-Love Yourself-

It starts off as a date idea, and a silly one at that - you’ve made it a tradition with Caleb, once a month you go and visit grandma’s grave…and then you take a detour to his. 

Sometimes it’s just so you can stare at him, that you can realize there is nothing there, under that headstone, throwing yourself into his arms and letting him remind you that he is real, that he is alive and his heart is still beating under your touch. 

And sometimes it’s so you can - very dramatically, mind you - talk to his grave, while he watches, snickering as you air your problems about him, to him, in front of him. He protests, every now and again, saying it’s rude to bring up grievances with the dead - but at the end you end up giggling, tugging at his cheeks, just so happy he is with you. 

Tonight, it’s late, very late, and you’re watching a meteor shower. Sprawled out onto a comfy blanket, and curled into the crook of his arm. 

You’d planned on watching from the balcony of your place, before Caleb reminded you the light pollution would ruin it.Then you had brought up going out to the country, but he had simply tutted his tongue and reminded you the last time you did this, you were kids, and it was with grandma. 

And so to the cemetery you went, saying hi to her before he slyly remarked that his headstone is a better place to sit, with a better view of the stars.

“I thought you wanted to watch it with Grandma?” You elbowed him in the side, and he laughed, pulling you close. 

“She’s here, we said hi, I think she’d appreciate the gesture.” He shrugged a little, already marching off towards his headstone. “And anyway, I can feel her glare any time we get to cuddling. She always wanted you to end up with ‘Doctor Zayne’.” And you had watched him mimic the fawning way Josephine used to talk about him. 

“Grandma just didn’t…” You paused, trying to figure out the best way to say it. “She didn’t realize the depth of our feelings.” And you nodded to yourself - yeah that’s a pretty good way to put it. Better than saying that Grandma didn’t want you being in love with and having sex with the boy she raised as your older brother.

Oh well, you sighed. As much as you miss her, you know if she was still here…neither of you would have been brave enough to go this far. You shot an apologetic look towards her grave, before grabbing Caleb’s hand, entwining your fingers and swinging your arm. 

And she would be happy you're both happy, you're sure of it. Caleb is taking care of you, like he always promised her…and now you get to stand by his side, you get to take care of him too. 

“Why're you so quiet?” He murmurs, here in the present, brushing his lips against your forehead. “Don't tell me you're falling asleep, pipsqueak.”

“Not a chance.” You huff, shifting to look up at him, to catch his sweet - adoring gaze. The starlight makes his eyes almost shimmer, galaxies laid bare for you…and you alone. “I was just thinking.”

“Dangerous.” he snickers and you huff, swatting at him, just for him to grab your hand, drawing it up to his lips to press a gentle kiss there. 

“Ugh, how am I supposed to be grumpy with you when you are so sweet.” And he grins, a wolfish flash of his teeth before pressing another kiss, just a little lower, to your wrist. 

“You aren't.” He says cheerfully. “You're supposed to always forgive me, even when I'm being big dummy Caleb.”

“Where is your hundred-year forgiveness coupon?” You ask him, reaching to pinch his cheek, rewarded with the sweetness of his laugh. 

You wish you could capture the moment of his genuine smile, of his sweet laugh - and hold it forever, keep it those weeks where he's gone with the fleet, or when you're gone on missions. 

“There is that look again.” His smile shifts to something like concern. “When you're thinking of things that make you upset -”

“I just….ugh.” you shake your head, reaching to grip at the material of his shirt, letting your fingers slip under the fabric so you can nervously rub circles against his skin. “It sounds stupid because you're here , you're right here with me.” And you shift so that you're pressed as close as you can be to him, your leg hooked over his, and your hand over his heart, feeling the steady beat. Here he is, alive and breathing, and full of concern as he looks up at you. “I miss you.” You grumble, like admitting it is a chore. “Preemptively. You're here, but I'm already missing you, thinking of when we are apart again.” You don’t know how else to say it. “When you leave…when you aren’t here, all i can think about is this place. Where I thought you left me.” 

“Pipsqueak.” And Caleb sighs softly,  shifting you so you're sprawled on top of him, his arms around you. “D’you want me to tell you you should focus on thinking about right now, instead?” He isn't teasing now, he can tell your mood is serious. “or….D’you want me….to admit that i’m always missing you too. That….after I left, all I could think about was you, and how I had left you…How I had left you all alone.” There is regret there, even as He's gently stroking at your cheek with his thumb, and cradling you against him. “I think about you, about leaving you, and about coming back, down to the minute.” And his nose brushes yours as he kisses you softly. “And when we aren't together, all I want is to be with you.”

“Maybe it's because I'm staring at your grave.” You sigh, pressing your forehead against his. “I'm…I'm - I just feel like there will never be enough time. I lost you once, after all.” It’s a bit petulant, in the way you can be with him, as you lightly pound on his chest. “I can’t…I can’t lose you again.” And he sees right through you, you know it, sees past the childish fit, to the heart of it. To how terrified you are to lose him, to end up in a world where he is gone, where he won’t come back to you. 

“I'm right here.” He reminds you, grabbing your hands, to bring to his heart, to feel it thrumming again, to feel the fact that he is alive. “I'm here now, and I'm alive, I'm with you.” His purple eyes are so soft, so sweet and you kiss him. Because you can, because he’s here, and he’s alive and he’s yours. 

The miracle of it, that he would be with you, isn’t lost on you, and as soon as he lets your hands go, you are moving them to cup his face. 

“Big dummy Caleb.” You mumble, and he pushes himself up, taking you with him. “Hey- “ and now his back is against his grave stone, and right behind his head you can see the picture of him, the one you picked to memorialize him…from his DAA graduation. 

A picture you had snapped of him, looking so handsome, so happy. Before…before all this. Before the explosion, before the fleet, and before that damn chip - 

“This is more comfortable.” His voice shakes you from your thoughts. “And I can hold you closer.” Which he does, squeezing you tightly, till you whine, the dark cloud above your head lifting just a little at his antics. “That’s better.” He whispers against your ear. “I just had to squeeze out a bit of your sadness, Now I need to find something to replace it with.” 

