circles between your shoulder blades before patting you gently, as though trying to memorize the feeling of you beneath his palms. There was something equally unwilling in the way his fingers dragged ever so slightly before finally settling again, like some quieter part of him resented every inch of distance that returned between you.

When you finally lifted your face, you found him already looking at you. He was smiling. Not the easy, teasing grin he wore whenever he wanted to make you laugh. This one was softer. Quieter. Almost wistful. There was regret hidden inside it. You’d seen that expression more times than you could count. It always appeared whenever Caleb drifted somewhere far away inside his own thoughts, his violet eyes growing distant while words gathered behind them that never quite found their way into the open. It was the same look he wore whenever he insisted everything was fine despite the unmistakable weight settling across his shoulders. As though he carried entire conversations inside himself that he refused to let anyone else hear. Especially you.

You wondered, not for the first time, if the secret lodged inside his heart resembled the one poisoning yours. If he spent sleepless nights swallowing the same impossible confession. If every smile he buried, every blush he disguised, every touch he hesitated over existed for the same reason your own heart had become such a hopeless mess. That he loved you so completely it had become unbearable to keep pretending he didn’t.

“…Caleb?” Your voice broke the comfortable silence before it could stretch any farther.

Both of your hands rose to cradle his warm face, your thumbs brushing lightly along his fever-flushed cheeks while, almost automatically, his own fingers wandered back into your hair. They combed through it with slow familiarity, lingering near the nape of your neck as though he simply couldn’t help himself.

“Do I…” You hesitated, suddenly unsure whether you wanted to hear the answer after all, “…Ever make you uncomfortable?”

“Hm?” His brows lifted with genuine confusion, his expression softening almost immediately, “nah, I don’t think so…Why?”

Your stomach twisted. You searched his face for even the smallest hint that he already understood what you were trying to ask.

“…Because whenever I wanna get closer…” Your voice came out quieter this time, your thumbs unconsciously stroking his cheeks as though reassuring yourself he was still there, “…You get tense…And freeze up.”

The words left your mouth before you could swallow them back, and almost instantly you wished you could. Not because you regretted asking, but because the answer suddenly felt terrifying. If he’d only ever stiffened because he truly saw you as family, you weren’t sure your heart would survive hearing him say it out loud. Yet another part of you, the same obsessive, hopeful part that counted every blush and every trembling breath, clung stubbornly to the possibility that his hesitation had never been rejection at all. That perhaps Caleb froze for the same reason you did whenever you caught yourself imagining a future where neither of you had to pretend anymore.

He blinked at you, the confusion on his face lingering for only a heartbeat before realization slowly settled over his features. His eyes widened just slightly, followed by a quiet, almost breathless, “ohhh…”

He looked away with an embarrassed smile, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment before his gaze found you again.

“Well, I just don’t wanna make you uncomfortable, that’s why,” he explained, “I’m a guy…You’re a girl…And I get scared that if I let you get too close, it’ll be too much for your comfort. That I’ll be pushing past your boundaries.”

His explanation should have eased the ache in your chest, but instead it only deepened it. Even now, after everything the two of you had survived together, Caleb’s first instinct was still to protect you. He always worried about everyone else before himself, and somehow he’d even convinced himself that the greatest thing you needed protecting from might be him.

A small pout tugged at your lips as you looked at him, “but I can think for myself…I’m aware of my boundaries. Sometimes it feels like you forget I have autonomy, too…You don’t have to look after me so closely, Caleb. I’m an adult, now…I can decide things for myself.”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he sat quietly with your words, his gaze drifting downward until it settled on your lips with an intensity that made your pulse stumble. He looked almost unaware he was doing it, as though he’d become lost somewhere inside thoughts he had no intention of sharing. You watched the subtle tightening of his jaw before his hand rose almost unconsciously to cover his own mouth. The gesture wasn’t awkward or embarrassed. It looked instinctive, like a reflex he’d repeated so many times he no longer realized he was doing it. It felt less as though he were shielding himself and more as though he were shielding you from whatever lived inside his own head. The sight made something click painfully into place inside yours. Maybe he had never been afraid of making you uncomfortable. Maybe he’d been terrified of what would happen if he stopped holding himself back.

