Down Horrendously for fictional men

The sun is hot as it shines down on you, the cone in your hands growing sticky from the melting ice cream slipping down the sides. You've got the other half smeared across your cheeks and lips, staining your skin pink. You hear a playful huff and you turn your head to look at the boy walking beside you. The one who bought you the cone.

Your gege.

"Sheesh, pips, you can at least try to keep the ice cream on the cone." He chides with a smile, napkins in hand as he gently steers you to the side. You pout at him as he holds your chin still, gently wiping the ice cream off your face.

"But it was gonna melt if I didn't finish it fast! It's super duper hot today!" You pout even harder when he shakes his head, tossing the crumbled and used napkins in the plastic bag he got from the convenience store.

"Yet it's still dripping down your hand right now."

"Oh no!" You quickly stuff the rest of the cone in your mouth, smearing your newly cleaned face with more half-melted ice cream. Caleb stares at you in silent disbelief, but you ignore him as you lick at the rest of the stuff on your fingers. Eventually, he blows out a loud breath and reaches for you again.

"...What am I gonna do with you?" He mumbles, laughing when you blink up at him innocently.

"Wipe my face off because you're a kind gege who loves me?"

Snorting, he grabs more napkins from his hoodie pocket. It takes only a few moments before you're all clean again, all signs of the cone remaining only on the grass-stained denim of your overalls. He checks his phone for the time after giving you one last glance over. He opens the palm of his left hand, wagging his fingers in invitation, which you don't hesitate to grab.

"Are we almost there, yet?" You ask as you both start walking again, turning down a street corner. Caleb smoothly switches sides with you, as well as hands, so that he's now facing the street and you're closer to the grass. Uncaring, you swing your hands back and forth while humming, skipping over a crack in the sidewalk.

"Nearly, the clinic is right down there."

"Mhm. This won't take a long time will it? It's our turn with the DVD player and you promised me we'd watch more Sailor Moon together!" You shoot him a stern look, that's immediately ruined when you nearly faceplant into the concrete when you miss a step. He catches you without batting an eyelash, steadying you with a hand on your shoulder.

"Careful, careful. I don't want to have to tell Ms. Summers that you picked a fight with the ground and lost."

"Shut up, you dummy, I'm fine!" You smack your balled up fist against his arm, but you keep holding his hand, pulling him along when he doesn't move fast enough for you.

"Now let's go! The faster we get there, the faster we can watch Sailor Moon!"

"Yeah, yeah." He easily takes control of the pace again, giving your hand a squeeze. It feels a little...clammy, actually. And a bit cold too. You frown and glance at him from the corner of your eyes. You hoped that acting normal would make his nerves disappear, but no, he's still anxious. Even if he tries to hide it, you can read him just as easily as he can read you. You look down at your feet, eyes staring at your sneakers. This is an especially important moment for Caleb, and for you once you turn sixteen too. His birthday was only a few days ago, but the matron had demanded he get tested as soon as possible. She was particularly weird about designations—maybe it has something to do with her being a Normal, you don't really know. You don't think it's a big deal what Caleb ends up presenting as, he'll still be your gege whether he's a Normal, Dom, Sub or Switch.

But, for some reason he's worried about it. You've got no idea why that is, but you also know that he won't talk about it with you. Not willingly, at least. So you've taken to try and make him forget about said nerves. Obviously, that's not really working now. And you don't have any more time to try again because now you're walking through the clinic doors. Caleb's got that fake grin on his face as he speaks with the receptionist, the one that doesn't light up his eyes, leaves them flat and cold and not like him at all. You squeeze his hand tightly, leaning into his side. You don't know what to say here, so...you hope that he can feel your support. You hope that he knows that you're here for him no matter what his test results are.

He shifts his arm until it falls around your shoulders, looking at you with a real smile. He doesn't speak, but his shoulders don't look so...heavy, once you two sit down in the waiting room. Seizing the chance, you quietly begin to ramble at him about random little things. Like how pretty the blossoming tree outside the window is. Or, how you overheard Ms. Summers and Ms. Kim gossiping about their respective partners and how terrible they are in bed. Or, how next time he takes you to the ice cream shop, you're both gonna find the weirdest flavors there and try them just because. What you're saying doesn't mean much, but it's clear that it's helping because when Caleb gets called in, you see that his smile comes easier.

You send him off with one last hug before you watch his back retreat behind the corner. You're left to sit there for nearly an entire hour before he gets ushered back by the doctor. He gives Caleb a firm pat on the back and hands him a stack of files, sending him off with a smile before he turns and leaves. Caleb just stands at the corner, bangs shading his eyes from you as he grips the papers in one balled fist. Unsure what to make of his silence, you get up and slowly make your way over to him. You cross your arms behind your back and duck a little so you can see his face underneath his hair. His eyes are blank, mouth pressed into a neutral line. You blink. You have no idea what to do with that kinda face...

You glance down at the stack of papers, easily spying the sparkling silver letter 'D' sitting at the top.

"Are you...mad that you're a Dom?" You're curious, was he expecting something else? He blinks rapidly, the light returning to his eyes as he fixes his gaze on your face. The look on his face is…strange as he stares at you.

"Do you?"

"What? No, why would I care?"

He stares at your bewildered face for a beat before laughing. Loudly. You jerk upwards when he reaches for your cheek and pinches it. Yelping, you smack at his fingers but he just laughs again.

"W-what, gege stop it—!"

"Sorry, sorry, your face just then—sorry, I couldn't help myself." He breathes out, laugh still riding on his words as he drops his hand to your shoulder. He spins you around and tucks you underneath his arm in one quick motion, walking you out the waiting room and to the doors without a backward glance. Grumbling, you poke at his ribs, but lean into his hold anyway. Smooshing your cheek against the soft cotton of his hoodie, you glance down at those papers again.

In school, they only cover the basics of Dom/Sub dynamics. The health classes in high school probably have more details about specific dynamics and stuff. But, you know that, as a Dom, Caleb will have to be paired up with someone in the future. A Sub or a Switch; someone compatible with his nature. He'll take care of them, in every sense of the word, for not only their benefit but for his. It comes with having a sub gender, and it's something that you've known was a possibility. Yet, you don't really...like that. The thought of Caleb treating someone else other than you like that makes you incredibly uncomfortable. Because Caleb is your gege, and he always will be. No one can replace your role in his life, no one else deserves to Caleb is yours.

'I should just be gege's Sub then, when we get older. Then, he'll have no choice but to stay with me. He'll be mine forever.' You blink at the thought, your entire face burning once you realize how crazy that sounds inside of your head.

"You alright there, pips?" Caleb cranes his head down to look at you, eyebrow raised at your flushed face and embarrassed expression.

I-I'm fine! Let's just hurry up, Sailor Moon is waiting!" You urge him to go faster, running ahead while keeping a death grip on his arm. You can hear his spluttered gasps, but you ignore it. Just as you ignore the blush that refuses to fade on your cheeks, mortified by the thoughts running through your mind.

“Forever, huh.” You say underneath your breath, rubbing your temple when the harsh beat of your headache pounds at your forehead. The memory sits bittersweet on your tongue, and the irony of your situation isn’t at all lost on you.

The fluorescent lights buzz softly above you. White walls look even whiter underneath their glare, the smell of stale coffee and floor cleaner burning your nostrils as you breathe in deeply. You choose to focus on the magazine in your hands rather than the empty waiting room around you, though you know you’re failing when all you do is stare blankly down at the page, not really picking up on any of the words. Quiet murmurs from the outside bleed in faintly from the shut windows, no other sound echoing out except for your soft breathing. It still feels painfully loud to your ears, and you have to bite down on your tongue to keep a miserable sound in. Just another painful reminder of how achingly lonely you are. 

You’ve tried your best to carve out a space where you can just be. Three years since moving out and you’ve got a cozy little one bedroom in the heart of Skyhaven to show for it. Working at a local bookstore is enough for you to live comfortably, eating out on occasion and having shelves full of manga and figures that’s growing day by day. You’re content with how your life is, at least, that’s the face you put on for the outside world. For the sparse phone calls you take when your parents call. Though you can lie to them, you can’t lie to yourself.

Despite all of your hard work to keep your peace, your loneliness never fades. You miss that human connection that you remember having all those years ago; the casual touches, inside jokes and easy laughter. The constant knowledge that at least one person in this big wide world knows you as well as you know yourself. With no friends and your parents being so far away, you have no choice but to force yourself to keep moving. Though, you don’t want them to be here right now, anyway. 

Not for this doctor’s visit.

“Ms. [✦].” The receptionist calls out, a friendly smile on her face once you snap your eyes up. You gladly close the magazine and place it back on the table.

“Just go down that hallway there and Dr. Park’s office will be on your right.”

“Oh, okay, thank you.” You give her a smile and nod, ignoring the worry in her eyes as you scurry to follow her directions. It’s hard to forget the pity, that terribly small smile as she gazed at you with sadness and a cloying sense of sympathy. Like you’re already as good as dead. The violent urge to spit something rude briefly crosses your mind, but it’s already too late and you’re peeking your head into an open room. Another time, then.

You’re used to swallowing back the anger, nowadays, with your rampant mood swings and sudden urges. So when Dr. Park glances up and greets you with a smile, you easily return it; as if you weren’t ready to bite the head off of her receptionist mere seconds earlier.

“Welcome in, Ms. [✦]. You can go ahead and have a seat here.” She gestures towards the hospital bed in front of her. Breathing out, you quickly stride forward and sit. Nerves settle restlessly within your gut, twisting your insides into knots as she glances over the clipboard in her hands.

“Okay, before we begin, let's just get some preliminary questions out of the way.”

You nod.

“How long have you been on suppressants?”

“About…twelve years, give or take? I was pretty young when I had to start taking them.”

She frowns, glancing at the sheet.

“It says here you’re twenty-six. You were fourteen when you started taking suppressants?”

“...The head matron was insistent I get on suppressants since there were a lot of older Doms that worked at the orphanage. More of a safety precaution than anything.” You grip your wrist tightly, glancing off to the side when Dr. Park still looks troubled. No one outside of them even knew you presented as a Sub so young; the majority of people got their confirmation well into high school. Not even Caleb knew before you left, the head matron demanding that you keep your sub gender hidden even from him. 

Thinking of him makes your chest ache, so you quickly brush past that and focus on Dr. Park.

“...Alright, when was the first time you noticed the suppressants’ strength weakening?”

“Two weeks ago. I had taken my normal dosage when a flare up happened, but it took a few hours before the medicine kicked in. And even then, it wasn’t as potent as before, I still wanted to…” You trail off, a flash of embarrassment making your cheeks warm. Everyone knows what a Sub wants when they get needy like that, and while not a prude, you’ve never felt comfortable voicing things like this. Dr. Park hums and glosses over your red face with a professional nod.

“Have you taken any more of your pills?”

“Mhm, just this morning, actually. The effects kicked in only a half hour ago.”

“So they’re even less potent now.”

You watch as she looks over your chart again. There’s a pensive set to her mouth, and when she swings her eyes to meet yours, you already know you aren’t going to like what comes out of her mouth next.

“I’m going to be frank for a moment here, Ms. [✦]. There’s only one safe option for you, right now.”

“T-there has to be a stronger suppressant I can go on, right? My dosage was pretty low to begin with—”

“If the symptoms of your hidden urges aren’t being contained by suppressants by now, then it doesn’t matter if we up the dosage or not. Your body has grown an immunity to them, and nothing else will relieve you now. Nothing but finding a proper Dom.”

You squeeze your wrist again, dread weighing your chest down. This is what you’ve been fearing ever since the pills stopped working. 

“It’s not ideal, but this is the safer option for you, Ms. [✦]. I cannot prescribe you anything stronger than your normal dose; not when you’ve been taking them for over a decade. If you need help finding a compatible Dom, we offer plenty of trusted and safe sources for you to consult.”

Each word out of her mouth makes your mouth tremble, and you can feel another fit of emotion begin to cloud your mind. Your nails bite into the thin skin of your wrist as she prattles off all different kinds of agencies that match Doms and Subs; something that does nothing for the rage and fear poisoning your thoughts. You absolutely do not want to refer to these agencies; would rather stew in your own frustration and pain then let another Dom touch you. There’s only one person you want, only one person you’ve ever loved, and only he’s allowed to be close to you. No one else.

Even if you haven’t seen him in almost a decade.

You allow Dr. Park to hand you brochures and information packets. Allow her to recommend methods of soothing your submissive urges, of ways to lessen your aches and fatigue. It goes in one ear and out the other, the replay of your failure to get more meds replaying over and over again in your mind. This is the fifth doctor you’ve been to in the past week, and it’s beginning to dawn on you that there really is no other option. No other way than to find a Dom that’s compatible enough to handle you.

Just the thought of another’s hands on you makes you recoil in disgust.

There has to be something else you can do. 

There has to be.

There isn’t.

You’ve spent a week going through the internet; visiting obscure research papers into suppressants and bonds posted years ago, random internet forums of people who’ve claimed to have lived long past the point of suppressant sickness without taking a partner, even online services where they train you to ignore your instincts and live a completely independent life.

All of them are bunk. The research papers are riddled with old data and outdated terminology, nothing but a bunch of disproven theories and debunked sciences. The internet forums scream lies when you read through them, just random losers on the internet trying to be famous by being the only Subs to never need a Dom, or vice versa. And the online services are just a scam to trick desperate Subs or Doms into paying up a whole lot of money for a whole lot of nothing in return. All of the avenues that you’ve looked into have gone absolutely nowhere, and you’re starting to realize there really is nothing else to do but find a Dom to satisfy you. Except you know with your entire heart that there’s only one man out there for you. Caleb is the only person you’ve ever let in. 

Even your parents don’t know you as well as he did. It’s not their fault, of course. You got off pretty lucky in the parents department the second time around. They were an older couple, gentle and sweet and generally everything you could ever want in guardians. But, technically, they also stole you away from Caleb. Took you away from the one space you always felt safe and happy in. You love your parents, you really, really, really do. You’re also emotionally mature enough to realize that, no matter how amazing they are, you’re still angry about it all, deep down. You’re a deeply selfish and petty person, and the resentment you feel flares up despite you trying to ignore it, as ashamed as you are to admit. 

Caleb was such a big part of your life in the orphanage, always there and present in a way that transcended the title of guardian or best friend. That was—is—your gege; always available for any and every little want you had, even after he grew too old to rely on the orphanage’s support. He was there from the beginning. Your beginning; six years old and carrying the aftermath of one of your mother’s drunken rages. He took one look at you—arm in a bright purple cast and sling, bandages wrapped around your elbows and a giant plaster taped to your cheek; bruises yellow-green covering your legs and neck, eyes sunken in and haunted—and decided that you were more than acceptable to befriend. 

There was no hesitation in his eyes as he came up to you, eyes bright and smile warm. A certifiable ray of sunshine to your gloomy storm clouds. What else were you supposed to do, then? When the boy with such a bright, dazzling sparkle gave you the time of day? Funny, intelligent, kind and so, so, so patient with you—were you not supposed to immediately love him? How could you not adore the very ground that he walked on when he could take away your pain with a simple smile, ease your darker thoughts with a carefree laugh, make you feel like the most important girl in the world with just his words alone?

You went everywhere together—every waking moment not in school you followed in his shadow, more than content to bask in the sun from your spot in the shade. He treated you like his own flesh and blood, protecting you from the kids who thought you were weird for not wanting to play with them. He helped you braid your hair into pretty styles since the matrons were always too busy and the other girls didn’t like you much. He would hold you close at night when you would get scared of the booming thunder and bright lightning, comforting you with his warm hugs and silly stories.

But that all came to a close a few months after you turned seventeen. You’d met with the couple adopting you a few times, of course. But people came in all the time, meeting with kids and talking with the staff. More often than not nothing came of these meetings, a very low percentage of them ever blossoming into a genuine adoption, especially for older kids like you. Things like that were normal, and getting picked for adoption had never crossed your mind, not until you came back from school with all your things packed and ready to be taken with you as you moved halfway across the prefecture. You didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye to your gege before the head matron was pushing you out.

Unfortunately, the week you left you accidentally broke your phone after it slipped out of your fingers and hit the corner of the wall wrong. So even if you wanted to send Caleb a text or call to tell him about everything, you couldn't because you were still waiting on a replacement.

The thought of fighting back hadn’t even crossed your mind at the time either. You were too busy trying to snag whatever you could from Caleb’s room, something real to take with you before you were gone for good. Despite moving out a few years prior, he was still able to visit you from time to time; courtesy of the staff’s general kindness towards the two of you, knowing just how important it was for you both to be near each other. You had just enough time to snag a necklace from his dresser, leaving your own matching necklace on his bed as a final goodbye. It was a silly little thing, silver and carrying two apple charms on it. The dogtag on it had been won in a crane game, the charms coming from a ball machine at the arcade you used to go to all the time. You both had gotten the same necklace from the crane game, though yours had the dogtag in the shape of a heart rather than a regular tag.

It was a precious memory of yours; one that you desperately tried to hold onto as the new hole sitting within the cage of your ribs throbbed in pain. You were crying silent tears the whole time, clutching the one keepsake you’d stolen from him like a lifeline. The feeling inside of your chest grew colder and colder as you watched the orphanage get smaller and smaller. You'd spent eleven years within those red-bricked walls with Caleb, the only one you've ever loved. Even at your young age, you knew he was it for you. Foolish, of course, and incredibly naive. But you knew in your heart then that he was the one. He ruined the concept of anyone else for you. Ruined you for anyone trying to sneak into your heart when he already takes up all of it, even after all these years later. 

What’s worse is that you’ve got no idea if he even feels the same. What if you were the only one feeling this way? It’s been so long and people move on from their childhood friends all the time. It’s natural to grow apart with time, so who’s to even say if he remembers you? If he holds those memories as close to his soft and squishy inside as you do?

It’s these thoughts that hold you back from attempting to contact him, from trying to find him. He’d be closer to his late twenties now, if you’re doing your math correctly. He probably has a normal life by now. Married, maybe he with a kid or two, with a nice house, and a pet if you’re really trying to torture yourself. You ignore the sharp stab of pain at the images flashing through your mind; of Caleb with some faceless woman, giggling children tugging at his pants legs with his eyes and hair color.

What does he even look like now? You can’t help but wonder. The memories you have of Caleb are of him as a boy, on the cusp of being a man but not quite. You can kind of picture the shape of his jaw if he grew older, the bulk he probably put on because it was easy for him to build up muscle, the pitch of his voice as it finally settled. 

Blinking, you realize that you’ve grabbed the delicate chain hanging from your throat. The screen of your computer glares at you, and you see that you’ve been here for over six hours. Distracted by memories and the fluctuating emotions rolling through you. Hormone imbalances have made your already fragile emotional state even worse, and you’re often losing time just staring into space.

Signs that your symptoms are getting worse by the day.

But you’re stubborn. Dangerously stubborn. Stupidly stubborn, even. Because even as the fevers and tiredness and nausea plague you, you absolutely refuse to look for outside help. You don’t really care that the medicine barely works now, you still take your daily dose at the appropriate times. You absolutely cannot allow someone else to touch you—just imagining it makes you feel sick.

Groaning, you hunch over and clutch your suddenly aching stomach. Cramps are now a daily occurrence for you, and your only option is to ride out the waves of pain. Heated water bottles and pressure does shit all to make it better, but you’d rather have this than let anyone touch you. Only Caleb has been able to touch you freely within your life—your parents knowing better to ask than assume, and other people being wary enough of your resting bitch face to try their luck. You can’t help but laugh when it registers.

You really are screwed here. The one option you have is so far out of your reach that it’s laughable. And only because your own body won’t allow there to be another Dom in your life. Won’t allow anyone else to fill the hole already filled by a boy who probably doesn’t even remember you.

You laugh again, tears sliding down your cheeks as you curl up into a ball in your ergonomic chair. Your nails dig into the fabric of your hoodie, the stiletto points piercing through to scratch at your stomach. Nothing helps, of course, but you’re used to all of your efforts being useless now. So it doesn’t phase you much as you ride out the harsh tides of your agony. You doze off from the pain eventually, tears drying on your cheeks as your dream of happier times; hands linked with sticky and warm fingers, ears filled with that brilliant laughter, eyes drawn into that mesmerizing color. Stardust and galaxies and everything in between sparkling within that gaze. 

You miss Caleb. You miss your gege.

You wish you didn’t have to.

A week passes without much change to your condition. You’re often lazing around in your bed instead of spending time on your hobbies, too exhausted to do much else. That’s where you are now, buried underneath your various blankets as the early morning traffic blares outside your closed blinds. Beginning to fall back asleep after being randomly woken up, you snuggle deeper into your cool pillows.

The loud and incessant blare of your phone wakes you with a start. Your eyes pop open and you scramble to find it. Half-asleep, you smack your hand along the top of your bed until your nails catch on your case. You blindly pick up the call, bringing the phone to your ear as you bury your face into your pillow.

“...Hello?”

“Good morning, dear. Did I wake you?” 

You blink, a little more awake when the amused tone of your mother filters through the speaker. 

“Mom? What’s got you calling so—” A sharp spike of pain shoots through your head, and you cut yourself off with a hiss. You bite down on your lower lip, swallowing back a pained groan when another spike pulses in the same spot.

“[✦], are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, m’fine. Just snagged my nose ring on my blanket.” It’s a plausible enough lie, and it predictably gets your mom a little huffy as she lightly scolds you about the piercing yet again. You half-heartedly listen to her go on, trying your best to get your breathing under control as the headache begins to spread from your temples to the backs of your eyes. You tune back in when it seems she’s winding down.

“And I hope that’s the last piece of metal you get put inside of you! I still can’t believe I let your father talk me into letting you go.” She huffs, and you can’t help but smirk. You didn’t stop at just a nose ring, but your mom doesn’t need to know about the other piercings you’ve got underneath your clothes and along the ridge of your ears. 

“I know you didn’t call just to argue about my nose ring. What’s up?”

“I can’t just call to check up on my favorite daughter?”

You squint. Why does she sound like that?

“I’m your only daughter, mom.”

“Yes, yes. My only daughter who never reaches out first. It’s been ages since we’ve last talked, [✦]!”

You sigh.

“Mom…” Oh boy, here we go.

“Don’t ‘mom’ me! You barely talk to us anymore. Ever since you moved into that apartment of yours it’s been like pulling teeth to get you to have more than a ten minute conversation! While your father may be patient I am most certainly not! We’re worried about you, dear. You left so quickly after you dropped out that we honestly thought something had happened.” The hurt in her voice cuts you deeply, and tears immediately prick at your eyes as you hold back a sigh.

Shit.

No, you haven’t really reached out to your parents all that much. Actually, you haven’t kept in contact with a lot of people, once you moved to Skyhaven. The only people you see frequently are the baristas at Nova and your coworkers. Which only consist of a handful of people, half of which you only give polite greetings to and nothing more. But…it’s so much easier to be like this. Going through life without your gege changed something within you. What was the point of reaching out when all you could feel was the gaping hole in your chest?