“With Caleb.” You answer him, dropping your voice a little low. “I want you to replace all my sadness with you.” and your hands drift down his chest. He’s so firm, and so warm underneath your touch, and you can feel the pit in your stomach - where dread is being replaced with something altogether more…Carnal. 

Its heat swirling just under your skin, a coil you badly want to break. The best way to be reminded that he’s here with you - when he’s buried to the hilt inside of you. 

“You…” and you can see the way his Adam's apple bobs as he gulps, just a quick movement. Just enough to clue you in. “Here, are you sure?” 

“Here…” and you lean forward, your mouth against his ear. “Should we put on a show for grandma?” You have no idea why you say it, but once it’s out, Caleb’s eyes are wide, and then narrowed, a heavy breath leaving his lungs as he grips at your arms.

Not painful, but strong. Strong and sturdy. 

“That is…you are really something else.” But he sounds eager, wanting, like he always is for you. “Are you really sure?” “Ask me that one more time, and we will be going home.” You huff. “And not to…to do that either.” One of his worst habits in your opinion, it's like he can’t fathom just how much you want him, and how you want him…literally all the time.

“One of these days you’re going to have to just get over it and say the word.” Caleb snickers. “You’re a big girl, right Pipsqueak? You’re a grown up.” And okay, he wants you to fight him, you think to yourself, scowling at him.

“You - you think I can’t say it?” you ask him. “Seriously?”

“I mean…you still haven’t. Are you worried Grandma will hear?” He says, his eyes full of mischief. “Are you a coward - “ “I am trying to - to fuck you. Here, in a cemetery, at your grave.” You blurt. “Fuck, have sex with you, copulate, have intercourse, make love - “ and he silences you with a heated kiss, one of his hands tangling in your hair, pulling it free from the scrunchie you had keeping it up. 

“You’re such a bad girl.” He teases, his breath so hot against your skin, you shudder. “Saying all those things here. In a cemetery! Who raised you?” and you gently smack at his shoulder. “She’s right over there, don’t be mean!” and it’s joking, a way to overlook the trauma of it all - at least for you. The more time passes, the more complicated you realize Caleb and Josephine’s relationship was. Both united in a love for you…and not much else.

“Stop thinking so loud.” Caleb is kissing you again, lips warm, and you grin when you taste the lip balm you gave him on them. “Focus on me.” He trails kisses along your jaw, then into the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking in a love bite.

“Ngh - Caleb -” it's a whine, soft and sweet for him. “Be gentle.” “We both know you don’t want that.” That timbre in his voice, God he makes you feel weak in the knees. “Always beggin’ me to be gentle, then demanding I be rough. You’re so bossy.” His hands slip under the cozy dress you had popped on for this adventure, meeting the pretty lace panties you were wearing. “What’s this? Did you plan this whole trip for mischief, Pipsqueak?” He asks.

“I know a certain Colonel of the farspace fleet likes to see meteor showers.” You very coyly raise the material of your dress, revealing what his hands are touching. “And I also know he likes it when I wear pretty lace panties.”

Before you realize it, he’s got you scrambling to grasp onto his grave stone, his fingers rubbing your clit through that oh-so pretty lace.

“Then you also know that the colonel likes it best when they’re soaked.” His teeth graze your ear and you shiver, the feeling of his firm chest pressed to your back making you almost as dizzy as the feeling of his fingers rubbing your clit. “Gonna make you cum in these - “ “So you can keep them?” You are panting, gripping at the cool stone. “So Colonel pervert can use them to get off when he’s on long missions?” 

“Colonel pervert, eh?” You can feel his hard on pressing against your ass, and he’s shameless about it, bucking his hips against those panties. “That’s a new one.” and he is slipping your panties to the side just enough to slide his fingers into your cunt, to grind his palm against your clit.

“Ngh - Caleb - !” 

“Nope, Caleb isn’t here right now.” He leaves another mark against your neck, this one enough to make your eyes roll back at the feeling of his teeth, of his mouth hot on your skin. “Just the colonel - punishing his naughty aide.” 

“Does the Colonel want - hngh - “ and you shift, pressing your ass against his hips. “Does the colonel wanna fuck me for being such….such a bad girl?” and heavens above, the sound that leaves his mouth will haunt all your wet dreams from here on out. “Is that my punishment?” 

“Haah - we need to work on your understanding of what a punishment is.” with every thrust of his crooked fingers, you feel stars burst behind your shut eyes. He knows exactly how to work you over. “Generally speaking the other person shouldn’t like them.” 

“But I-i - oh -  love it when you touch me.” You counter, your breath and words stuttering as you try to talk through what he’s doing to you. “So I guess you aren’t doing - ah - you aren’t doing a good job of punishing me.” 

“You’re the colonel’s weakness.” Caleb’s words are softer now, even if his touch isn’t. “And Mine too. So I’ll always let you off easy.” Yeah, you think to yourself, trying to hold on for dear life to his literal gravestone while he fingerfucks you into oblivion - he isn’t exactly letting you off easy right now. 

And the sound, you'd have the decency to be embarrassed from the squelch of his fingers inside of you if you weren't actively grinding against him, seeking out more - more of him. 

“You -” he grunts, and he's bent over you, his free hand wrapped across your stomach, both to hold you closer and to keep you from falling over against the grave stone. but whatever he's going to say is lost as you clench around his fingers, gasping his name as you cum. 

And he's always one to let you ride it out, his touch softening immediately, not keen on giving you more than you can handle before he's had the chance to properly handle you. As soon as his fingers slide out of you, you're whining, but it's harmless, just the feeling of the loss of him making you shift, circling your arms around his neck as you slam your lips against his. 

