#cal x reader

You’re wearing Cal’s sweater. It falls past your ass, skirting along your thighs as he watches you light the candles that rest upon the dresser. They bathe the bedroom in a sultry glow, illuminating your flushed skin from your earlier love making. He hadn’t meant to come here tonight, hadn’t meant to end up in your bed, but that doctor’s appointment had left him craving the comfort he finds between your sheets so he’d appeared at your door, hands tucked into his back pockets as he stood on the porch of your cabin.

“You want a reading?” You ask.

His gaze is drawn to the set of tarot cards in your hands. He’s not the spiritual sort, he’s seen too much, done too much but he could do with a little guidance from the universe, he needs a fucking sign or something because right now it feels like he’s going fucking crazy.

“I could do with a fresh perspective.” He says, his back straightening up against the headboard your daddy carved out for your momma’s martial bed when he was courting her. The pain in his neck throbs, not enough to have him reaching for the pills but enough to remind him that it’s there, underneath the surface.

“Ok then.” You climb back onto the bed, the cards passing from your hands to his as he shifts so he can sit cross legged, creating a small space between the two of you.

He’s an old hand at this now, he knows the routine. At first, he did it just to humour you, but now… he sees his future shifting between his hands as he shuffles the cards. His past and present flicking through the, as he thinks of his question, the one that’s been on his mind since he received his diagnosis.

Is this thing going to kill me?

You wait patiently until he’s ready, tucking an errant strand of hair back behind your ear as he lays out three cards across the sheets in front of him. Left to right: his current situation, his obstacle, the universe’s advice for resolving the matter.

He raps his fingertips over the first one before he flicks it over revealing the Two of Swords.

“Indecision.” You say, and he sighs because yeah, that would be about the summary of it. Should he consider the possibility of surgery? Should he do chemo hoping it’ll prolong his life long enough to make up with Maddie?

He turns over the next one. The Five of Pentacles.

“Illness.” You state, your head tilting up to meet his gaze. “They’ve certainly got you pegged tonight.”

You know, of course you do. You’ll say it’s magic, the universe whispering in your ear, but he thinks it’s perception, that maybe you’re a lot cleverer than you realise when it comes to reading people. Or… maybe he’s just not been that good about hiding his pills as he thought he was, and this is you giving him the space to wrap his head around it before he tells you the full story.

His hand hovers over the last one, his fingertips trailing over the worn pattern. These cards, they’ve been in your family for generations, just like the rest of the holistic stuff. Your people have existed for eons up on this mountain as healers, and now you’re the last one left running a 22-acre nature-based nonprofit that provides a safe, peaceful environment for veterans, trauma survivors, and individuals in recovery to heal and reconnect.

It’s how the two of you met. You’d helped to quieten the noise in his head and five years later, you’d run into each other in that bar where Maddie works when he took up the Marshal’s position out here.

He’d call it fate but… that’s a little too woo woo for his taste.

He turns over the last card. The Hanged Man.

“You need to take the time to make a decision, recalibrate.” You say and he rolls his eyes to the sky because of course the fucking universe couldn’t just give him a hint on how to deal with this thing.

“That was a complete waste of time.” He tells you, gathering the cards up and handing them back to you. “Didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know.”

You shake your head as you reach across him, placing the tarot cards down on the nightstand. Your skin brushes lightly over his as he stretches out his legs, settling them between yours until you’re straddling his hips. “Did you think the cards would solve all your problems Cal? That they’d disappear in a puff of smoke like magic?”

“Yeah, maybe a little.” He says sourly as his hands grasp your waist, kneading the flesh as he looks up at you with messy hair and needy eyes.

“You know it doesn’t work like that.” Your nose chases over his, a tender, intimate gesture that makes things a little too real in the moment.

It’s not just Maddie he’s leaving behind as he stares down the barrel of his mortality, it’s you too. You’ve had your own share of heartache over the years, and he doesn’t want to be the one that adds to it.

His hands slide lower, delving underneath the hem of the sweater, grasping your bare ass. He needs a distraction from these thoughts, something to chase sway the darkness that’s starting to claw it’s way through his soul again.