“You don’t—…” Your voice softened as your hand found his, your fingers carefully wrapping around his pinkie before slowly guiding his hand away from his face. He could have resisted. He could have pulled away. Instead, he let you move him, his fingers relaxing beneath yours until nothing remained between your faces, “…Have to protect me from you. I—…I don’t want there to be anything standing between us…”

His breath caught so quietly you almost questioned whether you’d imagined it, but then you felt his heartbeat quicken beneath you as you lay against his chest. Your fingertips lingered against the back of his hand before drifting upward to trace the line of his chin and the strong curve of his jaw. His skin was warm beneath your touch, fever heating him almost as much as the blush steadily blooming across his cheeks. You could feel the restraint humming through every inch of him. He wasn’t retreating from your touch, nor was he leaning into it. Instead, he remained perfectly still, as though every instinct urging him closer was being held in place by years of relentless self-discipline. It struck you then that his hesitation had never felt like rejection. It felt like someone clinging desperately to the last thread of control, terrified that if he indulged himself even once, he’d never be able to stop.

“…Would it really be that terrible if we got just a little closer?” You whispered, your voice carrying more vulnerability than you’d intended as your thumb gently stroked the warmth of his jaw. Caleb continued looking up at you with an expression so painfully conflicted it made your chest ache. There was longing in his eyes that matched your own, softened by guilt, restraint, and an affection so profound it almost looked painful to carry, “Caleb…It’s always felt this way for me. Like—…Like close is never quite close enough. You know what I mean?”

Something inside him softened at your confession. His eyes searched yours. The hand you’d guided away from his mouth never returned there. Instead, it slowly settled against your side, his fingers curling gently into the fabric of your shirt. The grip wasn’t forceful, but it lingered with quiet intention, betraying a possessiveness he was trying very hard to disguise as tenderness. It felt less like someone afraid of crossing your boundaries and more like a man who had spent years convincing himself that if he ever allowed himself to hold you the way he truly wanted to, he might never find the strength to let you go again.

“…Yeah?” He asked quietly, the single word carrying far more uncertainty than the question itself.

It sounded less like disbelief and more like he was searching for reassurance, for permission, for the impossible comfort of hearing you say it again.

“You want us to be even closer than we already are? You’re—…” He swallowed hard, the movement visible beneath your gaze, “you’re literally on top of me right now, Pips…I don’t know how much closer we could get. I mean—…”

You could. You had spent years imagining all the ways. Your fingertips drifted upward with agonizing slowness, brushing beneath his lower lip before tracing the familiar line of his chin. Every inch of him radiated warmth, the fever making his skin almost unbearably hot beneath your touch. You followed the strong line of his throat until your fingers settled over the frantic flutter of his pulse. It pounded against your fingertips with such urgency that you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. Gently, almost reverently, your hand curved around his throat, your thumb resting beneath his jaw while your fingers cradled the opposite side. You weren’t squeezing. You didn’t need to. Simply holding him there, feeling the life racing beneath his skin, was enough to satisfy the possessive ache blooming inside your chest.

Caleb’s reaction came immediately. His eyelids fluttered weakly, his breathing turning uneven as another helpless swallow rolled beneath your palm. You felt every tiny movement, every involuntary response. His pulse only grew faster the longer your hand remained there, hammering wildly against your fingertips while the rest of him stayed perfectly still beneath you, as though he didn’t trust himself to move. A sheen of perspiration glistened across his forehead, dampening the loose strands of brown hair that framed his face, and the flush warming his cheeks deepened until it reached the tips of his ears. Watching him unravel beneath you sent a feverish thrill coursing through your body. Even if you hadn’t been sick, you knew it would have affected you exactly the same.

You loved seeing him like this. Not because he looked vulnerable. Because he was yours. At least, that was how your heart wanted to believe it. The world had already stolen him from you once. It had ripped him away without warning and left you to grieve a future that never happened. Ever since he’d returned, a quiet panic had rooted itself somewhere deep inside you, whispering that it could happen again if you weren’t careful enough. You hated that feeling. You hated every mission that took him away, every order that demanded his attention, every person who borrowed pieces of him you selfishly believed belonged to you.

Sometimes your love stopped feeling soft. Sometimes it became desperate. Hungry. You wanted to wrap it around him so tightly that nothing, not death, not war, not the endless stars themselves, could ever pull him free again. You wanted to shackle him with every ounce of affection your heart could hold until loving you became as inescapable as gravity itself. You wanted him hopelessly tangled in your orbit, bound so completely to your side that leaving would become impossible, not because he was forced to stay, but because the very thought of existing anywhere without you felt unthinkable. The frightening part wasn’t the thought itself. It was how right it felt.

“…We could get even closer,” you whispered, your thumb absently stroking beneath his jaw as you watched his pupils slowly widen, swallowing more and more of the brilliant violet until his eyes resembled galaxies collapsing inward, “we could get so close that I never have to worry about losing you again. That I could just…I could just meld you to my side forever and ever. Wouldn’t you want that, Gege?”