You nip his bottom lip and he obediently opens his mouth, letting you taste the remnants of the apple soda you shared earlier, and the soft mint lip balm.  he is panting when you finally pull away, his cheeks flushed, the soft sounds of his breathing making you fond. How can he….how can he make such pretty sounds?

“Caleb.” And your hands are grabbing at his belt, quick to undo it and shift down to the button, the zipper. “You drive me crazy, you know? Whenever…when you make those sounds. I just want to - you sound so pretty.” You decide against telling him you want to lock yourself in his room with him, and never leave his bed.

“Pipsqueak -” his cheeks have darkened, and he has to clear his throat. “You always say that -’

“And I always mean it.” You slide a hand up his cock, eager and not at all gentle, rewarded with a whimpered hiss, his hand grabbing your wrist. 

“Rough -” he pants and you shoot him an innocent look from under your lashes. “Don't try and pretend you don't know what you're doing.” He says and you simply lick your palm, going to touch him again, just for your hand to drop to your thigh, his evol freezing you in place .

“Caleb -” but he's hoisting you up, met with your whining as he shifts behind you. “But I wanna see your face -”

“Nope. That's for when you're being a good girl.” And it's a fun little game you think, this banter between the two of you. 

And you reach to grab the top of the stone, resting your upper body against it as you look back at him. 

“I'm such a bad girl, Caleb, what are you going to do about it?” You grin, snickering as he groans, rubbing a hand across his forehead. 

“Right now?” And he loops his fingers into your panties, tugging them down. “Right now I'm going to fuck you till you behave…or at least I'll give it my best shot.”

“Mm, I want a shot of you, Caleb - ngh!” Before you can even bask in your funny joke, he’s inside of you, all the breath leaving your lungs as your brain short circuits. He didn’t give you the usual slow slide, where he was sweet and gentle, but the burn is delicious like this, your nails digging against stone as you try to hold yourself up. 

“Mm, it already made you quiet, at least.” His hold on your hips is bruising, and you hope it leaves marks - that it leaves his fingerprints to tide you over when he’s back in Skyhaven. You’re still sensitive from your orgasm, trying to muffle your sounds with your hand as he slams his hips into yours.

No mercy - that thought is hazy in your pleasure addled brain. 

“Why’re you covering your mouth?” He asks, smug. “Are you worried someone will hear? Is it Grandma?” And you gasp at that, tossing a look back at him, just to catch his gleaming, mischievous gaze.

“Caleb! Ba~ad!” Every time he thrusts into you your breath stutters, a shiver working its way through you as he traces the curve of your spine with his fingers, pushing your dress up as he does. 

“Caleb is bad.” He agrees. “Caleb is absolutely terrible.” He punctuates each statement with a - with a slam of hips against yours, his cock buried deep inside of you. “Caleb is the worst.” “C-Caleb…Caleb is the best.” You counter, eyes shut tight, your body just so full of him. “Caleb is my favorite.” It's stammered and stuttered and punctuated by whimpers you can’t control. “Ca~aleb!” and okay, you can’t help how loud you’re being, he isn’t leaving you a choice. The way he’s fucking you, the way he just…

He knows your body best, knows you best, knows how to leave you breathless and begging for him. His sharp, quick thrusts that fade into languid strokes only to speed up again, the way his hands roam your body, conscious of the places that will have you wiggling away, and those that will have you whining for more. 

“I love it when you say my name like this.” He reaches an arm around your stomach, pulling you up. ““You should only ever call out for me, pipsqueak. Only I get to have you like this.” and now that he has you pressed against him, his chest against your back, you can turn your head, begging for a messy kiss he’s eager to give you. 

All tongue and teeth and torturous desire. His free hand sliding up your dress to cup one of your breasts, fingers pinching gently at the nipple. 

“Mmmph!” You whine against his mouth, pulling away just to look at the glistening trail of saliva that connects you to him. “Bully. As - As punishment, hurry up a-and make me cum.” and he gives you a little smirk.

“You keep forgetting what punishments are, I’m not supposed to enjoy doing it.” But he’s already shifting his hands so he can rub circles around your clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. “Your wish is always my command.” 

Now he is everything. Your every thought, every neuron in your body tied to him, just to him, all encompassing and divine. You resonate with him, without even having to try, in this moment, your pleasure bleeding into his, so that you can feel him tensing, something that sounds like your name leaving his lips.

But you hardly hear it, hardly hear anything but the unrestrained echoes of your pleasure across the cemetery as you cum again, dragging him with you - the explosion of heat spilling from your core, till your thighs are dripping in him. 

And you are sure if he wasn’t holding onto you, you’d be flat on the ground, face first in the blanket you brought, but instead, his hand is gentle as he grabs your chin, tilting your face up. “Look” He murmurs, pointing up. 

You’re greeted with the meteor shower at its peak, streaks of light shooting across the night sky. You’re entranced, letting him gently maneuver you back onto the blanket, your panties disappearing into the pocket of his pants…after he cleans you up with them. 

Then, once he’s fixed his own clothes, he's laying beside you, letting you gently play with his hair as you watch the universe’s mysteries unfold just above you, just for the two of you. “I was worried we’d miss it.” He yawns. “But look at us, we finished with perfect timing.” Caleb, your heart is fond, Caleb, always looking to the sky, even with his feet planted firmly on the ground. “Mmhmm.” You snuggle against him. “I could sleep here, you’re going to have to carry me back to the car, if I do.” 

“I figured as much.” He chuckles. “As much as I would be happy to oblige, I don’t like the idea of you falling asleep on a grave, Pipsqueak.” and he’s gently coaxing you to watch the stars, hoping the flashes across the sky will hold you enough to keep you awake.’Even if it’s my grave.” “Well, then you shouldn’t have made me see stars before there were stars to see.” You attempt another bad joke, rewarded by him groaning, laughing as he calls you corny, letting the two of you fall into comfortable silence. 