“How about you make me forget all about it instead?” He whispers, sliding down the headboard until he’s lying flat on the pillow. He urges you further up his chest, your thighs on either side of his head, giving him a tantalising view of that perfect pussy of yours. “How about you put your hand on the headboard and ride my face a little, show me a different kind of magic?”

“Cal.” You murmur but he’s already nuzzling his face between your thighs, his beard raking over your sensitive skin with that delicious friction. Your hand comes to rest on the headboard, fingers digging into the wood as his lips find your clit and his tongue starts to work its own magic. “This doesn’t mean we won’t talk about his later.”

He doesn’t respond, instead his grip on your ass tightens as he drags you down onto his mouth in a way that makes your head tip back as you call out his name to the stars.

Later… you promise yourself… You’ll talk after he’s ruined you.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

For a man who spends hours pounding away at metal, you were not expecting him to touch you so gently. But from the minute you showed up on his doorstep, it's been nothing but gentle caresses and soft words. You had half expected him to pull you inside and pin you to the door as he treats you to the feeling of his forked tongue rubbing against yours. Instead, he gave you a warm smile as he held the door for you to slip through.

He touches down your arms softly with his calloused hands. Then his lips follow, pressing against your skin, lingering to swipe his tongue on the more sensitive areas. It sends hot shivers through your body as he licks slowly down your neck to your shoulder. It's making you more excited with every brush of his hands against your body, and Dammon can tell…​

He presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, "Are you feeling it yet? That neediness?" He moves his finger slowly down your waist to the hem of your trousers, teasing the edge, "Or do I need to keep playing…"

Dammon smirks at your shyness before pitching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Then he pulled you in, slowly kissing your expecting lips, his tongue deliberate with every move. As the kiss continues, you feel his hands squeeze tighter on your hips before slipping down to caress your ass, till he's scooping you up, causing you to break the kiss with a surprised squeak.

Your legs wrap around his waist as you take in his bright blue eyes and perfect smile.

"I wanted to go slower, sweetheart. But I'm getting impatient to taste you." Dammons growls as he walks up his stairs. Still holding you like your weight is nothing to him.​

Clinging your arms around his neck, you look at him, confused, "But ... We've already kissed."

Dammon smirks before he lowers the two of you to his plush bed. With his body weight over you, it feels like you can hardly breathe, and it makes a shock shoot down to your core to have him pressing his solid build on you.

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips; " You really are a sweetheart, aren't you..."

Dammon kisses down the column of your throat as his hands start plucking away at the laces of your shirt. The more skin revealed to him, the further down his kisses go. Down your chest, over your sensitive nipples, against your soft stomach, till he's pulling your trousers down and kissing against your thighs before pressing his mouth and tongue to the wet spot of your underwear.

His hot tongue caresses the fabric against your clit, and it has your legs squeezing his head in surprise. Dammon looks at you, confused, and you stutter an apology. "I'm sorry ... I've just never had a guy do that to me before ."

Dammon smirks, "Taste you through your panties?"

" ... Um ... give me oral .....”

Dammon's expression suddenly turns serious. "Then lie back, and if you want me to stop, just tell me."

You smile at him before he goes back to kissing against your clothed sex, making the wet spot bigger each time his mouth presses against your swollen pearl. Every kiss is reverent, and every nudge of his tongue goes from either painfully slow or naughtily fast.

By the time he's kissing against your hip, and he's sliding down your ruined underwear, you're already squirming. Before diving in with his tongue, he breathes in your sex as his hands grip your breasts, making your back arch and your voice keen.

Dammon first kisses against your cunt, sliding his tongue through your folds as he holds your squirming hips down. Every slide of his too-hot tongue makes your body shiver, and your hips want to rut faster. He slides up and down your folds till he's nudging against your clit, giving quick licks. Your hands slide down your body, grabbing your breasts as you relish in the pleasure you're receiving. Then Dammon sucks hard against your clit, and you can't help yourself from reaching down to grab onto his horns. He looks up, not stopping for a moment as his tongue drives into your cunt with a pleased smirk ... only pausing to watch your face as he pushes in two fingers.

