I AM A Robot M8

boy nextdoor!Caleb who’s been there since you guys were children. Sitting under the big oak tree in your front yard, his grandma bringing cold, perfectly cut fruit for the two of you to snack on. Musing young Caleb’s wild black hair with a smile before heading back to finish preparing dinner.

boy nextdoor!Caleb who became your best friend. Same elementary, middle, and high school. The two of you were inseparable. You showed up to his basketball games in corny, homemade shirts, and over-the-top school spirited attire. He always made a big deal of asking you to the school dance. The bestest of friends.

boy nextdoor!Caleb who gets a hefty scholarship to go play basketball on the other side of the country. He seems hesitant, since you had already committed to a university only a few hours from home.

You tell him this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. To attend such a prestigious school on a full ride, to experience a different community, to be free! He would be a fool to not accept it. It’s with tears in his soft, sweet eyes that he finally agrees, and officially commits.

boy nextdoor!Caleb who spends his last few months at home just about glued to your hip. If people thought you guys were inseparable before, they would think you guys are dating now.

boy nextdoor!Caleb drives you two down to the beach in his beat up, 2006 Toyota Tacoma the night before he’s set to leave. You sit in the bed of his truck, splitting an order of carne asada fries, watching the sunset. It’s quiet. You barely spoke when he walked to your door to pick you up. And now you sit here in silence, both of you clearly distraught over the major life change that was happening too quickly.

“My flight is at 9, by the way.” Caleb breaks the silence, solemnly. His eyes still cast on the warm pinks and reds that dance over the blue horizon. You wipe your mouth on a napkin before peering over at him.

The Caleb sitting next to you had changed so much over the 14 years you had known him. The golden hues of the sunset helped to blur some old, teenage acne scars. His jaw was well defined and sharp, definitely a result of years of corrective orthodontic work. You’ll never forget how corny and irritating he was when he finally got his braces off. Gloating about how he was about to be the most good-looking guy in the school, and the girls were just gonna be swarming all over him.

A wave of jealousy washed over you. But you naively passed it off as irritation from his new found ego. Because why would you be jealous of your friend getting attention from other girls?

“Surprised you would book a flight that early, I rarely see you out of bed before 10.” You chuckle, trying to make light of the aggressively glum conversation. He finally looks over at you, and you can tell he’s holding back tears.

Not because his eyes are watering, or his lip is quivering. To a stranger, there’s nothing about his expression that gives away how he’s feeling. But after years of reading Caleb like a book, you know his giveaways. The shifty eyes, the biting of his inner cheek, the near imperceptible bouncing of his leg.

He pinches his lips together and looks down at his hands in his lap.

“I’m gonna miss you, Caleb.”

“I know, Pipsqueak.” But he just can’t bring himself to say it back.

Of course he’s going to miss you. He’s probably going miss you more than you miss him! It’s him who’s leaving after all. He just… can’t acknowledge that without it turning into a big sappy mess. And he knows that when it turns into that big sappy mess, of him being honest with you, he’s not getting on that airplane tomorrow.

And so he keeps his feelings balled up tight. Changes the subject to ask about how you’re feeling for university. Let’s you scold him for eating more than his half of the carne asada fries, even if he did pay for them. Gives you his zip-up when the sun finally disappears below the horizon, and the ocean breeze gets too chilly.

boy nextdoor!Caleb who fights for one last night of normalcy with you, because he knows your relationship will never be this comforting, this intimate, this homey, ever again.

boy nextdoor! Caleb who lies to you about when his flight takes off.

boy nextdoor!Caleb who couldn’t even bear to think about you waving goodbye at airport curb. He knew you would have insisted on taking him to the airport yourself. He knew that one tear running down your cheek would have had him cancelling his flight.

So he’d rather just not deal. So he’d rather tell you his flight was taking off an hour after it really was.

When you wake up to see him off, you already feel nauseous. Trudging through your front lawn to his front door, expecting a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Caleb to answer. But it’s Josephine.

“Don’t tell me he slept through his alarm.” You kid, oblivious to the truth. Josephine looks at you with furrowed brows and a confused expression.

“Dear, Caleb’s uber came and got him over an hour ago.”

…

What?

You let out a nervous, forced laugh. You poke your head into the house, hoping to see Caleb standing around the corner playing one more cruel prank on you.

The living room is empty.

“Very funny, Josephine. Did Caleb put you up to this?” Your voice is shaking. Tears are threatening to spill. Your hands are trembling in the pockets of the zip-up he left you last night. The one you slept in after he walked you back to your doorstep and hugged you just a little tighter than he normally does.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. He told me you had your reasons for not seeing him to the airport…”

You can see her lips moving, but your ears are ringing so loudly you can’t understand a word she’s saying. Your feet are carrying you through the house before you know it, pushing right past the small, frail woman. Bounding up the stairs, throwing the door to Caleb’s room open, to find it near bare.

His closet is significantly emptier than it was last week. His posters are gone. His bed sheets are the neatest you’ve ever seen them. His favorite model planes are missing from their spots on the shelves.

He’s gone.

He’s gone.

He’s gone and he couldn’t even say goodbye.

So many emotions run through your head. Devastation, confusion, betrayal, rage.

How could he put you in this situation? How could he be so selfish?

You’re crying before you can even register it. Your best friend. The one who used to let you eat all the red sour patch kids from every bag he got. The one who carried you a half mile on his back from the skatepark because you thought you could drop into the bowl with almost no skateboarding experience. His signature was the first, and the biggest one on your cast.

He was your rock, from when you were 6 years old and missing your front teeth, to when you were 17 and sneaking around the neighborhood with a plastic bottle full of shitty tequila.

You’d think those memories meant something. That your relationship was important enough to at least say goodbye.

boy nextdoor!Caleb who broke your heart without even being in a relationship.

Five months later

It’s your winter break. You made it through your first quarter of college. You had taken your last final yesterday, and immediately drove home for the 3 week break.

You’re helping your parents carry in groceries from the car. Christmas isn’t for another week, but of course your Mom still bought way too much food from the store. Can never be over prepared, as she says.

Standing in front of the trunk of your moms car, you look to your right to see Caleb’s truck still parked in Josephine’s driveway. It’s exactly where it was all those months ago when he just about vanished from the face of the earth. It’s covered in pollen and bird poops. The bed of the truck blanketed in a layer of dead leaves. It’s the dirtiest you’ve ever seen it. The Caleb you know would never let his beloved truck get this filthy.

Or maybe he would. After basically ghosting you all those months ago, you’re questioning if you ever knew him at all.

The last bag of groceries gets taken in, and you’re handing stuff to your mom as she reorganizes the fridge to make space.

“Josephine said Caleb gets in tomorrow afternoon.” She mentions, almost too nonchalantly. Your mom knows what happened. She was the one who held you when you came back to the house in tears after finding out he was gone.

You huff, trying to appear somewhat unphased.

“I’m sure Josephine is excited to see him.” You say, coolly. You know your Mom isn’t falling for the unbothered act. It’s more so for your own sanity. Digging into the crunchy grapes you carried through the door less than 10 minutes ago.

She arranges the last item on the shelf, shutting the refrigerator door and turning to face you.

“Honey.” She lets out a long sigh. “I invited them over for dinner.”

You immediately stop chewing the food in your mouth and meet her gaze.

“Huh?”

“Josephine is coming over for dinner tomorrow. And I told her to bring Caleb.”

A beat of silence, before nearly spitting out your food. It takes effort to finish chewing and swallow.

“Mom, are you being serious?” You try not to raise your voice at your mother, but you’re obviously upset. “I don’t want that selfish dick in my house!”

“One, language! And two, you don’t have to speak to him, but you will sit down and have dinner like a respectful young adult!” Your Mom points a finger towards the dining room table in emphasis.

“I know you’re still hurting, baby. But Josephine told me Caleb is having a hard time being so far away. He’s obviously hurting too.” She walks around the kitchen island to meet you. “You don’t have to talk to him tomorrow, but just show up for him. I think it would mean a lot.” Her gaze is soft as she cups your cheek for a second.

“He didn’t even want me to show up at the airport. Why should I show up for him now?” You spit, fighting back tears as you storm up to your room.

The next day, you’re just in a shit mood. You decide to take a walk around noon, hoping to enjoy the calmness of your childhood neighborhood. Dissociation gets the best of you, and you don’t get back home for another two hours.

When you get back home, you can’t help but notice the shining navy blue paint of Caleb’s truck. No pollen or bird poop to be found.

His car is clean.

Meaning he’s inside the house.

Part of you wants to stomp through the beautiful hydrangeas in his front yard, break that front door down, and give him a piece of your mind.

The other part of you doesn’t want him to know how bad you’ve been hurting.

How you’ve secretly missed his company more than anyone’s in the world.

How you compare him to all of your new college friends. How they never come close to understanding you like he did.

Fuck this.

You can’t let him know he’s under your skin. You have to show up to the dinner tonight. He will see how well you are doing. And when he comes running back to you, it will be your turn to break his heart.

Your Mother always does a little too much when she’s hosting. She definitely made way too much food for a casual dinner. Roast chicken, potatoes, brussels sprouts, the whole nine yards.

You come down from your room after spending hours getting ready, only to pull off the “I’m not even trying” look. Just enough makeup to make you look alive. Your hair is blowdried, but not styled. Picked out a very simple outfit, too. Just some lowrise bootcut jeans, and a navy blue long sleeve.

“Jesus, I thought we were only feeding Josephine and Caleb. Not the whole dang neighborhood.” You quip to your Mother as you enter the kitchen, seeing all the completed dishes waiting on the counter.

“It’s better to have too much food than not enough, sweetheart. We can always send them home with leftovers.” She responds as she does the finishing touches on a few dishes.

A knock on the front door sounds through the house.

Your Mom looks at you expectantly. But you make your way to the sink to start tucking dishes into the dishwasher.

She lets out a deep sigh as she wipes her hands down on a towel before making her way to the front door.

You hear her greet sweet, elderly Josephine. You hadn’t seen her since Thanksgiving break. She had also come over for dinner, since Caleb hadn’t come home. Their voices draw closer, but suddenly the dirty measuring cups and pots in the sink are much more interesting.

They enter the kitchen, and you still only hear two voices, your mom and Josephine. Did Caleb not show up? Was he too embarrassed to see you? You scoff to yourself. Not surprising, he couldn’t deal with you face-to-face once again. Shutting the water off and drying your hands, you think you’ve won.