“Open the door.”  It's more frustrated than pleading at this point, as you jiggle the doorknob for what feels like the 12th time. “Caleb, you're sick, just let me take care of you!” You just don’t understand, can’t bring yourself to understand why he won’t let you in. Why won't he let you take care of him. “What are you so afraid of?” It slips out, quieter than the rest. 

He’s so - so stubborn, you think to yourself with a groan. He has been since you two were little kids, although…

Well he usually gives in to you, which adds another layer of distress to this entire situation. Was your Caleb really so far gone? Had the chip taken the part of him that was soft for you?

No - No this is still your Caleb, still the same Caleb that comforted you when you cried, that made your favorite food, that is currently acting like a big dummy. “You can’t keep me out forever you know.” You tack on, reaching into your wallet to pull out a card. Fine, if he won’t let you in, you’ll just break in.

And sure, part of this is guilt, guilt about leaving him out in the rain, guilt because you’re likely the reason he’s sick in the first place. Guilt, the emotion that eats at you more and more when you’re with him.

He can’t even trust you to take care of him when he’s sick, what kind of - what kind of alpha are you? You can’t escape the thought as you slide the card into the gap in the doorframe, using a trick he taught you against him. 

Alpha, respect you don’t deserve and didn’t earn. Great - now you’re spiraling into self loathing, this is EXACTLY why he can’t trust you to take care of him, you can barely take care of yourself. Without him to pick up your pieces, you find yourself stepping on fractured glass daily. 

*Click* You are triumphant, sliding to the ground as you hope he doesn’t notice, the last thing you need is an unlocked door kept shut by a grumpy gravity user. 

You take a breath, and find the sweet scent that meets you relaxing enough that you can’t help but just sit there. Its Caleb, whatever sort of body wash the Beta uses, or his cologne, or deodorant or something - has always made you want to sink into it.

Warm, clean, soft, safe. Caleb. It reminds you of summer sunshine, and sweetness. 

And perhaps, in retrospect, this should have been your first red flag. Why would he always smell so strongly of the same thing? Why did you allow yourself to believe that little lie for so long.

Xia Caleb, renowned Deepspace Pilot, hero, your best friend - How could you have known him for so long and not see the truth that was in front of your face.

Until it's in front of your face.

The door is open, and you’re standing there, and the scent, so sweet and calming from outside the door, is overwhelming. It's heady, heavy, sinking into you like the feeling of falling into a fresh and warm comforter, straight from the dryer. 

“Ngh - I’m fine.” Caleb says, sounding anything but, and you can feel it, the tug of his evol - but it stutters. He’s too weak, or too unfocused to use it. 

And you’re glued to your spot, standing in the doorway, staring at him. 

“Caleb, you - you’re an omega.” You blurt, tactless as always, looking at him sprawled weakly onto his bed, a sheen of sweat covering his body. “No - No that can’t be right - Grandma said - “ She had always said he was a beta.

“Grandma wasn’t always honest.” He says, his voice hoarse as he looks away from you, as he rolls away. “I was on - mmmph -” and he grimaces, flushed and in pain. “I was on suppressants, it was - it was just easier.” 

“Easier?” and You’re crossing the threshold finally, marching up to him. “Easier to lie, Caleb? To not…to not tell me?” “To not tell anyone.” He answers, flinching when you reach down and brush your hand against his cheek, his forehead. “Omegas don’t live easy lives, and my goals…” But that doesn’t seem right, you think, that can’t be the answer.

“Why are you still lying?” You ask, and it's softer this time. “Caleb why didn’t you ever tell me, why - why would you keep this from me - “ “Ugh…” and he doesn’t answer, his eyes looking everywhere but at you. You find yourself kneeling at his bedside, the porridge you brought with you now forgotten on his bedside table. 

“Caleb, just talk to me - “ “You - you are too close.” And what was hoarse before, is positively pained now. “Can’t you see that this is why - “ He doesn’t finish his words, but his hands do press pitifully against his eyes. “You smell like apple blossoms.” He murmurs, sounding half broken. “I - I can’t think right now - please -” 

And maybe you can’t think either. Because he’s sniffling, the beginnings of desperate, hot tears, blooming in his eyes, and the moment you realize, it's like a switch goes off in your brain.

You’ve always been a piss poor alpha, if you really think about it. Never good at taking care of others, always relying on…well on Caleb, to take care of you. Along the same vein, you’ve never, ever felt the call other alphas talk about - the pull, the need and desire.

You had just assumed you were a bit broken, maybe it was something with your heart? Maybe it was whatever had happened at the lab when you were young. You had accepted it, thrived in it even. You didn’t need suppressants, there was nothing to suppress, after all. 

At this moment, you realise that no, you aren’t broken - well at least that isn’t broken. 

“Caleb.” You murmur his name, softly, gently - but firmly. “Caleb - “ and you feel it again, the weak push of his evol as he tries to stop you coming closer. “Don’t hide from me.” and when your hands find his face again, it is to gently pull his own from his eyes, the sweet purple of them contrasting with the reddened irritation from his tears. 

“You can’t be in here, pipsqueak. Not while I’m like this.” He groans at your touch, at your grip on his wrists, but you’re too engrossed in trying to figure out WHY he’s so upset to notice. “Ngh - Seriously - “

“How did this happen?” You ask him, and you reach down to cup his cheek, happy when he can’t resist nuzzling against your palm. That’s the Caleb you know. “Caleb, even if - even if you kept this a secret - why?” “I wasn’t thinking.” His eyes are still glassy, half glazed and pitiful. “It's been so long - “ and you wonder what exactly that means. How long? And how had he coped before?