As you reach your peak, the licking and sucking against your pussy gets louder and more sloppy as his fingers curl faster. Before you know it, a tightness is constructing in your lower stomach, and suddenly it bursts into a shouting pleasure through you.

You're not even sure what had happened in your clouded mind till you see the evidence of your release over Dammon's pretty face.

Cal

"I don't think you're broken. I think that you need someone who has patience to figure out what you like."

It was something you never thought you would hear, Cal, say... but now it's out in the open like your confession...

"Do ... you have patience..." fell from your lips before you could even help yourself. Embarrassment washed over you, along with a rising flush. Everything was so still till you felt his massive hand cover yours.

Cal's eyes are focused on you, "I like to think I do ... and if you gave me the chance, I would do anything for you." How could anyone pass that up, especially when it's Cal saying it?​

With a shy hum, you grab Cal's large hand and walk him to your room. You feel your body wanting to shake. But of course, Cal was just completely perfect as he wrapped his arms around your body, stabilizing you in this moment with him.

As your hands were eager to strip away at his clothes to reveal his perfectly trimmed body. Cal, though, was slow when he kissed you, soft when he stripped you bare, and gentle when he turned you around and bent you over your own bed. Cal's hands slide from your shoulders.

down your spine, marveling how it curved in the wave of his touch. He grabs a handful of your ass, marveling at the soft fullness before spreading you apart to admire your light ring and dripping cunt quivering over nothing.

Cal smirks at your soft trembling before placing a reverent kiss on the dimples on your lower back. It's so smooth and sweet till suddenly you're gasping at the feeling of spit falling onto your ass. Cal's fingers rub the slick over your tight ring before breaching you with the tip of his thumb. The feeling of his digit stretching open your virgin hole has you moaning and clutching hard to your sheets ... but selfishly, you can't help but crave more of him.

So as his thumb continues going in and out of you, you're spreading yourself wider and arching further. Cal lifts a brow at you with a pleased grin, his length twitching from your begging for more. And he's more than determined to give you all of him.

Cal's cock is hot as it rubs slowly over your light slit, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance, making your hips buckle. He's being patient, but you need him to fuck you already.

Maybe he finally got the hint from your whining, or perhaps it was from how you pulled his tail to drag him in closer; either way, he decided to finally end your desperation by stretching you over his cock. Your velvet walls clenched against every ridge as his hands held onto your hips like a vice. Cal's pace was slow and deep, with each thrust of his hips, his cock being driven deeper and deeper. You feel your stomach coil tighter with every loud clap of skin against skin... but your release is still not there…

A bubble of ecstasy starts to billow forth before it's spiked into one of pleasure when his arm curls around your body to play with your clit. You feel the rhythm of not only his rutting but his hand picking up its pace. The pleasure rises through you like a fire, clouding your mind till you shudder in a silent scream, letting your pleasure roll through you.

After everything, you two lay tangled in each other's arms, Cal's soft snoring echoing in the dark. You laugh and curl up closer. He certainly showed you that you weren't broken.

Rolan

"In no way are you broken, I'm sure many have had that experience ... Perhaps we could practice? Use me as you need ... or let me take control.

Let him take control? And how would that bookworm of a wizard manage that?

Turns out very easily, control kinda suits him, it turns out.

You feel yourself shiver as you sit on his nude thighs, shyly you bury your face into the crook of his neck, allowing yourself to get lost in the soft scent of his hair.

"We should start slow ... " His rich voice whispers in your ear as his hot cock rubs against your drooling cunt. You gasp and clench tighter to his shoulders as he smears it through your arousal, teasing the head of his cock against your needy entrance. After enough teasing, you can't help yourself from reaching down and grasping him in your hand. Rolan's voice hums as you start pumping up and down, feeling against the sensitive ridges.

When his voice sounds more strained and whining, that's when you move to look at him, and it makes you even needier, his lips in a sharp grin ... but his eyes, completely blown in needy lust. Same as yours.

Slowly, inch by inch, you stretch yourself open on his girth. Rolan's hands squeeze the round of your ass as he holds you steady against him. His nails slightly dig in deeper as he helps guide you down.

You feel yourself tighten around him as the heat of him threatens to burn your insides. You haven't moved, and you're already panting. Holding tightly onto his shoulders, you watch as he looks up at you, and you begin to bounce.