You couldn’t be more wrong.

Because there he is, standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

Eyes staring directly at you.

It’s irritating how he looks like he’s doing great. His shoulders are a little broader, his posture a little straighter. Did he get taller?

Your Dad interrupts your inner monologue by giving Caleb a firm handshake. Since when has Caleb been taller than your Dad? You can’t pull your eyes away from their interaction, Caleb being nothing but polite, as usual.

Josephine is what saves you from your trance.

“Hello, dear. You look wonderful!” She coos sweetly, pulling you into a gentle hug. “The food looks great, Caleb and I are grateful to be invited into your home.” She smiles up at you.

“Please, it was Moms idea to invite you guys over. She prepared all the food. No thanks to me.” You sheepishly rub the back of your neck, suddenly feeling Caleb’s undivided attention on you from the other side of the room. A quick glance in his direction confirms your suspicion.

Your Dad is saying something to him, but his gaze flicks over to you every couple seconds.

“Well, however things panned out, we are happy to be here. Caleb was looking forward to this.”

It takes everything in you not to laugh.

Looking forward to this? And he can’t even grow the fucking balls to say hello? Just stare at you from across the room? You want to rip his head off.

You can’t even respond to Josephine, just a sweet smile, nod of your head, and back to scrubbing dishes.

It’s ridiculous. This whole situation is so laughable. What kind of fucked up, pussy ass bitch would—

“Scrub any harder and I think you might burn a hole through that cast iron.”

You freeze. Too afraid to turn around, but you can feel him not far behind you. Close enough to use a soft voice to get your attention.

Gently setting the pan and scrub brush into the sink, you stare at the suds.

“Hi, Pipsqueak.”

You want to slap him. You want to hold him tight and never let go. You want to scream in his face until your lungs give out. You want to stare at him until his features are burned into your retinas.

You opt for the safe option. The one where you simply ignore him.

When you turn around, you don’t even look at him, just shoulder past him. You try to shoulder check him, except he’s got about 8 inches of height on you, and another 60 pounds, at least. So much for the intimidation tactic.

He lets you pass. Doesn’t try to stop you, to say anything to you. He just watches as you walk, as unbothered as physically possible, out of the kitchen and towards the bathroom.

You lock the door behind you and turn to meet your reflection. Your face is red, and a little sweaty. Trembling hands find their way to the cold water knob. Not to splash water on your face, but to just hold them there. To let them turn a little numb. To give you something to focus on besides the boy in your kitchen.

When you can’t feel your fingers, you turn the water off and dry your hands. Running your fingers through your hair to tame some of the anxiety frizz. Straightening out your clothes, and putting on your best, fake smile in the mirror. Show time.

Your Dad and Caleb are seated at the table when you enter the kitchen, probably rambling about basketball or whatever. Your mother and Josephine are setting the prepared dishes on the table. Josephine takes the seat next to Caleb, and your mother takes the seat next to your father at the head. You sit next to your mother.

Mindless chatter fills the room as everyone serves themselves. Your father asking Caleb about life as a college athlete, balancing training with his academics, whatever. Your dad always seemed to like Caleb. Even after he abandoned you all those months ago.

“An athlete and an engineering student. How impressive!” Your dad clasps a big hand on Caleb’s shoulder, to which he sheepishly grins and shakes his head.

“It’s all at the expense of my social life.” He chuckles, starting to slice into a hunk of chicken.

“Surely you have some free time. These first few months are supposed to be the most fun.” Your Mom chimes in as she takes a sip of her wine.

“The big parties aren’t really my thing anyways. Just me, the gym, and my textbooks.” Lies. Caleb was literally part of student council in high school. He loved planning big events and wearing ridiculous, school-spirited costumes. Caleb was, without a doubt, the more sociable one between the two of you.

His eyes find you staring a hole through your plate. His comment feels very pointed. As if he trying to make sure you know there is absolutely nothing, or no one, in his life right now. Like he’s almost punishing himself.

“I’m sure you’ll find your people, Caleb.” Your Mother reassures him.

The rest of the meal is cordial. Your Dad acts like he missed Caleb more than anyone else in the world, asking him question after question. Josephine kept diverting the conversation to talk about you, what you were studying, how the new independence was treating you, how you were faring making new friends.

As suspected, there was way too much food left over. Caleb and your Dad stood by the front door while your Mom and Josephine packed some tupperwares to take back. You collected the plates and silverware from the table to wash.

“Thank you for helping, dear.” Josephine said with a kind smile, a soft, wrinkled hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Don’t be too in your head, now. I know you’re a kind girl.” And with that, she turned to make her way towards the front door.

Your parents bid them both goodbye, Caleb throwing one last look over his shoulder to where you stand in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Hoping to finally meet your gaze, yet your arms are crossed and the living room rug is the most interesting thing in the world, apparently.

Later that evening, when your parents had turned in for the night, you sat on your living room couch with your cheesy ass romantasy novel. The warm lighting from the Christmas tree creating the coziest ambiance. Grimy sweatshorts from your high school days, holey summer camp tshirt with the neckline cut out.

The zip-up he wrapped around you in the bed of his truck, the night before he disappeared. Smells like your laundry detergent now.

A quiet knock rings against the front door.

There’s only one person who would have the audacity to knock at a time like this. Unless it’s a murderer. Might be a better option at this point, though.

Your bare feet pad over to the door to look through the peephole. Before you can even look, Caleb’s voice comes through the door.

“I know you’re standing at the door, Pips.”

Did this guy have echolocation? X-ray vision?

“Can you just open it?”

Through the peephole, Caleb stands on your porch in a university-branded sweatshirt, black sweatpants, and his own house slippers. He looks directly at the peephole, and your breath hitches.

He sucks in a deep breath before shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Or don’t. Just… hear me out. Please.”

You think about unlocking the door. Think about how pathetic he probably feels standing on your porch at close to midnight. Think about how he’s probably freezing. He was always more of a warm weather guy, where you preferred the cold.

You don’t open the door. But you lean your forehead against it.

“I didn’t want to leave you. I was so afraid that college was going to turn us both into different people. I didn’t want to think about you not needing me in your life anymore.”

You swear you hear a sniffle.

“I was selfish. I was a coward. I thought running away would preserve what we have. Or had. That if I didn’t acknowledge it, everything would be just as I left it. I could come back and we’d still be… friends.”

You lift your head off the door and glance at the locked handle.

“I don’t want to be your friend, pips.”

Your hand is frozen on the knob.

“I don’t want things to be like when I left. I don’t want to keep thinking about what things would be like if we were… more than friends.”

You think you might start crying. You know Caleb already is.

“I just… I’ve known something was wrong. Getting that scholarship was just… I don’t know. It made me think of a life without you. And I hated it. I hated the idea of not having you with me. Not being able to look at your face, or hear your laugh, or smell your favorite perfume.”

That was almost a year ago. Just how long has he been feeling this way?

You begin to silently cry on the other side of the door.

“I kicked myself everyday for leaving. I couldn’t think about anything besides you. I wanted to know what you were doing. What classes you were taking. What you ate for breakfast.” Caleb takes a deep breath in.

“I wanted to know if you were talking to anyone. The idea of another man taking my place… I didn’t even know how to describe how I felt.”

Another sniffle comes through the door.

“That’s when I realized I couldn’t be your best friend anymore. That just running away and hoping everything would stay the same was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

Your hand trembles on the cold, locked door handle.

“If you don’t wanna forgive me, that’s okay. I just can’t go on any longer with this tearing me apart from the inside out. I’d rather watch you live your life happily without me, than constantly think about the ‘what-ifs.’”

There’s a minute of silence. A strong exhale from Caleb’s side of the door.

You’ve never unlocked a door faster.

Caleb had taken about 5 steps down your lawn before the door got just about blown clean off the hinges. His head whips around, revealing his wet cheeks and red, puffy eyes.

There you are, standing in the doorway, just as red-eyed and puffy as him.

All he can do is stare at you, sniffling. You throw your hands out to your sides.

“You’re letting all the heat out.”

boy nextdoor!Caleb who nearly knocks the wind out of from how hard he collides with you, two big, strong arms wrapping around you. His face finds the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” All he can do is say it over and over again into your hair, wetting it from his tears. You smack a hand on his back.

“You’re… suffocat—ing… me.” You say with a strained voice. He loosens his grip, hands sliding out from around you to rest on your waist. He pulls his face out of your neck to stand to his full height.

You think this is the most handsome he’s ever looked. Yearning, soft eyes swollen from crying. Thick, furrowed eyebrows. Lips pinched together.

Your hands reach up to thumb away his tears. He all but melts into your touch.

“Do that stupid shit again and I will actually fucking kill you.” You say sweetly. He laughs through his tears.

“Never again.” He smiles. As you both stand in your living room, trying to be as quiet as possible, laughing through sniffles and sobs, he soaks in all your beautiful features. The ones he hasn’t been able to admire this close up since that night he left.

Your sweet, kind eyes. Rounded cheeks. Straight nose. Your bright, beaming smile. Your lips.

Your perfectly pink lips. Perfectly full. Perfectly… kissable.

His gaze flicks from your lips to your face, leaning in an imperceptible distance.

“I…” he swallows. “Can I kiss you, please?”

Caleb’s hands tremble on your waist. Your eyes move to his lips as you gently nod.

boy nextdoor!Caleb who kisses you like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in his life.

He’s so soft. Your lips move and glide together like they’ve done this a million times. A warm, callused hands finds its way to the back of your neck as your smaller ones find purchase on his solid, broad chest.

His tongue runs against the seam of your lips, asking for permission. You invite him in, letting him explore your mouth. His hands snake down your body to cup the backs of your thighs.

“Jump.” He murmurs into your mouth. Which you do, so obediently.

Caleb hoists you up, your legs wrapping around his trim waist, arms hugging his neck. He begins to walk towards the couch.

You hear a door open upstairs. The two of you freeze.

“Honey?” Of course it’s your Dad. The floorboards creak as his footsteps draw closer to the staircase.

Caleb just about throws you onto the couch before quickly assessing the living room for the best hiding spot. He decides to simply duck behind where you’re sitting.

Just as he attempts to hide all 6’2 of him behind the couch, your Dads footsteps come into view. He comes about halfway down the stairs before sleepily surveying the room.

“Everything okay down here?” He rubs an eye.