“You should have told me.” You answer him. “Even if Gran didn’t want you to -” “And what if…what if you thought I was weak?” he questions. “What if it changed how you saw me, what if you couldn’t rely on me -” “Caleb.” And your tone makes him go quiet, and you can see the unsettled look in his eyes. Omegas can be sensitive, especially to Alphas when they are…when it's their…

“I always relied on you.” You remind him. “But - but now that we are both adults, I don’t want to ONLY rely on you, I want to stand by your side.” And you are stroking gently at his cheek, hoping to calm him, to quiet those tears. “Caleb.” “The chip should have stopped this from happening.” He admits, something you know in your bones he wouldn’t have admitted if he wasn’t so - so overwhelmed, his skin is on fire - and you just want to…

You find yourself on the bed, leaning over him, brushing your lips against his forehead. He whimpers at the touch, a sound you aren’t sure you’ve heard from him before, but one that touches you in a way that leaves your heart pounding. “You’re burning up…” you murmur, and he laughs weakly. 

“You aren't helping.” But he curls himself closer to you, his lips meeting the skin just above your knee, and it's something like a kiss he leaves there. “Pipsqueak…you really need to leave.” and he takes a ragged breath. “I'm hangin’ on by a thread here.”

“No.” And you thread your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly in protest. “No, I'm not leaving you.” ” And you yelp when his teeth nip at your thigh, not soft but not too hard. “Caleb, what the hell -” “I want to give you - ah - I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, but it feels like you wanna punish me.” Caleb says, and he sounds as amused as he does raw, pained. “You - you can’t be THIS naive.”

“I’m not naive.” You are quick to protest, feeling something like a pout falling on your lips. “Seriously, you - you’re sick and you still have time to bully me?” “I’m not sick.” He grits out, suddenly pushing himself up, and suddenly you are nose to nose, you can feel the warmth of his breath, and you feel dizzy, dizzy from the heat of him, from his scent. “I’m not sick, you dummy, I’m in heat.” 

He says it, and you wonder idly if he’s in heat or if you are - staring at his flushed cheeks, at his eyes, shining in the dim light of the room. You grip at the material of your pajama shorts, wondering how he can be so calm, even in his condition. 

He’s always trying so hard, you think to yourself, to be strong, to be solid - no weaknesses. 

But here he is, at his weakest point - so close, so so close to you. You wonder if he’s going to kiss you, seeing the way his eyes fall on your lips.

But Caleb, so damn proper, too damn proper, just moves his hand up, covering your mouth, covering the temptation that is you, and he looks away.

No, no, nonononono - Your brain, your biology, can’t take it anymore. You grab his hand, holding him still as you press a kiss to the inside of his palm, before tilting it down, biting at the warmth of his flesh. 

And the sound he makes, something breathy, like a moan, the whisper of your name - you want him, no - it's more than want, its need. You need him, you need to take him.

“Fuck - No - No we can’t, pipsqueak - you don’t want to do this.” Why is he always speaking for you, and why is he always so wrong? 

“Don’t act like you know what I want, Colonel.” You say, and your hand finds his chest, pushing him lightly - knowing he’ll fall - and he does, laying against the pillows as you stare down at him. “You - you think you do, you think you’re protecting me - but - who are you protecting me from, exactly?” and your hands are on his wrists, pinning them down on either side of his head. It's all for show, Caleb is strong enough, even like this, to make light work of you if he wanted, but he won’t. You know he won’t.

“Why are you trying to protect me from you?” You ask him, straddling his waist, hearing the way his breath quickens. “Caleb wouldn’t hurt me.” “Who - Who says I’m protecting you from me?” He manages. “Maybe it's the other way around.” 

“I wouldn’t hurt you.” You answer and he just shakes his head, sullen and stubborn. “Caleb, tell me.” It's cheating, and you know it, an alpha commanding an omega. But playing fair with him has never been your strong suit. 

“You would.” He says it, and coming from his lips it's less accusation and more resignation. “Because you don’t want this. You don’t want me, like this.” And you frankly don’t know where he ever got such a foolish idea. “You - you would have me, and then what?” His voice cracks and you press your cheek to his, gently nuzzling him, first there and then his neck.

“Caleb is a big dummy.” You mumble in his ear. “All this time, I’ve been waiting for you, and it turns out you’re a coward.” But you don’t give him time to react, time to process what you’ve said, instead you slam your lips against his with all the fervor and clumsiness of someone who has never done it before.

Because you haven’t. 

Caleb is a beta, you could remember Josephine saying it, firmly. “You’re an alpha, it's not surprising he wants to support you but - remember sweetheart, you have different lives.” 

What a joke. You realize in the moment what Caleb had meant about her lying, and why. He is yours. Taboo or no, past or no, Caleb is yours. He is the other half of your coin, the missing piece of your heart. You come from the same stardust, woven together like a tapestry. 

He is yours by birth and by right. She might have meant well, but you would have waited a lifetime for him. 

It's about this moment in your musings when you realize that his lips are so, so soft, even if they’re chapped. Your tongue glides across them, and your teeth graze, rewarded with him opening his mouth, a puff of air that tickles at your skin. 

He’s noisy, you think, slipping your tongue into his mouth, watching how his fingers curl against the sheets. He tastes good. 

“Pip - “ He is the one who ends it, although it's not without some effort, desperation dripping from his tone. “You can’t take this back.” But his tone is husky, and his hands are on your hips. He wants this, you realize. Not just because of the heat. 

“I won’t take this back.” You counter. “Caleb is mine.” You speak childishly, the only way that feels comfortable. “You’re mine.” And his chest stutters as his breath hitches. “I’m yours.” 

“You don’t - “ “Caleb my tongue was just in your mouth, I mean it.” and your hands are everywhere they can touch. His cheek, the smooth line of his neck, ghosting over his eyes, his cheeks. “I want you.” 

“Ngh…” And he’s silent, so silent, the ruddiness of his cheeks bleeding to the tips of his ears. And you are softer this time, seeking out another kiss, gentle, assuring. 

“I wanna make you feel better.” You murmur against his mouth. “I wanna make you feel good. Let me - let me take care of you for once, okay?” 

“Hah - I - we shouldn't, what if you -” and you silence him with a kiss, another kiss. Kissing is great, you decide. Spectacular even. 