You start slowly, moaning his name softly as you gently split yourself over his ripped length. Rolan hums into your neck as his hands wander up to your waist, trailing his nails over your skin. The feeling is mind-numbing, and you can't help yourself from chasing more. So your pace builds from slow and tender to more vigorous. Your insides are twisting with every ram of his cock to your sensitive core.

His voice gets breathier as he whines about your beauty... and how soft you feel. You are his perfection. "That's it, darling ... Use me ... cum on me.”

Rolan's hand falls from your back and reaches down to rub your clit, making your body jolt with electricity. That snap is so close you can feel it rising through your veins. Your mixed heavy pants and the wet squelching of your pussy fuel you both as Rolan starts to slam his hips up to your rhythm. The head of his cock slapping your cervix, making you want to babble endlessly.

As your back arches, you feel the sweat roll down your back, sheening your skin in lust. Your breath fans over his face as you look into his hooded eyes, muttering so softly, but your ringing ears register nothing. Then you feel him throb, and that has your coil shattering and your vision going white.

Gritting his teeth, he rocks you on his cock, guiding you through your orgasm. His hot cock burning your insides makes your eyes roll and your body quake. Taking deep breaths, your foggy mind clears, and your glassy eyes meet his dark, blown-out ones.​

You lean into his warmth, letting it wash over you. The ringing in your ears fades, and you hear his voice giving you gentle praise.

“I told you, you're not broken…”

He just always seems to be right.

Zevlor

"Just let me lead my darling... I will take care of you.”

The purr of his voice makes your whole body shake; if you weren’t flushed before, you are now. Zevlor’s eyes pierce through the darkness, pinning you in place; you can’t even bring yourself to move, so filled with nerves. Zevlors' eyes seem to rake over you before he holds his hand out towards you. “Darling…”

It completely melts you, and you reach for him, sliding your hand within his. As he leans back against the chair, which creaks, he slowly guides you down to his lap. As soon as your back meets his warm chest, you feel your breath starting to pick up slightly, and Zevlor notices.

His voice husk in your ear as his hands glide slowly over your arms and down your chest… "Don't be nervous, my darling."

His hands go lower till they are at the apex of your thighs. Moving slowly, he moves your legs to hook over his thighs, and slowly he spreads you open. He takes his time tracing over your sex, praising you for every whimper and quiver. You feel completely enthralled by him, his heat, his touch, everything in this moment is him, is his... You are his to control, to lead.

When he finally gets done with his teasing, you feel him pull aside your underwear, and you shiver. You thought the heat of him was intense before, but now, feeling his skin pressed against your rubbing so slowly, you feel your mind becoming more hazy.

His breath fans over the shell of your ear, “Do you feel it? That heat in your veins? That twisting of your stomach?”

You feel yourself tense as his hand moves against your sensitive sex faster; you can feel yourself dripping, and Zevlor is all too pleased.

He smiles as you grip him tighter, “You do… I can feel it… so wet and needy, you're so close to it, you just need to let go and trust that I have you.”

You do trust him; you always have. Of course, he would be the person to bring you so close to the edge. With his words in your head and the feeling starting to make your blood rush, you start to grind your hips, riding the ex-commander's fingers. And as your body shakes and you feel your orgasm roll over you, Zevlor puts his other hand on your stomach with delicious pressure, and as you shout from the intensity, you feel yourself squirt.

That moment of bliss is suddenly embarrassment at what you just did, and as you try to get up, you're forced back down to his lap. You turn to look at Zevlor, and your eyes nearly bulge from your head as you watch his forked tongue lick across his fingers.

Those fiery eyes meet yours, and he smiles, “I didn’t say we were done yet…”

Cal

This man is already having some trouble keeping his tail to himself. Sometimes it has a mind of its own and is already trying to wrap around his partner.

He's not sure if having his tail around them is okay yet so he settled for his hands. Hands in theirs, on their hip, on their thigh when he wants to tease...gods, he wishes he can use his tail more.

Sometimes he catches the spade of his tail gently tapping against their leg or ankle, and he immediately retracts it with an awkward apology.

