sylus who thinks you're really cute when you're sleepy enough to make you act a bit dazed and out of it!! his teasing voice and soft touches and the adoration and love in his eyes as he gazes down at you..,mgggdfggh

"Aw, baby," he coos as you climb into bed beside him, just barely having dragged yourself through your nighttime routine. You barely even notice his tone of voice, just nuzzling into his warm palm when he cups your face. "Are you sleepy? Hmmm?"

You nod, and he hums, softly stroking your cheek with his thumb. He studies your features for a few moments, watching as you start to doze off against his hand like a cat.

You fight off the urge to sleep in order to look up at him with half-open eyes and mumble something unintelligible, causing a smirk to grow on his face as he huffs out a laugh. "What was that, sweetie?"

You try to repeat yourself, but all that comes out of your lips is gibberish. Sylus chuckles, not bothering to ask a second time. He just threads his free hand beneath your (his) shirt to gently run his nails up and down your back. You sigh, melting at his touch and slumping forward.

"Mmm, come closer," he murmurs, and you obey, nuzzling into his chest. "Thaaat's it. Let me hold you."

He guides you to lie down with him, and you follow pliantly, already halfway to dreamland.

CALEB fingers you in family dinner.

Family dinners were supposed to be wholesome. Safe. A chance to see grandma without him acting like the absolute menace he was.

Except he was. Of course he was.

He was seated right beside you, his broad shoulders shaking with laughter as he told one of his dumb DAA stories to grandma—about getting caught in the rain, about Gideon losing his footing during a drill—and all the while his free hand was under the tablecloth, two thick calloused fingers knuckle-deep inside your dripping cunt.

You’re sitting there, spine ramrod straight, lips pressed into a trembling smile as you stab at your food with your fork, praying no one notices the way your thighs are clamped tight around Caleb’s wrist.

“—oh yeah, and then Gideon totally slipped on his ass!” Caleb chuckles, his voice bright, goofy. He twists his fingers inside you at the same time, scissoring them open, curling them until your walls spasm around him. You jolt, nearly choke on air, and his eyes flick to you for just a second, smirk tugging at his lips before he looks back at grandma like nothing’s wrong.

You bite down on your lip so hard it almost bleeds, trying not to gasp, not to moan. Your face feels like it’s on fire.

“Sweetheart,” Grandma says sweetly, squinting at you, “you alright? You look a little flushed.”

“I—mmph— y-yeah! J-just the… food is hot,” you stammer, thighs shaking as Caleb crooks his fingers just right, hitting that spot that makes your vision blur.

Caleb’s hand flexes against your thigh as he keeps fingering you ruthlessly under the table, his voice steady, innocent. “Aw, pipsqueak’s always sensitive, don’t mind her. Hey, gran, pass the potatoes, yeah?”

He’s evil. Evil.

And when you finally feel the coil snap, when your pussy clenches down on his fingers so tight you nearly see stars, Caleb just pats your thigh comfortingly like he’s doing you a favor, still chatting away with grandma about the weather.

A/N : next time it's on her grave.