All your life you’ve been forced to bend to the whims of others; taken away from places that have been safe for you, comfortable even. You hadn’t wanted to leave your birth parents, at first. Because while they hurt you, it was a known hurt, one you had just gotten used to dealing with. You hadn’t wanted to leave Caleb when he showed you what true love was like. You hadn’t even wanted to leave your parents either, more than happy to work in the small town they lived in. But, they were adamant that you go to school, go to a local college you had no interest in whatsoever. 

So, when presented with the opportunity to leave, to choose for yourself what you wanted to do with your life, you took it. A random listing online you accidentally came across was enough reason for you to uproot your entire life all over again, though this time you were the one in charge of where you were going. As scary as it was actually moving, you’ve never felt any freer. But, of course, that freedom came with a price. The isolation. The loneliness. The increase of your need for a connection with a Dom; the only Dom you’ve ever wanted.

A price that your parents will never know about. They know that you’re a Sub, have too considering they got all of your medical records and such when they officially adopted you. But they’re both Normals, and they're from an older generation that doesn’t really know how to deal with sub genders in people. They relied on doctors and other healthcare professionals to give them direction. And when you were legally old enough to get your own insurance, you made sure the only one who had a say in what you do with your second gender was you and you alone. 

“...Nothing happened, mom. I just wanted a fresh start somewhere new. Somewhere I wanted to be at. I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping up, I guess…I guess I just got a little caught up in everything out here.”

There’s a weighted silence that follows your words, and the headache you’ve been dealing with finally recedes into something manageable. Though, the truth of your situation leaves you feeling worse. Makes you feel like the scum of the earth for keeping this away from them, but you just can’t tell them about it. Have no idea how to even explain everything to them in a way that they’d understand.

“Okay, okay, I believe you. Just, don’t be a stranger, okay? We love you so much, [✦]. All we want is for you to be happy.”

“I love you too, mom. The both of you have been so sweet to me, I can’t possibly ask for better parents.” You clear your throat, blinking away the tears beading at the corners of your eyes.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s been happening since we last talked, then? Today is my off day, so I’ve got plenty of time to spare.” You listen as she excitedly begins to talk, letting her voice act as a soothing balm as you lie there in your bed. Your headache is still there, your body aches like crazy and the hole in your chest feels like it’s only getting bigger. But, you’re still alive. You’ve still got people out there who care for you, so you’ll do your best to reciprocate that love. 

For as long as you possibly can.

The paper clenched in your hand crinkles as you stuff it into your sweater pocket, your other hand desperately toying with the silver necklace resting above your clothes. You needed all the help you can get today, and wearing Caleb’s necklace has always given you an extra rush of courage. Still, nerves twist your stomach into knots as your eyes flick over the innocuous building sitting quietly ahead of you. There’s nothing outwardly alarming about the light grey concrete and wide windows. The lawn in front is neat and clean, the bushes of wildflowers planted along the walkway leading up to the door vibrant as they softly rustle with the wind. 

‘Dom/Sub Health Clinic’ is fitted along the metal sign outside the gates. 

You can only stand there, feet stuck in place. This is a bad idea, you know that it’s a bad idea. You know that nothing you do here today will work, but…but you have to at least try. Having that call from your mom made you realize just what you’re leaving behind if you don’t find a way to erase your sickness. Just the thought of having to tell your parents you lied to them about your health sends you into the beginnings of a panic attack, and you have to take deep, deep breaths before your heart settles into its normal rhythm.

‘Once. I’ll try this out just once.’ But that doesn’t stifle the fear stirring within your belly. Every single part of you is rebelling against the idea of taking a step forward, of plunging into the unknown like this. But you’ve already set up the appointment; have already called and talked to a consultant about trying out their platonic methods of satisfying dynamics. This is just supposed to be a test, a little experiment to see if you can even be satisfied by platonic commands and Play.

But still. You can’t unglue your feet from the concrete. You just stand there. Unmoving, hardly breathing as the air blows around you. Birds chirp, leaves rustle and the occasional car drives by with the quiet whir of their engine. You zone out, the various ways this test could go wrong swirling through your thoughts. So distracted by your mind, you don’t hear footsteps walk up to you until a voice speaks up next to your ear.

“Are you okay?”

You whirl around with a stilted shout, jumping so far back that you nearly trip.

Hands reach out to steady you, skin on skin as their hands fall onto your bare arms. The touch immediately has you going rigid, a sickening feeling overtaking your mind. You don’t like this, you don’t want this person to be touching you at all. It’s like a million little ants are crawling over your skin, and you don’t hesitate to rip yourself out of the hold. Your back hits the cold gates behind you, but you don’t pay the bite of the metal any mind as you curl in on yourself.

You feel…unclean.

Dirty in a way that makes you want to gag. You don’t like people touching you randomly, it’s why you always are covered by something from head to toe. But, earlier you rolled the sleeves of your sweater up, too hot and panicky to deal with all that fabric on your skin. You were trying to cool off before starting your session, but now you’re severely regretting ever doing that.

You scurry deeper into the gates when you hear the person take a step towards you, and you throw out a hand to stop them.

“D…don’t come any closer!” It comes out more like a wheeze than the yell you were aiming for, but the person in front of you freezes. You blink, rubbing your arms to try and rid the feeling of their hands on your skin. But it’s hard when panic makes your breaths come in short and fast. Even though your eyes are wide open, you can’t see a thing in front of you. Can’t even tell who the person is trying to calm you down. You’re only getting more and more panicked, tears falling down your cheeks as your breaths come out faster, shakier. You hate this, you hate this, you hate this. 

‘Unclean, unclean, unclean.’ 

“Shit. Look lady, I’m not trying to hurt you or anything, okay? It was just an accident, I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t touch me, stay back!” You don’t even hear their words, panic deafening you to everything around you but your racing thoughts.

God, why did you come here again?! Why did you ever think this was going to work out?! How could you think anyone could get close to you when you’re like this? If a casual, accidental touch sets you off now, there’s no way you’d be able to handle commands like this. Not when it feels like you can’t breathe, when panic and fear is all you seem to know. When you feel so dirty being touched. You let out a sob as your legs give out on you, tears blurring your darkening vision as a pounding headache beats wild drums along your temples. The chain you have on bounces as you fall, and the gleaming flash of silver makes you think of him. You feel hot, feverish as memories of Caleb flash before your eyes. You want him—you need him so badly it makes you sick. 

“Gege…” Your voice is completely unrecognizable, choked and high-pitched. Black encroaches along your vision, the fever finally knocking you unconscious. The last thing you remember is feeling that cold metal dig into your back, tears wetting your face as you mumble for a Dom who will never hear you.

You feel it pretty much everyday, now; the symptoms of not only suppressant sickness, but dynamic neglect. 

After the disaster that was your last clinic visit, you haven’t been outside of your apartment in almost two weeks. All you do is come home and go to work. You barely even take care of yourself anymore, in too much emotional and physical pain to do anything else besides lay in bed.

The constant stabs of pain to your sensitive nerves. The headaches and stuffy sinuses. Feverish dreams that haunt you, yearning for just a little bit of freedom from your chronic agony. Sleep comes in short bursts, the deep ache in your bones keeping you from getting more than three hours at a time. A tangible weight sits on your chest, suffocating you with the strong urge to go out and find a Dom. To allow yourself to surrender to those commands that you desperately crave. Sex matters of course, but that’s not the core of what you want. Maybe for others it’s easy to focus more on the sexual aspect of things, but it’s the trust and affection that comes from a Dom/Sub bond that does it for you. Intimacy, the knowledge that you can entrust yourself to your Dom because they’ll always, always be there for you. 

You desire to be spoiled endlessly. You want to be used; to be taken care of and treated like nothing more than a doll—a toy to be taken apart and put back together again over and over and over. Until you’re a crying, whiny mess. That kind of want is easy to take advantage of by others; you’re constantly aware how intense your desires are, how consuming they can be if you ever allow yourself to fall. But there’s only ever been one person who’s worthy enough to see you like that, and he’s not here with you. 

So you fix your face into something unapproachable; cold and mean, glaring at anyone who comes close. You conceal your wants and needs behind the safe spaces between the shelves of the bookstore you work at. You hide within the cozy and warm atmosphere of your apartment, a sanctuary for you to break down in without shame or fear. You push it all deep, deep down; below the pathetic, sniveling little creature that is your submissive self. You’ve got no other choice. Not when you’re all alone.

‘No other choice.’ 

The face that stares at you from the mirror is one you don’t recognize. Pale skin riddled with beads of sweat. Dark bruises beneath wide, bloodshot eyes. Greasy and matted hair that you haven’t felt like washing as of late. Exhaustion makes its home within the marrow of your bones, its lines plain to see in the slouch of your shoulders. In each tiny, painful movement as you force yourself through your morning routine. You’ve got a long, boring day of work ahead of you. It's your turn to man the register so you’ll at least be able to sit down. 

You finish brushing your teeth, eyes flicking to your makeup bag sitting innocuously on the bathroom sink. Normally, you’d at least pretend like you weren’t dying on the inside by putting on a fresh face, even if it was only a casual look. But you’re so tired now, you don’t feel like not only going through the process of applying, but then also going through the reverse when you come back from work later today. 

Bare face it is then.

You slap a bit of moisturizer onto your face as a lazy compromise, signing deeply as you leave the bathroom and shut off the light. After that it’s pure muscle memory that has you dressing for work—thermal tights, leg warmers, a pair of biker shorts and an oversized sweater. Days like this call for maximum comfort, so you slip into a pair of chunky platform sneakers. You hair, well. Your curls lost their definition a while ago, so you quickly run it through with a brush and section it off; by the time you’re finished, you’ve got two pigtails. Water bottle in hand and messenger bag tossed over your shoulder, you’re ready to begin yet another monotonous, pain filled day. Before you leave, however, you make sure to stuff your pill bottle in your bag. You took the proper dosage when you woke up, but you already know you’re gonna have to pop more as the day goes along.

By your last count you’ve got a handful of pills left—enough to last you the week but that’s it. Your original doctor had stopped your prescription after the last time you saw him, so you have nothing left to rely on after this week. Time is slowly running out for you, growing thinner and sicker by the hour, but you refuse to allow yourself to lie with a stranger. The less said about your first and only outing to that previous Dom/Sub clinic the better. You need something deeper, something more intense. You need someone who will love you in every sense of the word. You need someone you love and trust already to be able to help you.

You need your gege.

You press your lips into a pained grimace, a boiling heat building underneath your skin. Anger is a familiar feeling for you lately though you can’t decide what makes you angrier; your own weakness or the illness making you weak. It’s hard to say when your normal consists of your emotions being in a constant state of instability; switching between feeling everything to feeling nothing in the same breath. Ridiculous, all of it. You especially.

Sigh.

One last look around your dark apartment and then you’re off, ready to make the fifteen minute walk to Cloud Book and Co. 

Clack-clack.

Clack-clack.

Clack-clack.

Your nails drum against the old wood of the counter, eyes watching people pass by outside as your music plays through your earbud. 

There’s no one here, of course. No customers at least. Jeremy, the son of the owner of the shop and your boss, is currently squirled away within his office. You don’t know what exactly he’s doing, but you don’t mind being out here by yourself. Prefer it, actually. Since if he was here, you’re sure he’d just worriedly glance at you every few seconds. Your symptoms started flaring up the moment you sat down behind the register, and you instantly knew you’d be getting no relief anytime soon.

Fresh waves of pain assault your senses, and you think you’d be used to it by now. But these things never get any easier. You’re just glad you can be in pain in peace. Cloud Book and Co. is a small shop nestled in between an already closed storefront and a casual diner. You guys don’t get much traffic since the store mostly specializes in second-hand books. New and upcoming releases have their own displays and there’s a pretty sizable amount of inventory that are all freshly ordered. But, most of your sales come from college kids reselling their old textbooks or families looking to get rid of old children’s books. 

Often, your days look a lot like this; sitting on your ass for about six to eight hours, doing nothing the entire time. It used to be one of your favorite ways to spend a work day. You could listen to your music and read, or maybe watch a video or movie while you busied yourself with meaningless sorting. But now you can’t even do that, the persistent throb pulsing throughout your entire body. Even the music can’t distract you, but you’ve still got at least another five hours before you have to clock out.

You sigh through your nose and close your eyes.

It was only supposed to be for a moment, nothing longer than a few minutes to try and block everything out. But when you next blink your eyes open, Jeremy is shaking you awake, a concerned furrow to his brow as he quickly scans over you.

“Go home.” He says firmly, not even waiting for your protests as he quietly watches you stand. And honestly? You’re way too tired to even protest. So you just nod a little, sluggishly gathering your things as he busies himself with the register.

“Get some rest and come back when you feel better.”

“But, sir—”

“No buts, [✦]. The store isn’t gonna collapse because it’s only me here, we don’t get that busy anyway. You can take a few days off to get rid of that cold, I know mama won’t mind either.” 

The lump in your throat is hard to swallow past, and your eyes water. It’s a nice sentiment, but a common cold isn’t what’s making you look like this. You never disclosed your secondary gender to Jeremy; only his mother knows, and that’s just because the information is a part of your government records. A shiny silver ‘S’ that designates your secondary gender. The reason why you’re currently in hell.

“...Thank you, sir. I’ll let you know when I feel better enough to come in.”

He waves you away with a half smile, the worry on his face feeling less suffocating than usual.

“You good to get home by yourself? I know it’s a short walk, but…”

“It’s alright. I want to stop by Nova and pick up something anyway.” You sling your bag over your shoulder, breathing out steadily when another flare washes over you. You check the time on your phone. It’s nearing three o’clock in the afternoon; slow hours for the cafe only a few minutes from here. Which means you should be able to be in and out without much fuss. 

“If you’re sure. You rest up now, young lady! I don’t wanna see you back here unless you’re in perfect health.” He playfully wags his finger at you, and the smile you give him isn’t even forced. The kindness feels like a balm to the live wire that is your entire mood, and with one final goodbye, you walk outside. 

Ten minutes later, you’re shouldering your way through the doors. Your breathing is slightly labored as you shuffle inside, sweat beading on your forehead. The dizziness is stronger than ever, and you’re having a tough time trying to keep yourself upright. Your image of the register ahead of you grows distorted, the shapes and colors swimming in and out of focus. You're so distracted by trying to blink the after images out of your eyes that you end up bumping into someone hard. The breath gets knocked out of you in a shocked wheeze. Did you run into a fucking wall?! Oh my god, it feels like you can barely breath as you start to fall back. Quickly, hands reach out to stabilize you, keeping you upright by your shoulders, unintentionally bringing you closer.

You get a nose full of something minty and green; fresh and sweet and oddly soothing the mild headache beating away at your temples. Unconsciously, you take in a bigger breath of that peculiar cologne, masculine for sure but still…different than what you normally come across.

“Woah–! Are you alright?” A concerned voice asks, and you find yourself honestly shaking your head when nausea flares within your gut. The person—a man, you think if you're going by voice alone—sucks in a startled breath before slowly exhaling.

“Sorry…” You force yourself to speak; it was your fault you couldn’t fucking see in front of you. You’re still blinking the spots out of your eyes even now, struggling to see anything when your head feels so heavy.

“Don’t worry about that. Here—let’s get you seated. Is there anything I can do to help? Maybe call someone for you? Do you need to go to the hospital?” He gently leads you away from the counter, keeping his voice level and calm as he talks you through his movements. You shake your head a little, whimpering when a sharp spike of pain stabs behind your eyelids. Obviously a bad idea when your symptoms are flaring up again, but you aren’t thinking clearly now. The man makes a sympathetic noise, lightly rubbing your arms through your hoodie as he helps you sit.

“What about some water, or maybe something light to eat?” 

Just the thought of food right now makes your stomach roll uncomfortably, and you shake your head again. You blame the fever beginning to cook the inside of your brain for your next words; there’s no reason you’d ask a stranger that otherwise.

“N-no thank you. Just…stay with me, please?” The sound of your voice is pathetic to your own ears, and an ugly feeling begins to build inside of you. God, why are you so fucking useless? Can’t even handle the consequences of your own actions without dragging this random ass stranger into it. Absolutely pathetic.

He pauses for a moment, obviously taken aback. But he seems to recover quickly, and after a moment of shuffling, you can physically feel him squat in front of you. His knees brush against your legs and his hands drop to your balled fists.

“Yeah, of course. Take as long as you need.” His voice is soft as he speaks to you, his hands gently coaxing your fingers to fall from their curled state. It’s…nice, feeling the callouses on his hands. You’re surprisingly alright with him touching you like this; a sweet kind of casualness that sends a wave of warmth through you. It knocks a breath loose from your lungs, and you can feel his eyes stray to your face when the noise falls out. Embarrassed, you keep your eyes firmly shut. If you were any stronger you’re certain you would have knocked his hands away by now. But you aren’t, and for some reason his touch doesn’t feel like oil slicking across your skin; doesn’t make you feel unclean. You allow his fingers to hold yours, the quiet murmur of the cafe filling the empty space between you two for a few moments.

Then, he begins to talk.

Small things, like how the trees look outside on the side of the street. How good this cafe's cherry danishes are, but how he doesn't get a chance to eat them often because he always gets here too late to snatch 'em before they run out. How his students sometimes sneak him a pastry or two when they're trying to butter him up enough to go easy on them on an upcoming test. Mundane and casual little stories that do a lot to soothe your headache. There's something so familiar in his tone, like you've heard it somewhere before but you just can't put your finger on where.

It bugs you enough that you want to look at his face. Maybe if you see what he looks like, you'll be able to place him. Swallowing back your embarrassment at being so casual with a stranger, you psyche yourself up. Inhaling and exhaling, you slowly squint open your eyes. Blinking a few times, a tear or two escapes down the corners of your eyes as you adjust to the bright light filtering into the cafe. It takes a moment or two until you can force your eyes to work, but eventually your gaze lands onto the man crouched in front of you.

Shaggy brown hair that shines slightly underneath the light tapers into a mullet that curls around his neck. Thin silver frames slide low on the bridge of his nose, covering eyes the color of violets. Black gauges pierce his ears, his shoulders broad and covered by a long-sleeved sweater. His lips are pulled into a warm smile, sweet and achingly familiar. In your mind’s eye that same smile flashes past, missing a front tooth and on a boy instead of the man in front of you. You almost can't believe what you're seeing—can barely comprehend that this man is...he's...

“...Caleb?”

The crack that separates those wonderful syllables fills your eyes with tears. You can’t believe, after all this time, he’s right here in front of you. You’re struck dumb; frozen in your seat as you stare at him through your quickly blurring vision.

“Fancy seeing you here, pipsqueak.” His smile widens, or you think it does as you try and see past the tears. You feel the pointy end of his chin nearly touch your knee as he scoots a little closer, squeezing your fingers tightly. You sniffle, the tears coming down faster as you grip his fingers just as tight. The chuckle he lets out is music to your ears. None of this feels real at all. Are you hallucinating?

“H-how—” You cough a little, the words stuck in your throat as you feel yourself begin to grow upset. Your emotions are completely out of whack, and you’re dangerously close to breaking down into loud sobs. Caleb immediately shushes you with a quiet tone, disentangling one of his hands to wipe your tears away. He sits up on both of his knees, cradling your cheek in one palm while the other gently holds your hand.

“Hey, hey it’s alright. Just breathe with me, okay?” 

It’s like you’ve turned back time and you’re suddenly back to age nine. Instead of sitting in a coffee shop in downtown Skyhaven, you’re now back to that sandbox outside of the orphanage. Your knees ache from scrapes, and you’re positively bawling as you lie sprawled on the ground. Caleb is rushing over within seconds, calming you down with his words as he gathers you up in his arms. Just as he took care of you then does he do the same now. The memories fade and your sobs die down into small hiccups, your tears drying up enough that you can get a clear look at him.

He’s everything and nothing like you pictured all at once.

You scan him up and down almost frantically, taking him in like you’ll never get the chance to see him again if you don’t. The boy you grew up with is there, hidden within the playful light in his eyes; the mischievous little quirk of his lip familiar in a way that fills you with a warm kind of joy. But there’s also something about him now that’s different. It puzzles you, this odd feeling around him. Your eyes flick around his expression, trying to gauge what he’s thinking when you accidentally make direct eye contact. A jolt runs through you, sparks flying and a quiet understanding filling your head.

Oh.

Oh.

‘Dom. He’s a..Dom.’

You knew that—you were there when he got his test results! This isn't new information to you, yet you still are absolutely shell-shocked by the force of his presence. The Doms you've encountered never affected you like this before. They've never been this strong to your senses.

“Better?” There's a lowness to his voice that catches you off guard, his eyes piercing you with an intensity that makes you feel naked. Like he's peeling back all your layers with just a look alone. You feel seen in a way that terrifies and excites you in unpredictable turns.

Your heart skips a beat, a flood of heat spreading down from your head to your toes when his eyes rove over you, something almost…wanting in his gaze. That sweet smile of his gains teeth, and with a choked breath, you realize that your entire body is positively vibrating with the need to touch him. To have him touch you. You're flushed from head to toe, you have to be with how hot your skin feels. Dazed, you can barely hear what Caleb says to you, eyes drawn to the shape of his mouth, the sharp bit of canine that peaks out whenever he smiles big enough. The small dimple on the left side of his face, and how it changes with the angle of his moving mouth.

With a start, you realize that he's not talking anymore, eyes dark and intense as they watch you. The longer he stares, the dimmer his smile gets until it’s nothing more than a concerned frown. There’s a little wrinkle in between his brows and you have the sudden urge to smooth it out with your thumb. You know why the atmosphere isn’t as easy as before; there's no mistaking the cause of your weakened state. 

Suppressant sickness is well known amongst the Dom/Sub community. Warnings blare left and right about how bad things could get for someone who takes them for too long, and since Caleb is a Dom, then it wouldn’t take very long for him to understand what’s going on. No ignoring it either, judging by the stubborn set to his jaw.

“How long?”

You want to play dumb, are seriously considering it as you glance away because you really don’t think you can have this conversation right now, but his palm holding your cheek tilts your head. Your eyes lock once again and you find yourself folding like wet tissue paper. 

“...I think it’s been almost a month since my symptoms have gotten bad. Over two since the suppressants stopped working.” You quietly speak, forced to keep eye contact as he takes your words in. The hurt that enters his expression instantly makes you feel like the shittiest person alive. But you don’t know what you can possibly say here. Not when you could risk losing him all over again.

“...Do you not have a Dom, or someone who can help you with this? If sex isn’t your thing, then there are plenty of services that can accommodate you. I can even give you a card of the one I’m using.”