“Yep! Just… trying to fall asleep!” You chirp, probably a bit too eagerly considering it’s past midnight. He scans the room.

“Ok, honey… just— just keep the TV volume low, alright?” He turns to go back up the stairs. Did he think you were watching TV?

“Will do, Dad. Goodnight!” Again with the over enthusiastic response. Your Dad throws a hand over his shoulder before wishing you goodnight, as well.

Caleb is smiling up at you where he lays on the floor. He wiggles his eyebrows. You bend down to smack him.

“Don’t give me that look, you prick.” You whisper-yell at him. He’s trying to block your smacks, keeping his giggles to a low. “You could have offered to tuck him into bed and he would have said yes, kiss-ass.”

“He would not.” Caleb grabs your wrists and pulls you down on top of him, preventing you from thudding against the hard wood floor. You squirm and continue to try and slap him, but he’s got your wrists pinned.

“Would to!” You’re straddling him, still whisper-yelling in his face. “Oh, Caleb, you’re an athlete and an engineering major. You’re so smart, please be my son!” You say in a mocking voice. “You guys were having total bromance the entire time we were eating, and you know I’m right.”

Caleb playfully rolls his eyes, placing your hands on either side of his head before settling his own on your hips.

“Just say you’re jealous and move on.” He smirks, looking so boyish from his spot under you.

“Jealous?! Jealous of what? Of you or my freaking Dad?” You arch an eyebrow, tilting your head down at him.

“Jealous of all the attention I was giving your Dad. Obviously.” His fingers lightly pinch your sides in emphasis.

“I’ll have you know I was the furthest thing from jealous. I was one comment away from smashing a plate over your head the entire night.”

He throws his head back in playful, silent laughter.

“Yeah? And where’s that hostility now, hmm?” He teases, earning him a flick to the forehead.

“Ouch, Pip—!” He groans, rather loudly. You clamp a hand over his mouth to shut him up.

“Shut the fuck up, Caleb! Do you want my Dad to come back down here?” You scold him, albeit with a smile on your face. His eyes crinkle, and you can feel his grin under your palm.

“Maybe he’d be nicer to me than you’re being right now.” He says from under your hand. You roll your eyes and move to get off him, but a strong arm wraps around your torso and flips you both. Caleb’s large, muscular frame looms over you. The warm, incandescent bulbs from the Christmas tree softening his features.

His intense gaze makes you shyly look away.

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s embarrassing…” you murmur. A warm hand cups your cheek to turn your face back towards him, before tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“You’re so pretty.” His compliment makes your cheeks turn red. “You’ve always been the prettiest.” His hand on the side of your face is forcing you to hold his gaze. Uncomfortable under his attention and praise, you can do nothing but squirm.

“Caleb, stop…” An attempt to turn away is ruined by his thumb dragging over your chin, using his forefinger to pinch your jaw. A quiet exclamation of your name leaves his lips.

“Let me tell you how beautiful you are.”

You feel flustered and uneasy.

“I’ve never tried to be beautiful for you. You’ve never seen my beautiful side.”

“You don’t have to try for me. You’ve been beautiful ever since I met you. I thought you were beautiful when we were 9 and you had sand and strawberry ice cream all over your face after the beach. The same way I thought you were beautiful when we were 16 and I had to watch that water polo scumbag pick you up for your first date ever.” You can’t help but laugh. “Never liked that guy, by the way.” He adds, so matter-of-factly.

“You are the worst at holding grudges, you know that?” You reach up to pinch his nose. He just smiles and laughs. You love his smile. It’s just so… Caleb. You love his laugh.

You love Caleb.

You’ve always loved Caleb. You thought you loved him as a friend. Someone you could depend on to have your back through thick and thin. A shoulder to cry on. A set of ears to listen to your stupid, unimportant rants.

Five months apart changed your perspective. Caleb was more than that friend. Caleb was someone you wanted to grow old with. He was the person you wanted to come home to every night. The person you wanted to fold laundry and do your taxes with. Caleb was the person you saw yourself starting a family with.

Like he could hear your thoughts, he broke the moment of quiet with a whisper of your name.

“I love you. I love you so much.” He leans in to say against your lips, before kissing you so softly.

boy nextdoor!Caleb who kisses you exactly how you need to be kissed. His lips are soft, moving dominantly against yours to guide you. One forearm braced beside your head, the other hand gently squeezing your waist.

“I don’t wanna do this on my living room floor.” You mutter against his mouth. Caleb begins to trail kisses across your jaw, your neck, under your ear.

“Tell me where you wanna go, baby. I’ll take you anywhere right now.” Another wet kiss to your neck. He definitely just left a hickey. A small whine escapes you.

“My room,” is all you say before Caleb is effortlessly scooping you up off the floor. All four limbs wrapped around him like a koala as he ascends the stairs as quickly and silently as possible. No direction necessary, Caleb knows your house like the back of his hand.

He pushes his back against the door to open it, then his hand leaves your thigh for a split second to silently close and lock it behind him. Very carefully, he sets you onto your childhood, twin-sized mattress and climbs on top of you.

Caleb’s hips bracket yours as he wraps your legs around his waist. He wastes no time crashing his lips against yours. As his hips press against your core, you begin to feel his hardening length behind the layers of clothing. He feels big. Too big. A string of saliva connects your lips when he pulls away.

“You know, I used to have wet dreams about this exact scenario. About me getting to take care of you in this very bed.” His ears are pink at the admission, but he embraces it. Another hickey on your neck, right below your ear before he whispers.

“Dreamt about you screaming my name, too.” His tongue finds your earlobe. “But we will have to save that for another time. Need you to be quiet for me tonight.” The sensual voice in your ear makes you shudder.

Big, warm hands unzip the hoodie and dip under your shirt to trace the bottom of your ribs.

“Tell me to stop.” He whispers against your lips.

“Keep going.” You say, pulling him into the kiss with a hand carded through his hair. Caleb’s hands travel further up your ribcage to caress your breasts. One squeeze has you both moaning into each other’s mouths.

“Wanna see them.” He mutters against you while greedy hands bunch that ratty, summer camp tshirt up and over your perky tits. You feel him get a little harder when your chest is exposed to him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You snort. He pinches a nipple in retaliation.

“Brat.” He teases before diving straight into sucking a tit into his mouth.

The sight before you is… indescribable. Caleb, the same guy who used to knock on your door and ask if your mom if you could come out to ride bikes, has his face buried in your tits. Grabbing, squeezing, pinching, drooling all over them. His hips are starting to slowly grind against yours, rubbing his fat erection on your heated core.

All in your childhood bed. There’s a trophy from an 8u recreational soccer team on a shelf next to a one-eyed, stuffed bunny. The literal shirt you’re wearing is from a summer camp you both went to when you were 14. Your parents are 15 feet down the hall.

Teeth gently clamp on your nipple and tug, instantly knocking the thoughts from your brain. He kisses, sucks, and bites his way back up your neck to your lips.

“Take this off.” You grab at the hem of his sweatshirt, before he swiftly pulls it over his head in one smooth move. You take the break to completely shed your zip-up and tshirt.

Has Caleb always been this fucking ripped?

Strong, rounded delts bracket a broad, solid chest. One, two, three… is that an 8-pack? His abs look mandoline-level sharp. A light trail of hair from his navel chases a few veins down his v-line, to below his waistband.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He quips in a mocking tone. You roll your eyes as he collapses back over you again, smiling into the kiss.

Exploratory hands roam every inch of each other’s bodies. His muscular, firm pecs press against your perky, cute tits. Warm, callused palms run up and down your waist, down to your hips, where they trace around to the front of your sweatshorts. Caleb lightly teases a finger underneath the drawstring.

“Is this okay?” His eyes find yours, full of want and hunger.

“Yes.” And his fingers immediately dip into your sweatshorts. He freezes for a moment.

“No panties?” He chuckles.

“It’s bad for your pH to wear panties to bed.” You retort, cheeky grin spanning your face. “And I didn’t know you were gonna show up and cry on my porch!”

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?” His boyish smile making his eyes crinkle.

“Nope.” You taunt, popping the “p” in emphasis.

“Cruel, cruel woman.” His smile beams as he presses his face in your neck, hand disappearing under your waistband.

Greedy kisses explore your neck as his long, dexterous fingers trace up and down your wet slit. Using his middle and ring fingers to draw featherlight circles on your clit. Caleb lifts his head to watch your expressions.

Your mouth slightly agape as quiet pants escape you. Your eyebrows pinches together in concentration, trying to be as silent as possible.

“You gotta tell me if I’m doing good, I— I’ve never done this before.” He hesitates for a second before coming clean with you.

“Yes, just keep going.” You gasp as he increases the pressure on the little bundle of nerves. His two fingers move down to circle your drooling hole, his thumb taking their place on your clit.

“Christ, you’re fucking soaked.” Caleb braces his free forearm beside your head. When his fingers finally push into your pussy, he can’t help but smile at your cute little gasps. “Feels good?” Your eyes squeeze shut as you nod mindlessly.

The hand that’s not scissoring your insides comes to pinch your cheeks together.

“Nuh-uh, Pips. Use your words like a big girl.” Your eyes open to see his smug expression, and it makes you blush even harder.

“I want to fuck you, Caleb.” He tries not to laugh too loud at your muffled request.

“I know, baby. Just a little longer.” He teases as his fingers continue to pump in and out of your squelching pussy.

The pressure from his thumb on your clit is dizzying. His two thick fingers massaging your walls are driving you wild. You want more.

Your small hand trails down his torso to try and dig into his sweatpants. With one hand, he grabs both of your wrists and pins them above his head.

“If you touch my dick right now, I am going to cum in my pants.” He states, not a hint of embarrassment in his voice. You whine at his rejection.

“Caaleeebb…” you whimper, that knot building in your tummy.

“Just cum for me. Cum for me one time and then I can fuck you. Okay?” His thumb moves and little faster, fingers driving a little deeper. “Let go, baby. Just let go.” He’s muttering against the side of your face, his own hips starting to buck erratically again.

Your nails dig into the sheets as your orgasm barrels towards you. All it takes is another soft kiss from Caleb, and the knot snaps. He swallows your moans with a bruising kiss, fingers still working you. When the pressure begins to dull, your hips instinctually buck away from his hand, clit too sensitive.

Caleb smiles ear to ear, obviously very proud of his handiwork. You pant and cover your face, embarrassment taking over. He pulls your hands away from your face, lacing your fingers together.