The nickname seemed to melt straight through him. His lips parted soundlessly, his next breath catching in his throat beneath your hand as though the single word had reached somewhere he’d spent years trying to bury. His pulse fluttered wildly against your fingertips, betraying him long before his face did, and for a fleeting moment the restraint he’d worn so faithfully looked dangerously close to splintering. There was no fear in his expression, no discomfort, no desire to escape your touch. Instead, he looked at you with an aching hunger that mirrored your own, as though your impossible fantasy wasn’t frightening to him at all. If anything, it looked painfully familiar, like you’d just spoken aloud the very thought he’d spent years locking away inside himself, terrified that if he ever admitted how badly he wanted to keep you just as close, he might never be able to pretend otherwise again.

“…You know that’s a line we’ll never be able to uncross if we cross it, right?” He breathed, his voice barely louder than the space between you.

The words sounded like a warning, but they lacked conviction. If anything, they carried the aching uncertainty of someone who already knew the answer and was desperately hoping the other person would make the choice for him. There was fear in his eyes, but it wasn’t fear of you. It was fear of himself. Fear that if he took even one step beyond the invisible boundary he’d spent years drawing around the two of you, he’d never possess the strength to walk back across it again.

Your lips curled into the smallest smile, “yeah…”

The answer came so easily it almost surprised you. You’d made peace with that possibility long before this conversation had ever happened. Slowly, almost absentmindedly, you shifted against him, arching your spine just enough that your body settled even more completely over his. The movement was subtle, but you felt the immediate effect it had on him. His hands, already resting at your waist, tightened instinctively until they trembled. His fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt and sweats beneath the blanket, gathering them into tight fists as though he needed something to anchor himself before every ounce of restraint he’d built over the years simply dissolved. The grip wasn’t enough to hurt. It wasn’t even enough to stop you. It was enough to keep you there. Enough to make sure you couldn’t drift even an inch farther away.

You couldn’t help noticing the irony. Caleb had spent years pretending he was the one constantly creating distance between you, convincing himself every careful hesitation was an act of self-control. Yet whenever you actually found yourself in his arms, he never seemed capable of letting you go. Every embrace lingered longer than it should have. Every goodbye ended with his hand still resting on your back for one last second. Even now, while insisting he was afraid of crossing lines, his body betrayed him completely. His grip clung to you with a quiet desperation that felt almost unconscious, as though some instinct buried deep inside him refused to risk losing contact once he’d finally been allowed to hold you.

Typical Caleb. Always pretending he was the composed one. Always pretending he wasn’t just as needy. Just as clingy. Just as hopelessly attached.nThe realization made something warm bloom inside your chest because, for all the ways you liked to imagine yourself as the more obsessive one, the truth was beginning to look far more balanced than either of you had ever admitted. You counted every blush and every trembling breath like treasured keepsakes, secretly wanting to wrap him so tightly in your love that nothing in the universe could ever pull him away from you again. Caleb, meanwhile, spent every waking moment convincing himself not to reach for you while unconsciously refusing to loosen his grip whenever he finally did. The two of you weren’t standing on opposite sides of the same line. You were simply staring at it from opposite directions.

“But…” Your hand slowly left his shoulder, one fingertip drifting upward until it found his lower lip. You traced it with impossible gentleness, feeling the faint, familiar layer of lip balm he’d only ever seemed to remember when you were around. The thought made your heart ache with quiet affection. You wondered if he’d ever noticed that little habit himself or whether he’d simply grown so accustomed to wanting to look after every tiny thing whenever you were near that he’d stopped questioning it altogether. Your thumb lingered there for another heartbeat before your eyes lifted to meet his again, “…What if I told you that I wanna cross every line? Would you cross them with me?”

The room fell impossibly still. Caleb didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t know. Because he did. His gaze remained locked with yours, his pupils swallowing the violet of his irises until almost nothing remained but black, and the hands gripping your waist tightened by the smallest fraction. It wasn’t enough to restrain you. It was enough to tell you that somewhere beneath all his discipline, all his careful boundaries, all the promises he’d made to himself about protecting you from the parts of him he considered too selfish to deserve daylight, there lived a man who had spent years standing at that very same line, wondering what it would feel like if, just once, the two of you stopped pretending neither of you wanted to cross it.

The poor man looked as though he were moments away from spontaneously combusting beneath you, and the sight sent an intoxicating rush through your already fever-addled mind. His face had flushed so deeply that the color stretched from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, every shallow breath lifting his chest beneath you while his violet eyes remained hopelessly fixed on yours. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from him. Every tiny reaction he gave you felt impossibly precious, each one feeding the obsessive part of your heart that had spent years wondering if you were alone in your feelings.