“Nope.” And you shush him before he can even finish the thought. “I just gave you my first real kiss, at my big age.” You announce, sitting up. “I've waited ALL this time. Caleb. Are you going to make me wait even longer?” 

“Your first kiss.”  he says, wide eyed at you. “No, you didn't waste that on me.”

“Caleb is so handsome when he shuts up.” You sing song at him. “It's not a waste, it's what I want. Accept it. I - I know you want me too.” And it's an experimental touch to his stomach, to the skin that's peeking out.

And he's so warm, shivering lightly at your touch. But the look in his eyes is unreadable. Even as he sucks in a ragged breath, watching you push his shirt up. “...don't you?” You ask, even though it's obvious, right? It's obvious he wants you, but that look in his eyes, his silence. 

You wonder if you're wrong, if all that desire was heat related -

“More…” he grabs your wrist, pulling your hand from under his shirt, lifting it up to his mouth, he mimics you from earlier, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Hah, more than anything, don't you get it? You are the only one I want, my only desire. My only reason -” and his breath shudders. “But I'm in heat, and you…you have to feel it.” What he doesn't say is all you can hear. 

“You aren't taking advantage of me.” You answer his unspoken worry. “I feel this way even when you aren't.” And your nostrils flare. “Even when you aren't sprawled out so pretty for me. Even when you aren't in heat.” you take a moment to lean down, to rub your nose against his affectionately. “We aren't doing this whole heat and rut thing right are we?” And he laughs, an easy, gentle sound, that settles right into the place in your heart that is just for him.

“No.” And this time, he's the one reaching for you, lighting brushing his warm fingers across your cheek. “We aren't.” but there is a shift in his tone, reluctance replaced with yearning, with that all-too-familiar wistful look. “Was this really your first kiss?”

“Yes.” You kiss him again, just because you can, and it finally seems to click in him that this is real, this is happening. His fingers slide to press the back of your neck, to hold you close enough that you can't help but smile against his lips. “And it won't be the only first of mine I'm giving to you tonight, Caleb.” It's teasing and before he can speak you continue. “You are mine, first and last. My Caleb.” 

“Ngh -” and his cheeks are so beautiful, when they're flushed like this, your eyes counting the soft freckles across them. He's so beautiful, and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon. “I am yours.” He answers softly. “I've always been.” and he presses his lips to yours, gentle and wanting, but this time the softness fades fast.

He is even noisier this time -  the sounds of his breath leaving your stomach clenching as he chases your kisses, and you want to touch him, so you do, your hands pushing up the dark blue of his sleep shirt, your nails running gently up the line of his stomach, marveling at how firm, how strong he is under your fingertips. 

He groans, your name falling off his lips almost as quickly as his shirt falls off of him, tugged off by your less than nimble fingers. 

“Caleb…” you trail, and your gaze takes him in. He is truly a work of art, a sculpture to be worshipped. “Where should I start?” Your searching gaze finds his and he has the audacity to offer you a cheeky grin.

“I dunno pipsqueak.” You're happy just to see him happy. “What part of me is calling to you?”

“Can't you ever just be greedy?” You answer him, and he sort of shrugs, giving you a sweet look. 

“I wanna see how greedy you can be, instead. That's what I want.” and he looks away, suddenly shy. “I want to see how greedy you are for me.”

“Oh, I see.” And you pinch one of his nipples, rewarded with a whine, as he jolts. “Well, I definitely want to be greedy with you…” And it's a delighted sigh as you shift your hips, the movement sending a bolt of pleasure up your spine. He's so firm, you can't help it. “You sound so pretty.” 

“Do I?” He asks, something like fluster in his voice. “For you, I can't help myself. I can't be quiet.” Of course he can't. He's your certified yapper. But you love it. Dragging your fingernails across his chest, watching the little red lines blossom across his skin. “A-Ah - “ and you don't answer him, hands planted firmly on his chest as you rock your hips again. 

Jeez, even that friction just feels so good. He wants you to be greedy right? Your mouth is pressed against the pulse point of his neck, the thrum of his heartbeat almost as delicious as the faint salt of his skin. The warmth of his scent is nearly dizzying at this point. 

And you find the rise of his Adam's apple, unable to resist biting it, grinning at the hiss of his breath.

“You - you bit me.” He pants. “Ngh -”

“I'll leave marks.” you murmur against his skin. “You can hide them under your uniform, if I'm nice enough.”

“Be mean.” Caleb answers. “Leave marks where everyone can see, be bold - hngh - “ But you know better to give into that desire, the young colonel had made more than enough enemies, he didn’t need to appear to have a weak spot. But, that doesn’t mean you aren’t sinking your teeth into him.

There are plenty of spots below the collar just waiting for your teeth. Plenty of places you know will bruise prettily, that will be sweet-sore reminders of you when he is at work. And you find them, from the juncture of his neck to the sensitive skin of his ribs, and further down, you paint him in love bites until he is trembling, hips bucking as he moans, as he whines. 

And OH, that's a feeling. He's hard, you know that, but when he bucked up into you….

You roll your hips, and before too long you're sitting up, breath quickening as you grind against him. 

“P-Pipsqueak.” Caleb is absolutely wrecked already. “Fuck, you're - this is drivin’ me crazy.” And you are happy to dry hump him like a horny teenager, happy to grab the hem of your sleep shirt, letting it land on top of his when you toss it to the floor. He groans, hands coming to cover his eyes, a shuddered breath leaving his lips.

“You better look.” You are pouting. “Seriously, Caleb?”

“If I look - ngh - if I look right now, I'm going to cum.” He says, like the thought alone isn't hot enough to make you squirm.

“Then cum.” You say, gripping at his hands to pull them off his face. “And look at me, while you do it.” 

“Shit -” and he is staring at you, staring at you as your tits bounce from the effort of grinding against him. “you're so beautiful.” He chokes out. “Ah - haaaaah -” 

“Caleb.” And you're panting from the exertion, Leaning over him again. “I - I told you to cum.” And he reaches up to cup your face, to pull you down flat onto him in a bruising, messy kiss, his body shuddering and then stiffening under you….but only for a moment, before he's shifting, a hand grasping at your thigh as he effortlessly moves you. 