“Ready for more?” He grins as kiss after kiss is pressed to your cheeks, your jaw, your forehead.

“Mm, yeah…” You moan into a kiss, mind still a little fuzzy from your orgasm. Small, shaky hands start to push at his sweatpants, until Caleb gets the hint and pulls his sweats and boxers down in one go.

boy nextdoor!Caleb who is so achingly hard in your bed right now. Pretty, pink-tipped cock that is so fucking fat, it’s struggling to stand upright. Slightly curved upwards, veins pulsing as they dance upwards from base to tip. A dark, well groomed patch of hair dusting his base, sprawling out from the happy trail leading from his belly button.

You barely have time to admire before he’s placing a quick kiss to your navel and pulling your shorts off, too. Heavy thighs push against yours, coercing your legs to go up and over his elbows. A few thrusts have his leaking dick sliding through your wet folds.

“Wait.” He pauses, sitting back on his haunches. “Do you have a condom?” You blink up at him, the question totally pulling you from the moment.

“Why the fuck would I have condoms in my childhood bedroom?” You retort, moving to sit back on your elbows.

“I don’t fucking know what you were doing in high school!”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You say that like you weren’t attached to my fucking hip!” You’re whispering-yelling in each other’s faces now.

“You could have hooked up with that water polo prick for all I know!” Caleb is smiling. When is he not smiling?

“Don’t mention another guy when you’re about to fuck me! And I didn’t even kiss him, by the way!”

“I’m not going to fuck you if we can’t find a fucking condom! Don’t you remember anything from sex ed?”

“I’m on the pill, you moron!” He blinks down at you before running a hand through his hair.

“You could have lead with that!”

“Can you just fucking put it in?”

“Well, are you clean?”

“I’ve never fucking had sex with anyone!”

…

“Really?” He doesn’t mean it insultingly, like he doesn’t believe you. It’s more so said like he’s surprised.

“Yes, really. Can you stop interrogating me and just fuck me already?” He smirks to himself. “Stop smiling like that!”

“Like what?” He braces himself over you again and begins stroking his dick.

“Like… I don’t know! All smug and shit.” Your voice wavers when you feel his cock notch at your wet hole.

“You wanted me to be the one to fuck you for the first time, huh?” A kiss to your neck, before sucking another hickey. A small gasp escapes you when his tip breaches your winking hole, already squeezing him so tight. Caleb lets out a quiet groan. “Wanted your Caleb to take your little virginity.”

His fat cock slowly pushes in, your walls clamping down like a vice. A hand reaches down to rub your clit.

“Come on, let me in.” Moving to sit upright as one hand continues to work your little bundle of nerves, while the other pushes a leg up towards your chest. Pupils dilated as he watches his length disappear into you.

The stimulation on your clit has your hole softening for him, letting him slide all the way to the base. He moves both of your legs to rest on his elbows, in awe of the sight of you two connected.

“Holy shit.” He groans, throwing his head back.

“Caleb, fucking move.” You urge him, trying to move your hips for any kind of friction.

“Just… give me a second.” Thick cock splitting you open, your chest heaves in time with his. After a few moments, his hands come to brace on either side of you, legs still hooked over his elbows. His hips begin to gently thrust into you, cock coming out only an inch or two before sliding back in.

“Harder, Caleb.” You moan, pulling him into a kiss with a hand on his nape. He can’t help but moan in your open mouth.

“You’re gonna squeeze my dick off.” He grumbles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. With each thrust, he pulls out just a little more, until he’s sliding out nearly to his tip before pushing back in. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

“Better than your dreams?” You grin, still panting with each thrust. Caleb lets out a breathy laugh before pressing his face into your neck.

“Shut up.” He emphasizes with a particularly hard thrust, earning a loud moan from you. Your hand comes to cover your mouth, terrified of being heard. “Next time, I wanna hear you scream my name so loud.”

Next time. Your heart warms at the idea of there being a “next time.”

“Caaleeeb,” you whine.

“Yeah, Pips?”

Pips. The nickname he gave you when you were 7 at the summer county fair and you weren’t tall enough to ride any of the rides.

The contrast of the nostalgic name being used as a pet name in a time like this. When you’re both 19 and he’s rearranging your guts. It’s jarring.

“I love you, Caleb.”

His jaw drops open as an unfiltered groan escapes. You throw a hand over his mouth to muffle it.

“I love you so much, Caleb.” His eyes are so soft and full of yearning, mouth still covered as he drops his forehead onto your shoulder. “Never wanna leave you again…”

Thrusts turning animalistic and desperate, Caleb bites down on your shoulder to stifle his noises.

“I wanna cum together, baby. I’m so close.” You whisper in his ear, feeling him nod against your collarbone. His hips stutter once, twice, three times before you feel his warmth flood your pussy. The feeling of him filling you up so generously pushes you into your second orgasm of the night. You bite down on the back of your hand to keep quiet.

Caleb slumps on top of you, panting hard. His hair is damp with sweat, face totally red and glowy. You run a nail down his spine, and he shivers as he pulls out and rolls to your side.

“Fucking hell.” His gaze is fixed on the ceiling as he comes down from his high. “Does this mean you forgive me?” He laughs, turning his head to look at you. You shove his chest.

“I think you still owe me big time, crybaby.” A playful grin pulling your smile from ear to ear. He turns to his side, propping his head up on his elbow.

“I thought girls were into the emotional guy!” He bickers, smoothing a hand over your waist, trying not to openly ogle the mess between your legs.

“I’m kidding,” you push his hair out of his face. “Your big show was very sweet.” The hand on your waist pulls you into his embrace. “What would you have done if I didn’t open the door?” He rubs his chin in exaggerated thought.

“To be honest, that wasn’t even an option in my head. I probably would have slept on your porch until someone found me.”

“You’re such a weirdo.”

“You love it.” He smiles and pulls you into a soft kiss. After a short-lived makeout, Caleb moves to stand up.

“What kind of guy would I be if I didn’t clean up my girl?” He snorts, pulling his boxers back on. “Be right back.” And with a wink, he’s silently sliding out of your bedroom.

His girl. Caleb’s girl. You turn over and bury your face in the pillow to keep from squealing.

boy nextdoor!Caleb returns a few minutes later with a glass of ice water and a damp cloth. A sheepish, embarrassed grin on his face.

“I don’t think your Dad ever went back to sleep. I just ran into him in the kitchen.”

Before you can ask, your face heats up as you see him noticing what effect he's having on you. “You're so cute,” he says. “So. You really aren't hungry?”

“Does any version of Caleb exist that isn't obsessed with what I eat? You really are him, huh? I already ate. He meal-preps for me every week.”

He looks pleased by that. “If I don't have to hunt...” he lifts you up & carries you to the couch, “what do you want me to do?”

Instead of doing anything alarming, he starts braiding your hair. A few minutes later, he's secured it into two intricate braided space buns adorned with long decorative strands. You check your reflection in your phone camera and immediately fall in love with the hairstyle.

“Oh. Uh... if you want to go outside, you'll definitely need different clothes. I finished work for the day, so I've got free time.” “YOU WORK?” He sounds genuinely horrified. “HE MAKES YOU DO LABOUR WORK?”

“Huh? I don't have to work. Caleb would happily keep me at home and provide for me forever, but he can't exactly stop me.” “He can't stop you?” the Netherlord frowns, “is he that weak?” You look at him confused. The Netherlord furrows his eyebrows.

“Come here,” he pulls you into his lap, “let me take care of you.” “How exactly are you planning to do that?” you ask as you can feel his hard length underneath you. “First,” he says and slides his hand down your pants, “I need to make sure your basic needs are met.”

— At the same time, in the Nether Realm —

“I'm hungry.” Your Netherlord counterpart stands beside Linkon Caleb at the lotus pond, making demands with absolute confidence.

Caleb glances around helplessly. “How am I supposed to feed you here? Do I need to hunt?” “Cultivate with your baby sister,” you demand.

His eyes widen. “Do what… with MY WHAT?” His whole body stiffens in shock… although shock isn’t the only thing making him stiff.

Of course, if "unwinding" meant cuddling on the couch, watching a movie, and demolishing a box of chocolates, you wouldn't complain. But you'd seen the hunger in Valko's eyes the last few nights when she was able to finally collapse in bed next to you. You knew your wolf would be hungry for more than just sweets.

As soon as you got home from work, you freshened up and changed. You donned a lightweight dress Valko bought for you a couple weeks ago for a date night that had to keep being postponed. Light teal fabric fell to just above your knees. Darker thread decorated the hem, featuring embroidered leaves and vines.

Browsing your jewelry box- a new one, that you acquired out of necessity with Valko's tendency to make jewelry for you- you slid a couple bangles on each wrist, the most recent of her creations. As you paused for a moment to gentle shake your wrists and listen to the metal clinking together, you heard the door to your apartment open.

(There were times when you'd spend days or a week at each other's places- you had a feeling the "moving in together" conversation was coming soon.)

You frowned and glanced down at the clock on your nightstand. You hadn't expected Valko to be home for another hour. But her voice drifted down the hall, calling your name. Her meetings must have actually ended early!

You hurried out of your bedroom, rounding the corner and smiling at the sight of your girlfriend at the door.

Her coat was already on a hook, leaving her in black slacks, heels, and a dark gray button-down. Your eyes drifted down to her rolled up sleeves, and a few months ago, you would've been embarrassed at the physical reaction to staring at her muscular arms, but you'd long since accepted your fate.

Valko looked up, her amber gaze meeting yours, and the tension from the day melted away. Her eyes lit up as you rushed forward, hugging her tightly. Her arms wrapped around you like an anchor, and she buried her face in the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath.

"Welcome home," you said, pulling back slightly, and yep, there they were- a pair of perked ears and a wagging tail, the same color as her short hair.

You reached up and gently rubbed one of her ears, and Valko hummed and leaned into your touch, pressing her nose against her wrist and taking another slow breath.

"The last meeting of the day ended just in time," she murmured, taking your hand and guiding it down to her lips, kissing your palm. "I thought I'd go feral, right in the middle of the conference room."

"That bad? What's the board up to now?" you asked, frowning. But Valko shook her head, closing her eyes.

"Later. I don't want to think about them right now," she said, nuzzling your palm one last time before releasing your hand and looking down at you. "You're wearing the dress I got you."

You hummed, pulling away to do a small spin and lifting your hands to show off the bracelets on your wrists.