Your own pulse raced just as wildly, your thoughts softened into a hazy blur by the fever burning through your body. Logic had long since melted away beneath the relentless heat and the unbearable closeness between you. Somewhere in that delirious warmth, a reckless thought settled into your mind, growing impossible to ignore. It was something you knew you would never have the courage to do under ordinary circumstances. If he didn’t want it, if you’d misunderstood everything, you could blame the fever afterward. You could both laugh it off, call yourselves delirious, pretend your overheated minds had wandered somewhere they never truly intended to go. The possibility offered just enough courage for your body to move before your fear could stop it.

Slowly, you shifted lower against him, your body gliding only a few inches down his taller frame until your hips settled nearer his. The movement was tentative, almost hesitant, until both of you inhaled sharply at exactly the same moment. The shared gasp hung suspended between you as Caleb’s hands flew instinctively to your hips, gripping them with trembling urgency. The hold felt beautifully conflicted. One hand seemed determined to stop you where you were, while the other betrayed him completely, pulling you the last fraction of an inch closer instead.

Then you felt it. Heat. Firmness. An unmistakable hardness resting beneath the loose fabric of his basketball shorts. It lay slanted across the hard line of his pelvis, pressed along the space above his thigh, fever-warm and impossibly rigid beneath the thin material separating the two of you. Even with no experience of your own, there was no mistaking what your body had found. That was his cock. His rock hard cock. The realization stole the breath from your lungs. Your heart lurched so violently it almost hurt. Every blush, every trembling hand, every frozen embrace, every carefully measured breath suddenly rearranged themselves into something painfully obvious. He wanted you. God, he wanted you.

The thought echoed through your feverish mind with dizzying intensity. Something possessive inside you bloomed almost painfully at the discovery, wrapping itself around the realization with greedy delight. Somehow, seeing the physical proof affected you more than any confession ever could. His body had betrayed every secret he’d fought so desperately to bury, and for one fleeting, intoxicating moment, he was completely incapable of hiding from you. It made your chest tighten with an almost overwhelming need to gather him closer, to cradle him until there wasn’t a single inch of distance left between either of you. Every irrational part of you wanted to keep him exactly like this forever; flustered beneath you, blushing because of you, unable to disguise how deeply he wanted you in return. You wanted to lock this moment away somewhere no one else could ever reach, selfishly hoarding it alongside every blush and every stolen glance you’d spent years collecting.

“Please,” Caleb breathed, the word escaping him with heartbreaking vulnerability. His voice sounded rough, strained almost to the point of breaking as another shaky breath left him. Fever had left him flushed and unsteady, but there was something else unraveling him now, something he’d clearly spent years holding together through sheer force of will, “Y/n, I’m too weak to think straight right now, I—…Might just…Give in…You sure? There’s no going back once—“

“—I’m sure,” you answered before he could finish, the words leaving you almost faster than your thoughts could keep up.

Relief crashed through you with such overwhelming force that it nearly made you dizzy. It had never all been in your head. You weren’t the only one carrying this impossible secret. The love you’d spent years hiding, nurturing, questioning, and quietly convincing yourself was too obsessive to ever be returned had been living inside Caleb all along, just as fiercely, just as painfully restrained. Neither of you had been suffering alone. Neither of you had been the only one standing at that invisible line, terrified to take the first step across it. All those years of carefully dancing around one another suddenly felt unbearably unnecessary. The final barrier that had existed between you, the one built from fear, guilt, and relentless self-denial, finally stood within reach, ready to crumble beneath the weight of everything the two of you had been starving to admit.

Unable to stop yourself, you eagerly climbed back up his body until your faces were only inches apart once more. Your hands rose instinctively to cradle his fever-warmed cheeks, your thumbs brushing softly across skin that had become impossibly familiar over the years. His eyes never left yours. They searched your face with almost desperate tenderness, as though he were still trying to convince himself this wasn’t another dream destined to disappear. His arms circled your waist again without hesitation, pulling you securely against him while one hand slipped into your hair with practiced familiarity. His fingers threaded through the strands before cupping the back of your head, guiding you just a little closer until scarcely enough space remained for another breath between you. The gesture was gentle, but there was nothing uncertain about it anymore. It felt like the first time he’d allowed himself to hold you the way he’d secretly wanted to for years, no longer pretending that letting you go had ever been something he truly wished to do.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you finally confessed.

Caleb closed the distance himself. The realization didn’t fully register at first. For one dizzy, impossible heartbeat, your fever-clouded mind refused to believe what your body was feeling. Surely the heat had finally cooked the last sensible part of your brain. Surely this was another dream; the kind that had haunted you for years, so vivid they left you grieving when you woke. But dreams had never felt like this. Dreams had never carried the scorching warmth of his skin as his face fit naturally against yours. Dreams had never pressed trembling lips against your own with such aching certainty. Caleb was kissing you. Caleb had chosen to kiss you. He had been the one to erase the final inch between you, his fist tightening involuntarily at the roots of your hair as though even now, after finally surrendering, he couldn’t stop himself from holding on.