You tellingly press your lips together, trying to swallow the irrational flare of anger and jealousy at the thought of Caleb with another Sub. Not really the time to focus on that, not when he’s looking at you with a frantic light in his eyes. How are you supposed to explain to him that he’s the only ever Dom you’ve wanted? That nothing else will work for you unless it’s his commands you’re obeying? Sighing, you shake your head.

“Mhm, no, I don’t. I think…I think I’m too difficult to work with the services they offer. Nothing’s ever panned out.” Obviously, you have to hedge around the real reason as to why you’re suffering now. You can’t possibly tell him that you nearly had a legitimate panic attack when someone tried to help you earlier. 

“Difficult? What about you is difficult?” He looks offended on your behalf, and while it feels as if your chest is being torn open, you can’t help but laugh at his disgruntled expression. It’s sweet that he’s getting so worked up over this, but it also makes a painful soft of hope bloom within the hole behind your ribcage that you can’t entertain.

“I can’t really do…casual flings. I need to actually know someone deeply before I’m even comfortable enough to Play. And, well. That kind of thing is difficult to accommodate for the services they offer.” He looks at you, really looks at you, and you can see the realization set in. The fact that you really aren’t going to get better, that you don't have anyone to help you do so. It breaks your already broken heart even more as you watch his desperation get even stronger.

“It’s alright, Caleb. I’ve already accepted that…that this is the e—”

“Don’t talk like that. Just don’t. There has to be something I can do for you.” 

You shake your head again, but that only seems to make him more determined.

“Look, you’ve tried all the services around here, right? Well, the one I’m using is actually based out of Linkon. It’s a little farther from here, but it works. We can get you into there, find someone for you to get to know. If you’re at least open to meeting others, there’s a chance for you to pull through.”

“No, Caleb, I don’t want to go to another service. That's also not how my emotions work, I can’t just open up to a complete stranger. You know that a Dom\Sub relationship is based on trust, and I can’t recreate that at the drop of a hat.”

“So, what, you’re just telling me to give up? To accept the fact that you’re wasting away because your dynamic isn’t satisfied, because you can’t trust anybody?” You quake on the inside at the look in his eyes, the heat in his tone that’s a devastating mix of anger and desperation. It kills you to make him sound like that, but you know what would happen if you tried. Can vividly remember the feeling of wrongness that still wakes you up in the middle of a night, bathed in a cold sweat.

“I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is for me. I don’t have the time left to try old fashioned dating. There’s no one,” your voice breaks halfway through your sentence, but you forge ahead, regardless of the lies you’re telling him, “no one out there for me, not like I am. There’s no one out there who wants me, not the way I need.”

The pained look on his face gets even deeper, if possible.

“You can’t seriously think that.”

“I don’t think it, I know it.” ‘Because I don’t want anyone but you, and there’s no way you’d ever think of me the way I want you to.’

“...I finally found you, after all this time, and now you’re telling me I have to lose you again? That all I can do is watch as you disappear from my life?” Your lip trembles at the emotion leaking through the cracks of his composure. The hand on your cheek grips you firmly, the one curled around your fingers going tight. 

“Caleb…”

“Well I refuse. Just because you’ve given up doesn’t mean I have to.”

“I already told you that there’s no one else, Caleb. You can’t keep harping on this when I already know—”

“What if it’s me.”

You stare at him, your jaw dropped and eyes wide. A firm, resolute glint sparks to life in his eyes and your lower belly flutters at what that look could possibly mean.

“What?”

“What if I act as your Dom?”

He doesn’t even give you a moment to respond.

“You trust me, right? It’s been more than a few years since we’ve last seen each other, and we’ve both gone through some changes. But, you know me just as I know you. This isn't the most...conventional way to go about this situation, but we don’t have much of a choice. I am not allowing you to give up on yourself, not when I can finally be in your life again. Haven’t you missed me, too?”

Something in your gut curdles and you grow cold. 'We don’t have much of a choice.' Does...does he not want this too? Is he only worried for you for purely platonic reasons? Dom/Sub relationships don't have to be inherently romantic, but you don't want that kind of relationship with Caleb. Selfish and stupid of you to dwell on semantics, especially when you're actively getting sicker, but you're adamant on this. You need this thing between you to be exclusive, to be more than just pure platonic affection. You won't settle for anything less than his undivided attention, and if you can't possibly get that...then you don't want anything with him at all. You'd rather die.

“Of course I missed you.” You force yourself to speak past the lump in your throat, implored by the wide, almost begging expression on his face. “But, it’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

You want to throw up our hands in exasperation. You really, really, really are trying not to spill your guts right now, not when you’ll only end up feeling worse after you hear an outright rejection. But he’s so persistent, he’s not letting you get away with being vague. So, fuck it. Might as well rip off the bandaid since he can’t seem to let this go.

“I need…Caleb, I need to be in love with my Dom, and vice versa. I can’t Play with someone unless we’re in a romantic relationship.” 

That cold feeling sinks deeper, spreading throughout your body as you watch his eyes grow wide. He swallows audibly, taking in a breath, but no words come out of his parted mouth as he stares at you. And suddenly, you’re angry. You’re angry that you even have to do this—that you have to break yourself all over again because of your dynamic. You have half a mind to rip yourself away from him, but you figure if you never see him again after this, you might as well try to memorize the exact feeling of his callouses, the exact warmth that emanates from his hands.

“I know…I know that you don’t feel the same, and I’m not going to allow both of us to get hurt because you can’t accept reality. Don't feel so obligated to help me out just because we happened to see each other again. I don’t need your pity, nor do I want to hurt myself by doing something we’ll both regret.” 

His hand momentarily drops from your cheek to hang by his side uselessly. You’re both sitting in a tense quiet, staring at each other as the ambient noise from the cafe filters in. Caleb's face goes flat and unreadable, a drastic change that has you reeling. You want to cry at that look, but it's what you wanted, right? If you can’t have him the way you want, then you won’t have him at all…right?

Your breath hitches when his face changes. The frantic light slowly dies out, replaced by something like relief. The tense line to his shoulders soften, a quiet breath leaving him as he eyes close briefly. They open again and meet yours, the intensity startling you. He grabs both of your hands, bringing them up to his face. Slowly, without breaking eye contact, he raises them to his lips. He places a kiss on each one of your knuckles, soft and measured. There's a definitive purpose to his movements, and every second that passes turns your brain into mush.

“Who says we’ll regret it?”

“What?”

“Who says we’ll regret it? Didn’t you say that you need to be in love with the Dom you choose?” He flicks his eyes down for a moment. “It sounds like we’d enjoy ourselves a lot if we decided to Play together.”

‘What?’ You can’t even force yourself to speak, eyes drawn to the delicate fan of his lashes as they brush against his cheeks. He’s nothing but calm and assured as he continues to place gentle kisses along your skin, moving down to the tips of your fingers back up to your knuckles.

“B-but…you’re not…” You can barely push the words out as you watch him, shivers rolling down the length of your spine as the heat from his fingers seeps past your skin. 

“I’m not what?” There’s a dark sort of amusement in his tone as he places more kisses against the backs of your hands, glancing up at you with a knowing glint in his eyes. You swallow and look away from that searching stare. Nothing about any of this situation feels real. You can barely wrap your head around everything when your mind is split in so many different directions.

“Are you trying to say that you’re…that you love me…?”

Nothing to you at this moment feels real.

“Yeah, pips. I’m in love with you, and I have been for a long time.” He lets out a loud breath, chuckling when all you can do is let out an even louder squeak. Your hands begin to shake within his hold, but he easily steadies you, the smile on his face so fragile that it feels like it could break at any second. Honestly, it perfectly describes you now too. 

“And now, I can finally take care of you like I always wanted.”

“You aren’t just saying that to try and help me, right? You wouldn’t lie to me like that, right?!” You hate that doubt still lingers within you, that your voice breaks yet again from the force of your emotions, but you just don’t know anymore. You just can’t believe all of your suffering is coming to an end. He doesn’t seem phased by your loud words, the smile on his face growing into something more self indulgent. He uses the grip he has on one of your hands and brings it to his chest. 

You can feel how hard his heart is pounding beneath your flattened palm. It perfectly matches the rhythm of your own heart, something you notice because Caleb has his fingers on your own pulse. Like he’s searching for the match too.

 “I would never lie about something like this. Can’t you feel that? Can’t you tell how you make me feel?”

You nod, entranced by the heat searing you through his clothes. You’re captivated by the look in his eyes, and that’s when it begins to sink in. Slowly, you understand that this isn’t just a ploy. This isn’t some elaborate joke or dream. This is real, everything he’s saying to you is real.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go. The quicker we can satisfy your needs, the better you’ll feel.” Your face promptly bursts into flames, and the arousal you’d been trying to ignore in the chaos of the entire situation slams into you with great force. The visuals that flash before your eyes have your thighs rubbing against each other, something he obviously notices judging by the way his entire demeanor changes.

“Wait! Y-you haven’t asked me properly yet! I’m not your official Sub until you do.” You rush out, high-pitched and squeaky. You instinctively jut out your chin, trying to hide your embarrassment. ‘Properly yet’. As if you haven’t spent the last decade dreaming of this day; like your precious gege hasn’t been on your mind all these years. Like you haven’t been his this entire time. And of course he sees through you easily, laughing loud enough that you flinch a little, glancing around to see if you’ve gained any attention. You haven’t, of course, and you look back at him when he tugs on your hands a little.

“Sorry, sorry. Let me do this properly, then.” He grins, but there’s an edge to it that makes you grow hot. He gently yanks you forward and you scoot across the seat until your faces are mere inches apart. Caleb is now in between your parted legs, your noses almost touching. There are faint freckles dusting the bridge of his nose, a small detail that distracts you a little.

“Would you grant me the honor of officially becoming my Sub?” 

Your heart thumps painfully against your ribcage, entire body frozen on the spot as his words echo inside your mind. Though he says it in a teasing, playful way, the look in his eyes is deadly serious. 

“You’re serious.” You whisper, swallowing when he hums.

“Of course I am. It’s always been you, pipsqueak, even when we were kids. Can’t you tell just how compatible we are? How perfect we are for each other?” The callouses on his thumb catch along the back of your hands, and it just reminds you all over again that Caleb is the only Dom that makes you feel safe. 

 He’s completely right. 

While the fever still burns beneath your skin, your headache and body aches are gone. Your mind is a lot clearer, and nothing but relief fills you as you slowly start to come back together again. And all you’ve done so far is talk. He’s touched you, yes. But not intending to Play. They’ve all been casual, acceptable touches when in a public setting. It makes you wonder what it would be like if you really took it further. 

If you both were to…Play.

“You mean, you actually want me?” You hate the insecurity that shakes your tone, especially after revealing that you both love each other. But you have to be absolutely sure that this isn’t some kind of fever dream. That your gege is actually here and more than willing to pair up; to be your only Dom.

“Always. I’ve always wanted you. Felt like a part of me was stolen the day they took you from my side. There’s always been this…hole in my chest that I never managed to fill, no matter what I tried to do.” His voice is quiet as he speaks, eyes going half lidded and far away. Your lip trembles as he echoes the same feelings you had, and everything finally clicks into place. The shards of your broken heart come together again, and it’s all because of Caleb. Your shaky hands come up and cup his cheeks, your breathing getting heavier when more of his body heat warms you.

The action immediately snaps his attention back to you, eyes a little wide. This is the first time you’ve initiated touch, and it makes you feel powerful when you see how dilated his eyes grow, this close to him. The ring of violet nearly gets swallowed up by the darkness of his pupil. The flush against his cheeks is faint, spreading across his nose all the way to his ears. He's breathing a little heavier than before too, subtle but noticeable now that you're all up in his space. 

“Me too. I never wanted to leave you like that. I had no idea they were separating us…if I’d know I’d—” You cut yourself off, getting emotional all over again just remembering that awful, awful day. His eyes grow soft, wide palms coming up to grip your wrists. He just keeps them there, holding onto you as he leans his forehead against yours.

“Well, I think all that matters now is that we’re here, together.” You nod, brushing your thumbs across the shadows you can see underneath his eyes. It’s not just Subs that deal with withdrawals; that have to tackle their own instincts. Doms have their own set of wants and needs, and you wonder how he’s been holding up all these years. Though the color isn’t as dark as it could be, the exhaustion can still be seen within the lines of his face. You brush against his cheeks again, and his eyes flutter closed as he breathes out a sigh. 

Your heart races and it takes all of the strength you possess not to collapse into a puddle on the ground. You need him; there’s no use in ignoring it any longer, not when that uncontrollable heat is coming back. When all you want to do is switch positions; kneel at his feet and do whatever he asks of you.

“The answer’s yes, by the way.” You clear your throat when your voice comes out hoarse. He blinks his eyes open.

“Yeah? You’re agreeing to be my Sub, now?” 

You let out a small gasp when you hear the possessiveness in his tone, the bold claim he's making over your relationship. He drops one of his hands to your leg, resting the tips of his fingers along your knee. The heat coming off of him seeps through your tights and into your skin, the feeling traveling towards the building knot forming in your lower belly. 

“Y-yeah. We should probably talk before getting into…Playtime.” Your breath hitches when his eyes drop to your lips. 

“Talk. Yeah.” He stares at you for another moment before pulling himself away, getting to his feet with a quiet groan. It’s a conscious effort to keep the pathetic sound locked behind your teeth as you feel his heat leave you. Your face must do something, though, because he playfully squishes your nose in between his fingers.

“Don’t look so gloomy, pips. We’re leaving here together, aren’t we?” He offers his hand to you, easily helping you to your feet with a half-smile. You roll your eyes and smack his arm for the teasing, but the effect is ruined by the matching grin on your own face.

“I guess so.” You grumble, giggling when he wraps an arm around your waist and squeezes.

“...This alright?” It takes you a minute to understand what he’s asking. He squeezes your waist again and the back of your neck burns hot. Right.

“Yeah that’s…perfect.” You take full advantage and lean further into his hold, sighing when you get another whiff of his cologne. He snags your bag from the chair edge, sliding it over his shoulder. 

“Ready?” He asks, and what else can you do but nod?

“You’re oddly quiet.”

You blink and turn your head from the window to face Caleb. He’s got his eyes focused on the road ahead, one arm resting along the edge of the window, his other hand low on the steering wheel. The sight of him there, sitting in the driver's seat looking so effortlessly attractive has your entire body growing warm. You clear your throat and recross your legs, squirming when his eyes flick over to you.

“You think so?” Is all you can come up with, the thoughts in your head crumbling to dust when he shoots you a raised eyebrow. You just…it’s taking you a while to fully get that he’s here now. You’ve been thinking about seeing him for the longest time…actually being able to be fulfilled like this is still difficult for you to grasp. You’ve been so in your head about it all that there truly isn’t anything else on your mind except him. And all of the things you’ll be doing once you get to his apartment.

It’s taking all of your self control not to just jump on him right then and there. There’s a reason why you’re keeping to yourself in the passenger seat, gripping onto your bag like it’s a lifeline. Your symptoms are still lurking within your body, still fluctuating randomly enough that you feel it’s safer to keep your mouth shut rather than risk exposing yourself so early on.

You guys haven’t even talked about the parameters to what kind of Play you’ll be doing—something that makes your entire face feel on fire.

“I remember you being quite the chatterbox when we were younger. You’re telling me there’s nothing you wanna yap to me about? Nothing at all?” There’s a knowing smile on his face, eyes switching back to the road when the light turns green. You bite your lip, lowering your eyes to track the flex of his fingers as he turns the wheel. 

“Mhm, well…”

“Yeah?”

“What do you…like.”

“What do I like?”

“Mhm.”

“Let’s see…well, if we’re talking about food, those cherry danishes from Nova are always good. They’ve also got this chocolate croissant that’s a little overpriced in my opinion, but it goes really well with their coffee—”

“Caleb!”

“Pips!” 

You snort when he responds back in the same tone, the wheels of the car squealing softly when he stops at another red light. His joking mood breaks your tension a bit, and you find that your shoulders lose their rigidness as you lean back against the seat. He laughs when he peeks over at your face, and you reach over to smack a hand against his shoulder when you hear it. Before you can fully retract your hand, he smoothly snags it in his, lacing your fingers and propping up an elbow against the divider.

“You know that wasn’t what I meant.” You scold, a little breathless when he presses his lips against the back of your hand. 

“It wasn’t? Well, how was I supposed to know that! You weren’t very specific with your question.” He keeps your hands interlocked as the light turns again, using his other hand to steer as he puts his foot on the gas. You huff, but tellingly don’t say anything as you look at your hands. A fuzzy, bubbly kind of joy builds within your chest; an impulsive thought filling your head as he focuses back on the road.

Biting your lip, you decide to take a chance and lean closer to the center console. Your eyes drop to his hands when they give yours another squeeze, and you admire them for a moment—the prominent veins, the long and thick digits of his fingers, the wide and calloused surface of his palm—before you flick your eyes back up. He’s still watching the road, that amused smile lighting up the pretty color of his eyes.

Quickly, you lean down and plant a quick kiss on his hand. Caleb doesn’t look away from the road, but you can feel how tight he squeezes your hand afterwards. The tips of his ears get the slightest bit pink, and you can see the smile grow wide enough to show a bit of his teeth.

“You’re adorable.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” 

You ignore him as you begin to play with his fingers, tracing along the lines on his palm.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

“You haven’t given me a proper one to answer.”

You groan and pinch the skin of his palm, smirking when he winces slightly.

“Stop that already, don’t make me say it…”

“All I’m askin’ for is a little clarification, pips. C’mon, ask me properly.” Your eyes go wide when the command hits you square in the chest. It’s not very strong, more of a gentle nudge than anything, but it still settles over you like a well-worn blanket. Instantly, you melt back into your seat, shivers trailing down your spine as your mouth opens and you blurt out your response.

“What do you like in terms of Play?” Caleb rewards you by placing a kiss on the back of your hand, and even though he’s already done it before, it still makes you feel accomplished. All any Sub wants to do is please their Dom, and for the first time in your life, you feel as if you’ve done it.

“Good girl.”

The noise you make is embarrassing, but Caleb kindly doesn’t comment. Instead, he makes one last turn and pulls into a parking garage. You glance around, noting how nice the area he lives in is. Much nicer than yours and a whole forty-five minutes away in Linkon City.

“I’m pretty open to most forms of Play.” He picks up after pulling into a reserved spot, putting the car in park. You nod, your free hand fisting the ends of your sweater when he turns his head to face you. The lights from a nearby streetlight glint off the lenses of his glasses, and you momentarily can’t get a good look at his eyes.

“But if I had to choose what I like the most, I’d guess it’d have to be…spoiling my Sub endlessly.” 

You freeze.

“I want to overwhelm them. Make them go so crazy from pleasure that all they can think of is me. I want them to focus on me and me alone. I want to be the most important person in the world for them, every single time.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned off the car at some point during his little speech, but you don’t pay any mind to that. Absently, you unbuckle your own seatbelt, but after you just kind of…sit there as his words bounce around in your head. How could you do anything else when it feels as if all of your fantasies are coming to life?

You knew that’d he’d be able to take care of you, but to be this…perfect for you? It’s almost scary how compatible you two are.

“S’a bit much, right?” You blink when you realize that he seems a little nervous. What does he have to be nervous about?

“What do you mean?”

“My desires. I know they can be a bit…intense.”

“...Why do you say that?” Your voice comes out a little strangled, and you can’t tell if what you’re feeling is protective anger or jealousy or both. It’s hard to think past the blood rushing through your ears as his words make the knot in your belly grow tighter.

“I told you about that agency, right? Well, there’s these forms you’ve got to fill out to be matched, and for the longest time I hadn’t gotten any matches. It’s all ‘cuz my particular needs are a bit much for a platonic Play session. Especially one that doesn’t turn sexual.’’ 

The anger slips away, but the jealousy still blazes hot within your chest. You kind of hate that he’s been with other Subs, but you’re also glad that he doesn’t seem to suffer what you did. It’s a confusing mess to try and wade through, but you set that can of worms aside for later. 

“Well it’s a good thing I’m here.”

He shifts to face you fully, a cautious smile on his face as his eyes are revealed to you.

“Yeah? You think you can handle all of that?”

You pout when he seems skeptical, grabbing onto his hand and bringing it to your face. ‘I’ll just show him.’ If Caleb has any doubts about your willingness to be here, you’ve got to put them to rest right now. There’s no other place you want to be than right here in this car, the hole inside of your chest slowly mending; filled by your Dom, your gege. You untangle your fingers and instead maneuver his hand so that it rests along your jaw. His hand immediately holds your face, fingers splaying along your neck while his thumb settles below your bottom lip. 

“I seem to remember someone saying earlier that we’re super compatible; y’know, the perfect match.’’

He snorts, the caution receding from his smile as he leans closer to you. The breath ‘whooshes’ out you when you see how big he is compared to you. He looms a little, shoulders broad behind the sturdy fabric of his sweater.

“Oh yeah? And what exactly is perfect about us?”

You playfully look at him from underneath your lashes, dropping your mouth to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb. The purple of his eyes are quickly swallowed by his pupils, a heavy flush spreading across his cheeks and nose. He sucks in a shaky breath, the line of his smile softening at the edges as he lightly brushes against your lips. The moan you let out is quiet, but it still rings like a gunshot inside of the car.

“We’re really just two sides of the same coin, aren’t we? Because everything you said sounds like you were made especially for me, gege.”

The sound he makes when you drop the honorific sends a sharp wave of heat down to your core, mouth dropping open and eyelids drooping when he slides his hand down to grip your throat. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s firm when he holds you still. His forehead drops down to meet yours, noses touching as he stares down at you. Heat swims within his darkened gaze, mouth parted as heavy pants fall from his lips.  

“I can take anything you throw at me, I promise I want it all. You’ll never be too much for me, gege.”

He makes another weak noise, raising his head so that he can press his lips to your forehead.

“You’re tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you, pipsqueak.” He laughs, but it’s strained. You giggle, breathless and delighted that you can fluster him so much, though your laugh gets cut short when his grip goes tight. Not tight enough to stop your airflow, but tight enough to remind you who’s in charge.

“Naughty girl, trying to rile me up like that.” 

“Consider it payback.” Your eyes roll a little when he jerks you up, your hands scrambling to raise yourself in your seat a little. You can tell he’s still holding back, the way he handles you gently despite the atmosphere.

“Payback? I don’t remember doin’ anything to deserve that.” He breathes into your mouth, your lips just barely touching. His gaze is locked onto yours, black with lust. 

“You’ve been teasing me ever since we got into the car and you know it.”

He laughs, small and derisive. Goosebumps raise along your skin when his eyes drop to your lips.

“I’m the one who’s been teasing you?” It’s more of a mutter than anything, something that sounds like it wasn’t for you. So you ignore his words, your eyes following suit and glancing down at his mouth. You whine a little and lean forward; at least, you try to lean forward. But you don’t move an inch, Caleb keeping a tight hold around your throat.