He always tries to laugh it all off, but part of him is honestly ready to beg. Is it strange to want this so badly?

When they finally bring it up, he’s both excited and nervous. What if they don’t like it? Would they want him to stop? Is he already too touchy?

He’s relieved when they say they like it, they just prefer it in private. He can do that no problem! He starts wrapping his tail around their ankle or calf first, starting slow.

He works his way up to their thighs and waist, using it to tug them closer. He loves that he gets to use this now, so he takes full advantage.

Rolan

Rolan is the type to keep to himself, but much like his brother, his tail has a mind of its own. He hates it very much, since sometimes it gives away how he feels.

With his partner, he still tends to keep to himself. But his tail still reacts to anything they do or just their presence alone. It’ll stand on attention any time they walk into a room.

He thinks it’s a little pathetic, his lack of control over his tail, but his partner doesn’t seem to mind it.

When his partner asks him if he could be more touchy with his tail, he’s surprised. He’s only ever saw it as the nuisance, but they like it??

Reluctantly, he does so, and it shocks him how much he enjoys it. Being able to touch them in this way is intimate, and it makes him feel closer to them.

His favorite place to wrap around is either waist. It’s a sure way to keep them close, and he likes the way they stroke along the length of it.

He’s still that stubborn wizard we know, but now he’s starting to open up just a little bit more. All hell will break loose as soon as he starts to tease.

Zevlor

Zevlor is experienced, though he doesn’t really use his tail that often. He’s more of a hand holder than a tail holder.

His tail isn’t as reactive as other Tieflings either. He’s a Hellrider, or at least was. He learned how to control the emotions on his face and tail.

It still idly sways about when he’s calm, but it never reaches or grabs for his partner, not even instinctually. He knows his partner notices, but he never saw it as a big deal.

When they ask why, he’s oddly surprised. He didn’t realize they were thinking about it so much, so he explains he’s just not really reactive with his tail.

When they ask if his tail could hold them one night, he’s even more surprised. Was this something they’ve always wanted? Either way, his tail winds around their thigh.

He ends up loving this simple act of intimacy, especially when he finds he can’t use his hands at that moment, like when cooking with them.

You clench your jaw, the damp fabric of your shirt caught between your teeth as you struggle to keep quiet. But gods your fingers feel so good circling your clit and you’re absolutely soaked right now and you have to be quiet because Cal is sleeping in the room across the hall.

The thought of Cal overhearing your late-night activities makes your pussy clench around nothing. Eyes falling shut, you gather some more wetness and press more firmly on that bundle of nerves that has you on fire. Images of Cal’s toned forearms, freckled face, powerful thighs flash through your mind. You stifle a groan.

This is so bad, and you know it. You shouldn’t be getting off to the thought of your friend—never mind the fact that he’s a Jedi. But even when he’s only hidden behind a few thin durasteel walls, he occupies your mind. The way his eyes dance with fiery determination when a new opportunity to strike against the Empire arises. The way his plush lips curve up into sarcastic smiles at your jokes. His tenderness with BD. His softness with you.

And that’s what gets you all riled up in the first place: it’s just how genuinely good Cal Kestis is. There’s not a mean bone in his body. He takes care of you, and you of him, and the domesticity of it all drives you absolutely insane.

Which leads you here. You finally plunge two of your fingers into your tight, wet heat, imagining—wishing—it was Cal’s fingers instead. Exhaling a shaky breath, you crook your fingers up against the spongy wall of your cunt and press. Your hips rock involuntarily, and the added friction against your clit has your toes curling. You breathe deep through your nose, loosening your muscles as the wave of pleasure zinging through you crests.

And you cum, teeth unlatching from your shirt as you gasp out Cal’s name.

Once the aftershocks die down, you shuck the shirt off over your head, the neckline entirely damp with your now-cooling saliva. The temperature is uncomfy; you snatch a clean shirt from beneath your bunk to wear instead. Tossing the soiled shirt toward your growing laundry pile, you settle down under the covers at last, curling on your side as sleep finally, finally takes you.