Your head spun so violently you thought you might lose consciousness. Fireworks exploded behind your closed eyelids, bright enough that the rest of the room simply disappeared. Nothing existed except him. You clutched him with the same desperate hunger, one fist knotting itself into the damp collar of his shirt while your other hand cradled his burning jaw, terrified that if you loosened your grip for even a second, reality would remember itself and rip him away again.

At last. After all these years…At fucking last. Every lonely, miserable night came crashing back into you all at once. Every time you’d lain awake staring at the ceiling until dawn because your heart wouldn’t let you sleep. Every time you’d hidden beneath your blankets, too ashamed to admit where your thoughts always wandered. Every stolen fantasy that ended with Caleb’s face. Every trembling kiss you’d practiced against the back of your own hand while pretending, just for a moment, that it was really him. Every time you’d touched yourself between the legs while imagining his voice, his hands, his body, only to come apart with his name trapped silently inside your throat before curling into yourself afterward, consumed by the crushing certainty that there had to be something deeply broken inside you. You had cried over it more than once. You had begged yourself to stop. You had promised yourself you would move on, that you would bury those feelings somewhere no one, including Caleb, could ever find them.

You never could. No matter how much guilt hollowed you out afterward, no matter how disgusted you felt with yourself, no matter how desperately you wished your heart would simply choose someone else, it always circled back to him. It was always Caleb. Every fantasy. Every impossible future. Every aching daydream. Loving him had become less like a feeling and more like an illness that had rooted itself so deeply inside you that separating it from your own identity no longer seemed possible. Sometimes you genuinely wondered whether your brain had been wired wrong from the very beginning. Whether something inside you had always been hopelessly twisted. Obsessive. Possessive. Irredeemably depraved. You had spent years believing you were carrying that sickness alone.

You weren’t. Caleb was kissing you back. Not cautiously. Not out of pity. Not because the fever had stolen his judgment. He kissed you like a starving man who had finally been allowed to eat. His lips met yours with years of restrained longing poured into a single impossible moment, every careful wall he’d built around himself collapsing all at once. You felt it in the way he held you, in the way his fingers refused to leave your hair, in the way his body instinctively drew yours closer instead of letting you drift away. He had wanted this. He had wanted you. For how long? The question made your heart ache almost as much as it thrilled you.

Maybe every blush you’d collected, every trembling hand, every frozen embrace, every lingering glance hadn’t simply been evidence of hidden affection. Maybe they had been evidence of the exact same madness. Maybe Caleb had spent years swallowing the same unbearable hunger. Maybe he’d stared at the ceiling at night imagining you. Maybe he’d hated himself afterward, just as fiercely as you had hated yourself. Maybe he’d spent years pretending distance was enough because he knew that if he ever allowed himself one kiss, one confession, one selfish moment, there would be no putting the pieces back where they belonged. Maybe he was every bit as obsessive. Every bit as possessive. Every bit as hopelessly ruined by loving you as you had always been by loving him.

The thought should have frightened you. Instead, it soothed something ancient and aching inside your chest. You weren’t alone. You never had been. The secret that had poisoned both of your hearts for years had never belonged to just one of you. Relief crashed through you so fiercely it almost hurt. Your lips chased his with desperate devotion, kissing him harder, greedier, pouring every lonely year into the way you held him. You coaxed his mouth open with gentle insistence until he finally surrendered, and the first tentative brush of his tongue against yours drew the same helpless sound from both of you. The quiet moans dissolved into the warmth between your mouths as your fingers dug deeper into each other, neither of you capable of deciding whether you were trying to pull closer or simply afraid to let go. Beneath the blanket your bodies pressed together with a desperation that felt years in the making, clinging to one another with the quiet panic of two people who had already lost each other once and silently vowed they would never survive enduring it again.

When the two of you finally broke apart to breathe, it wasn’t because either of you wanted to. It was because neither of you could pull enough air through your congested noses, leaving you both panting softly into the narrow space between your faces. Even then, neither of you loosened your hold. Your fingers remained buried in his sweat-damp shirt, in his hair, against the feverish warmth of his skin, while Caleb clung to you with equal desperation, his hands refusing to leave your back as though they had forgotten how to exist anywhere else.