“Ah, ah, ah. Use your words.”

Your body freezes as the command falls over you, your mind growing fuzzy around the edges as whimpers fall from your open mouth.

“Gege…please…wanna a kiss.” 

He hums, rubbing the tips of your noses together.

“There we go. If you want something you’ve gotta ask me for it, okay?”

“Mhm…”

He smiles, the edges sharp as he leans in closer.

“Good girl.” He murmurs before pressing his lips to yours.

Fireworks go off behind your eyes. You moan into the kiss, leaning into his hold when he pulls you even closer. Your arms are starting to ache a little at the stretch they’re positioned in, and your skin chafes from rubbing against the center console, but you don’t care. The feel of his chapped lips against yours steals your breath and attention away. You feel his tongue lightly swipe over your bottom lip, and you instinctively open your mouth wider. When he slips his tongue inside, you swear that you feel yourself come a little. 

You two part and come back together; spit drying sticky and cool along the corner of your chin as he plunges back into your mouth. You’re moaning uncontrollably now, leaning as much as you can into his hold. You don’t know how long you two spent in that position, but by the time you do part for the final time, your arms ache from the strain.

You’re a little shaky as you stare up at him, eyes wide and a little wet from unshed tears. He looks down at you, eyes flashing as he slides his hand up to cup your chin. You blink, mouth parted as you try to catch your breath, closing your eyes a little when he rubs his thumb against your cheek.

“Was that alright?” He’s quiet as he asks, serious in a way that sends butterflies to your stomach. You nod, though it’s admittedly a bit sluggish. Your mind is still fuzzy; warm in a way that means you’re halfway there to subspace. Something Caleb senses since he still hasn’t dropped that serious expression.

“You sure?”

“M’good, gege. Promise.”

He looks you over one last time before sighing. 

“Alright, alright. Chin up.” But he’s already raising your chin up for you, using the edge of his sweater sleeve to wipe off the saliva staining your skin. You blink, and the memory of a sixteen year old Caleb flashes through your mind. It makes you laugh, something that catches Caleb’s attention.

“What’s got you so giggly, hm?” 

“You.” 

He shoots you a bemused smile. “Yeah?”

“Remember when you first turned sixteen and we were heading to the clinic? This made me think of when you wiped the ice cream off my face back then.” 

His eyes light up in recognition and his smile grows a little brighter, fond.

“Oh yeah, now I get it. God, you were such a messy eater back then, weren’t you.” His eyes flick down to his wet sweater sleeve. “Still are.” He mutters with a slight smirk, pressing a kiss to your red cheek when you hiss out an embarrassed noise.

“Nothin’ to be embarrassed of, baby. S’cute how messy you are.”

“Shut up, dummy!”

“Oh, I’m a dummy now, huh? What happened to gege?”

“Gege is gege only when he’s nice to me. Dummies like you are mean.” The childishness of your answer makes it hard for you to keep a straight face, but you eventually break when Caleb starts peppering kisses along your face. 

“What’re you doing!” You laugh when his hands come up to cradle your face, keeping you still as he tickles you with his lips.

“My precious little Sub thinks I’m a mean dummy. So I’ve gotta convince her I’m nice so she can call me gege.”

You squeak when his voice lowers in pitch, shivering when his warm lips press near the skin of your mouth. 

“If-if she calls you gege again will you stop tickling her!” You squeal when one of his hands lightly pinch the fat of your cheek.

“I don’t know, I don’t think she really knows how sorry—”

“Oh my god, fine! Gege, you’re gege not a dummy. Now will you let me go—!”

His laugh is loud when you push his face away, hands sliding down your body to land on your waist. A moment later, you’re being lifted up into the air, plopped on the lap of a still chuckling Caleb. He places you so that your legs are pointed towards the door, your head falling into the crook of his neck. 

“Never. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now, pips.” He whispers and you hide a smile in the fabric of his sweater.

“I could say the same to you. You’re never getting rid of me now, gege.”

“I wouldn't want it any other way.”

You cling to him the whole way to his apartment.

It’s instinctual; this need to be pressed against his side, feeling the steady ‘thump’ of his heartbeat through his clothes. You’ve never let anyone close enough in to casually share touch, so you feel a little starved for it now. Greedy for it. It embarrasses you, how intense this desire to stay glued to Caleb’s side is, but also it’s kind of…freeing? Being able to fully embrace the Sub part of you is actually really, really nice.

‘Who would’ve guessed.’ You think a little sardonically, shuffling closer when the hand on your hip steers you out of the elevator and down a long hallway. It doesn’t take very long for him to stop in front of a plain door, and you idly watch as he keys in the passcode. You bite your lip to try and hide your grin when you realize what the code is. Your birthday, of course. The fact that he’s remembered it after all these years…well, it makes you feel just a tiny little special.

“You hungry?” He asks, ushering you in through the door. You hum and squint your eyes in thought, lightly tapping your nails against his arm as you kick off your shoes. You were originally supposed to go to Nova for a light meal, but the thought of eating when the tension still lingers between you two doesn’t appeal to you in the slightest. So you end up shaking your head as you follow him to the kitchen after he takes his own shoes off, hopping up onto the nearest bar stool as he settles himself in front of the fridge. He cracks open the door and ducks to look inside, your eyes tracing over his profile absently.

“No, I think I’m alri—”

Your stomach chooses that exact moment to rumble. Loudly.

You press your lips together in a line when Caleb raises his head to shoot you a look.

“...Wanna run that by me again?”

You pointedly look away from his amused stare, crossing your arms with a huff.

“M’fine, gege, I don’t want anything to eat.”

Rumble. Rumble.

“Shut up.” You angrily hiss, not even allowing Caleb to say anything as you whip back around and wave your finger. He’s still got that amused expression, though there’s something a little contemplative in his gaze. He fully turns around, leaning against the fridge door.

“What, you got something against my cookin’?”

“No! I just…” You struggle to come up with a plausible reason to ignore your hunger, but now that your stomach is grumbling and you really feel how empty your stomach is…it’s hard to really think.

“...what did you have in mind?” You eventually grit out when he raises his eyebrows in that infuriating way; like he knows exactly why you’re struggling, but he’s waiting for you to tell him yourself. Which, you won’t do. It’s embarrassing how much you need him—you can’t possibly say it out loud.

“Well,” he draws out the word with a smirk, walking forward and kicking the fridge door closed. He stops in front of the kitchen island and lays his palms flat on the surface, leaning his entire upper body forward. Somehow, he manages to loom over you, playful and knowing and a nuisance you missed more than you can describe.

“I was gonna make you somethin’ to eat, buuut if you’re a little impatient…” He cocks his head to the side and gestures back towards the fridge. “I can always order something to go. We can shower while the food’s being made, and by the time we’re done it should be here.”

“Smart and efficient. I like it.” You nod, pretending like your entire face isn’t red from his stare. “I want pizza, then, just plain cheese is fine. With an order of wings—plain with two sides of ranch. Ooh, and make sure to get something fizzy too! And if they’ve got something sweet, I want whatever chocolate thing they have.” 

He blinks, smile growing fond as he blows out a breath. Reaching out, he lightly tweaks your nose, snorting when you retaliate by smacking his arm. You pout and raise your eyebrow in question, but he just shakes his head in response. Leaning back, he turns back around and heads for the fridge.

“Anything else, pips?”

“Nope!”

“Mkay, just give me a sec.”

You nod, but he’s already pulling out his phone and grabbing a menu from underneath a magnet of a tiny paper airplane. You watch as he makes the call, but you grow fidgety after a while. You’re itching to go snooping around his apartment, to see what he’s been living like all these years. Quietly, you sneak off the barstool when he has his back turned. A giddy smile curls at your lips as you slip deeper into his home, tip-toeing down a hallway opposite of his line of sight.

You swivel your head as you sneak down the hallway, eyes catching onto the plain walls with a sharp pang. No pictures or art, everything kind of looks…dull. Like he barely even considered this a true home. And though you’d only caught a glimpse of the wider living area, you. can remember that it carries that same energy. Clean and neat, but devoid of warmth; of personality of any kind. You bite your lip and head towards the nearest cracked open door, hoping that maybe this room will feel a bit more lived in.

You gingerly nudge open the crack, wide enough until you’re able to slip inside without much noise. Your eyes flit around the room, cheeks going hot when you realize where you’re at.

The covers on his bed are neatly pressed, a warm brown color that matches his pillow cases. A soft wooly grey throw lies across the bottom half of his bed, the edges dangling over the faded blue of his carpet. The rest of his bedroom is in a similar state of meticulous detail, shelves and dressers covered in various displays of model planes and other figures like it. He's even got a set of glass shelves filled with bigger and more complex models tucked against the far wall. Every single inch of this room screams Caleb, from the strips of wall lights taped to the edges of the room to the corner where his PC is set up—along with a small shelf full of other kinds of console games.

A smile unconsciously pulls at the corners of your mouth, stocked feet sliding along the carpet as you curiously swivel your head around. It’s a bigger room than you honestly expected, and yet again you’re reminded how nice the place he stays at is. There’s even a set of wide glass doors that lead to a balcony outside. Which you discover after peering your head out, of course. There’s not much on the balcony, save for a dusky orange rug and a few scattered plants. You hum, vague ideas popping into your head of converting this little area into a reading spot for yourself.

You’re going through the logistics in your mind as you close the door, distracted enough that you don’t hear the door opening until Caleb’s amused tone snaps you out of your thoughts.

“I see you’ve made yourself at home. Like what ya see, pips?” 

You turn your head to look at Caleb, a flush staining your skin pink. He’s leaning against the frame to his bedroom door, arms crossed and a grin quirking the corners of his mouth up.

“It’s an adequate space. Could use more pictures here and there, but it works.”

“I’m so glad my room passed your inspection. Anywhere else you wanna check out, or would you rather go snooping yourself?”

You roll your eyes with a huff, ignoring the shy embarrassment plain to see on your face—something that causes Caleb’s smile to widen.

“You were busy and I was bored. I might as well see myself around since I’ll be staying here for tonight.” You answer primly, shifting so that you press your back against the cool glass. The light in his eyes stays bright as he laughs, uncrossing his arms and closing the distance between you two easily. Your breathing gets a little heavier when he stops in front of you, tilting your chin up to follow his gaze as he moves to cage you within his arms.

“Only tonight? What if I wanted you to stay for longer?” 

“How long?” 

“Forever.”

You shrug, trying not to crack as he slides his hand along your waist; fingers curling around to hold you.

“Maybe.” You drag out the syllables, breath hitching a little when he leans down to brush his nose against yours. “If you can convince me to.” 

As if you aren’t already his in every sense of the word.

He laughs, quiet and intimate as he drops a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Whatever you want, baby, it’s yours. Anything to keep you here with me now.” 

Your chest grows tight when you hear how serious he is, your arms reaching up to wrap around his neck. There’s a lump stuck in your throat as you embrace him, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. You want to burrow yourself underneath his skin and never leave. This urge of yours is nothing new, but the fact that you’re able to properly show and accept it is. That you feel safe indulging in your instincts.

“Gege…” You whine, leaning in to press your lips against his. He huffs out a breath from his nose, but allows you to continue. Eventually, he takes the lead, tilting your head just right with a soft touch to your jaw. You don’t know how much time you lose, only that by the time he pulls away, you’re completely breathless. You chase him of course, not wanting to let him go even for a second, but he stops you with a strained laugh and warm fingers at your chin.

“Easy, easy. You’re supposed to shower, remember? Better get it in now before the food gets here.” He swipes his thumb against your bottom lip, eyes dark and swimming with an intensity that turns your brain to mush. You lean into the blazing warmth of his hands, eyes falling to half mast when you get another whiff of his cologne. 

“But I don’t wanna let you go.” You pout, shooting him an irritated look when his smile deepens the lines around his eyes. The fondness and amusement plain on his face makes your belly squirm, and it takes everything inside of you to not shy away combined with his affectionate touches. 

“It’ll just be for a little bit. You’ll have gege all to yourself after.” 

That’s still not enough for you. You don’t want to let him go for even a second, just the thought makes you panic on the inside. So you blurt out the only idea that makes sense to you, at that moment.

“So shower with me; that way I don’t have to let you go.”

The smile on his face freezes and you think you see something like panic flash across his eyes before it vanishes completely. It sobers you a bit, and you frown when you see how tight his grin gets. Strained, like he’s forcing himself not to react. Did…did you say something wrong? Were you moving too fast and you scared him? Does…is he not comfortable being with you yet?

“You tellin’ me you can’t go a half hour without seeing me, pips? Promise it won’t be that bad.”

A gentle evasion if you’ve ever heard one. It feels a little too much like rejection to sit well with you, and you feel ridiculously hurt because of it. Painful barbs stab the inside of your chest and your brain immediately hisses at you that you’ve gone and fucked up somehow. That small, insecure part of yourself that has been trying to make you doubt everything grows louder, and you want to do nothing more than to fall to your knees and beg for forgiveness. You didn’t mean to make your Dom upset, you just wanted to keep touching him; to keep being near him. You recoil, trying to back away from Caleb as apologies frantically fall from your trembling lips.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—sorry, I’m sorry…”

Caleb’s eyes grow surprised and he firmly keeps a hold on you, gently gripping your sides to keep you from accidentally toppling over. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, ducking his head to try and make eye contact with you. But you keep your head down, a coldness spreading from your shoulders down to your stomach as you tremble from shivers. Between one blink and the next, you’re wrapped up fully within his arms. The ice coating your insides begins to thaw as he tucks your face into the junction of his neck and shoulder.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’m not upset with you, it’s okay.” He assures you, rubbing your back with his wide palms. The heat from his skin chases away the chill of your bones, but you still feel shaky and unsure. 

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel uncomfortable, gege, I’m sorry.” 

He blows out a quiet breath and squeezes you tighter, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. You hear faint shuffling noises as he moves you both back, and he eventually settles you both on his bed. You’re straddling his lap, your fingers tangled within the straps on his sweater; his hands cupping your cheeks softly. He stares at you, regretful and concerned and so, so soft. A few tears leak out despite your best efforts, and he brushes them away with his thumbs.

The affection leaves you breathless all over again, your hurt slowly beginning to disappear the longer he touches you. A punched out little sound leaves you as you lean into his hold, more tears falling down your flushed face. Your weak voice babbles out apology after apology, but he only quietly shushes you, resting his forehead against yours.

“M’sorry…”

“No, it’s okay. Promise it’s got nothing to do with you, baby, it’s all on me. Y’see…”

Something complicated flits across his expression, and through your teary eyes you can see that it’s directed at himself rather than you. This anxiety he has.

“…Gege?”

“You remember my DAA apprenticeship, right?” 

You nod. During his college years he was aiming to be a pilot at the association, a dream you wholeheartedly supported. Caleb loved planes and the feeling of flying, and you adored whatever put that specific little grin on his face when you were younger. 

“Well, I served in the force for some years after I graduated. Long enough for me to take on stealth missions by myself. There was an accident one night and…” He trails off, the fingers of his right hand twitching as his eyes go glassy and a little unfocused. Like he’s reminiscing. 

You keep quiet, a fissure of unease pooling in your chest the longer he stays lost in his mind, but with only the slightest shift of your body does he eventually come back to you. The light returns to his eyes, though there’s a distinctive little curl to his mouth that sets off alarm bells inside your mind. He almost looks…ashamed. 

“I’ve got some…scars because of it. Pretty nasty ones, actually.”

You frown. He doesn’t…he doesn’t think the sight of that will change anything for you, does he? You continue to watch him, waiting for more of an explanation before jumping to conclusions again.

“They get really bad on my right arm. Had to receive all sorts of surgeries and therapy after the accident. None of it left my skin lookin’ good.”

“You think I won’t be able to stomach your scars?”

He shoots you a look at the petulance in your tone, but you don’t back down at all. Does he seriously think you’d be so shallow as to reject him for something he had no control over?

“I’m telling you, they're really not easy to look at—“

“I’m not a little kid anymore, I’m not gonna run screaming at the sight of some scars!”

“How would you know? You don’t even know what they look like.”

“Because I’m an adult who can accept things like that. Like it’s any kind of hardship; so what if your arm is a little damaged, why would I be scared of something like that?”

He sighs. “Pipsqueak…” 

You won’t let him try and talk you out of this, not when his only hesitancy is your reaction and not the fact that he doesn’t want to shower with you yet. Or, you at least think that’s the reason. There’s only one way to know for sure.

“Caleb.”

He snaps his mouth shut at your tone, the light in his eyes bright and focused. Good, you’re glad he’s listening to you now. 

“Do you want to shower with me?”

You interrupt him before he can speak, already seeing the lie on his face as he opens his mouth. You know he’s just being thoughtful, prioritizing your feelings over his, but you don’t need that right now. This is about his feelings, not yours.

“And don’t give me that bullshit about making me uncomfortable because of your scars. This is about you right now and what you want. Because if it's too much for you then I’ll drop it and we can have our privacy. But, if you’re only saying no because you think I can't handle it then I need you to not. I’m in love with you; scars included. Nothing’s ever gonna drive me away—not after I’ve been dreaming of you this entire time.”

He looks at you, really looks at you. From the stubborn jut of your chin to the determined glint in your eyes despite the tears to the tight grip you have on his sweater. Every single inch of you is trained onto him as you wait for his answer. You’re so focused that you see the exact moment his walls crumble and he gives in, blowing out a gusty sigh and closing his eyes.

That pained, exasperated look of his lasts for a beat before he visibly relaxes. His eyes open and a wry grin tugs at his mouth as he leans forward. He drops his forehead against yours, hands falling down to grip your waist.

“You sure this is what you want, pips? It’s alright if…” he trails off when you lean against him, your fingers coming up to pull at his cheek with an angry frown.

“I told you it’s not about me this time. Gege, what do you want?”

He chuckles, helpless.

“You. I always, always want you. In whatever way you’ll have me.”

Your body flushes with heat, and you positively beam when he starts to press his lips against your skin.

“Then let’s get clean. We don’t have too much time before the food gets here after all.” 

The shower spray is glaringly loud in the otherwise quiet bathroom. Its heavy spray echoes within your ears, drowning out the sound of your heartbeat as Caleb stands before you; golden skin naked and gleaming. Any other time, you’re sure your eyes would be drawn someplace else, but all you can pay attention to is his arm. He was right when he said the scars weren’t pretty. 

They’re deep and painful looking; obviously healed, but prominent enough that your attention immediately draws to them. They almost look like burns, but the depth hints at something else being the cause. However he got them, it’s clear that they’re deeply traumatizing. Throat tight with emotion, you slowly glide your fingers along the rounded curve of his bicep.

They go from the end of his wrist to all the way up to his shoulder, partially crawling across his skin to end at his clavicle. There’s a neat line cutting across his wrist where his scars begin, like something had been blocking his hand from the worst of it. You bite your lip, wanting to ask how but unwilling to risk dredging up those memories. Not when it took so much to get him to admit to wanting this.

“…Doin’ alright there?” He has to lean down in order for you to hear him, his breath brushing against the curve of your ear. You swallow when his naked and wet skin gets closer to your face, the edges of your nails accidentally catching on the bumps and edges of his scars. He barely flinches when you do, but you still wince once you realize what you’ve done.

“I feel like I should be asking you that, dummy. I…didn’t hurt you, did I?” You tentatively stop moving your hand, shooting him a questioning look from underneath your lashes. He flashes you a grin, a dark kind of amusement lighting up violet eyes.

“The nerves in my arm were damaged after the crash, so I don't really feel much in this arm. It depends on the day, really, whether or not the day will be a good one or bad.”

“…” You kind of want to cry at his nonchalant tone. Nerve damage? Just what in the hell was he doing at the DAA to get into such a serious accident?

“Well, what about today then? Is this a good day?”

“Yeah, pips. Today is a good day; I can actually feel your hand. The weight of it, the slight callouses you have on your fingers, even the warmth of your palm. S’a little muted, but it’s there.” 

You spread out your fingers, dragging your hand down his shoulder until you stop at his wrist. The tips of your fingers lightly flutter along that painfully stark line, eyes cataloguing his expressions. He further relaxes, the smile on his face easy and pleased. A far cry from his earlier hesitation. Warmth blooms within your chest, a giddy energy filling you. You can admit, you’re stupidly happy being the cause of that expression. The fact that you still have the power to make him feel better after all these years is a fulfilling one. One you didn’t realize you missed until now.

“And you?” 

“Hm?”

He raises a brow and it takes you a moment to realize what he means. You roll your eyes and give him the dullest look possible. Caleb outright laughs at your expression, raising his fingers up to pinch at the fat of your cheek.

“Don’t give me that, pips. Can’t be mad that I’m checkin’ in on you.”

You huff, but behind his playful smile is something serious so you dutifully answer. Even if your voice is full of attitude.

“Yes, Caleb, I’m fine.”

“Great!” 

You pinch the thin skin of his wrist in between your fingers, but all he does is shoot you a grin.

“Are you ready to wash up now?” You nod, pretending like your entire face isn’t growing red as he reaches behind you to grab a loofa. 

Time passes slow and thick, like honey, the shower spray a steady and soothing rhythm as the scent of his soap fills the humid air. You grow a little dizzy within the bubble you two share, breaths erratic as the intimacy of your situation sets in. This is the closest you’ve been to any man, not just Caleb, in your entire life. You can’t help but want to stare at every piece of him you can, even if the thought makes you feel wrong footed and a little awkward.

Your eyes stray to him every time you hear him shift beneath the water, trailing over every bare curve of muscle you can see. You’re sure he does the same to you as you both wash yourselves, backs half turned as you carefully move around each other. There’s a specific kind of awareness you have of his body as he looms in front of you, and you can’t decide what’s driving you crazier; your need to peek or your need to shy away. Every accidental bump of wet skin sends sharp tingles throughout your body, those little points of contact underneath your skin setting you ablaze. By the time the water stops and you’re wrapped in a fluffy towel, your entire mind is filled with nothing but thick and soft cotton.

You don’t even react when Caleb gently loosens your towel, sliding one of his t-shirts and a pair of drawstring sleep pants to cover you. The only reaction you do give is to bury yourself closer to his neck when he picks you up, carrying you by your thighs past the doorway of his bedroom. You don’t pay much attention to the world around you, sounds just barely registering outside the calm pound of Caleb’s heartbeat. So when his chest vibrates, lips moving out the corner of your eye, you don’t quite catch what he says. Humming distractedly, you hook your elbows around the nape of his neck, nails catching at the collar of his shirt when he goes to set you down somewhere.

You wordlessly protest, squeezing your body tighter to his when he tries again. A low, helpless laugh echoes in your ears as Caleb pats the soft cloth covering your thighs. 

“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you.”

You grunt, stubbornly keeping your hold despite his attempts, half hearted as they are.

“I’ve gotta grab the food, baby, the delivery guy’s at the door.”