"These, too," you added sweetly. "Do you like them?"

Valko groaned and ran a hand through her short hair and down her face. Her eyes momentarily flicked up to the ceiling before drifting back down to you, following the fabric down your body.

"I've been home for a minute and you're already killing me," she said, in a deep voice that sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. "Come here."

Your face reddened and you stepped forward. Valko immediately closed the rest of the gap, her large hands settling on your hips as she pulled you in and pressed a desperate kiss to your lips. Her tongue slid into your mouth, and you hummed when you felt the round, metal piercing there.

"You're- not hungry for dinner?" you gasped out teasingly when her lips traveled down to your neck.

She gently bit at the skin there, not enough to break skin, but enough for a quiet whimper to escape your lips.

"Later," she growled into your skin, biting again at your collarbone. "I'll order something in."

Her hands slid down to the backs of your thighs and you yelped as she scooped you off the ground. You wrapped your legs around her waist and your arms around her neck, laughing as she nuzzled her face against yours, her short hair tickling your cheeks.

Valko kissed what seemed like every square inch of your face as she carried you to your bedroom. When you were able to intercept her lips, you kissed back with just as much vigor, savoring her taste, but catching her was a difficult feat.

Kicking the door shut behind her, Valko walked you to your bed. You tensed, bracing to be tossed down onto the mattress, but Valko instead turned and sat on the edge of the bed. You straddled her lap, your legs on either side of her muscular thighs. The teal fabric of your dress rode up, and Valko's fingers danced along the embroidered edge, grabbing and squeezing your thighs to pull you down tighter against her body.

You rolled your hips down, grinding on her thighs, and you couldn't help but huff out a small laugh when you heard her tail thumping on the bed behind her. Her grip on your thighs slid up just beneath your dress and tightened, her nails digging into your skin.

Her lips traveled down to your chest, kissing and licking and biting at the skin just above where your tits were covered by thin teal fabric. The feeling of her cool tongue piercing sliding along your skin sent shivers down your spine. Your hands flew up to her arms, grasping her biceps, and the feeling of her muscles flexing beneath your fingers sent arousal jolting down to your body.

"Val-" you gasped when her nails slid across your thighs again, leaving faint lines that almost immediately faded.

Your hands dropped down to grab at her wrists, and she allowed you to pull them up to your hips. You pressed them down, tightening her grip on the sides of your dress, and rolled your hips down onto her thighs again.

"Please," you whimpered, sliding your fingers down to her fingernails and pressing them into the soft teal fabric. "Please, want you."

Valko had the nerve to laugh, raising an eyebrow and cocking her head. She met your desperate gaze and smirked, raising a hand to caress one of your cheeks.

"Aw, my girl is needier than I am," she cooed. Her voice was teasing, but you could tell from the tension in her body that she was just as close to snapping as you were. "Want me to rip this dress right off you?"

You nodded frantically, the thought of her tearing the fabric away from your body making you feel like you were melting. But Valko hummed and then shook her head.

"We'll have to rain check on that," she said. "I just got you that dress, and I haven't even gotten to take you on a date in it yet. You'll have to wait until next time."

You would've huffed in frustration, but the dark glint in her amber eyes told you she would make sure to follow through on that promise. Instead, you nodded, arching your back as Valko's hands wrapped around behind you and slowly unzipped the dress.

"So pretty for me," Valko breathed as the fabric fell away, exposing your bare chest. "God, look at you."

She let go of the fabric, letting the dress pool around your hips as she leaned forward and kissed at your breasts. She took a moment to lick at each of your nipples, letting the metal of her piercing slide over them and make you shudder.

"Please, Valko," you begged, nearly out of breath. Valko growled into your skin and tightened her grip on your waist before flipping you over, shoving you onto the bed and yanking your dress the rest of the way down, taking your panties with it. You shivered when you felt the wetness of your cunt exposed to the open air.

She tossed the fabric aside and leaned over you, pressing another desperate kiss to your lips before pulling away. She grabbed you by your hips and pushed you further up the bed until your head rested on a pillow, then she took each of your wrists in her hands and pulled them up over your head.

Your face reddened and you felt a spike of arousal when she pulled your arms up, leaving you exposed. She was still entirely dressed, which was completely unfair, but before you could comment on that issue, you heard the clinking of metal.

You twisted your head back and your stomach swooped when you saw that Valko had used her evol to reshape your bangles, cuffing you to the bed's headboard. Instinctively, you tugged at them. The metal pressed into your skin, but it didn't give.

Being restrained sent your heart fluttering, and Valko laughed quietly, sliding down your body, trailing her fingers down to your pussy and running her index finger through the wetness there. She brought it up to her face and took a deep breath, smelling it, and you whimpered and rubbed your thighs together desperately at the way her eyes darkened.

She slid the finger into her mouth, licking it dry, before stepping off the bed and beginning to undress. You watched with wide eyes as she made a show of taking off her business clothes, sliding her shirt down her torso and pulling her bra up to show off her breasts before removing it. Her pants and panties came off in one swoop, leaving her completely bared.

You didn't bother trying to hide your gaze as it swept over your girlfriend's muscular physique. Everything about her was big and powerful, and it was delicious to behold. Your hips instinctively jerked up off the bed as you rubbed your thighs together again.

"Need you, please," you begged, your breath catching as Valko climbed back onto the mattress. You moved to grab at her, but were reminded of your predicament when your wrists strained against your cuffs. You could do nothing but wait as she straddled your hips and leaned down, propping herself up on lean forearms and kissing you again.

She ran her hands all along your body, never entering but teasing at your pussy, squeezing at your thighs, groping your tits. Your moans and whimpers were swallowed up by her mouth. Each time she ghosted your clit or pinched your nipples, you'd cry out and pull at your restraints to no avail.

The helplessness of being trapped beneath Valko and unable to even touch her was setting your body alight, and you could feel yourself growing wetter and more desperate, but Valko still didn't press her fingers into your aching pussy or go down there herself to take care of you with her mouth. Instead, she pulled away, her ears and tail flicking in excitement even though you whined at the loss.

"Why'd you stop?" you asked desperately, your body writhing up off the bed in desperation. "Please, I need more."

Valko leaned down a pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips.

"I know, I know, I can smell how much you want me. So wet for me. Need your mouth, baby, can you do that for me?" she panted, her cheeks dusted red and her pupils blown wide.

You shivered at the tone of her voice and nodded excitedly, your heart leaping in your throat. She smirked at your reaction and her tail thumped happily against your thighs.

"Good girl," she praised, and you swear you could have cum right then and there.

She shuffled up, resting her hands on the headboard and straddling your head with her thick thighs. You kissed at whatever skin you could reach as she got situated above you. Once she stilled, you looked up.

Valko was stunning. Her short maroon hair was a mess, and you had a magnificent view from below of her shoulder muscles and tits. Her stomach swooped down into her bush and pussy, hovering only a few inches from your lips.

Valko's eyes looked feral with need, but she softened when she met her gaze.

"You okay?" she asked gently, and you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, ma'am," you replied teasingly. But based on the flash in Valko's eyes, you might have just unlocked something that would need to be addressed later.

She lowered down and moaned when your lips met her pussy, letting you lick and suck lightly at her before lowering further. Your lips, your face, your whole being was all Valko.

Your nose buried into her bush as you sucked desperately at her clit, fueled by the gasps and moans above you. Your wrists kept digging into your cuffs, desperate to reach up and touch her, but unable to.

You slid your tongue into Valko's pussy and she hissed as pleasure surged through her. She grinded down onto you, rolling her stuttering hips.

"Good girl, fuck- that's my girl," she babbled. You moaned and slid your mouth upward as you felt her thighs tensing around you. You sucked harshly at her clit and she cursed before cumming on your tongue.

She kept grinding down onto you throughout her eye, gasping and shaking above you before finally pulling away. Her chest heaved as she quickly leaned down, licking at your face and cleaning up the wetness there. You panted and pressed your head back into the pillow, exposing your neck.

"So beautiful for me," Valko murmured, sending goosebumps down your spine.

Sharp teeth gently bit at the soft skin of your neck, trailing down to your tits, then your stomach, as Valko slid down the bed and settled between your trembling thighs.

"Want me to take care of you?" Valko asked sweetly, pressing her face into your inner thigh and sniffing at your skin. "Look at your pussy. You're soaked for me."

You whimpered and pulled at your cuffs as she finally lowered her face down to your pussy, her hands coming up to hold your shaking thighs open as she slowly licked the skin there, up and down.

Valko swallowed up the wetness seeping from your cunt, but it was almost immediately replaced as your body yearned for her. She avoided touching your clit until tears sprung in your eyes before truly diving in.

She licked and sucked at your clit like her life depended on it, and she didn't hold back any sounds, moaning and growling into your cunt. It felt like each sound she made was sending vibrations up your-

Your eyes suddenly blew wide and you sat up as much as you could while restrained to the headboard. Your thighs instinctively tried to close, but Valko held them open and looked up at you with blazing eyes.

There were vibrations. You gasped as another round of vibrations hit your clit. Your limbs jolted and straightened as you twisted from the overstimulation.

"Wha- what?" you gasped out, barely able to form the word.

Valko laughed, the kind of laugh that had more wetness gushing out of your pussy, and stuck her tongue out.

There, you could see her piercing glistening with a mix of your slick and her spit, but a slight green haze surrounded it, causing the metal to vibrate. Your lips trembled when you realized she was using her evol to make her piercing vibrate.

"Val-"

Before you could string together a coherent sentence, Valko dove back down, devouring your pussy with newfound life, never letting up on the vibrations coming from her piercing. She pressed her tongue against your clit roughly before dragging it down and plunging it in and out of your cunt, drawing cries and whimpers from your lips as the shocks of the vibrations set your nerves ablaze.

Sometimes, Valko liked to take her time with you, but not tonight. She kept bullying your clit at a pace that would've already had you falling apart, but the added stimulation from the vibrations sent you hurtling to the edge. Tears slipped down your cheeks as your pants turned into desperate cries.

"Val, Valko, please!" you wailed, pulling frantically at your cuffs. "Please, please, I'm-"

"You close?" Valko gasped, pausing and raising up off the bed to meet your gaze. "Come on, baby. Cum for me."

She dove back down and pressed her vibrating piercing directly on your clot, and you came apart with a scream, pulsing around her mouth as she licked you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. Valko kept lapping away at your skin, growling and flattening her ears when your thighs tried to close until your shaking and crying finally had her pulling away and giving mercy to your oversensitive pussy.