The world tilts, and you find yourself on your back, looking up at him. 

His chest is glistening in sweat, and more than that, there is a wet spot on his sweatpants, evidence of his want, his desire for you. “I - I wasn't done.” You mumble, and now it's your cheeks that are warm, looking at his hungry gaze. 

“I decided…I wanted to take your advice.” Caleb brushes a strand of your hair from your face. “I want to be greedy.” 

“Greedy how?” You ask, still trying to chase the feeling of him pressed against your center.

“With everything.” Caleb is gentle at first, his fingers dancing across your skin. “I want everything, every part of you.” And you wiggle a little at the ticklish feeling. “But right at this moment.” And his hands find your shorts. “I want you here. I want to taste." The shy, reserved Caleb from before has been replaced, the hunger in his gaze making your mouth feel dry. 

“Then taste. It's all for you anyway.” You have no idea where the boldness comes from, you just want to match his energy. You want him to understand that he is what you desire most. He is who you want. 

“You - “ And he takes a short breath. “You’re going to kill me one of these days.” It's cheerful as he lifts your legs, as your shorts are removed with ease, joining the ever growing pile of laundry on the floor. His eyes widen, just a bit, as he looks you over, before settling on the growing damp spot on your underwear. “You smell so good.” Caleb’s grip on your thighs is bruising, but you like it. 

“Yeah? Like I was made for you?” You ask, trying to egg him on, all the breath leaving your body at once as his mouth finds your cunt, wet tongue against the fabric of your panties. “C- Caleb!” 

“You’re doing this on purpose.” he says, like he isn’t trying to tongue fuck you through your underwear. You can feel his nose bump your clit, a jolt of pleasure in your veins as he finally moves to take them off. “I’m keeping these.” He says, not even bothering to lie about it. 

“Should I tell everyone the Colonel is a dirty panty thief?” You ask, reaching to tangle your fingers in his hair. 

“Do it.” He grins, shoving your underwear into the pocket of his sweats. “Tell them whatever you want about me, Pipsqueak.”

“That Caleb's - ahhh - he's a pervert.” Your eyes widen, then squeeze shut at the way his mouth feels. So wet, so hot. “That he's a panty thief, and - and…and…and really good at …ah…at this.” Your hips stutter and suddenly you can feel it, his evol holding you still. 

“That's better.” He says, tilting his head up to catch your eye, his lips are glistening with you, and you whine, covering your eyes with your hands. “Hey - none of that.” and you feel the same pull from his evol, your hands pinned to the bed before you can realize. 

“This is cheating.” You grumble and he rubs his cheek against your thigh, then places a hot, open mouth kiss against your skin. 

“Think of it like kitty cards.” Caleb is teasing you. “You love to cheat at that.” but before you can reply, he's back to eating you out like a man starved. His tongue, you have no idea why he's so good at this, and really you don't want to know either. Right now, you just want to lose yourself in him, lose yourself to him. 

“Caleb -” you whimper his name, and your heels press into his back, trying to get him closer. “This feels so - I need more.” and he's more than willing to give you whatever you want, lips circling around your clit as he sucks, as stars burst behind your eyelids. Then it stops, and you can't stop yourself from complaining “why -”

“Hey…” he murmurs your name, kissing the softness of your stomach. “Can I…” and he holds his hand up, flexing his fingers. 

“Please, yes.” You agree immediately and he grins. 

“I'll go slow.” He promises and you huff, lightly nudging him with the back of your foot. Why’s he think you can’t take this? 

“Not TOO slow, colonel.” you answer him. “I'm not going to break.” And he laughs, a breathy, low sound.

“Are you sure about that, pipsqueak?” And he flexes his fingers again, before drawing them up to his lips, sliding them into his mouth to suck. Pulling away with a trail of saliva attached to his fingertips. “I have to make sure these are nice and wet for you.” His words are just a little slurred, a little messy like his fingers. 

And it's just, so unbelievably hot, your hips lift upwards and his free hand is planted right by your head. 

You remember, suddenly, just how much bigger he is than you, even as he moves to kiss you, swallowing the gasp from your mouth as he slides a finger into you, slowly - so slowly.

“”Ngh -! Caleb…”

“Yeah?” He brushes a kiss to your forehead. “It's okay….I'll go slow.” He repeats himself and you want to groan in frustration - How he can go any slower you aren't sure, but he waits until your body has relaxed, until the tension has melted from your face. And then he is moving. 

“I - I can take another.” You blurt. “I promise - ngh - I don’t want to be teased, Caleb.” and to your surprise, he listens, and the curl of his fingers inside of you makes you feel weak, makes you feel hot all over.

“You can always command me.” His voice is a low whine of want. “You’re my alpha. I…I want to please you.”  How can he sound so pretty with his fingers buried in your cunt? You wonder, but you’re hardly thinking as his palm rubs against your clit. His hands are rough, but in a way that feels so sweet against your skin, you just want….

“Ngh…” and you grab his free hand, forcing him to sit up a bit to steady himself. “C-Caleb -” 

“Is everything okay?” He is quick to be concerned, to slow his fingers but you simply press his palm to your cheek, turning your face to kiss his hand, then you are kissing at his fingertips, then you're licking at them, pressing them against your lips, your tongue. “W-what -” he manages before a hiss leaves his lips as you slide two of his fingers into your mouth, sucking at them. “Fuck -” 

“Exactly. “ You answer him. “Enough, enough foreplay.” And you lower his hand to your chest. “Your fingers aren't enough, for me or - or you. So….let me have you. Let me take you.” And the loss of his fingers inside of you makes your heart clench. 

No, you want him back, you want him inside of you, connected to you. “Caleb.”