The next morning when you wake, the comforting hum of the hyperdrive engine is silent. You must’ve arrived at your next destination while you slept. Good. Even though it’s only been you and Cal for about a year now, you still try to keep some extra supplies on board in case any of the old crew decide to rejoin you and Cal. And after your last run-in with the Empire, forcing you into hiding for a standard month, all of your supplies are low. You’ll use this opportunity to restock.

But first, you need to wash up. The lights on both Cal’s door and the ’fresher are green, meaning he’s probably up in the cockpit with BD. Slipping into the ’fresher, you lock the door behind you and turn the knob to heat the water up. Your sleep clothes crumple to the floor as you shuffle out of them, trying to focus on creating a mental list of the supplies you’ll need to pick up today. Yet, your traitorous mind keeps drifting back to your solo fun last night—heat throbbing between your legs at just the thought of how hard you came—and you shake your head angrily at yourself.

“Get a grip,” you grumble.

As if summoned by your thoughts, there’s a knock at the door. You jump. Your heart hammers in your throat.

“Kriff, Cal, you scared me,” you call through the door.

“Sorry,” he calls back, and you hear the genuine regret in his voice. “I just wanted to check to see if you had any laundry? It’ll be a bit before we’re able to get it done after today.”

“Good thinking,” you say. “There’s a pile on my floor. I can get it, though; don’t worry about my stuff.”

He doesn’t respond, and you visualize the sardonic, two-fingered salute he’s recently gotten in the habit of giving. A smile quirks your lips.

A smile that is quickly obliterated as a jolt of pure anxiety bursts through you. Gods, knowing Cal, he’s already gone to grab your dirty laundry, and the shirt—the fucking shirt—is right on top, and you know he can’t always control his psycho-Force-whateveritscalled powers.

The ’fresher door slams open and you dash across the narrow hall to your room.

To your horror, Cal is in fact there, gathering your clothes from the floor, and the warning to wait gets choked in your throat as he grabs the shirt on the top of the pile, the one that’s surely still damp with your spit and sweat.

His entire body stiffens, eyes widening, his grip on the other clothes going limp as he experiences the Force echo you’ve left behind. Feeling like you’ve been doused in gasoline and ice at the same time, it finally registers for you that you’re naked in front of Cal fucking Kestis and he’s feeling you cum to the thought of him.

“Cal, I—”

“Oh.” The strangled moan that tears from his throat has your mind reeling, never in a million years imagining that you’d ever hear him make such a lewd noise, let alone in reaction to you.

You reach for him, placing a shaking hand on his arm. “Are- Are you okay?”

He blinks and seems to physically re-enter this current moment. His cheeks are bright pink, his chest heaving. At his wide-eyed once over of your naked form, your knees nearly give out.

“I’m so sorry,” you continue. Panic seizes at your lungs, making it hard to breathe. “I shouldn’t have- I should have- I’m so so sorry, Cal, I can leave if you want—”

“Hey.” He rests both of his large, warm hands on your bare shoulders, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Deep breaths. I’m not- I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” You try to catch your breath, but the darkening of his green eyes has your breath catching for an entirely different reason now.

He shakes his head. “How long?”

Chewing at the inside of your cheek nervously, you drop your gaze. “Months. Since we first met.”

Gently, he guides your chin up so that you meet his gaze again. His eyes are soft—darker than usual, yes—but there’s that familiar softness to them that unwinds some of the tension in your chest. He holds your gaze long enough for your heart to stop pounding, but you can’t will away the swirling pit of regret pulling at your insides. He’s not mad, which is great, but he’s still not said anything and you can’t figure out what he might say or what he’s feeling or—

“Can I kiss you?”

You blink dumbly. “What?”

A faint smile ghosts over his features. “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh gods yes,” you squeak out.

A true smile tugs at his lips, and then slowly, giving you ample time to change your mind and pull away, he leans down, one hand supporting the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek. Your eyes close and you stand on your toes, meeting him halfway.

His lips are as soft as you imagined, and you can’t help the needy whine that escapes you as he pulls you flush against him. Your bare, heated skin presses against the leather of his chest piece, tantalizing against the sensitive skin of your breasts. Snaking one hand up into his silken hair, your other grips at his muscled bicep, grounding yourself. His mouth moves slowly against your own.

This is really fucking happening.