"V-Val, Val," you panted, going limp into the mattress and pillows, your cuffs clanking as your arms felt on either side of your head. "S-so good, oh my god."

Valko wiped her face on the back of her hand, taking heaving breaths and gathering herself as she crawled back up to you. You whined and reached up, kissing at her breasts as she reached above you. With a flash of her evol, your cuffs transformed back into bangles and you were free of your restraints, but you made no effort to move.

Valko kissed your temples, pressing a hand to the side of your face.

"So beautiful, when you've fallen apart for me," she breathed. She reached up and gently took your wrists, pulling them up and inspecting the red marks there from your struggles against your restraints.

She sat on the mattress next to you, reaching to your bedside table and digging through the too drawer before pulling out a small tub of cream. Carefully, like she was handling a priceless work of art, Valko rubbed cream into your wrists. You hummed with content as the sting was dulled.

"How are you feeling?" Valko asked quietly, looking down at you with nothing but pure love in her gaze. "I know that was kind of hard and fast."

"I feel amazing," you replied dreamily. "... I also feel exhausted."

"I bet," Valko laughed, rubbing a hand up and down your thigh. "Did you like my surprise? I've been waiting to use my evol like that for a long time."

"It was amazing and absolutely evil," you said accusingly.

Valko laughed and rolled her eyes, smirking and flashing her sharp canines.

"Oh, c'mon, I went easy on you for the first time. Only made you cum once," she said.

Your stomach got butterflies at the thought of staying cuffed down, completely at her mercy for however many orgasms she wanted to wring out of you. For now, though, after a long week, you were fine with just the one.

Valko leaned down and pressed a kiss to your stomach before carefully getting up and stepping into the bathroom attached to your bedroom. She returned with a warm, wet washcloth in one hand and two bottles of water in the other.

She uncapped one and held it to your lips. You quickly drank down almost half of it in one go before Valko pulled it away. She smiled softly and wiped at your lips with her thumb before she took a swig of her own bottle and sat next to your hips.

Over the next few minutes, Valko alternated between wiping away the mess between your thighs and helping you drink more water. Once you were relatively cleaned off and hydrated, she crawled into bed next to you.

She pressed her bare chest against your back, spooning you close to her body and pulling the blanket up over you both. Her hands traveled down to yours, idly spinning the bangles on your wrists.

"You're okay? You're not too sore?" she asked again, pressing her lips to the back of your head.

You nodded and turned in her hold, pressing your chest to hers and tangling your legs together. You pressed a kiss to her lips before collapsing back onto your pillow.

"I'm okay. I'm ready to snuggle with my big, bad wolf," you laughed, nuzzling her neck. "Are you okay?"

Valko nodded, melting into your hold and nuzzling you back.

“helloooo im still on the call y’know,” your friend brings you back to reality. you giggle, apologizing before focusing at the task on hand once more. “what’s his address? send it, let’s see what kind of neighborhood he lives in,” your friend wiggles her brows at you and you immediately screenshot the house and send a link over.

your fingers move quicker than your eyes, too used to her contact being the first to pop up on the share button. you’d forgotten how often you’d been sending things to caleb.

“did you get it?” you ask, already scrolling down the street of his house in skyhaven.

“no? you haven’t sent me anything yet,” she replies easily. the color drains from your face as you open your message app.

[1 screenshot sent]

[1 link attatched]

all sent to caleb.

“oh my god, I’m so fucked dude,” your eyes widen, heart falling through your ass as the one word you now dreaded the most appeared in conversation. read.

“why what happened?”

“I sent him his own address. I’ve never once been over.” the mortification is obvious in your face, your friend immediately mirrors your expression.

“maybe you can unsend it?”

me: oh my god i swear this isn’t what it looks like

“he read it- fuck he’s typing oh my god I’m so fucked it’s so over for me, I’m so fucking—”

caleb :P : i live in the next house over not that one. 104, not 105

“holy fuck,” you mumbled, heart racing as you read his text over for the nth time, your friend shrieks over the phone. okay maybe you’re not completely done for.

caleb sits in bed, smiling at his screen.

you’d finally taken the bait, followed the trail he’d left of himself online. pretty posed pictures, a perfectly curated account. everything you liked and everything you wanted. he put just enough information for you to find everything you’d wanted if you dug juuust a bit, if you were like him. and now he knows you were like him.

caleb is relieved, shutting the live feed off from the camera he’d installed in your bedroom. you’ll be over at his tomorrow, he’ll make sure of it.

masterlist

He’d buried his face into your hair, nuzzled you until you laughed, kissed your cheek, and spent a solid five minutes trying to convince you to come downstairs and eat breakfast with him. You’d mumbled something about ten more minutes. He’d accepted defeat. Then he’d returned after washing the dishes. Ten more minutes. He’d come back again after finishing his morning run. Ten more minutes. Then he’d showered. Changed clothes. Probably reorganized half the house just because he couldn’t sit still.

When he came back a fourth time, you’d stubbornly repeated the exact same answer without even opening your eyes, “ten more minutes, babe…”

But apparently…Valko had finally decided your ten minutes had expired.

“Baby giiirl~” his voice echoed up from the bottom of the staircase, loud enough that you could hear the grin stretching across his dimpled face before you ever saw him.

A second later, the entire house seemed to vibrate beneath the unmistakable thunder of his footsteps as he bounded upstairs with all the subtlety of a charging bear.

“I’m comin’ for yaaa!” He sang cheerfully while climbing the stairs two at a time, “it’s noon already, you better be up by the time I get there! Let’s go, lazy!”

“Noooo…” You groaned dramatically, already bracing yourself for whatever menace he’d decided to become this time.

In a desperate act of self-preservation, you grabbed the ridiculously fluffy blanket he’d insisted on buying because it was “the softest thing he’d ever touched” and yanked it completely over your head. You wrapped yourself into it as tightly as humanly possible, curling into a stubborn little ball while clutching every edge beneath you like your life depended on it.

“It’s Sunday, for fuck’s sake!” Your protest dissolved into another dramatic whine the instant you heard footsteps stop outside the bedroom.

Silence. Then the quiet creak of the doorframe as something, more accurately, someone very large, leaned casually against it.

“Rise and shine, princess!” He called cheerfully as he wandered farther into the bedroom, sounding entirely too awake for a Sunday afternoon, “c’mon, at least keep me some company while I do laundry, I need stimulation. It’s sheet day!”

A miserable groan escaped you as you tightened your grip on the blanket cocooned around your body, clutching the soft fabric with every ounce of stubborn determination you possessed, “Valko, I’m gonna kick your ass if you come any closer…”

A hearty laugh answered you almost immediately, warm with amusement and entirely unconcerned by the threat.

“Kinda hard to kick my ass from fetal position, don’t ya think?” He teased, “now, c’mere.”

You heard him coming before you felt him. His footsteps stopped beside the bed, and a second later the mattress dipped beneath the considerable weight of one knee as he climbed onto it. The movement rolled gently through the mattress, shifting your tightly curled body despite your best efforts to stay anchored in place. Before long, you felt the familiar warmth of his much larger frame surrounding you as he crawled over, effortlessly boxing you in from every direction until there was nowhere left to retreat.

Even beneath the blanket, you could tell exactly how close he was. The fresh scent of his body wash drifted through the fabric, clean and comforting after his morning shower, while the steady warmth radiating from him seeped through the thick blanket wrapped around you. It was annoyingly pleasant. As much as you wanted to stay grumpy, there was something deeply familiar about the way he always seemed to engulf you completely whenever he climbed into your personal space, his sheer size turning even your most dramatic attempts at hiding into little more than a game.

“Someone made a wet mess again last night…” He murmured teasingly near your ear, his voice softened by the blanket between you as his large hands began searching along the bundled fabric. His fingers traced patiently over the edges until they found the corner you were desperately clinging to above your head, and you immediately tightened your grip with a quiet sound of protest, “I gotta wash the bedsheets, baby. Waterproof doesn’t mean magical. C’mon. Up you go.”

A long, dramatic groan escaped you as you stubbornly tightened your grip on the blanket, digging your fingers deeper into the impossibly soft fabric while you resisted every gentle tug he gave it. The blanket shifted back and forth between the two of you, bunching and stretching as you pulled with all the determination of someone defending their life rather than their Sunday morning sleep. The resistance only seemed to amuse him more. His laughter bubbled out warm and hearty above you, vibrating through the mattress as he leaned his weight into the playful tugging. You bit the inside of your cheek. God damn it. Even this had somehow turned into a game for that giant puppy.

“Ohhh…” He hummed with exaggerated intrigue, drawing the sound out as though he’d just made a groundbreaking discovery, “my stubborn little wolf wants to play tug o’ war with me…”

“No I don’t!” You shot back, punctuating the denial with another stubborn yank that only made the blanket stretch tighter between the two of you.

His laughter only grew richer.

“She’s gonna looose~” he sang smugly, every ounce of his confidence dripping through the playful tease, “unless…”

The tugging stopped. Immediately, your entire body tensed beneath the blanket. That was suspicious. Far too suspicious. You held perfectly still, waiting for whatever ridiculous surprise attack his devious mind had cooked up next. Instead, the comforting weight surrounding you disappeared as you felt him climb off the mattress, followed by the quiet thud of his bare feet meeting the hardwood floor beside the bed. You frowned beneath your blanket fortress.

“First,” Valko mused thoughtfully to himself in the tone of a man narrating an instructional cooking show, “we gotta pack the meat filling into the dough sheet…”

You blinked beneath the blanket, “eh??”

Before you could even process whatever bizarre comparison he’d just invented, his enormous hands descended upon you. They fussed and fluffed at the blanket wrapped around your curled-up body with surprising concentration, patting here, tucking there, gently pressing and reshaping your cocoon until you felt less like a person and more like an oversized dumpling being prepared for the oven. Every affectionate squeeze and adjustment jostled you around inside your blanket prison while he worked with complete seriousness, humming quietly to himself as though this made perfect sense.

“Uh-huh…” He murmured with obvious satisfaction once he’d finished molding your blanket cocoon to his liking. A broad palm landed squarely against your ass with a loud, playful smack before giving it a firm little pat, the touch cushioned comfortably through the thick layers of blanket as he tucked the fabric even tighter around your hips, “yup, gotta make sure the booty is nice and snug so it doesn’t spill out…”

The absolute confidence with which he delivered the line was so utterly ridiculous that you could practically picture the pleased grin stretched across his face, completely convinced he’d just crafted the world’s finest blanket dumpling.