It takes a few more moments of gentle coaxing, but you do eventually let go. Incredibly annoyed, you only hiss out a disgruntled sound when he presses a quick kiss to your forehead. Scowling at his back, you watch from your place on the couch as he walks to the door, jumping when a few polite knocks come from that darkly stained wood.

While he grabs the pizza and wings, you busy yourself with figuring out how his tv works. Might as well try and dispel the fog over your mind. You try to ignore the slight shake to your hands as you fumble with the little remote. That state before…you were almost fully immersed in subspace. Toeing that line between you and your baser Sub instincts—a state only achieved when the Sub in question feels completely at ease with a Dom.

It’s not too surprising when you think about it logically, but actually feeling that kinda thing is still a lot. Not a bad feeling, but an intense one for sure. Actually, you’re kinda missing it; being pressed against Caleb while your mind grows fuzzy and soft. But you’re still annoyed that he just left you on the couch by yourself—never mind the fact that it’d be incredibly awkward if he carried you to the door—so when he eventually comes back to the living room, you pointedly ignore his presence and continue browsing through his tv. 

He doesn’t seem to notice as he splays out your meal onto the small table in front of the couch, quickly and efficiently making up two plates. He hands you one with a smile, the glint in his eye growing brighter when you take it without a single glance or word. Caleb lets the quiet settle around you two as he takes his place on the couch, which instantly makes you suspicious. You try not to squint over at him though, unwilling to break the bubble surrounding you two once again. So you try and find something to watch, settling on a random superhero movie when the quiet persists long enough for you to get antsy. You can feel him watching you, the amusement radiating off him in waves. The opening scene plays after a few moments of buffering and you shuffle into more of a comfortable position, balancing your plate in your hands.

As if waiting for his que, Caleb takes that moment to speak.

“Still mad at me?”

Only the quiet tap tap tap of the rain answers his question as it beats down outside. You glance to the side, peeking out the windows. The sky is glowing a dusky blue-green, clouds casting a dark tint as more rain pours down.

“Pipsqueak?”

You don’t answer, dropping your eyes down and to stare at your full plate. Two slices of pizza, one of the cups of ranch and five wings; all flats and blessedly plain. Exactly what you asked him to get, though you chalk up the all flats to his memory. You’ve always been particular about your food, and it seems like it’s yet another part of you that he remembers vividly.

“…Baby?”

You finally twitch at the sound of that pet name, but dutifully swing your eyes up to the tv. The intensity to his stare is getting worse by the second, and it’s taking all of your strength not to cave in and look over. 

“[✦].”

Your breath comes out loud and shaky, the first crack in your composure. It’s always been nicknames with Caleb, even back when you were kids. So to hear your name in that stupidly annoying sexy voice of his kind of ruins you a little. And when he repeats it again, you can do nothing else but break even further.

“What?” You still don’t look at him, but the hoarseness of your voice gives you away. You hear him shift a bit, the sound of his clothes rubbing against the fabric of the couch. 

“Look at me.” 

The command hits you square in the chest, and you squeak out a breath as your eyes widen. Again, the power of his words is weak, more of a suggestion than a harsh command. It’s clear that he’s testing how you respond to him, feeling out the boundaries you two still haven’t discussed yet, but you don’t mind it like this. Prefer it, even. Words are difficult at times; you find it hard to verbalize what you want, the embarrassment clogging up your throat until you can’t possibly speak. 

You jerk your head to the side, eyes flicking over the picture he makes as the light from the tv casts him half in shadow. Sprawled out in the corner he has his legs comfortably spread, right arm on the back of the couch, his left resting on the armrest. His plate is balanced near left arm, carrying three slices, no ranch and all of the drums of the wings. Your chest grows a little warm when you see that, skin flushing hot when your eyes meet his. They’re dark, sharp as they watch your reactions. Slowly, he smiles, playfully patting his thigh as he tilts his head.

“Come, sit.”

A violent shiver rolls down your spine, mouth falling open as you breath out a shaky sigh. A little more power leaks out from his words, not a full command but getting closer to one. Foreign yet so so addictive, a part of you yearns to hear a real command from his voice. Just the thoughts leaves you a pathetic mess, and it’s hard for your eyes to focus when blood rushes through your ears. You stare at each other for a beat, something electric filling the air as tension settles in between you two. You swallow, the need to move tugging at your limbs as you let his command anchor deeply beneath your ribcage. 

You’re moving before you even realize it, your butt settling in between his legs within the span of a few seconds. He adjusts after you sit so that his chest presses against your back, his legs and other arm coming around to cage you within his hold. The breath you’ve been holding suddenly whooshes out of you with a loud sound, and your body relaxes into his warmth.

“That’s better, now isn’t it.” He says, the smug satisfaction in his voice simultaneously annoying you and making your belly go warm. He's so annoying you wish you could shut him up. Aggressively. With your mouth. Which, you technically can now, considering. But you think he’d take way too much enjoyment out of that, so, no. You’ll just sit here in his lap, surrounded by the scent of his soap and the burning warmth of his skin and the comforting beat of his heart.

He doesn’t say much else as you two eat and watch the tv, and when you glance up at him from the corner of your eye, it looks like he grows genuinely interested in the movie. Which is more than you can say for yourself, because when you stare at the screen, all you can do is focus on him. Even as you eat, there’s nothing else on your mind but how close you two are. How strong his arm is as it wraps around your waist. How soothing his voice gets when he speaks quietly into your ear, cracking jokes and poking fun at the science of the movie. By the time the credits roll, you’ve got no idea what the hell happened the entire time. That and you’ve only eaten about half your plate, something that Caleb doesn’t comment on when he plucks it out of your slack hands.

“Finished?”

You nod, keeping your eyes on your empty hands. 

“Alright, let me just put the food away real quick. Did you want to watch another movie—?” He goes to get up, pausing when you let out a whine and curl your knees up into his lap. Like you’re trying to hold him down so that he doesn’t leave you. You’d be more embarrassed if the faint echoes of panic weren’t sparking through you, this instinctive need to make him stay that you can’t fight against. It’s completely irrational, but you can’t help it. You have to keep him close, within your sight otherwise he’ll just disappear on you again and you can’t let that happen you won’t survive it—

“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, pips, I can promise you that.” 

You blink and crane your neck upwards, eyes a little wet at the corners as you focus on his expression. There’s a solemn openness to his eyes as he gazes down at you, his right hand coming up to gently brush against your cheek. Biting your lip, you squeeze your hands together, your unease lightening up after he drops a kiss to your cheek.

“I’ll be right over there—just need to put everything in the fridge first, alright?” He jerks his chin to gesture behind you, where you know the kitchen sits; open and close enough that you’ll be able to see him from the couch. You hesitate a little, your mind sluggish and thick, but you do nod and scoot over. Enough for him to get up and carry your plates to the kitchen. You watch as he dumps the bones on both your plates away, going over to a wooden cabinet to pull out some saran wrap to save your plate for later. 

You glance over to the boxes on the table, and feeling a little bad while also wanting to help finish quicker so he can hold you, you start organizing the table the best you can. Keeping an eye on his movements the whole time, you close the wing and pizza boxes, stacking them on top of one another while arranging the extra napkins and ranch into a pile next to it. Caleb shoots you a thankful smile when he comes back over, lightly squishing your cheek with his palm.

“Thank you, baby. Gege appreciates you helpin’ out like this.” 

The praise makes you light up on the inside, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you eagerly lean into his hand. He huffs out an amused breath, watching you for a moment before pulling away and carrying the take out boxes with him. You feel a little cold once he migrates back to the kitchen, but the warmth from his hand chases away that creeping feeling. You watch as he sets the napkins down on the countertop, opening the dishes and ducking down to slide it in.  He stands back up after a moment, and with one quiet ‘snick’  the door closes. He’s walking back over to you in no time at all, the lights from the kitchen casting his silhouette in a golden light.

“How we feelin’ now. Another movie, or…?”

You don’t know what kind of expression your face is making, not when your brain is going soft and gooey around the edges. But whatever you look like must be answer enough, because you can see how molten his eyes grow. Burning you from the inside out, his stare is enough to cause your heartbeat to practically burst out of your chest.

“No more movies. Can we…go back to your room, gege?” 

You shiver when he leans down and easily gathers you up in his arms, his hands settling underneath your knees and against your shoulders. 

“Yeah…yeah we can.”

He carries you back to his room without any hesitation, and each step he takes sends you deeper and deeper into that inviting space that fills your head. Anticipation builds up within your lower belly, that smoldering fire suddenly roaring into an open flame when you pass the threshold to his room. After this, nothing will be the same for you two. Once you go through this, that’s it. You’ll be forever tied to your gege, exactly how you wished it to be all those summers ago.

He’ll finally be yours.

Forever.

Despite wanting to start right away, there still needs to be some kind of discussion about your respective needs. What’s a hard no and potential triggers, and what you like and want to incorporate into your Play. Normally, there’d be some kind of written contract to help iron out the specifics. Not at all legally binding, but getting out your kinks on paper is easier to remember than verbal agreements. Considering the extenuating circumstances though, it makes sense that for now, simply talking about your Play will have to do. You know this already, but that doesn’t stop you from being impatient when he sits you both on his bed. You end up straddling his lap, face tucked within the crook of his neck, your hands and mouth wandering while Caleb tries to ask you basic questions. He only gets you to stop after he snags your wrists in one large hand, the other lightly gripping your jaw. 

Predictably, you fuss and whine, trying to wriggle out of his hold to continue what you were doing. His verbal warning goes in one ear and out of the other, your brain too focused on the aching want boiling up from the inside. But with one sharp look from his dark eyes, you find that you freeze immediately; entire attention zeroed in on his neutral expression. There’s nothing overtly displeased showing on his face, but you feel its sting regardless, your inner Sub quieting down long enough to actually listen.

“Are you paying attention to me now?” He quietly asks, shaking your face a little when you keep silent.

“Y-yes, gege…”

“Good girl. Do you remember what I asked you?”

You sheepishly shake your head. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he repeats himself.

“Safeword?”

Awkwardly, you shrug.

“Um, I’ve never really given thought to a safe word. I didn’t think I’d ever use one, to be completely honest.”

Caleb stares at you for a beat. You sweat a little underneath his stare. 

“…Right, well, do you know about the stoplight system?”

You nod. This you’re more than familiar with. Any competent Dom/Sub health education class taught the basics of the stoplight system. They also heavily encouraged you to come up with a safe word during classes, but, well. You never really managed to come up with anything during the exercise and shortly after you were adopted, so all thinking of your Sub dynamic was pushed to the very back of your mind. That was the least of your concerns when your entire world was being flipped upside down.

“Alright, we’ll use that for now. Green means good, yellow means slow down and red means stop completely. Understand?” He raises an eyebrow, looking at you until you hurriedly nod. It takes a few seconds for you to puzzle out his continued silence until it hits you.

“Yes, gege, I understand.”

“Good, good. Now, is there anything specific that you don’t like? Your non-negotiable kinks and Play.”

It’s a struggle to try and think it through. Abstractly, you’re aware of what you want. To be praised, to be spoiled, to make your Dom happy in your submissiveness. But specifics? Those are harder to define. You don't really have much experience in that area. While you haven’t been completely ignoring your Sub instincts—your browser history will definitely attest to that—you also don’t really know what makes up a ‘No’ for you. Not when you haven’t really experienced the different forms of Play out there.

Well… maybe one thing.

“…Don’t be mean to me.” Your voice comes out a low mumble, your eyes fixated on the low hanging collar of his shirt. Caleb pauses, clearly thrown for a bit of a loop.

“You think you can tell me a bit more about that? Mean how?”

You bite your lip. Teasing and the shit you give each other is normal; a natural routine you two have picked right back up like you’ve never been apart. Despite how flustered you’ve been, you like it when Caleb is a little mean to you; when he babies you with that sickly sweet condescension that never fails to make you feel small in the best of ways. But, there’s a fine line between a healthy amount of embarrassment and humiliation. You don’t like the feeling of it. Quite frankly, you’ve had enough of feeling like utter garbage because of your biology. You’re most definitely a masochist, but not in that extreme sense that gets off to that kinda stuff.

“Mean as in, humiliation. I don’t…I don’t want to feel bad for what I want. I want…I want to be spoiled by you—to be taken apart and put back together again. I want it to hurt a little, sure, but not to the point where it makes me feel ashamed, where I feel guilty for asking for what I want. I don’t know if that makes sense, but...” You eventually stutter out, eyes never straying to his face as your cheeks stain permanently hot from the blood rushing underneath your skin. He lifts your chin, angling your head so that you’ve got no choice but to look him directly in the eye. 

The cool neutrality from before is gone, replaced by a dizzying mix of affection, desire and an overwhelming amount of softness. You let out a pathetic noise when he caresses your heated skin with his thumb. There’s a growing look in his eyes that sends your head spinning, and you become more aware than ever of the position you’re in. How there’s not an inch of space between you two, pressed together so tightly that you can feel everything.

“Yeah, pips, I get what you mean. Don’t worry, I know exactly what you want.” 

“G-good.” You wish you could sound more confident, but you can’t help the way your voice shakes. From nerves or excitement you aren’t entirely sure.

“S’that all of your No’s or are there more you can think of?”

“I’m not as…knowledgeable about that in terms of what I want. I haven’t really experimented outside of what I do like, so, I’m not sure.”

His face grows pensive before smoothening out into something reassuring.

“I’ll be careful, then. Stick to the Play you know you like. We’ll have plenty of time to experiment in the future, anyway. Our first session doesn’t have to be so…thorough..” He grins, and you jump a little when he drops your hands and instead grips your left thigh—squeezing the plush fat with a bright smile. One edged with a familiar sickly sweetness that makes your belly swoop in excitement. The warmth that seeps through the thin material of his sleep pants makes you flush, the heat spreading across your face bright and obvious. 

“I’ve got a bit of an idea of what you want, but is there anything specific you want me to do? Anything specific you really like?” There’s this tone to his voice as he speaks to you, this intoxicating mix of playful teasing and rough edged knowing that instantly has you squirming on his lap. You aren’t surprised he’s got an idea of what you want. While not explicitly stating your kinks, it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what gets you going. But he’s still making you say it out loud, and though you know it’s important to at least verbally confirm it all, you can’t help but feel a little disgruntled. Caleb is taking way too much enjoyment out of forcing you to say what you want.

“…You’re so unfair sometimes, gege.” You whisper, pouting when he snorts and leans in to press your foreheads together. You kind of hate that he really does seem to understand what you meant. This kind of embarrassment is welcome. Because he’s not trying to make you feel bad for what you want, if anything, he seems to get off on what you have to say. Enjoys how small and restless you get underneath his knowing stare.

“How am I being unfair? It’s important we keep communication as open and concise as possible. So that we don’t accidentally hurt each other, you know?”

You glare at his stupid smug and handsome face, ignoring the excited twitches of your cunt as he trails the hand on your thigh up and up and up. Until it lands at your waist, fingers curling into the soft cotton of the t-shirt you’re wearing. His t-shirt.

“C’mon, just tell me what you like, yeah? It’s just me here, pips. There’s no need to get so worked up, you know gege’ll take care of you, no matter what you need.”

His hand feels heavier as it anchors to your side, the heat from his palm eating through the thinness of the fabric. You swallow, mouth opening and closing until you squeeze your eyes shut and groan. A beat passes and you open your eyes again, blowing out a breath when the hand on your chin migrates down to the other side of your waist. The angry little frown on your face is more for show, your flushed cheeks and hazy eyes giving your arousal away as you speak.

“Overstimulation is…nice. So is praise. I wanna hear how good I’m being for you.” You begin, shy in the face of his gaze, the intensity making you self conscious. He smiles a little, fingers gently kneading at the plushness of your waist.

“Mhm, anything else?”

“Kisses. Kisses are super important too. I need to always have some kind of contact with you, you can’t deprive me of your touch at all.”

“Noted.”

“A-and I’d like it if you could…” You flush and avert your eyes from his. “play with my nipples. They’ve always been sensitive and I like it when they’re touched. I liked being choked too. Maybe even spank me a little, my ass and my…pussy.”

You stop, too embarrassed to continue but mercifully, Caleb moves on.

“Got it.” His voice grows a few pitches deeper and it makes your fingers twitch against his chest, nails catching in the fabric of his shirt.

“I’d like to try a few different positions too; whatever you think will overwhelm me the most. I want…I want you to smother me, a little. Wanna be crushed underneath you. The weight and pressure will make me fall deeper into that headspace. Want you to make a mess of me, gege. Make me go a little stupid.” You blurt out in a single breath, mortified yet oh so satisfied when you see a pink flush spread across Caleb’s nose and ears. His eyes have gone half lidded, darting from your mouth to your wide open gaze. The smile from earlier is now a little less defined around the edges, lax in a way that reveals his distracted mind.

He clears his throat after a beat, the sound rough and loud in the calm quiet of his bedroom.

“I’ve got you, baby. I’ll make sure we get to everything you just told me about.”

“And what about you?”

“Me?”

“What are your likes, your dislikes, your safeword? It’s not just about me, dummy.” You lightly poke his chest with a small pout, trying to ignore how red your face must be. He hums.

“Well, my safeword is cilantro—“ he gives you an unimpressed look when you giggle, but the slight twitch of his lips gives away his good humor. “—and while I don’t have too many dislikes that we’re in danger of encountering tonight, what is most important to me is that you don’t hide yourself away from me at all, even if you think it might hurt my feelings. Whether you really enjoy what I’m doing or if you don’t at all, I need you to be honest. I don’t want to do anything to hurt you, baby, and in order for me to do that I need you to be able to communicate with me. Always.” 

You nod slowly, wanting to question the pain in his eyes but dutifully keeping your comments to yourself. There’s an unspoken story there, maybe some kind of previous bad experience with Play. It makes your blood boil that someone could’ve hurt him like that—sometimes Subs forget that Doms can have drops too—but you deliberately file that piece of information away for later. Now isn’t the time for questions like that.

“I understand, gege. I promise I’ll be honest, no matter what.” 

His hands squeeze your waist again, and a thought occurs to you.

“Is touching your arm okay? Are you even comfortable taking off your shirt? You don’t have to get fully naked to, you know…”

He blinks, a little surprised by your question. You feel awkward for asking, but it’s important you’re both comfortable during this. 

“…Yeah, it’s alright. I don’t mind.” 

The smile he gives you is warm, and you return the grin, feeling light and happy.

“As for likes…” 

You gasp when he plants kisses down the side of your face, leading down to your rapid beating pulse.

“Everything you described sounds just perfect to me.” His teeth scrape against the delicate skin of your neck and you let out a moan when he digs in deep enough to leave a mark.

“T-then there’s nothing else to discuss…right?” Breathy and eager, you tilt your head to the side to give him more room. Your hands absently knead at his plush chest, your hips subtly rocking down against the thick bulge forming underneath your ass. 

“Hm, you remember the stoplight system?”

“Green means good, yellow is slow down and red,” you whimper when his hands slide down to toy with the end of your shirt, just barely grazing the skin of your belly. “Red means stop, no exceptions.”

Caleb stays quiet for a few moments, leaning back to shoot you a look. 

“You want this, then?” Casual on the surface, there’s an underlying note of seriousness that softens your exasperation. You get why he’s asking, and you really do appreciate him for that, but you’re more than eager to begin. Have thought about this for so long that nothing will change your mind about choosing Caleb. 

“Yes, gege, I want this. I want you.” You lean up and plant your own kiss near the corner of his lip, eyes wide and begging as you grind down hard against his lap. He breathes out a groan, a bit of a smile on his face as he leans down and wraps you up in his arms. Tucking his face back into your neck, he draws you deeper into his embrace.

“Whatever you want, pips. Whatever you want.”

Cool air brushes against your bare skin, goosebumps raising along the flesh of your arms and legs. You shiver, caught between hiding behind your arms and basking in the hungry gaze roving all over you. It’s all a bit…overwhelming to have that laser-hot focus on you when you’re at your most vulnerable, and your eyes flit to everything but Caleb as you lie there. Propped up against his pillows, your entire body is on display, the dim, yellow lights from his room casting you in a warm glow.

“Can I touch you?”

You jump a little when his voice breaks the silence, instinctively jerking your head around to look at him. He’s just in his underwear now, the soft grey cotton bulging obscenely. There’s a little wet patch forming at the crotch, warmth rushing to your already hot face as you rush to meet his eyes instead. He’s holding perfectly still, his gaze dark behind his eyelids, shadows playing along his face as the lights dim and brighten in slow turns. It’s almost hypnotic, and you nearly forget his question when you idly trace over the length of his jaw. It’s only when he clears his throat softly that you remember.

You cough, ignoring the smug curl of his lips.

“Yeah, you can.”

Your thighs rub against each other as you shift a little, breath stuttering when he leans over and crawls closer. With all that skin on display, the strong and stark planes of muscle flexing as he moves, your fingers get the sudden urge to touch him. You need to, actually. Need to feel the warmth of his skin against your own. To feel the rapid beat of his heart directly. To feel just how much he wants you in this moment, as if you couldn’t already tell by the way he watches you now.

Time moves both too slow and too fast, blood rushing through your ears as he gets closer. His fingers skim along the length of your legs, dragging up and up and up until they land on your thighs. Your breath hitches when he carefully nudges both legs open, settling in between your thighs with a soft groan. All the while he never breaks eye contact, knees nudging up underneath the backs of your thighs until you’re half sitting on him, legs spread wide and half wrapped around his waist.

The air lies charged between you as his hands slide back down to your legs, almost reverently. His eyes follow the path his hands make, the callouses creating a friction that sends heat straight to your lower belly. You twitch a little at the feeling, your legs following when his fingers wrap around one of your ankles. The sheer size difference hits you directly in the chest, your hips jerking forward enough to brush against his stupidly big dick. Your eyes blow open in surprise when you feel how hot it is through the thinness of his briefs. It’s only natural that you buck against him again, head falling back a little when he just barely grazes the sticky and wet nub of your clit.

You feel him press a kiss against the bone of your ankle before he puts a stop to your messy grinding, playfully tutting at you when you make a noise of protest. 

“I told you, baby, you gotta open up your mouth and ask for what you want.” You tilt your head forward to glare at him, your embarrassed expression vanishing when he leans down. You catch another whiff of his soap as he bends over you, the hand on your ankle pushing up while the other settles low on your stomach. The position has your leg bending at the knee, stretching back to open you up even further. His fingers wrap around the fleshy bit of your thigh as his hand stops underneath the bend of your knee. You feel the subtle discomfort of your muscles being stretched, but that slight pain fades away when you feel him just barely brush against your cunt. You struggle to move your hips forward, groaning when the palm on your belly stops you, easily holding you down.