When you looked into his eyes, another shiver rolled deliciously down your spine. His violet gaze had gone heavy-lidded, half hooded beneath lashes dampened by fever, the intensity behind it almost frightening. He looked completely overtaken by you. His breathing came in uneven pants, his cheeks burned crimson, and whatever discipline had once lived inside that brilliant, controlled mind of his had finally been drowned beneath the same delirious sickness consuming your own. The realization sent adrenaline surging through your already depraved little brain. He looked every bit as poisoned as you were. Every bit as hopelessly gone. It filled you with a sick, overwhelming sort of joy that made your arms instinctively tighten around him. You wanted him closer. Closer than this. Close enough that there would never again be room for anyone or anything to wedge itself between the two of you.

The need became unbearable. Before either of you consciously decided to move, your mouths crashed together again, the second kiss carrying none of the tentative disbelief of the first. It was greedier. Hungrier. Years of starving restraint finally collapsing beneath the weight of mutual surrender. You kissed him like someone terrified he might disappear if you stopped, your lips chasing his with desperate devotion while his answered with equal urgency, every sound he made dissolving against your mouth.

Somewhere in the haze of fever and adrenaline, your body moved before your thoughts could catch up. Without thinking, you shifted against him, instinctively seeking the hard length of his cock beneath the thin fabric separating you. The moment you found it, both of you gasped into the kiss. His cock settled firmly between your thighs, thick, feverishly hot, and throbbing with a quick, undeniable pulse that made your entire body tense in response. Dear God…He was so warm. So achingly, irresistibly real. The sensation tore a shameless whine from him, loud enough that it echoed softly through the quiet room before disappearing into your mouth.

You felt his throat bob beneath your fingertips as he swallowed hard, only to kiss you even more desperately than before. His powerful arms cinched around the entirety of your back until you were almost crushed against him, holding you with an intensity that bordered on possessive desperation. When you slowly ground yourself down along the unmistakable shape of his thick cock, you felt him shudder beneath you, his body trembling as though every nerve had become painfully attuned to yours. The sound he made against your lips was equal parts relief and torment, and it unraveled something inside your own chest.

“I’ll cum,” he blurted out with naked desperation, the warning tumbling helplessly from him even as he devoured your mouth in another kiss. His words were swallowed between your lips, breathless and strained, while his hands roamed over every place they dared to touch. They pressed along your sides, your waist, your back, his fingers flexing helplessly against you as though he was trying to memorize every inch of your body without crossing the final line his restraint still desperately clung to. His palms followed the slow roll of your hips with aching precision, trembling as if every instinct inside him screamed to grab your ass and grind you down harder against him himself, “I’ll cum if you keep doing that—!”

The sound of him nearly shattered whatever composure you had left. His voice had always done something dangerous to you, but you’d never heard it like this. It was wound so tightly with arousal that every syllable trembled beneath the strain of it, roughened by need until it bordered on pleading. It was exactly the sound you’d spent years imagining in the privacy of your own bedroom, the sound that had haunted countless fantasies until you could practically hear it whenever your thoughts wandered to him.

There had been so many nights when you’d buried your face into your pillow to muffle your own moans while imagining Caleb saying your name with that same helpless desperation, your fingers working furiously between your thighs until your entire body fell apart around the fantasy of him. Every time it happened, guilt always followed. Shame always followed. You’d lie there afterward with tears stinging your eyes, furious with yourself for being so hopelessly fucked in the head that even your own pleasure belonged to him. Yet none of those fantasies had come close to this. Nothing your imagination had ever conjured compared to the reality of hearing Caleb unravel beneath you.

Heat exploded low in your stomach, so fierce and all-consuming that it almost hurt. It pooled between your thighs until your entire body seemed to move on instinct alone. Before you realized what you were doing, you pushed yourself upright, climbing fully over him until you straddled his hips with frantic determination. The sudden motion made the room tilt violently around you, your fever and the dizzying intensity of kissing Caleb threatening to send you tumbling sideways. For one brief, disorienting moment, you actually thought you were going to fall.

Caleb caught you before gravity had the chance. His large hands closed securely around your hips with practiced steadiness, grounding you as effortlessly as though he’d been waiting for you to lose your balance. You instinctively braced yourself with both hands against his broad chest, your fingers gripping tightly enough to wrinkle the sweat-soaked fabric stretched across hard muscle beneath your palms. His body radiated heat. It poured through the damp cotton until it almost burned your skin, and everywhere the shirt clung to him, you could see the darker stains left by fever and exertion. The material hugged every contour of his body, tracing the powerful curve of his chest before dipping into the deep line dividing his pecs and stretching lower across the sharply carved planes of his abdomen. Even hidden beneath fabric, the strength of him stole your breath.