A helpless laugh finally escaped you, the sound muffled beneath the layers of blanket as you wriggled uselessly inside your fluffy prison, “what are you doing, you big dork?”

“Me?” He replied with all the casual confidence in the world, “oh, I’m just making my little rabbit soup dumpling.”

You opened your mouth to ask what on earth that was supposed to mean, but the question never made it out. Without the slightest warning, the entire blanket lurched upward. A startled yelp burst from your lips as the mattress suddenly disappeared beneath you and gravity shifted so abruptly your stomach swooped. One moment you had been safely curled up on the bed, and the next you were suspended completely off the ground, bundled tightly inside the blanket as though you’d been scooped up in the world’s largest sack. The thick fabric cradled you from every side, swaying gently as Valko effortlessly hoisted your cocoon into the air. You couldn’t see a thing beyond the soft folds wrapped around your face, but you could feel yourself dangling there, your weight swinging lightly while he held you as easily as though you weighed nothing at all. You had officially become a rabbit caught in a net.

“Then we gotta seal the dumpling so she can’t paw her way out…” He narrated thoughtfully to himself, sounding absurdly invested in the process.

Before you could protest, you felt yourself slowly turning. The blanket twisted above you where he gripped it, winding tighter and tighter until your little cocoon snugly spiraled around you. The gentle spinning sent your body swaying in lazy circles through the air, and despite every intention of maintaining your dignity, a laugh bubbled uncontrollably out of your chest, “weeee!”

“There she goes,” he chuckled proudly, sounding entirely too pleased with himself as your delighted laughter filled the bedroom, “perfect dumpling integrity.”

Then you felt him brace. It was only the slightest shift in his stance, a tiny adjustment of his footing that you had just enough time to notice before the world tipped sideways again. With effortless care, he lifted your bundled little cocoon higher and tossed you smoothly up over his shoulder. The movement was so practiced, so controlled, that it felt less like being thrown and more like being gently relocated by someone who knew exactly how much strength he possessed. You landed against the broad slope of his upper back with a soft little bounce, your blanket nest cushioning every bit of the impact while your stomach fluttered from the exhilarating change in height.

From inside your blanket fortress, you could feel the sheer breadth of him beneath you. His shoulder was solid, his back impossibly broad, and one large arm kept securely wrapped around the twisted end of the blanket to make absolutely certain his precious dumpling wasn’t going anywhere.

“And then,” he continued with complete satisfaction, “we take the little dumpling downstairs and toss the dough sheet inside the wash.”

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of making a dumpling?” You teased, your laughter still bubbling up as you swayed comfortably over his back.

“Nah,” he answered without missing a beat, laughing to himself as he strolled out of the bedroom with you slung across his broad back like the proudest hunter returning home with his prize. Every easy step made you bounce lightly against him, cushioned by the ridiculously fluffy blanket, “that means I get a nice heaping serving of protein without the carbs. Work smarter, not harder.”

You couldn’t help snorting, “you’re such a meathead! What are you gonna do with me, anyway? Put me on a plate and eat me plain?”

“Plain?” He repeated with exaggerated offense as he rounded the corner into the upstairs hallway, “who says you’re plain? I just have to play with you till you get nice and saucy and wet for me.”

“Ew!” You cackled, your laughter echoing down the quiet hallway.

“Mmm…” He smacked his lips dramatically, clearly entertaining himself far more than he had any right to, “secret dumpling sauce…”

Still chuckling, he carried you a little farther before slowing to a stop outside the laundry closet tucked neatly into the upstairs hallway beside his bedroom. You felt the subtle shift in his stance as he bent his knees, and with the same effortless care he’d shown carrying you, he gently swung your bundled body forward. The blanket cradled you securely as he lowered you toward the floor, every movement smooth enough that you barely felt the transition before your back settled onto the wood with the plush blanket still wrapped snugly around you.

For a moment, all you could see was darkness. The thick folds of blanket surrounded you like a cozy little cave, muffling the world outside until you heard him crouch nearby. Then warm fingers found the edge of your cocoon, and with one playful tug, he peeled the blanket open. Bright afternoon light spilled through the opening, chasing away the darkness as his smiling face appeared above you, framed by tousled auburn hair and that unmistakably dimpled grin he wore whenever he was far too pleased with himself.

“Peekaboo,” he grinned.

You lay there exactly where he’d left you, your knees tucked comfortably against your stomach beneath the cocoon of fluffy blanket while your wrists dangled loosely in front of your chest like tiny rabbit paws. A sleepy, lopsided smile tugged at your lips as you squinted up at him, the bright hallway light spilling around the silhouette of his enormous frame. Sunlight from the nearby windows caught along the edges of his broad shoulders, outlining the powerful build that seemed to fill the doorway all by itself.

He was dressed for a lazy Sunday in nothing more than a pair of loose lounge sweats hanging low on his hips, his broad chest and sculpted torso left completely bare after his morning shower. A pair of thin-framed silver glasses rested over the familiar crooked bridge of his nose, softening his features just enough to make him look unfairly handsome. Your gaze drifted lower as his grin slowly widened, catching on the gleaming tips of the little fangs peeking between his lips the moment he noticed the ridiculous little pose you’d unconsciously curled yourself into.

Neither of you said a word. You didn’t need to. Somewhere along the way, the two of you had become frighteningly good at reading one another. The second his golden eyes lit up with mischief, you already knew you were in trouble. His massive hands swooped toward you without warning, settling against your stomach as easily as though you weighed nothing at all. With effortless strength, he nudged your tucked-up knees aside before his fingertips curled into your sides, scruffing and kneading at your tummy with playful determination. The first ticklish squeeze ripped an involuntary squeal from your throat before dissolving into helpless laughter. You immediately started batting at his forearms with both hands, trying desperately to shove the giant menace away while cackles tumbled uncontrollably out of you.

“V-Val! Stop!” You pleaded.

He laughed right along with you, completely unmoved by your increasingly dramatic attempts to defend yourself. Every time you twisted away from one hand, the other found another vulnerable spot, his wandering fingers dancing across your stomach, your waist, your sides, and your hips with infuriating precision. You writhed beneath him, kicking uselessly on top of the blanket while he effortlessly kept you on your back, his much larger frame making your resistance feel more like an energetic wrestling match than an actual escape attempt. Eventually, through nothing but sheer persistence and an embarrassing amount of flailing, you finally managed to roll away from him. You flopped onto your belly with a triumphant little gasp, convinced you’d escaped.

SMACK!

A startled yelp flew out of you as his broad palm landed squarely over your ass with a loud, playful swat. The impact sent a pleasant sting blooming beneath the thin fabric of your tiny booty shorts, the sensation rippling warmly across your skin as your whole body jolted from the surprise. All the wriggling and wrestling had ridden the snug little shorts perilously high between your cheeks, and the playful smack only made you suddenly, acutely aware of just how crookedly they were sitting.

Before you could even reach back to rescue your poor shorts from the wedgie they’d worked themselves into, Valko’s quick fingers were already there. They hooked playfully beneath the elastic of both your shorts and your panties before you had the slightest chance to react, and with one swift, mischievous tug, he yanked them both down just enough to bare your entire ass to the cool hallway air.

“Mmmm…” He hummed thoughtfully as he bent closer, his grin widening beneath the low bridge of his glasses, “fresh meat.”

“Ow!” You yelped through a burst of helpless laughter, twisting around just in time to feel his fangs nip playfully into the soft curve of your asscheek. The bite wasn’t hard enough to hurt, only enough to leave behind that pleasantly sharp sting that made you squeal and swat wildly behind yourself, your palm smacking uselessly against one of his broad forearms while he laughed above you, “you menace!”

Still giggling, you scrambled onto your feet in a clumsy stumble, nearly tripping over yourself as you bolted down the hallway toward the safety of his bedroom before those enormous arms could wrap around your waist again. Your bare feet slapped against the hardwood while laughter echoed between the walls behind you, and you didn’t have to look back to know he was thoroughly entertained by your dramatic retreat.

“Okay, okay!” You called over your shoulder between laughs, “I’m up already, leave me alone!”

“Atta girl!” He answered triumphantly, his rich laugh following after you with unmistakable satisfaction.

By the time you disappeared into the bedroom, he’d already stooped to scoop the abandoned blanket from the floor, giving the fluffy bundle a practiced shake before tossing it neatly into the washing machine like the entire ridiculous operation had been a complete success.

Still smiling to yourself, you wandered into his bathroom with another sleepy yawn, rubbing at one eye as the last traces of drowsiness slowly began giving way to the afternoon. You reached automatically for the toothbrush he always kept tucked beside his own, the little domestic gesture so familiar now that you hardly thought about it anymore. After brushing your teeth, you stepped beneath the warm spray for a quick shower, letting the water wake you fully before it had a chance to cool while the washing machine worked through its cycle nearby.

Clean, refreshed, and finally feeling halfway human again, you dried yourself off and slipped into a fresh pair of underwear before stealing one of Valko’s oversized T-shirts from the neatly folded stack he’d left in his dresser. The soft fabric swallowed your frame completely, hanging almost to the middle of your thighs and smelling faintly of clean cotton mixed with the unmistakably comforting scent that always seemed to cling to him. It fit less like a shirt and more like a cozy little tent, and if you were being honest, you liked it that way.

When you stepped back into the hallway, you found the redhead bent over beside the open dryer with a laundry basket resting on the floor at his feet. Freshly dried clothes spilled in warm heaps from the drum as he absentmindedly transferred them into the basket, completely focused on his self-appointed Sunday chore. His broad back shifted beneath his movements, muscles rolling effortlessly beneath his skin as he worked, entirely unaware of the quiet footsteps approaching behind him.

A mischievous smile slowly spread across your face. You crept forward as quietly as you could, carefully avoiding the lazy swish of his enormous auburn tail while you reeled your hand back. Your eyes narrowed with exaggerated concentration as you mentally painted the world’s most obvious target across the perfectly toned curve of his ass.

SMACK!

Your palm landed squarely against him with a satisfyingly loud clap, the playful swat making the firm muscle beneath your hand give the tiniest little jiggle. You immediately burst into laughter.

SMACK!