“I - I -” and he is rolling off of you, hooking his fingers into his sweatpants and yanking them off. “Pipsqueak, will you -” and he doesn't even have to say it. 

“Oh yeah -” and you are looking down at him, hungry for every piece of him, especially his cock. So pretty and so…

Big. 

Yeah it makes sense for you to be on top - you think - so you can set the pace. You reach out, gently trailing your fingers up his shaft. He groans, your name is like a prayer when it leaves him. 

“Wait -” and his bedside table drawer flings itself open, a bottle levitating before falling into your lap. Its lube, and in your silence, he sort of half sighs. “I can’t - we can’t just do this without lube, dummy. Or…or it won’t feel comfortable…for you.” 

“You want me to…?” You trail and he nods, watching as you open the bottle, squeezing some onto your palm.

“More than that.” He tells you. “Don’t give me that look.” Caleb speaks before you even have the chance to give him that look, watching you squeeze more onto your palm. “There - good girl - ngh - “ of course, his praise is cut off with your hand on his dick, watching you slowly work the lube onto him.

He’s making all those pretty noises again, you think, and he feels so warm under your touch, so heavy against your palm. “If - if you keep this up - I’ll cum again.” He rasps. “I’m in heat.” It's both a reminder and a justification, one that makes you snicker.

“Caleb already came in his pants from me, maybe he can cum on my hand next.” But even as you speak, you’re crawling on top of him, sort of hovering over his center, as you align yourself with him. 

This is it. You think to yourself. There is no going back from here. You reach for him, both your hands finding his, fingers twining together as he helps to steady you. You take a breath. 

“Relax.” He squeezes your hands with his. “Being tense will make it worse. I don’t want to hurt you -” “You won’t.” You cut him off. “I’m…I’m not scared or anything.” You grumble. “You’re just…really big. It's intimidating!” You are whining, and he’s just - he’s just staring at you, his eyes soft as his thumbs softly rub at your palms. 

“Take your time, then…” He says. “Your little maneuver earlier…I’m not in as much pain anymore.” meaning his heat has somewhat abated, at least for now. “So…if you aren’t sure - we - “ “Stop trying to talk me out of this.” You huff, before taking in a long breath. “I don’t want you to cum on my hand, or in your pants, I want to feel it - I want to feel you, all of you, I just - I want to be connected to you.” and you’re doing this, slowly sinking down on him. 

“Hngh - “ He lets you go, but it's only so he can reach to support you, his hands on your waist, holding you steady. 

“A-Ahah - “ Now you’re the noisy one, gripping at his arms, digging your nails into his skin. “Caleb - “ “You’re doing so well.” He praises you. “You feel so good. You’re so beautiful, you’re always so beautiful…but especially like this.” His whole stomach is tense, the muscles taut as you take him as much as you can. You weren’t lying. He’s big. 

But you feel…even the sharpness fades to a tender ache. You feel full of him, and it's…it's perfect. 

“Mine.” Is all you manage to breathe out, and you rock your hips, rewarded with an obscene sound from him. “Caleb is mine.” Maybe it's his scent all around you, or his touch, or what is happening, but you just, you can’t stop the drip of tears on your cheeks, even as you ride him. 

“Pipsqueak.” The familiar nickname sounds so soft, so loving as he pushes himself up. “I’m yours, I’ll repeat it, as many times as you want.” He is kissing at your tears, his arms circling around you, comforting as your arms wrap around his neck, as you press against him, still shifting your hips as you cling to him in a hug. 

“I love you.” You breathe against his ear. The confession is quiet, a little secret just for him. “I love you, Caleb. My Caleb.” and you’re sniffling, his hand warm on your back as he rubs circles against your skin. “I - I want to be yours, I want to be by your side.” 

“Ngh…”His grip around you tightens as he buries his face against your neck. “You - you are my heart.” He says, the hoarseness back in his voice, for a completely different reason this time. “My weakness, and the reason I’m strong. You know I love you.” Caleb doesn’t hide it. “I’m yours, I love you, you - you are everything.”

“Mates?” You mumble feeling him stiffen just a little at the suggestion. And you can feel his heartbeat too, forced into calmness by the chip. 

“I’ve always been yours.” Is how he answers. “H-However you want me, I’ll take it, even pain, so long as it is from you…Just…please…” And he is pulling back to look at you, his eyes shining, no - glistening, in the dim light. “Don’t regret this in the morning.” “Never.” You kiss him, panting against his mouth. “I - I won’t regret this, ever.” and he’s helping you, you realize, you can feel the grip of his evol, moving your hips, as he drops a hand to circle your clit. Your tears turn into tears of pleasure, fingers digging into his back as his name falls from your lips over and over again. 

“My pretty girl.” He is so gentle with you, even as you can see he’s falling apart, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I love you.” Now that he’s said it, he can’t seem to stop. “I love you, I love you.” He’s kissing at your cheeks, your eyes, your forehead, your mouth, your neck, praising you as you lose yourself in him, in the warmth and comfort and safety and love of him…in his scent and his taste and his touch. 

He holds you as you fall apart, as the hidden waves inside of you swallow you up, leaving you satiated and trembling, and you hold him as his heat fills you to the very brim, as he pulls you back against the pillows, holding you tight against him. 

Caleb is still inside you, and you make no move to change that, far too content in the feeling, even as you yawn.

“Sleepy?” He murmurs, kissing your forehead. “Should I clean you up?” “Let's stay like this.” You answer him. “I’m not…I’m not done.” Even if you don’t mean it like that, he sucks in a breath.

“I’m in heat, but - but I might need to rest a little.” And at that, you snicker.

“The colonel is a panty stealing pervert, and he has bad stamina.” it's a joke made even as you snuggle closer to him, letting him pull the blanket over you. “...Caleb.” “Yeah?” He smiles a little as you smooth his forehead, as you gently pinch his cheek. “What is it pipsqueak?” “I love you.” 

“I love you too - “ “We knocked the porridge over.” You tack on and he audibly sighs.