He merely raises a brow at your frustrated whine, a slight smile on his face as he watches you squirm. Your hand reaches up to smack his chest repeatedly, the look on his face growing even more amused as he keeps you pinned. Quicker than you would’ve liked, you grow tired; breaths rapidly falling from your parted lips as you glare up at him, palm flat against his chest. Sweat beads along your hairline as he rubs a thumb against the back of your thigh, the sweet smile on his face a stark contrast to the position he has you in.

You flush even more somehow, fog curling at the edges of your mind when his smile widens enough for the sharp edge of his canine to show.

“You know, this could all end if you just..ask for what you want.”

That fog grows thicker, your expression going soft as his commands ring loudly in your ear. Still not at full strength, but the tone is assertive enough to settle deep within your chest. Enough to loosen the knot of embarrassment burning through you.

“Touch me, please touch me.” 

“But I’m already touching you, aren’t I?” His soft voice coos to you, the pads of his fingers rubbing against your skin. You shake your head, whining as you buck your hips forward again. You don’t move an inch, and the desperation inside of you grows. That knot slowly unraveling as want begins to whisper to you through the fog.

“Gege—!”

He hums, eyes curving into crescents when your lower lip wobbles. Infuriatingly, he stays silent; that annoying smile on his face as he keeps you underneath him. You feel so exposed, one leg in the air, the sticky-wetness of your slick staining your hot skin. The hand you have laying limp on the bed beside you weakly curls around his wrist, tugging it down so that the hand on your belly moves. Predictably, that goes nowhere, scoring you that same condescending look. The embarrassment of it engulfs you, heat spreading down to your cunt so fast that it leaves you dizzy.

Your body finally just gives up when it’s clear you won’t be moving him unless you speak; the corner of your eyes going tight when another flash of heat makes your pussy clench. It’s driving you crazy how badly this is affecting you, a fever spreading through your body as the fog sweetens the burn into something addictive. You feel almost…high, the knot in your chest untying until all you feel is free.

“T-touch me lower, gege…please-“ Your words break off into a sharp gasp when he slides his hand down your belly to the fat swell of your pussy. He doesn’t move further, however, idly playing with the hair covering you. Squealing, you smack your palm against his chest, eyes filled with betrayal as you look at him.

“No, why’d you stop…!”

“But I did exactly as you asked, baby. I went lower didn’t I?”

“Not low enough.”

The faux sympathy on his face sends shivers down your spin, tears beading on the corners of your eyes as he leans just the slightest bit forward. Your thigh goes back some, the softness of your belly squishing as your hips lift a little off his thighs. You twitch as the position exposes you more, your hole clenching down on nothing when the heat from his hand sinks beneath your skin. You want to feel him inside of you so bad it makes you feel insane.

“Oh, that wasn’t what you wanted? Sorry, sorry; gege’s just a bit confused, s’all. Won’t you help me, then? Show me where you want me to touch?”

The weak grip you have on his wrist tightens, your shaky hand tugging at him until he slowly follows your guidance. His fingertips drag heavy and insistent as he brushes past your clit. Gathering up your slick, he traces against your sticky folds, his smile replaced by an intense look. Like he’s memorizing the feel of you as his fingertips glide down the seam of your cunt, until you stop him at your twitching hole.

“Here, gege. I w-want your fingers here.” 

The faint flush on his face grows deeper, reaching the tips of his ears and nose. His mouth drops open, a groan falling past his lips as one of his fingers gently circles your hole.

“Yeah? Want gege to fuck you with his fingers?” He murmurs, dark eyes darting from your face to your twitching cunt. You nod so fast that blood rushes to your head, making you squeeze your eyes shut from the sudden lightheaded feeling you get. The sound of his mocking chuckle causes your eyes to blink open, your attention drawn up to his face. He’s looking back at you now, that little curl to the corner of his mouth that he does when he thinks you’ve done something cute. It’s the same look he used to give you when you were kids, and its familiarity makes the thickening fog of your mind grow in strength. 

“Say it.”

“Yes, yes! Gege, please fuck me with your fingers.” You hardly recognize the tone of your voice, the sound high pitched and airy, but there wasn’t any hesitation on your part to follow his command. It was easy for your body to simply obey, the haze over your mind warm and pleasant to fall into. Caleb hums, muttering an affectionate ‘good girl’ before he leans down to press his lips against yours. He traces over your fluttering hole once more before slowly inserting his finger. Keeping eyes on your face the whole time, he backs up slightly to wait for your reaction. Your breaths come out in fast pants the deeper he goes, your gazes locked with each other when the tip of his second finger teasingly brushes against you. 

“Ngh—more, gege, please? I can take more—“ You yelp when the pad of his thumb swipes over your throbbing clit, the fan of his own elevated breathing tickling your face.

“You think you can take two so early?” He idly questions, as if his single finger isn’t making that telling ‘squelch’ noise every time he pumps it in and out. Past the point of getting mad at his teasing, you only nod.

“Mhm, I want ‘em so bad, gege. Wanna feel you in me, please.”

His breath puffs against your skin as he dips his head forward, nose against nose. Another swipe to your clit, another few loose pumps from his one finger, another eternity getting lost inside the swirling darkness of his eyes and then next thing you know, two fingers are inside of you and they’re moving fast. Over and over and over do they hit that one spot inside of you, mercilessly pushing you towards that brink incredibly quick. The speed in which you begin to careen into your orgasm shocks you; so badly that your hands come up to his shoulders, digging into his skin as you writhe within his hold.

Your voice grows in volume, tears obscuring your vision as sparks of intense sensation skitter along your spine. Your cunt flutters uselessly around his moving digits, hips bucking up into every swipe against your clit. All the while Caleb watches you, rapt expression on his face as he begins to break you apart. The feeling of his eyes only heightens the sensations for you, back arching when he shifts and you can feel that monster that he’s got in between his legs. You haven’t seen it yet, but you just know that if you tried you wouldn’t be able to fit it all in your mouth. Just the thought of choking on his dick sends your mind spiraling, fingers scrambling to get a hold on his shoulders when you grow even tighter. 

You can feel it then, how close you are to finishing on his fingers. It sneaks up on you, that familiar clench on your lower belly, that familiar heat pulsing from in between your thighs. You tremble in his hold, plaintive cries falling from your lips as your head tilts back. Thoughts can barely form in your mind then, words wasting on the tip of your tongue as you’re forced to take it. You think you should probably try and piece together a way to tell Caleb, but that doesn’t appear necessary when he’s watching you so closely.

“You close, baby? Close to comin’ on gege’s fingers?” The thumb occasionally flicking over your clit now rubs it, fast enough for you to let out a squeal as lighting shoots through you. It’s intense, that direct stimulation. Sends your entire body directly into orbit when he keeps up both sensations, your pinned limbs writhing uncontrollably. You don’t have any thoughts outside of that feeling, eyes rolling into the back of your head when Caleb ducks down to seal his mouth over your right tit. He switches from holding your leg up to cupping your tit in his palm, kneading the soft skin as he gently sucks on your hardened nipple. The hot slickness of his mouth makes your fingers drag across his shoulder, your now free leg dangling in the air and twitching. It all becomes too much for you—his fingers, his mouth, the molten heat that he sends running through you with every move he makes. The rubber band inside of you snaps and you come on his fingers with a loud cry, toes in the air curling as it all hits you at once.

Tears run down the curve of your cheeks as you finish, your slick gushing out and around his hand in thick spurts. You whimper when Caleb’s muffled groan reverberates through your chest, eyes rolling when he continues to thrust inside of you. Gentle as anything, but the movements of his hand doesn’t stop, even as prickles of overstimulation peck away at your raw nerves. You whimper and twitch, but you don’t try to stop him from moving, blinking away the tears from your eyes as your breath unevenly. Caleb draws his mouth away from your nipple, planting messy kisses up and up until he reaches the side of your throat. Without even waiting for him to ask, you title your head to the side to open your neck up more. 

“You did so well for gege. Sounded so cute crying on my fingers like that.” He murmurs into your skin, teeth following the playful bite of his words as they scrape against your rapid pulse. You shiver, aftershocks sparking behind your eyes as your fingers absently knead at his skin. Opening your mouth, you go to reply—with what you still can’t say—but all that comes out is a punched out little sound. Because now there’s a third finger bullying into your cunt, stretching out your sensitive nerves wider. 

“Think you can show me again?” 

You don’t even get to answer before he thrusts inside of you, immediately zeroing in on that little spongy part of you. Arching as much as you can when he has you pinned like this, you let out broken little ‘ah, ah, ah’s as his fingers piston in and out of your clenching pussy, nails digging scratches into his shoulders. He hardly even stops when you come again, eyes squeezing shut when he brushes his thumb over your clit. This has to be the fastest you’ve ever finished before, and it leaves you with a dizzy kind of feeling swirling your thoughts round and round.

“Again?” He breathes, and you blearily open your eyes to peer at him. You stare at him, confused for a few beats, the gears inside your head whirring. Patiently he waits, gently swiping over the twitching nub of your clit. You blink, and it dawns on you what he’s expecting. Swallowing a few times to wet your suddenly dry mouth, you glance at him from underneath your lashes. 

“Please?” You pull him closer, leveraging yourself so that you’re slightly hanging from his shoulders. You’re close enough to press kisses along his jaw and cheek, licking at the sweaty sheen covering his skin. You don’t want him to stop, not when this is everything you've ever needed.       

He groans, turning his face so that your lips meet his in a searing kiss. You moan, opening your mouth wider when he leans further into you. The fingers inside you suddenly move, pulling out and spreading your hole roughly. You squeal when he times it with harsh rubs to your clit. Your fingers tingle in the long strands of his hair, eyes rolling to the back of your head when his tongue licks over your teeth. 

Spit stains your lips and chin when you both part for air, chest heaving with breathless gasps as Caleb leans away. You’re too dazed to whine at him to come back, fingers uselessly dropping to his shoulders when he leans back a bit farther. The look he gives you is dark and wild, hungry in a way that makes you clench around the stretch of his fingers. You let out a startled yelp when he slides his fingers out after one last rub to your clit, flipping you over to rest on your stomach. Your palms catch your upper body before you can fall flat on your face, heartbeat racing even faster when he slides a hand to rest on your lower belly. You barely even get the chance to react let alone respond to his not-question before his fingers bully their way inside of you again, the hand on your stomach pressing down as he fucks you with his fingers.    

“Ah, gege—!” You nearly faceplant onto the pillows, eyes crossing as he brings you to that peak again. Rapidly, he thrusts in and out of you, putting enough pressure on your belly for you to feel it when the tips of his fingers reach that spongy spot inside of you. Your arms shake as they struggle to keep you upright, these pathetic, whiny little moans falling from your panting mouth. You think you’d feel self conscious about your volume if you had the brainpower for it, but as you are now, it’s hard to muster up anything in the face of his constant barrage of thrusts. Sooner than you would’ve expected, you’re reaching that end again. The feeling of it burns through you, that same band tightening and tightening the longer he toys with you like this. 

‘Squelch, squelch, squelch.’  The loud sounds of your pussy makes you whine, clenching down on his fingers when his lips trail across the back of your shoulder. 

“You like this? Like taking my fingers this deep?”

”Yes—!” You choke on a breath when he drags the edges of his teeth against the nape of your neck, twisting his fingers in a way that makes you see stars.

”Mhm, I can tell. She’s singin’ to me so sweet right now, isn’t that right?” He punctuates his statement with another flick of his wrist, and your vision whites out when you come again for the fourth time—brought over the edge when he plasters himself to your back. His weight crushes you slightly, and your elbows weaken enough for you to fall closer to the pillows. You shake uncontrollably, sparks arcing inside of your veins as liquid gushes around his knuckles. The laugh that blows across your skin makes goosebumps raise along your spine, and it's here that you realize that you’re in for a long, long night. 

Over and over, you’re brought to the end on his fingers, his tongue—everything but his cock. No matter how much you beg he doesn’t give it to you, not yet. 

“Patience.” He chides, eyes half lidded and dark as he makes you come again on his fingers. He has you anyway he can get you with just his hands and mouth alone, and you two toss and turn on the bed so much that every single inch is covered in fluids. He takes you from behind, one hand around your throat, lips pressed to your ear spitting absolute filth as he bullies the puffy red nub of your clit. He takes you again on your back, knees pressed to your chest by his hands on your thighs as he licks into your pussy. He even has you sit on his face, eyes wild and a little crazed as he orders you to hold onto his headboard and watch. You’re forced to look at his face as he buries himself within the sticky and wet space between your soft thighs, chin digging into your sternum when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, four fingers easily sliding into your loose hole. That’s the first time he makes you squirt; sitting on his face and half out of your mind. You end up dousing the entire lower half of his face and neck with your fluids, with enough awareness to be the slightest bit mortified by how stained his skin and the sheets gets. But all of that faded to the wayside when that seemed to set him off.

He gives you back to back to back orgasms until by the end, you're lying on your stomach, knees digging into the wet patches of blanket as your body twitches weakly with the aftershocks of yet another orgasm. You have no idea how many have passed, only that your hole feels puffy and hot and that your limbs feel a lot like jelly. Drool slips out the sides of your open mouth, eyes hazy and unfocused from behind your low lids. You’re floating, dancing between the warm and inviting fog filling your head with cotton. You’re making these little noises under your breath, hums and whimpers as your cunt clenches around the digits gently rubbing against your walls.

“Color, baby?” His voice carries only the slightest hints of exertion, words followed by a few heavier than normal breaths as he slips his fingers out from inside of you.

It takes you a moment for you to remember proper human speech.

“…Green.” You croak, too out of it to be embarrassed by the large crack that goes through your voice. Caleb hums, gently rubbing the red skin of your ass as he positions himself behind you. He made good on his promise to do everything you asked, including the spanking. You twitch when the stinging pain travels directly to your cunt, hole clenching down uselessly. You whine, not liking the new emptiness at all. You feel too hollow and too cold, incomplete without Caleb inside of you.

“Not too tired for another round?” 

You shake your head.

“No, gege, I can go again.” You raise yourself on your elbows, and though you feel particularly weak, you crane your head around until you can look up at him. He flicks his eyes over your face for a moment before looking down at your ass. More specifically, he looks down at your cunt, gently circling his hands around your waist before he yanks you back into him. You instinctively grind against the hardness poking at you, mouth falling open when his hands keep you in place. The strength you can feel presses into the soft give of your waist, and the unspoken order to wait has you shivering in anticipation.

Excitement and adrenaline kindle within your stomach, and the fog recedes that gooey, pleasant feeling to something hotter.

“Even if I want to give you this.” Slow and measured he slides your hips back until you’re pressed flushed against his straining dick, idly rubbing your bare cunt against the ruined fabric of his briefs. How he still has them on momentarily confuses you, but that question easily flits away when you realize what he’s implying. Uncontrollably, pulses of heat travel to the core of your low belly, hole clenching down on air as he grinds against you.

“Yes! Gege, please, I’m so ready for you, please let me feel you inside...” A weak moan follows your earnest words, back arching when you feel the tip of his dick brush against your hole. He does it again, and again, and again until nothing but incoherent nonsense falls from your parted mouth. You have no idea what you’re saying, only that desperation builds up within you, red hot need clawing its way through your chest. Every time he teases you reminds you how empty you truly are inside; how pathetic and needy you are to feel his cock stretch you past your limits.

“Yeah, you want me? How bad?” He's coos, half grin forming on his lips as he watches you, like he can’t see or hear your mumbled begging. His hair looks black underneath the lights; damp with moisture, the ends of his shaggy mullet sticking to the back of his neck. Covered in sweat and your dry and wet fluids, he looks composed despite it all. Save for the heavy blush staining his nose and cheeks. You think you’d be angry if you could, but how can you? When he looks at you like that you’ve got no choice but to give into what he wants. 

“Need you so bad gege,” You start, tears beading at the corner of your eyes when he doesn’t stop rolling against you. “Ah, ‘ve been wanting you for forever, please don’t make me wait any longer…! I need you so bad it hurts.” And you don’t mean how for however long you’ve been rolling around his bed. 

You mean ever since you were separated, all those years ago. Ever since you realized what kind of Dom you wanted as a Sub. Though, this goes deeper than even that. If you two never had secondary designations, you know that Caleb is all that you’d want, all you could ever want. Something in you recognizes that Caleb is it for you. You know that deeply; instinctively, even. Your very soul agrees that you’re cut from the same cloth, two halves split down the middle of a whole. It’s even more apparent now, when all of you is laid bare and you’re forcibly confronted with the depth of your feelings.

“Yeah? Need gege to make the hurt go away, huh?” Less a question and more of a muttered statement, Caleb stares down at you, fingers gripping you tighter at whatever he sees. The moment seems to last a lifetime as he peers down at you, the feelings you can see building up behind his eyes increasing the pound of your heart.

“Please…”

“Then present.”

The sheer force of his command knocks the breath out of you, the light going out behind your eyes as you fully sink into subspace. Nothing else goes through your mind except the command of your Dom, and you ignore the weakness of your limbs as you present. You raise your hips higher, arching your back so much that you feel a slight twinge at the base of your spine. You shuffle until your legs are wide and spread, baring your cunt to his hungry gaze. You lower yourself so that you’re lying cheek first on the blanket, uncaring of the damp spot you’re in as you press your chest deeper into the fabric. You still immediately after, waiting on his instructions as white noise fills your ears.

Shuffling noises slip in and out of your ear, your mind quiet in a way that feels peaceful and warm. Safe would be a good word to use now, as you hardly even flinch when you feel the blunt edge of his cock rub along the seam of your pussy. He taps the head to your puffy clit a few times, breaths heavy and loud in the quiet air. You whimper, hips shaking with the effort to stay still. Gege asked you to present so you’ll stay that way until he tells you otherwise. It’s torture not to move, though. The need and desperation builds up within you, fingers clenching the blanket between your knuckles to try and take your mind off it, but nothing helps.

“Doin’ so good for me, baby. Staying riiight where I want you.” Your eyes roll when he drags the tip from your clit back to your hole, a tremble building up along your spine as he just barely sinks in. There’s not much of a burn considering how loose you already are, but the anticipation of feeling all of him makes the slight taste all the more frustrating. You shake and shake and shake, gege repeatedly sinking only the tip in and pulling out, groans and unintelligible mutters going in one ear and out the next. Eventually, you’re rewarded for your patience when he slides into; your eyes growing wide when he doesn’t pull back.

Inch by agonizing inch he sinks into you, your knuckles turning white from the strain of your grip. He fills you so completely, long and thick enough for you to feel in your throat. The tip of his cock bumps into your cervix, the feeling so intense and sudden that you clench down hard on his shaft, mouth falling open into a silent scream. He continues to fill you even after that and an eternity passes before he fully bottoms out. By then you’re a twitching drooling mess, knees barely able to hold you up as his hips touch your ass. 

“Color?” The grit in his voice has you twitching around him, hips jerking in his hold when he hisses out a breath. He smacks a palm to your left asscheek, harsh enough that you feel the hot tingle of the imprint of his hand.

“Color.”

“Greeen—!” Your voice breaks out into a moan when the order hits you, teeth digging into your lower lip when he soothes the sting by rubbing over your skin.

“And you’ll tell me if that changes?”

“Mhm, gege I promise.”

“Good.” 

He starts off slow, getting you used to his size and the sensation. You’re thankful for it, with how big he actually is, his slow pace gives you time to savor being split open like this. This…is your first time ever and you can tell he wants to make it feel good for you. It’s only when you start squirming in his hold does his pace pick up, the gentle little pumps of his hips morphing into heavy smacks against your ass. He bumps into your cervix with every hit, the pace slowly increasing until he’s pounding you into the mattress. The loud clap of skin meeting skin echoes through the air, your combined moans melding in to create a dizzyingly intimate atmosphere.

He’s curled over you, your back pressed tight to his chest as his bicep folds over your neck. His other hand rests on the bed, lips biting marks into your exposed skin as he ruts into you intensely. Your ears are blind to the details of his words, but the heated and emotional layers to the cadence of his voice is enough for you. Gege’s harsh in his pace, the thick and round muscle of his arm cutting off the flow of your breath when he flexes against you. For a few blessed moments you think nothing, drool and tears and snot drying sticky on your cheeks and lips. Your mouth works uselessly, throat trying to intake air except you can’t.

And when he relaxes his muscles, all that air comes back to you. Colors dance across your vision as you grow lightheaded, the euphoria coming not too long after. Over and over and over again, gege breaks you down to your base parts. Over and over and over again he chokes you, breath hot and perfect against your ear as he whispers out little praises you manage to catch.  

Your knees do eventually give out on you, after one particularly mean smack of his dick causes you to falter. The orgasm it knocks out of you shocks you deep into your core because you weren’t expecting it, the sweet bite of overstimulation sending little stings of pleasure through your cunt. You come, harsh enough that all you can do is let out a breathy wheeze, body going limp as your eyes flutter half shut. Once your knees give way so does the rest of your body, laying flat on the bed. Gege follows you down without hesitation, the entirety of his weight now holding you down.

You’re crushed beneath him, legs caught within his; the bulging muscle of his arms caging you further into the bed. Your nose ends up pressed tight to the blanket, your arms stuck underneath your chest as the bicep around your throat squeezes. A pathetic mewl falls from your mouth, eyes crossing when he fucks you just like that; face down in the mattress, body holding you still, forcing you to take him all while he chokes you. Your clit rubs against the blanket, thighs awkwardly spread and toes curling from the wild sensations coursing through you.

You love it.

You’re surrounded by him; his scent, his skin, his voice, his cock. Everything about gege is overwhelming you in the best ways. The cooing praise he gives you, voice sweet and breathy with that sharp edge of authority, of confidence, of that knowing that makes you feel small and precious. The heavy scent of sex and cum and sweat, the slick slide of his skin rubbing against yours. The heavy pulse you can feel throbbing in his dick as he fucks into you, over and over and over again.

But, at the end of the day, you’re both still very, very human. And humans don’t have an endless amount of stamina. It’s still too soon for your tastes, even if your cunt aches something fierce, you don’t think you’ll ever tire of gege like this. Never.

“Color?”

“M’fine—green, gege, I’m green.”

“Yeah? Using you like this ain’t too much for you, pips?” Half serious and half cajoling, you can tell by the strain in his voice that he’s getting there. You clench down on him again, rolling your hips up into his thrusts as best you can.

“I like it when you use me.” You somehow force out through his harsh thrusts, voice breaking out into a wordless shriek when he bodily raises you both into an upright position. Your hands claw at his arm around your neck, frantic cries coming low from your throat when he fucks you like that. The new position feels even deeper, the feeling not at all helped by how his other hand falls to your spread pussy.

“Even if I’m using you like this?” Cruelly, he rubs your clit with two fingers, hips never stopping their pace. You bounce up and down on his lap, tears flowing down your cheeks. Pain and pleasure mix into a dizzying sense, your eyes falling closed as you get lost in it all. But that process is shattered when gege tuts and smacks a hand over your clit. It’s soft, the slap; not as harsh as he treated your ass earlier. But the unexpected sensation of it takes you completely off guard, and you come. At least, it feels like you do. Except nothing comes out, only the intense aftershocks of another orgasm racks your body.