Dear God…You couldn’t stop staring. You didn’t want to. The sight of him beneath you, flushed scarlet from fever and want alike, panting softly as those impossibly violet eyes looked up at you with complete, undisguised awe, sent another wave of longing crashing through your chest. He looked almost overwhelmed by you, as though he still couldn’t quite believe you were real, and the expression made your heart ache with possessive affection. Every irrational part of you wanted to keep that look forever. To make sure no one else ever inspired it. To selfishly hoard every blush, every breathless stare, every beautiful, vulnerable expression until they all belonged to you and you alone.

Without thinking, your hands abandoned his chest and reached instead for the hem of his shirt. The decision felt completely instinctive. You didn’t ask. You simply needed him. Needed one less barrier standing between the two of you. Your fingers hurried beneath the damp fabric, racing to tug it upward, and for the briefest moment you wondered whether he’d stop you. He didn’t. If anything, Caleb moved faster than you did.

The instant he realized what you wanted, his own hands flew to the shirt, helping you yank it over his head with an urgency so wonderfully clumsy it made your heart race even harder. The fabric caught briefly around his arms before he finally tore it free, tossing it somewhere into the room without either of you sparing it a second glance. A heartbeat later he dropped back against the mattress, bare-chested and breathing hard, his skin glistening faintly with perspiration as the fever left him flushed from throat to chest. His hands found your hips again almost immediately, settling there with unmistakable familiarity as though they’d already decided they belonged nowhere else, his fingers curling just a little tighter than before, reluctant to risk even the smallest chance that you might slip away now that he’d finally been allowed to hold you like this.

“Put your weight down on me…” He breathed hoarsely, his voice rough enough that it barely sounded like him anymore.

His hands tightened around your hips in a slow, encouraging squeeze that hovered dangerously close to possessive as he guided you to settle your full weight over the throbbing, feverishly hot hardness trapped between him and your pussy. The instant you sank against him, a sharp sigh tore free from his chest. His violet eyes fluttered before rolling back beneath heavy lids, his lips falling open as every muscle in his neck strained visibly beneath skin slick with perspiration. His broad chest rose sharply beneath your trembling hands while a shudder raced through his entire body.

“F-fuck! Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re—…D-doing this to me!” The last words escaped between gritted teeth, dragged from somewhere deep inside him with a growl that sounded equal parts overwhelmed and utterly ruined.

The sound alone nearly unraveled you. Your pussy fluttered helplessly around nothing, your clit buzzing with sharp, relentless electricity as you rolled your hips along the unmistakable shape of his cock without the slightest trace of hesitation. There was no teasing. No coy smiles. No careful restraint. Years of starving yourselves for one another had stripped away every ounce of patience either of you possessed, leaving behind nothing but raw, savage need.

You moved against him with the desperate greed of someone who had spent too many nights imagining this exact moment, chasing every impossible fantasy until reality finally surpassed it. Watching Caleb come apart beneath you was intoxicating in a way you never could have prepared yourself for. Every strained breath, every helpless grunt, every growl vibrating up from his chest sent another violent pulse of heat crashing low through your stomach. His voice, roughened by fever and pleasure alike, poured deliciously into your ears until another shiver raced through your entire body. You couldn’t tell anymore whether you were burning because of the fever or because Caleb looked so devastatingly beautiful losing himself beneath you.

Your thoughts dissolved into complete mush. All you could think about was him. The way his hands kept begging at your hips, gripping tighter every time you rolled yourself over the thick press of his cock as though he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to slow you down or desperately encourage more. The way his entire body refused to stay still, restless beneath you as grunts, sharp sighs, rough growls, and the occasional miserable little sniffle slipped free despite his obvious attempts to keep himself composed. Even now, sick and flushed and panting, Caleb still looked as though some stubborn part of him wanted to maintain control, yet every movement of your hips shattered another piece of that discipline until all that remained was the man underneath it; the one who had spent years pretending he didn’t ache for you exactly like this.

It thrilled you. God…It thrilled you so much it almost frightened you. Some possessive, ugly part of your heart drank in every helpless sound he made. You wanted to memorize them all. Lock them away beside every blush, every trembling breath, every stolen glance you’d hoarded over the years. You wanted to be the only person who ever heard Caleb sound like this. The only one who ever made him fall apart so completely. The thought was selfish. Twisted. Maybe even a little insane. You knew that. Yet instead of pushing it away, you only found yourself grinding harder, greedier, silently delighting in the way his body answered yours so eagerly. If loving him had turned you into something obsessive, then perhaps there had never been any saving you. Judging by the way Caleb clung to you with equal desperation, perhaps there had never been any saving him either.