He breaks the kiss, but doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against your own. You peer up through your eyelashes at him.

“I take it you feel the same?” you ask, breathless.

“Since we met,” he affirms in a low tone. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and you catch the digit between your teeth and suck. He groans. “Gods, if I’d known...”

You just hum, swirling your tongue around his thumb until he withdraws, only to kiss you again. Electricity feels like it dances along your skin where he touches you. Blindly, you tug him backwards with you until your legs hit the bunk. Lowering yourself, he follows, bracing himself over you with his forearms to either side of your head, caging you in. With a soft moan, you hook a leg over his hips and drag him down to you. The friction of his clothes against your aching core makes you hiss.

“Fuck, take these off, please,” you plead, tugging with weak fingers at his shirt.

He sits up just long enough to rip the offending garments off, and you practically drool at the sight of his toned chest as it is revealed to you. Scars litter the otherwise smooth alabaster, and you know you’ll take your time at a later date tracing them, committing them to memory. Right now, though, your attention is drawn farther down as he shimmies out of his pants. His hard cock, the tip a gorgeous shade of pink, bobs as it comes free of its confines.

“Oh gods,” you groan. “May I?”

“Please.”

You’ve never heard his voice so strained before, and you are nothing if not eager to continue drawing sounds from him. Wrapping your fingers tentatively around the hot shaft of his dick, you hum in delight at the way he twitches in your grip. You slowly work his cock, eyes trained on his face, catching every flutter of his eyelashes, every time he bites his lip, every miniscule reaction you can possibly gain from him.

“I want you inside me,” you say.

He groans. “I- I’ve never—”

“It’s alright,” you soothe. You release him for a moment to gather some of the slick from between your folds—and can’t resist rubbing your pussy for just a few seconds, letting a broken moan fall from your lips. Then you use the slick to lube his dick up.

“C’mere,” you say, your legs widening for him to slot in between. “I’ve got you. Say the word and it all stops.”

“I want this,” he says, eyes trained on yours as he settles himself between your thighs. “I want you.”

You hum in delight and, guiding him, line his cock up with your neglected entrance. Wrapping your legs around him, you press down with your heels to push him into you.

His head falls to your shoulder with a broken, gasping moan. You clench at the burning stretch of him filling you, nails digging into his smooth skin. He’s not even touched you, barely begun to fuck you, and you’re already ready to cum.

“Cal,” you murmur, caressing his back, “you okay?”

“S’alot,” he mumbles against your skin. “Can I—?”

“Yes, please.” You press a kiss to his shoulder. “Make love to me, Cal.”

With a whine, he slowly withdraws, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging deliciously on your walls, and then pushes back into you just as slowly. You moan with him at the sensation of filling and being filled, unsure where you begin and he ends, lost in the feeling of just him. He sets a languid pace, kissing your neck, murmuring sweet words in your ear: “You feel so good. Take me so well. Fuck, I needed this. Needed you.”

When he adjusts his grip on you, reaching beneath your body to support your hips, you laugh breathlessly.

“Gonna cum like this.”

He bites down on the sensitive juncture between your neck and shoulder as he snaps his hips against yours, making you cry out. The agonizingly slow pull out, the moment’s pause where only his tip remains in your dripping pussy, and then the overwhelming burst of pleasure as he slams back into you: it’s all you know. It’s all you’ve ever known, all you ever will know. You babble praises, begging, pleading with him, the coil in your belly growing tighter and hotter the harder he fucks into you.

“Can feel you’re close,” he slurs. “Cum for me. Please.”

That’s what does it, hearing him beg for you to cum on him. You go rigid, white flashing in your eyes as the tight coil snaps. Pleasure floods through you, and dimly you’re aware of Cal growling against your ear as he rocks you through it, his promises of cumming in you only serving to draw out the shockwaves of your orgasm. You think you scream. And then, when you feel his dick pulse as he goes absolutely still, you cum again.

He’s laughing when you come down from your high. He remains in you even as he begins to go soft, his giddy, breathless giggles pure music to your ears.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

“I just— this is not how I expected today to go,” he says, still laughing.

You smile. “Maybe you should do the laundry more often, hm?”