“Did you just—?”

“Gege…!” ‘He got…bigger?!’

“Fuck.” He snaps his hips up, the hand rubbing your clit now wrapping around your waist tightly. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, groans and grunts muffled by your sweaty skin. Each thrust is harder than the last, and the noises being punched out of you sound entirely inhuman. Broken, guttural noises that belong to an animal rather than a person. He was big before, but now…now you feel insane with how wide your hole must be. Just the thought of your used pussy, wet and red and shiny with slick, gaping because of your gege’s cock sends excited tingles to your lower belly.

“Ah, gege—“ It’s too much, it’s too much, it too fucking much you need more.

“I know. I know. I’m almost there, baby, just,” he pulls out and slips you onto your back within the blink of an eye. You get a quick glimpse of his cock right before he slides back into you, and you can admit a part of you is a little disappointed that he chose to put on a condom. The biggest part of you is more focused on his face, the burning heat of his palms as they spread your legs open, the wide stretch of his cock as he drills into you.

Staring up at him, your faraway mind traces over his features. The slight curl of his upper lip as he fucks into you. The sweat trailing down his nose, making his skin appear warm and golden in the lights. The various scratches and marks on his shoulders and upper chest, now darkening with time. Most of all, though, you memorize the contours of his face: the slope of his cupid's bow, the wideness of his puppy-dog eyes, the pretty flush that paints broad strokes over his cheeks and nose. He’s so…pretty to you. Handsome. Gorgeous. Beautiful—all of the adjectives in the world simply can’t do him justice. The emotion welling up behind your ribcage chokes you up, tears welling in your eyes as your hands shakily reach up to cup his cheeks. 

“Gege…” Your mouth has a hard time moving and it takes all your energy to try and speak past the lump forming in your throat. 

“Hm?”

You open and close your mouth, mind drawing a blank as that emotion fills the entirety of you until you’re too overwhelmed to verbally speak. You need him to kiss you right now, press his lips against yours so that you can pour all that you’re feeling into him. Sudden but urgent, you do the next best thing when your voice fails you. 

You blink up at him, hearts in your eyes as you open your mouth and curl your tongue a little. Drool and tears and snot dirty your face. Your hair is no doubt a rat's nest piled on top of your head the way it is. The moans and whimpers that leak past your open mouth are ragged and lewd. You look like a pathetic, broken down mess yet here he is; easily giving into your silent pleading with a fond smile.

“You’re so fucking cute, y’know? Askin’ for kisses like that…what else is a man supposed to do, huh.” He leans down without hesitation, licking into your mouth with a groan. You shiver, spit sliding down your chin as you messily kiss back. Gege gege gege. You chant over and over and over again in your mind, out loud as you trail your mouth down his lips to his chin. 

He chuckles but allows you to nip and mouth near the bottom half of his face. You brush your nose against the underside of his chin, jolting and shaking from the force of his hips as they smack repeatedly into your plush thighs. Nuzzling into his pulse, you nip and suck marks into the skin you can feel, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close when he drapes his front over you. Your eyes roll when the feeling of his weight lands on you, heavy and warm and perfect to keep you tethered. 

“Love you, gege. Love you so much…” You mumble in between bites to his shoulder, the nails dragging down his back suddenly digging in deeply when he bucks against you hard.

“Ngh, shit.” 

You gasp when he gathers you in his arms and squeezes you against his chest, cock hitting deep in you once, twice, three more times before he finally bursts. Shallowly, he rides out his orgasm with short thrusts, lips pressing feverish kisses up and down your neck.

“Mhm, love you too, baby.” He rasps against your skin, shaky and overwhelmed but ultimately happy. A feeling you echo when you play with the longer ends of his hair, giggly and loopy from the endorphins rushing through you. Abstractly you know your whole body is going to be sore in the morning, but that’s a problem for you in the future. For now? You’re going to bask in your afterglow. A well deserved one that was years in the making.

“That’s new.”

You glance up from your phone, looking over at Jeremy who’s blatantly staring at your neck. Outwardly, your face hardly changes from the almost bored look on your face. But inwardly you’re a flushed, giggling mess. It’s hard to keep a straight face, but he doesn’t know about your secondary designation so…

“Mhm, it’s cute right?”

“It’s definitely…something.”

You snort at his bemused expression. Jeremy was older, late thirties early forties. It’s clear he’s judging your fashion sense on his own sensibilities but you don’t take it personal. Those outside of the Dom/Sub community don’t understand the importance of what you’re wearing right now. A collar. A collar Caleb specifically picked out for you.

Three months have passed since the day of your reunion. 

You both figured it was about time to make things official; and you were the one to suggest collaring. Caleb had taken your suggestion with the utmost seriousness, all hints of his playful attitude falling to the wayside as you ironed out the details. Two weeks later and down a mysterious amount of money that Caleb refuses to tell you about leaves you here in this moment; working with the collar on in public. It’s a cute, subtle accessory, only those who know are able to recognize it for what it is. You even think the barista at Nova might’ve had a familiar knowing glint in her eye that morning when you went to pick up your coffee, but you hadn’t stuck around to find out.

Colored a deep purple, so deep that it looks black in most lighting, the band sits low on your throat. An inch thick, it’s visible most of the time, hidden only when you have high collared shirts. A shiny little metal clasp sits in the middle matching the chain and hook along the back. There’s enough give on the chain for it to be loose, but you like it a little tighter so that you’re always reminded of it. The gem dangling from the clasp is your birth stone, catching the light every time you shift.

You love it more than words can convey.

You still remember the night he gave it to you; how special he made it. He really went the extra mile; cooking you a warm and filling dinner, watching a round of your favorite movies on his couch afterwards allowing your food to digest. And then after, he led you back to his bedroom where two boxes lay waiting on the covers of his bed. One for the collar you’d wear out in public, and another just for the two of you during your Plays. You can feel your cheeks heat just at the thought of your other collar, and your fingers come up to fiddle with the dangling gemstone as you try to calm yourself down. 

“It sure is, isn’t it.” You answer after a moment, smiling when Jeremy huffs and shakes his head. He sticks around in front for a little bit, idly chatting as he gives you a few looks before retreating to the back, a thankful little smile on his face as he does so. You think he doesn’t realize he even made the expression, and it rouses mixed feelings within you. You’re more than embarrassed of your past actions; allowing yourself to get so sick that it started to affect your job rankles and you understand why he’d be visibly happier when it’s clear you’re visibly better. 

Still. 

The thought of someone knowing your habits enough to notice when you’re vulnerable is strange and a little off putting. You aren’t used to it, not when you’ve purposely distanced yourself from others. You don’t think you’ll ever feel comfortable being so close to anyone besides Caleb, though sometimes you wonder what it’d be like to have friends in the way Caleb has them. 

Ding!

“Speak of the devil…” You huff, looking down at your phone to catch a glimpse of the notification. Caleb’s sleeping face briefly pops up along with his message, and your thoughts immediately shift away from your kinda depressing thoughts. For now, you’ll try and put that thought out of your mind. You’ll figure something out in the future. Eventually. Maybe.

“Whatever.” You shake your head and click on the message, soon getting lost within the conversation as Cloud Book and Co. peacefully sits in its private nook; quiet and housing your little slice of peace as you finally feel like a person again.

Your mouth shouldn't be moaning his name like a prayer.

He's Mikasa's crush. Like. Her fucking lifelong crush.

And she's also your best friend. This is all wrong.

And yet, you are here tightening your grip on Eren's hair to keep him close while his face sinks under your skirt and his tongue licks your clit in circles as his two long fingers get inside you, curling and getting a sharp moan from you that echoes in the small bathroom.

"Shhh!" Eren hisses against your clit, sending shivers through your spine because of the feeling of his breath vibrating against your tortured clit "You don't want your best friend to find me eating you out on her bathroom, or do you?"

You shake your head in desperation, he chuckles in response before sucking on your sensitive bud again, making you hold the counter and lean your back on it because your legs are so weak right now.

This started with an innocent talk in the kitchen with you taking the chance to give him a good impression of your friend to him so they can finally start dating and she stops telling you everyday her discourse about how Eren is so nice and gentle with everyone. 

Or she thinks so.

"Come on, be a good fucking slut and cum in my mouth, baby" His fingers get a faster pace, causing you to cover your mouth firmly while the biggest orgasm in your life hits you. 

He's being everything but gentle right now, he removed his deadly fingers to start devouring your cunt like a hungry man, trying to take every drop of your juices.

Maybe it was in the two or three shots that you both drank playing as an icebreaker, maybe it was in his teasing jokes that you had to answer back more wisely. 

Maybe it was in the intense makeout that you were having on her couch just before she arrived with more drinks and friends of yours behind her.

Her sweet smile and small blush when she saw Eren, trying to make small talk with him without getting nervous was the top of your guilt. You swore to yourself that kissing Eren was a mistake from alcohol and you'd better stay away from him for the rest of the night.

Or not.

Eren gets up from his knees to grab your face firmly and bring you into a messy kiss. His lips taste a little different since he was just eating you out a minute ago, but the arousal plus to his experienced lips makes it all feel so good. 

Even the fact of betraying your best friend right now.

One of your hands grabs his neck firmly to keep kissing him while the other caresses from his firm chest to his abs and finally reaches the hard bulge on his pants, touching it above the clothes, winning a hard groan from him against your lips.

His hand quickly grabs your neck, putting a considerable pressure on it that makes you look up at him, but still lets you breathe slightly. Fuck, the wetness in your cunt is growing by just his touch.

"You fucking need my cock, huh?" He whispers with a husky voice against your face, looking down at you with a lustful gaze that makes you shiver "You're so needy for a good dick filling you up. So needy that you go for your best friend crush, huh?"

"Yes... I'm so needy for you, Eren" His dirty talk is hypnotizing you, the way he degrades you, chokes you and grinds his knee between your legs in your wet entrance is making you so submissive to him. "Eren, please... Fuck me now"

He chuckles, turning you to face the mirror while he starts kissing your neck while he forces your face to keep looking at your reflection so fucked out.

"Look at that, so horny for me, only for me right?"

You nod desperately, he snorts and pushes your back to make you bend in the counter. He unties his belt and pulls down his jeans to let his aching dick hit his stomach, leaking with precum from all the pre-game and so hard for feeling you finally.

He starts rubbing it in your entrance, making you hiss in annoyance while you push your ass against his hips to feel him more.

"Please, just put it in" You aren't usually this submissive but all this guilt between the arousal that makes you beg for him so easily. "Please, I need you filling me up, Eren"

Maybe begging for it makes you feel like you're not the only one doing something wrong.

"Oh, you need me? How much, baby?" He starts pushing his dick inside you without previous warning, covering your mouth quickly while he leans closer into your ear to groan while he pushes farther "Tell me now, gorgeous. Let's sin properly, okay?"

His length enters completely in you, making you swear in the low when he pulls almost out to thrust completely with a slow peace. He's not being gentle, he's not waiting for you to adapt to his size.

He's torturing you to turn you into a hot mess.

Your hand stamps against the mirror for support when you start to push your ass against his hips to get more, a soft sound of clapping echoes on the bath when your movements against him get more insisting.

"M-More, need so fucking more, Eren..." The words come out in a soft whimper, feeling his hands grabbing your sides to hold your waist to keep your skirt on there to give him a nice view of your ass recoil when he hits you. He groans deeply before spanking you to receive a desperate moan from you. "F-Fuck... Fuck me, please..."

He smiles at your fucked reflection before holding tight your hips and start slamming almost aggressively his hips against you. 

"So fucking good... Let your friends hear how much of a whore you are "His words have a deep impact on you when he starts hitting the sweet spot inside you.

Even if you keep covering your mouth to hold the moan, the door clearly can't contain the loud sound of skin slapping against each other followed by Eren groans and praises.

You hope that the loud music downstairs can't let them hear anything coming from the bathroom. And what makes you feel worse is not the fact that someone could catch you. Is actually the way your hips move forward for more, the fact that you're loving the way he takes you.

You look up a little to see the reflection of his sweaty face looking at the mess that you became: messy hair, swollen lips and your eyelids half open because of the small tears forming on your eyes. 

You look so fucked out and he loves it, he wants more. So much more than taking you in this small bathroom.

His thrusts start to get messier and rougher when he moans in the low, feeling how your cunt starts to tighten around him.

"Milking my cock, baby? Don't tell me that you want me to breed you, is that so?" He struggles to talk too, he's holding his climax too, waiting for you to cum with him.

Kissing your best friend's crush? That's low.

Fucking with him in her bathroom? That's worse. 

But, letting him cum inside you? There's no words for that.

But maybe you can create one.

You nod desperately, holding the bath counter with your life while he deepens his cock inside you so roughly that your cries can't be completely hidden with your hand when the climax hits you. 

Your tears of pleasure come out while you keep moaning in your hand as Eren keeps thrusting a little more while his warm cum fills you up.

You both breathe heavy after the hard orgasm you just had, trying to stabilize your breathings. Soft whimpers escape from your mouth when he pulls out of you, letting you feel the weakness on your legs followed by the sensation of a hot liquid leaking on your thighs.

You stumble a little trying to stand up and straighten on the counter, Eren quickly grabs your arms to hold you, chuckling slightly.

"You're so weak. Let me help you"

Even though his teasing, he laughs genuinely when he fixes his belt and pulls up his zipper to knee in front of you and helps you put your panties on again and fixes your clothes to not look so shriveled. You feel a little too spoiled, but even if you wanted to do it your trembling legs wouldn't have let you.

Once he finishes, he stands up in front of you holding your waist to keep you close while you mumble a soft 'Thank you'.

“Did it felt good?” Asks softly, caressing your waist with his thumbs.

No.

No.

It shouldn’t.

Even if you enjoyed it, you should say no and dump him.

“Yeah…” You answer in a soft whisper, so calm and relaxed “It felt so good…”

You keep like that just looking at each other smiling for some seconds until the music downstairs suddenly stops, warning you both and making you break the embrace to clear your throats and get outside the bath.

Carefully to not get noticed, you both sneak out downstairs to pretend like nothing happened. When you both are laughing getting inside the kitchen, you bump into Mikasa who was about to walk out of it.

"Guys! Where have you been?" Her cheeks blush immediately after hinting Eren's chest accidentally.

"Oh... We were just... Talking, outside. Maybe that's because you haven't seen us in a while" You answer with a knob on your throat.

Such a lame excuse for someone who has his cum pooling on your panties right now.

But still, she nods understandably while Eren excuses himself to reunite with Armin in the living room. Winking at you once he’s behind Mikasa and causing a mess on your stomach.

She doesn't seem any suspicious about your words. Fuck, she really trusts in you.

When she pulls you inside the kitchen all excited to ask what you were talking about, asking if you mentioned her, you can't help but bite your tongue when your words come out.

you've tried everything. exploring every possibility in your relentless pursuit of pleasure, yet it remains unfulfilled. you want—no, you need the real thing — a real cock. not a cold silicone dildo or a vibrator but a genuine connection with a man who can satiate your deepest desires. someone who not only comprehends the hidden desires that you are yet to find in the corners of your mind, but also your current fantasies. a man of experience, confidence, and the ability to surpass your expectations, while respecting your boundaries and limitations.

driven by this longing, you made a bold decision one fateful day. you set your sights on a formidable individual, a man whose reputation precedes him. with unwavering determination, you sought to approach leon kennedy, a figure who held the key to unlocking your satisfaction, as they say.

and so, he invited you to his penthouse, seated comfortably behind his wide desk, he reclined his swivel chair. his piercing blue eyes alternated between the document resting before him and the person who stood before him—you.

leon smirks, leaning back further in his chair, his fingers steepled together. his piercing blue eyes lock onto yours, his voice smooth and confident. "let's go over the agreed-upon rules one last time." he reaches forward, picking up the paper and clearing his throat before reading out loud.

rule number one: you will address me as "master " at all times, without exception. disobedience will result in punishment.

rule number two: your body is mine to do as i please. you will obey any and all orders given to you immediately and without question. failure to do so will result in punishment.

rule number three: you are to be completely submissive and obedient at all times. any displays of resistance or defiance will be met with consequences.

rule number four: trust and honesty are crucial. you will communicate your desires, limits, and boundaries clearly and openly.

rule number five: "red" will be our safe word, a word that will signify the need for an immediate halt to any activities. and for situations when you cannot speak, a double tap from you shall serve as your signal for me to cease.

rule number six: consent is given and assumed between us. we have entered into this agreement willingly and with a clear understanding of the dynamics at play.

rule number seven: any physical marks or bruises left on your body will be solely at my discretion. i may use them as a reminder of your submission and my ownership.

rule number seven: you will wear the collar i have provided you with at all times when we are together. it symbolizes your submissive status.

rule number eight: aftercare is of utmost importance. i will provide care and comfort after each session, tending to your physical and emotional needs.

rule number nine: limits and hard boundaries will be respected. any acts or requests beyond those limits will not be entertained.

rule number ten: discretion is crucial. our arrangement and any activities that occur between us will remain strictly between us.

rule number eleven: i shall provide for you as long as our contract is in effect.

rule number twelve: communication is key. if at any time you have concerns, questions, or suggestions, you are to bring them to my attention.

rule number thirteen: exclusivity is expected. you will be mine and mine alone. you will not engage in any form of sexual activity with others without my explicit permission.

rule number fourteen: this agreement is subject to periodic review and amendments as we see fit, but any changes must be agreed upon by both parties.

rule number fifteen: above all, remember that your role is to serve and please me. your submission and obedience will be rewarded, but disobedience will not go unpunished."

leon finishes reading the rules and proceeds to enlighten you now with the punishments in order for disobedience and failure to follow the contract. the severity of the punishments depends on the nature of the transgression.

"for minor offenses, i may choose to administer a spanking, using my hand or other implements of your choosing. a whip, a belt, or even a paddle. the sting and the marks they leave will surely remind you of your place.

for more grave offenses, i might decide to deny you pleasure, subjecting you to a period of denial and frustration. teasing you, torturing you with pleasure until the brink, only to leave you unsatisfied.

for severe transgressions, humiliation. i will expose your deepest, darkest secrets, making you feel vulnerable and exposed. in front of me, or perhaps even in front of others, if i deem it necessary. the shame you feel will be a harsh reminder of your place.

another form of punishment i enjoy is forced orgasm. i will push you to your limits, overstimulating your body with pleasure until you are begging for mercy. but i will continue, without pause, until you are broken, trembling, and completely at my mercy."

and, of course, there is always the option of physical pain. whether it be through flogging, caning, or even more extreme methods, like branding.

the act of marking you permanently, etching my ownership into your very flesh. it would serve as a stark reminder of your place and your commitment to our contract. for the location, i have chosen the upper back, just below the neck. it is a prominent yet easily concealable area, allowing you to exhibit your mark when desired or to hide it under clothing when necessary."

"as for the design, a simple symbol of my choosing will suffice. an intricate "L" intertwined with a fierce dragon, symbolizing power, dominance, and the unbreakable bond between master and slave." leon's voice lowers, his gaze intensifying as he locks eyes with you.

"and now, the method. we shall proceed with scarification, using a heated branding iron. the sensation of searing pain, the sizzle of flesh meeting metal, will etch the memory of my ownership permanently into your being."

setting the paper back down on the desk and swiftly sliding it across the table towards you. he studies your face carefully, waiting for your response.

after thoroughly reviewing the contract and deeming it satisfactory, a surge of confidence coursed through your veins. without hesitation, you grabbed the pen from his desk, eager to finalize the deal with a flourish of your signature.

"done."

without wasting another precious moment, leon reached for his desk, deftly pulling open a drawer to reveal a thick and vibrant pink collar. with a determined gaze, he rose to his feet.

his fingers idly toying with the collar's texture as he approached you. then he pressed his lips tenderly against your forehead, a gesture filled with affection and a hint of dominance. it sent shivers down your spine, amplifying the anticipation that already hung in the air.

circling behind you, his hand delicately brushed your hair over your shoulder. with a confident yet gentle touch, he wrapped the collar around your neck, securing it in place. the buckle clicked, its snugness striking the perfect balance between leaving a mark and allowing you to breathe freely.

"who owns you, pretty thing? tell me,"

"you do, master. all for you."

"mmm, such sweet devotion," leon purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction as his hands trailed down your body, his touch both possessive and tender. he gripped your waist firmly, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to elicit a gasp from your lips.

leaning in, his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, his voice a low, velvety whisper. "you belong to me now. your body, your pleasure, all for me." his words sent a jolt of desire coursing through your veins, your body growing more submissive under his commanding presence.

leon slowly guided you towards the bed, his hands never leaving your body. he sat down on the edge, his gaze fixed on you with hunger in his eyes. "strip for me, pet. show me what's mine," he commanded, his voice laced with an intoxicating blend of authority and desire.

your hands shook slightly as you began to undress, the vulnerability and anticipation electrifying every movement. leon's eyes drank in the sight of you, his gaze washing over your exposed skin, appreciating every curve and contour. his lips curled into a wicked smile, his own arousal evident.

as you stood before him, bare and vulnerable, leon's hand snapped out, the sound of a sharp slap resounding through the room. a mixture of pain and pleasure ignited within you, your body responding to the delightful sting. "you've been such a good pet, haven't you?" he taunted, his voice laced with mock sympathy. "but we're just getting started."

without warning, his hand tangled in your hair, roughly pulling you towards him. his lips claimed yours in a fierce and possessive kiss, his tongue dominating yours as he explored the depths of your mouth. the taste of him consumed you, his taste lingering on your tongue as you gasped for breath.

breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged. "you're mine, and i'm going to make sure you never forget who you belong to," he growled, before pushing you back onto the bed, positioning himself above you.

leon's lips crashed into yours once again, the hunger and desire intensifying with each passing second. his hands roamed your body, exploring every inch with a possessive grip. as your tongues danced together, the room filled with the sound of your muffled moans, consumed by your shared lust.

his fingers trailed down your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. with a firm yet gentle grip, he squeezed your ass, the sting of the slap still lingering on your skin. "you like it rough, don't you? tell me," he demanded, his voice filled with a mix of dominance and eagerness.

a shuddering breath escaped your lips as you mustered the words, your voice a mere whisper. "y-yes, master. want it as rough as you want," you admitted, your submission fueling the fire within him.

in response, he threw you onto the bed. leon gripped your wrists and pinned them above your head, holding them firmly in place. his kisses descended from your lips, trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of love bites and marks in his wake. the combination of pleasure and pain sent waves of electricity through your body, leaving you trembling with anticipation.

his hand slipped between your thighs, teasing your slick folds with his fingers. with a wicked smirk, he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "do you want me to claim you, pet? to make you mine in every way?" he murmured, his voice laced with a sadistic edge.

desire surged through your veins as you nodded eagerly, your voice barely above a whisper. "y-yes, make me yours completely," you pleaded, your words punctuated by a moan as his fingers slipped inside you, expertly exploring your depths.

leon's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he felt your wetness coating his fingers. he moved them in a slow and calculated manner, curling them to find that sweet spot that would elicit delicious moans from your lips. each movement of his hand was designed to bring you pleasure, to make you crave more.

keeping his eyes locked on yours, he pulled his fingers out, only to thrust them back in, setting a rhythm that matched the growing heat between you. each stroke was deliberate, leaving you on the precipice of pleasure, but never quite pushing you over.

his voice was a commanding whisper as he spoke, hot breath cascading over your ear. "so obedient and responsive," he growled, his voice dripping with authority. his fingers quickened their pace, plunging deep into your core, causing you to arch your back in pleasure.

leon's smoldering eyes bore into yours, relishing in the sight of your submission. he pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right to hit your most sensitive spot. your moans filled the room, echoing the pleasure that surged through your body like an electric current.

with a flick of his wrist, he removed his fingers from your dripping entrance, making you whimper in need. he brought them up to your lips, the scent of your arousal filling your nostrils as he traced your lips with his fingertips. "open," he commanded, his tone demanding your unquestioning obedience.

as your mouth opened, he slid his fingers inside, fully coating them with your taste. "suck them clean, pet," he ordered, his voice laced with the promise of retribution if you disobeyed. without hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his fingers, your tongue swirling around them, cleaning off every drop of your essence.

satisfied with your obedience, leon withdrew his fingers from your mouth, a glimmer of sadistic pleasure dancing in his eyes. "perfectly made just for me," he declared, his voice filled with lust and dominance.

a cruel smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he unbuckled his belt, the sound of leather sliding through metal sending a shiver down your spine. holding the belt firmly in his hand, he let the leather coil against his palm before he loomed above you.

his strong hands gripped your hips, flipping you onto your stomach. "you're going to feel every strike of this belt," he warned, his voice filled with a mix of authority and sadistic pleasure. yet, he paused. "color."