The room dissolved into nothing but heat. Both of you panted into the tiny space as your bodies writhed together with desperate, uncoordinated urgency. Every roll of your hips drew another strained sound from Caleb, every helpless thrust of his hips beneath you answering yours without conscious thought until neither of you seemed capable of remembering who had begun moving first. The heat between your legs grew blinding. Your clit throbbed with relentless intensity, every brush against him sending another wave crashing through your body while your thighs burned from the effort of refusing to stop. Sweat dampened your skin until strands of hair clung to your forehead, your breathing dissolving into broken little pants as the pressure low in your stomach tightened so suddenly it almost stole the air from your lungs.

The realization struck all at once. Your entire body tensed. A startled gasp tore from your throat as your fingers dug instinctively into Caleb’s flushed, sweat-slick chest, your nails leaving crescent-shaped marks against his skin while your hips faltered for only a heartbeat, “I-I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum, oh, fuck!”

Before your mind could even catch up, Caleb’s fist shot forward, latching onto the front of the elastic waistband of your sweats. His fingers balled the fabric with such desperate force that you felt the urgency pouring out of him seep through your very skin, as though his need had become something tangible enough to wrap around you completely. Your eyes flew open for the briefest moment, only to find him staring up at you with an expression so fiercely, frighteningly passionate that it stole the last coherent thought from your mind. His violet eyes looked completely consumed by you, stripped of every careful wall he’d spent years hiding behind. The intensity of that gaze alone was enough to send you tumbling over the edge, and when his desperate grip silently urged your hips into another merciless grind against him, the pressure bursting through your clit became too much to bear.

“Caleb!” You cried, your jaw falling open as your head tipped back toward the ceiling.

Your eyes squeezed shut so tightly that bursts of brilliant color exploded behind them, white-hot pleasure crashing through your clit before radiating violently through every inch of your body. Your entire frame shook from your head down to your curled toes, every muscle locking and trembling as wave after wave ripped through you. You desperately shoved yourself along the thick shape of his cock, riding out your climax with broken moans and ragged gasps while your fingertips dug helpless crescent marks into his flushed, sweat-slick chest. The sensation overwhelmed you so completely that you couldn’t tell where your own body ended and his began anymore. Everything inside you had become heat, trembling, and Caleb.

“Cum for me!” Caleb fell apart beneath you with absolutely no shame, his voice bursting from him in a feverish frenzy that sounded almost euphoric. His powerful hands locked around you as though he couldn’t bear the thought of you slipping away even a fraction, holding you firmly against the trembling grind of his hips as they bucked helplessly beneath yours, “Y/n! Y/n, cum! Yeah! Yeah, cum on it! C-cum—! With me—! Cum with me…”

Every word dissolved into a groan so deep and raw that it vibrated through his entire chest beneath your hands. Even without any experience, there was no mistaking that sound. It wasn’t simply another moan or another strained breath. It was unmistakably the sound of Caleb coming apart beneath you. His whole body convulsed in powerful shudders as his cock pulsed hotly between your legs, each involuntary tremor stealing another helpless sound from his throat while his breathing dissolved into broken pants. The expression on his face, eyes squeezed shut, brows drawn tight, lips parted around another wrecked groan, burned itself into your memory with painful clarity. You knew, without anyone ever needing to tell you, that you were witnessing his climax, and something fiercely possessive bloomed inside your chest at the realization that you were the one who had undone him like this.

The room pitched violently around you. Your head spun so hard that you couldn’t remain upright any longer, your exhausted body threatening to collapse as the aftershocks still rolled through your trembling thighs. Caleb caught you before you could even begin to fall. His arms wrapped around you with the same instinctive certainty they’d always had, gently pulling you down until your body melted against his burning, sweat-slick chest.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t move. You could barely remember how to breathe. All you could hear was the frantic pounding of his heart beneath your ear, still hammering wildly inside his chest as though it hadn’t yet realized everything was over. His arms trembled from exertion and fever alike as they settled around you, but they never loosened. One broad hand found the back of your head, cradling you with impossible tenderness while his fingers lazily stroked through your hair. The slow rise and fall of his chest rocked you gently as you buried your face against the heated scent of his damp neck, finally allowing yourself to sink into him completely.

The two of you lay there for a long while without speaking, still tangled together beneath the blankets as you caught your breath in quiet unison. Caleb continued holding you with absentminded affection, his thumb tracing slow circles through your hair while every so often his lips brushed softly against your forehead or temple, as though reassuring himself you were still there. You noticed he never once loosened his embrace. If anything, he seemed to gather you a little closer every passing minute, unable to stop touching you now that he’d finally allowed himself to.

“I’m never letting you go, Pips…” He breathed quietly, his voice warm against your hair, “you know that, right?”