"g-green."

without further delay, leon brought down the belt, the leather hitting the exposed skin of your backside with a resounding crack. the sting and burn left you breathless, each strike toeing the line between pleasure and pain. your moans filled the room as he continued his relentless assault, marking your skin with red welts that matched his voracious desire.

he leaned in closer, his voice husky and dominant. "such a good girl," he praised, his lips brushing against your ear. "you're already so wet for me, so eager and ready to get fucked rough."

he released his pulsing cock from his pants, his touch sending a jolt of anticipation coursing through him. his hand moved with a purpose, stroking his length firmly, the sight and sound of his hand gliding along his throbbing shaft filling the room.

leon's cock throbbed in his hand, the veins pulsating with anticipation. each stroke elicited a soft grunt of pleasure from his lips, his grip tightening around his shaft. it was a sight to behold, his arousal on full display.

with a teasing smirk, he pressed just the tip inside, relishing in the way you gasped and writhed beneath him. "you want it, don't you, pet? beg for it," he commanded, his voice a low growl of dominance.

an intense desire coursed through you, driving you to please him even further. "please, n-need you inside me, master," you pleaded, your voice dripping with desperation.

leon's dominance ignited within him. before you could prepare yourself, he shifted his body, his throbbing length pressing against your slick fold and without warning, he thrust himself inside you with a forceful intensity. pleasure mixed with pain as your body adjusted to his size, and a guttural growl escaped his throat. he set a rhythm, his movements powerful and relentless, his grip on your hips leaving bruises in his wake.

you gasped loudly, your hands gripping the bedsheets, nails digging into the fabric. "o-oh fuck, leon," you moaned breathlessly, your voice filled with a mix of pleasure and surprise.

suddenly, leon's hand came down hard on your ass, the sound of the impact echoing in the room. the sting of the slap sent a jolt of pain and pleasure coursing through your body, a reminder of your place and the rules you should follow.

"address me properly, pet," he growled, his voice filled with a potent mix of warning and desire.

tears glistened in your eyes as the pain radiated through your ass, your skin tingling from the impact. "i-i'm sorry, master," you whimpered, your voice laced with both regret and desire. "please, forgive me."

leon's hand ghosted gently over the now reddened flesh, his touch contrasting the previous harshness. "you know better," he chided softly, his tone a twisted blend of affection and dominance.

with a shift of his hips, he resumed his forceful thrusts, his cock pounding into you with a relentless pace. each stroke brought a mix of sensations driving you further into submission. as your body trembled against him, you vowed to never forget his title again.

leon smirked, relishing in the sight of your desperate and needy state. "hm... you liked that, didn't you?" he taunted, his voice filled with a mix of sadistic pleasure and satisfaction. "of course you do, fucking slut."

with each forceful thrust, he drove himself deeper inside you, hitting all the right spots. his hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he claimed you completely. his body moved with calculated precision, his hips meeting yours with an insatiable hunger for dominance.

the sound of skin slapping against skin resonated through the room, the bed creaking beneath you. your moans filled the air, mixing with his growls of satisfaction. his relentless pace pushed you to the edge, your body trembling with pleasure as you clung to the brink of release.

but leon wasn't done with you yet. with a sudden change in position, he flipped you onto your back. "now you're going to take it just how i want," he hissed, his voice laced with a sadistic edge.

his free hand moved to your throat, hand gripping the collar firmly but not enough to cut off your oxygen. "look at me," he commanded, his eyes locked with yours. "i want to see you. look at me in the eyes as i claim you as mine. fill you up with my seed, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"y-yes!" you exclaim in ecstasy, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes, on the brink of spilling over.

as your eyes met, he could see the hunger, the desperation reflected in your gaze. his hand traveled up to your face, his thumb brushing gently against the corner of your eye, capturing a tear. he brought his thumb to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours as he licked it clean, savoring the taste of your submission.

"there it is... such a beautiful sight," he murmured darkly, his voice filled with a mix of lust and superiority. your tears only spurred him on, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more frenzied.

leon's thumb found your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive nub, sending pleasure coursing through your veins. the combination of his skilled fingers and the overwhelming pleasure he's forcing onto your body had you on the brink of release, your breaths coming in sharp gasps.

his hand released your throat and trailed down, his fingers tracing a path along your collarbone until they reached your pert breasts. with a firm grip, he kneaded them, squeezing and massaging the soft flesh, relishing in the way they filled his hands.

with a smirk, he leaned down and took one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, sucking on it with an irresistible intensity. his tongue swirled around your sensitive bud, creating delicious friction that made you arch your back in pleasure. he alternated between gentle and rough bites, leaving love bites in his wake. the mix of pain and pleasure sent shivers down your spine, igniting a primal need within you.

"m-more, master," unable to hold back any longer, you moaned and tangled your fingers in his hair, encouraging him to take more of you. the sensations were overwhelming, a perfect blend that brought you closer to the edge.

he couldn't resist the urge to give you a sharp bite, his teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh of your breast which sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core, earning a yelp from your trembling lips. his hot breath ghosted over the bite mark as he murmured, "beautiful."

his mouth left a trail of wet kisses and love bites along your chest, marking you as his possession. he could sense your desire building once again, your body begging for release under his touch.

with a sinful smirk, he released your breasts from his mouth. his fingers circling your nipples, tugging on them lightly before sliding down your body to grip your thigh. hoisting your leg over his shoulder to grant him deeper access and allow him to pound into you harder.

with half-lidded eyes, you gaze at leon, intrigued by his furrowed brows and the intensity of his gaze fixed on your lower region rather than your face. leon's thumb grazed against the bulge in your lower abdomen, his touch sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. his teasing caress only heightened your desire, leaving you yearning for more of his delicious domination.

he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered huskily, "seeing my cock bulge reminds me that you exist to serve me. you are mine, my plaything. every thrust, every swell of my cock inside you... it's a constant reminder of how deeply you've submitted to me."

with a swift motion, he thrust his hips forward, driving his bulging cock deeper into you, aching against every inch of your inner walls. the sensation was both pleasurable and torturous, a sweet torment that left you craving more of his merciless control.

"do you like feeling that bulge, my pet?" he asked, his voice laced with satisfaction. "does it make you feel owned, completely at my mercy? my cock stretching you, filling you, pushing you to your limits."

leon smirked at your trembling form, relishing the power he held over you. he firmly guided your hand to press against the bulge on your stomach, ensuring you felt every pulsation and throb of his cock as it filled you completely.

"such a good girl," he praised, his voice laced with wicked satisfaction. "feel that? feel how deeply i'm inside you? the proof of our connection lies right here."

he tightened his grip on your hand, making sure you couldn't pull away, as he thrust his hips forward, causing his cock to press even harder against your hand. every movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through both of you, reinforcing the intoxicating control he had over your body.

"you'll take everything i give you, won't you? every drop of my seed belongs inside you, isn't that right?" he commanded, his voice filled with sadistic delight. "but not just yet, pet. you don't get to cum until i give you permission."

with that, leon withdrew his slightly, a sadistic smile crept across leon's lips as he held himself still, teasing you with just the tip of his hardened length. he savored the sight of your desperation, relishing in your need for him to fill you completely once more.

your whine of frustration and need only fueled his sadistic delight. with a cruel twist of his hips, he pushed himself deep into you once again, his length plunging into your eager depths. the sudden fullness made you gasp, a mixture of pleasure and relief flooding your senses.

but just as quickly as he had given you what you craved, he pulled back, leaving only the head of his cock inside you. a whimper escaped your lips, the anticipation and desire consuming your thoughts.

he studied you, his gaze hungry and possessive, as he reached down to brush his thumb against your swollen clit, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm and gasp.

he shifted his rhythm, alternating between deep, agonizing thrusts and shallow, teasing motions. the anticipation and frustration built within you, driving you to the brink of insanity. your body writhed beneath him, involuntarily seeking the release it so desperately needed.

leon began to thrust slowly, torturing you with every languid movement, pushing you to the edge of orgasm only to deny it. he wanted to see you quivering with need, desperate and helpless under his dominant control.

leon was merciless. he reveled in your torment, denying you the climax you longed for, pushing you to the edge and then pulling back. his eyes danced with sadistic delight as he watched the desperation and need etched on your face.

"master, please," you pleaded, your voice filled with desperation. "i'll do anything. please let me cum."

"no, pet," he sneered mockingly, his tone dripping with authority. "you do not get to cum until i allow it. and i must say, i'm quite enjoying watching you squirm and beg for it."

he continued his calculated torture, bringing you closer and closer to the edge with each torturous stroke. your body trembled, juices dripping down your thighs as you teetered on the precipice of release.

submissively, you spread your legs wider, silently offering more of yourself to him. you desperately hoped that your actions would be enough to convince him. finally, when he deemed you had suffered enough, leon's rhythm shifted once more. his movements became rough and forceful, pushing you over the edge.

each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, your walls tightening around his thick cock. you could feel him deep inside you, his size filling you to the brim.

as your body quivered beneath him, on the precipice of release, he continued his ruthless assault. your moans grew louder, more desperate, as you tumbled over the edge into a mind-shattering orgasm. the waves of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you gasping and trembling beneath his dominating presence.

"l-leon!" you cried out his name, your pleasure mingling with his dominance, creating a symphony of ecstasy.

as your body shuddered and twitched beneath him, leon continued his relentless rhythm, prolonging the blissful torture. with a groan, leon reached his peak. he buried himself deep within you, emptying his hot essence deep into your waiting womb. you felt the pulsations of his release, his thick, potent seed filling you completely.

his eyes boring into yours as he slowly pulled out, relishing the way your body clenched around him leaving you feeling empty and yearning for more. the mixture of his cum and your juices dripped down your ass, a reminder of the intensity of your encounter.

leon's lips curled into a dark, satisfied smile as he scooped up the small amount of leaked cum and pushed it back inside you. his finger slid in smoothly, the wetness mixing with your own arousal. "don't waste a single drop of your master's cum, pet," he whispered throatily, his voice filled with a possessive hunger. feeling the tightness of your walls around his digits, he slowly withdrew his fingers.

leaning in close, he gently wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of his hand, his touch both comforting and possessive. "mmm, such a good pet," he purred, his voice laced with mocking affection. "i can see it in your eyes, how eager you are to please me. those tears only make it more enticing. you crave my approval, don't you?"

he caressed your cheek with a gentle touch. "and you'll do anything for my praise, won't you, my little slave? you'll endure pain, pleasure, and humiliation just to hear those words of approval spill from my lips."

a smug grin on his face as he watched your teary, half-lidded eyes and obedient nod. he studied you, his gaze hungry and possessive, as he reached down to brush his thumb against your swollen clit, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm and gasp.

memories of last night’s escapades come to mind. his mouth practically waters when remembering your plush ass; how you tossed it back onto his pelvis with an arching back and swaying tits, peering back at him with the sultriest smile, not to mention those glimmering bedroom eyes of yours. he recalls having to hold you still, so you wouldn’t be able to squirm away if his pounding were to become too much. you were soft, he remembers, so soft. the flesh of your hips would squish beneath the imposing pressure of his callous fingers, digging tighter into your sides whenever you’d flutter around the girth of him. he remembers the way he came inside with a rumbly moan, leaving your pussy full and the sheets wet . . . he wants to do it all over again.

with all that’s going on in that perverse little mind of his, he can hardly bring himself to focus on feeding the cattle. the only thing that can solve his problem is its source; you. and just like that, reiner’s dropping whatever he’d been doing before. his chores can surely wait, but this surge of desire can’t be overlooked. not a thing matters as much as finding you, fucking you, filling you.

he rounds the barn, passes by the apple trees and the horse stables in search of you. his cock pulses with every step, prodding stubbornly against the soft cotton of his boxers, now smeared with sticky precum. reiner brings a hand down to provide himself some relief, palming his boner with a low grunt. he’s so fucking hard that it almost hurts. that’s what he gets for fantasizing about you for the past thirty minutes and doing nothing about it until now.

with heavy steps, reiner makes his entrance into the farmhouse and is met by the sight of you lounging in the living room. you’re seated on the floral-print recliner with your pedicured toes propped up, all nice and comfortable. you’re wearing the dainty string of pearls he bought you for your birthday earlier in the year. pride flushes throughout his chest when seeing how prettily it rests on your collarbone.

you greet your man with a glossy smile, one that makes his dick throb beneath his hay-specked coveralls. reiner wonders if you’ve taken note of just how red he looks, rosy heat scattered across his face, from the highs of his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. he can feel his skin blazing with complete and total need.

reiner elicits a weak mumble of ‘hey, sugar. . .’, a stark contrast to your tone being all light and cheery as you ramble on about the cute little mini-skirt you’re crocheting for yourself. ‘since the weather’s getting warmer,’ you chime.

reiner loves you. he really, truly does, but he simply isn’t in the headspace to pay mind to the mundane task you’re occupied with at the moment— not when he’s this close to tearing off your summer dress, bending you over, peeling himself out of his spurred boots and pumping you full of every drop of cum he has to offer. fuck, he’s breathing harder now. gradually, he feels his resolve slip.

“you alright, honey?” you set down your crocheting hook, staring up at him with big, curious eyes. your voice, soft and consoling, grounds him just a little. reiner pulls off his signature cowboy hat, sets it on the nearby coffee table, and ruffles his hair so it falls into place. “yeah, i’m just—“ a pause amidst his sigh. truthfully, he’s here because he wants to fuck you pregnant. “i wanted t’see you, is all.” he settles on saying that instead. it’s much sweeter, all the more more romantic. less fetish-y. you probably would’ve looked at him funny if he admitted to crossing the entire farm by foot just so he could fill you up.

“aw, rei! you were missin’ me?” you laugh out of flattery. oh, your reiner. he’s so sweet in his own right. your boyfriend wants to ‘see you’, as he claims, like he hadn’t woken you up with nibbles to your neck, taken a (somewhat long, fairly busy) shower with you this morning, ate breakfast alongside you before heading off to tend to the farm. you assume he can’t help but cling to you and want more.

it’s sudden, but welcomed, how reiner closes in on you. he draws near like a magnet, until the space between you no longer exists. he’s crouching down to the level of the chair, hovering over you to press a kiss on your lips. “mhm. missed you so bad, mama,” he mumbles against your mouth. in reply, you whisper onto his lips, something about how he’s always ‘so eager.’ he leans into you, desperate for more, and the chair creaks underneath the addition of his weight. he’s a large man, anyone can tell. his brawny build and imposing height never fail to make you feel safe underneath him. 

reiner dips his head low and plants one, two, three sloppy kisses along your warm neck, and it gets you hotter than the southern heat. he leaves saliva in his wake, trailed by the lightest of bruises from his suctioning lips. he tries to undo your clothes and his, but the small space that this decade-old chair provides won’t allow for it. besides, it wouldn’t be wise of him to make you squirt on a family heirloom. “this won’t do,” he clicks his teeth, decidingly picking you up. your legs wrap around his torso like second nature, arms circled around the back of his muscular neck.

“reiii, baby wait!” you draw out the call of his name, but all it does is coax him further. can’t you tell that your voice is only making him harder? that your whines urge him to fuck you silly? 

“wait?” he reiterates, grinding up into your clothed core. you shudder upon contact. “what for?” from beneath the denim he wears, you can feel his stiffness poke against your flimsy panties. “don’t you wanna head to bed first, honey? hm?” you whine into his neck. it takes a good eight seconds for him to respond.

“uh-uh,” reiner gives you a half-hearted grunt, with his gaze fixed on your cleavage that the low neckline of your dress presents to him. obviously, he’s interested in other things. “here’s just fine, sugar.” he’s strong enough to fuck you standing up with nothing else supporting him, and you know that. he doesn’t need a goddamn mattress.

reiner’s large hands grab at your underside, using your ass as the perfect leverage to press you close to him. this is your third time fucking the week, and it’s only tuesday. you’d mention it, but he’s too busy kissing down the valley of your breasts. impatience seeps through his every movement, from how he grasps at your thighs to keep you upright, to eagerly feeling along your lower half like it’s his first time touching your body.

“slow down, rei.” begrudgingly, reiner removes his lips from your chest. he finally calms for just a moment, so that he can meet your beautiful eyes. your face has been overtaken by a subtle pout. “m’sorry, honey,” he murmurs between a deep kiss, all wet and tongue-filled. you assume that’s supposed to be his form of an apology. his toned arm re-fastens itself around your body, holding you tight, while the other bunches up your dress and pushes down his bottoms, “but i need you. so fuckin’ bad.” you could never deny him and that sweet southern drawl. he knows that his smooth mouth works magic on you— he always gets what he wants from his pretty girl. 

now freed of any confines, reiner lowers his hand to stroke at the base of his dick, tugging himself with a low hiss. involuntarily, his hips buck. “you can finish up that skirt later, hm?” he releases himself and appoints his attention to you, the pads of his fingers circling your clit in just the way you like. your head falls forward onto his broad shoulder. “hell, i’ll even buy you some o’those frilly ones at that fancy mall you like goin’ to . . .” he utters partially to you and a little to himself, still occupied with keeping pressure on your bud. by now, with your head thrown back, you’ve already forgotten what you were working on in the first place.

having done this countless times before, reiner’s quickly able to find your dripping entrance. the drag of his tip through your puffy folds causes a ‘shlck’ sound to elicit. reiner smiles to himself; you’re embarrassingly wet. your hips begin to swivel and writhe, that’s how he knows you’re getting as needy as he. choosing not to waste any more time, he pushes himself inside with one swift motion. you cry out from the stretch, already fluttering around the first few inches he gives you. so far, it's just the tip and some, but he's so wide.

“goddamnit, baby . . . i fuckin’ love this pussy,” reiner grunts through clenched teeth. he’d usually start off with a shallow thrust and ease you into it, but he isn’t feeling as patient. every thrust is fast-paced, almost rushed. the impact has you bouncing in his arms, all as he continues his unrelenting efforts.

“s’good, rei— so good,” wavering moans spill past your lips. he hisses when your manicured nails dig into the hot flesh of his firm, round biceps. you squeeze around him until his eyes go rolling back. “i know, mama. i know,” reiner whines and groans, because it’s all he can manage to do. if he was air-headed about you earlier, surely he’s braindead now. he pumps into you rapidly, restlessly, but he still finds a way to make it feel so thorough. that’s probably because he’s fucking huge; incredibly endowed, like every other big and buff part of him. with a cock this thick, how could he not strike every nerve and hit every spot? 

he rolls his hips up into you with breathtaking fervor, fucks into you until he’s balls deep within your pulsating cunt. sweat dripping down his furrowed brow, he rasps out, “can’t wait to fill you up,” sloppy kisses follow, and his tongue slides across yours as he mumbles on about cumming inside, stuffing you full, making you his. you finally know what he’s doing, you should’ve known all along— he’s going to pump his cum into you as deep as he can get it to go. thrust his seed into your pliant womb until he’s fucked a baby into you. 

the mere thought of makin’ you a mama has his head spinning. reiner’s breath catches in his throat, and your sounds heighten in pitch— the pair of you can tell that you’re bound to reach ecstasy. he squats a bit lower, goes a little faster, attempting to propel you both into your orgasms. it’s coming on like an impending wave; your belly tightens, toes curling from where your heels dig into reiner’s strong back.

he knows you’ve come undone once your smooth, ridge-like walls begin to spasm around him, to the point where he can hardly pull back or push in further. he likes to think that it’s your pretty pussy’s way of begging for his cum. still, he doesn’t let up, not until you’re thoroughly impregnated. “jus’ a lil more. hold on ‘fa me, honey, m’kay?” he pleads through throaty whimpers. weakly, you nod. the overstim makes you pant and mewl, biting onto the damp skin of his exposed jugular to try and quiet yourself.

reiner slams you down onto him, the veins in his forearms bulging as he desperately grasps onto the globes of your ass. the resounding slap of skin rings around his tingling ears, lewd sounds floating throughout the otherwise quiet farmhouse.

“g’na let papa fill you up? yeah?” you cry out a weak ‘mhm!’ along with other pleas of how much you want it; want him. his balls twitch and his abdomen goes tense. “m'close,” he gruffly whispers. you decide to spur him on: “g-gimme your babies, papa, i need it!” that’s all he needs to topple over the edge. “oh fuck, mama— m’gonnacum,” reiner’s words jumble together when he comes, coating your insides with warm globs of white. though his thighs never cease their trembling, he still maintains a steady hold on you, keeping your limp frame upright. 

reiner stays inside as a means of keeping all his seed plugged into you, just for good measure. he doubts that he’s got enough energy remaining to round up the cattle after this. his chest heaves slowly, and his hair’s a mess from all that pulling you were doing, but he’s more than satisfied. he's even got this dumb, blissed-out smile on his face to show his content. you're sure he's knocked you up thoroughly by now.

he’ll make sure to buy you a pregnancy test by next morning.