“You havin’ fun back there?” He teased over his shoulder, sounding completely unbothered as he remained bent over in front of the dryer, casually reaching farther inside to retrieve another armful of warm laundry. If anything, he seemed to be making the job easier for you. His enormous auburn tail gave a leisurely swish before deliberately moving itself out of your way, as though politely clearing the target.

SMACK!

“Yeah,” you admitted between helpless giggles, shaking out your tingling hand before lining yourself up again. You couldn’t help noticing the way the tip of his tail wagged ever so slightly beyond his control every time you wound up for another playful swat, the involuntary movement making you grin even wider, “I am, actually.”

You reeled your arm back once more, ready to land another satisfying smack, but before your hand could swing forward, Valko reached behind himself with one absentminded motion and hooked his thumb beneath the waistband of his lounge sweats and briefs. Chuckling to himself, he tugged them down just enough to bare one side of his ass over the curve of his hip, presenting it with such ridiculous confidence that your entire train of thought derailed. The sight alone sent you into another fit of laughter. Your carefully aimed swing dissolved into an uncoordinated flail as your palm landed squarely against the exposed cheek.

SMACK!

The sound echoed loudly through the hallway.

“Pffft,” he snorted, finally glancing back at you over his shoulder with a grin that was equal parts smug and encouraging. He tipped his chin toward you in challenge, his glasses slipping ever so slightly lower along the crooked bridge of his nose, “c’mon, is that the best you’ve got?”

You laughed so hard your stomach hurt, “oh, you’re asking for it now!”

Planting your feet a little wider, you rolled your shoulder dramatically like you were preparing for the most important athletic event of your life. Valko watched the entire performance with obvious amusement, still leaning comfortably against the dryer as one elbow came to rest on top of it. He propped his chin lazily into his palm while his other hand continued holding his waistband down with all the casual confidence in the world, patiently waiting for your next attempt. You narrowed your eyes at him. Then swung.

SMACK!

“There you go,” he chuckled approvingly, barely reacting beyond the pleasant bounce of the impact as a faint flush began blooming across the spot you’d been repeatedly targeting,” that’s better. You can go harder. Don’t chicken out. Don’t be shy.”

His completely shameless confidence only made you laugh harder. Determined not to let him have the last word, you drew your arm back again and put a little more enthusiasm behind the swing this time. Your palm cracked against the growing pink welt with another satisfyingly loud clap, the impact sending a pleasant sting buzzing through your own hand while Valko’s laughter filled the hallway alongside yours.

SMACK!

“Here,” he said as he finally straightened to his full height and turned to face you.

The instant that enormous frame squared up in front of you, towering close enough to steal the light from above, a burst of exhilaration shot through your chest. You gasped on instinct, equal parts thrilled and suspicious as his golden eyes gleamed with unmistakable mischief behind the lenses perched on the crooked bridge of his nose. Every instinct screamed at you to run. You managed exactly one step backward.

His hand caught your wrist with effortless precision, “lemme show you how it’s done.”

“Oh, no—”

Before you could twist free or make a break for it, Valko smoothly spun you around until you were facing the washer. His huge hands immediately engulfed your waist, lifting you clean off the floor as though you weighed next to nothing.

A shriek of helpless laughter burst from your lungs as your feet left the ground, “ahh! No, don’t you dare! Bad dog! Bad!”

“What?” He laughed, sounding thoroughly entertained as he settled you belly-first across the gently rumbling lid of the washing machine. The steady vibration hummed beneath your stomach while he leaned comfortably over you, gathering both of your wrists together behind your back in one broad hand. His grip was secure without ever being rough, holding you just firmly enough that every attempt to wriggle free became completely futile, “I’m just picking my favorite chew toy up off the ground.”

“Oh, very fucking clever,” you huffed another laugh, squirming dramatically beneath him while trying to kick backward with one foot, but before you could land even the slightest retaliation, his free hand found the oversized shirt draped over your hips. The soft fabric slid smoothly upward, bunching around your lower back before his fingers hooked the waistband of your underwear. With one quick, playful tug, he pulled them just low enough to bare your whole ass to the cool air of the hallway.

Your breath caught. Then—

SMACK!

A startled yelp escaped you as his broad palm landed squarely against your asscheek in one firm, playful swat. The impact bloomed into a pleasantly warm sting that spread beneath your skin almost instantly, making your toes curl as the sensation rippled through you. The force of it sent your body jolting just enough that you couldn’t help biting back another laugh, your heart racing from the surprise almost as much as from the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Damn,” he said, sounding genuinely impressed, “you hear that?”

You could hear the grin in his voice before you even felt his hand return. His broad palm settled over the lingering warmth with instinctive tenderness, slowly rubbing the spot he’d just swatted. The soothing caress melted across your skin in slow, comforting strokes, the roughness of his calloused palm contrasting pleasantly against the lingering heat until the playful sting softened beneath the warmth of his touch. His hand lingered there for a moment longer, gently smoothing over the flushed skin with quiet affection that somehow made your entire body relax despite yourself. Then, with absolutely no warning whatsoever—

SMACK!

A helpless giggle escaped you as you bit down lightly on your lower lip, your body jolting instinctively from the lingering warmth still throbbing across your skin. Acting entirely on impulse, you kicked one foot backward until the sole of it bumped against the hard wall of his thigh, more playful than forceful, and then, seized by another wonderfully terrible idea, you mischievously adjusted your aim a little higher.

Valko caught on immediately. His laughter cut off into an incredulous gasp as one massive hand shot down and wrapped securely around your ankle before your foot could get anywhere near its intended destination.

“You trying to kick me in the nuts?!” He exclaimed over the sound of your uncontrollable laughter, tightening his grip just enough to keep your foot suspended harmlessly in the air, “are you insane?!”

“Oopsie,” you answered through another fit of giggles, making absolutely no effort to sound apologetic.

SMACK!

A sharp yelp dissolved into laughter as his broad palm landed squarely against your ass once again, the playful swat sending another pleasant bloom of warmth rippling across your skin. The sting lingered only for a heartbeat before his hand softened, the same palm that had delivered the smack immediately smoothing over the welting skin in slow, soothing strokes. The contrast made you melt despite yourself, your muscles relaxing beneath the familiar roughness of his calloused hand as it gently caressed away the lingering heat.

“Naughty girl,” he laughed, shaking his head at your antics. Still holding your ankle captive, he leaned farther over you until the comforting warmth of his body surrounded you from behind. His broad chest hovered close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and the loose fabric of his lounge sweats brushed teasingly against the backs of your thighs every time either of you shifted. His free hand gave your ass an indulgent squeeze, kneading the soft curve beneath his palm while a content little hum escaped him, “don’t forget who’s trapping who right now…”

“Oh nooo,” you replied with exaggerated innocence, your voice dripping with theatrical concern as another laugh threatened to bubble free. All your squirming had worked your underwear even farther down your thighs, and as you wriggled beneath him again, you became acutely aware of the warmth pressing comfortably against the curve of your ass through the thin fabric of his sweats. The firm outline of his cock against you betrayed exactly how much he was enjoying the ridiculous wrestling match the two of you had turned laundry day into, and the realization only widened your grin, “the big bad wolf is gonna eat me while I’m stuck on top of his laundry machine…”

He snorted, the sound warm with amusement as he rested a little more of his weight against the washer, “that sounds like the start of a really cheesy porno.”

You burst into loud, unrestrained laughter.

“Shut up!” You cackled, twisting your head just enough to grin back at him over your shoulder, “this is the part where you’re supposed to hold me hostage while you eat me out.”

He barked out a laugh, genuine delight flashing across his face at your shameless demand, and before you could so much as brace yourself, his broad hands were already guiding you. With surprising gentleness for a man so impossibly large, he maneuvered you sideways across the top of the rumbling washing machine until you were lying comfortably on your stomach, stretched horizontally over the warm lid while its steady vibration hummed pleasantly beneath your body. He stepped back behind you once you were settled, taking a moment simply to admire the view in front of him before he slipped his glasses into the pocket of his sweats and his hands inevitably found their way back to you. They always did.

His enormous palms settled low beneath the curve of your ass before slowly, indulgently kneading their way upward, squeezing from the bottom to the top with obvious appreciation. Every slow pass of his hands molded greedily to your flesh, his fingers spreading wide as though he wanted to feel every inch of you beneath his palms. The rough warmth of his callouses contrasted deliciously against your softer skin, and the leisurely massage sent little shivers dancing beneath the surface as he shamelessly admired what he was holding.

“Oh…” He murmured, his teasing voice carrying a note of quiet fascination as his thumbs sank into the plushness of your ass. They lingered there for a heartbeat before gradually drifting lower, hovering so close to your pussy that your body reacted before your mind did. You felt yourself clench instinctively, your breath catching as anticipation curled warmly through your stomach, “is that what you want from me?”

His thumbs pressed gently outward. The pressure slowly encouraged your ass apart, and with it, your pussy spread between your thighs in a soft, embarrassingly audible little squelch that echoed through the otherwise quiet hallway. Heat rushed straight to your face, and you couldn’t stop yourself from biting lightly against the tip of your thumb to smother an involuntary giggle. Behind you, Valko let out a slow, appreciative sigh that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest, his hands giving another greedy squeeze as he continued holding you open beneath his gaze. Every tiny movement of his thumbs subtly shifted your body, and you could feel him watching with complete, unabashed fascination as the motion exposed more of your fully bared pussy to his hungry eyes. The intensity of his attention alone sent a tingling rush of erotic delight humming through your entire body.

“You want the big bad wolf to have a treat and eat your pussy?” He asked, his voice dropping into a lower, richer register that wrapped warmly around every word.

The question sent another pleasant shiver racing up your spine. His thumbs wandered lower again, leaving the soft curve of your ass to find your parted lips instead. He hooked them there with maddening patience before slowly dragging them along the length of your slit in one indulgent stroke. The intimate touch drew an immediate sigh from your lips as warmth pooled lower in your stomach, your body relaxing beneath his hands almost despite yourself while he explored you with quiet reverence.

You reached behind yourself without hesitation, your own fingertips finding purchase as you deliberately hooked your parts farther apart for him. The movement earned an immediate, unmistakable sound of appreciation from Valko, somewhere between a pleased hum and a quietly awed breath, and the reaction alone made a smile tug at your lips.

“No,” you answered, your voice dripping with playful authority, “I want you to just fucking stand there and just drool over it, Valko. Get on your knees and feast on it already!”

“Damn!” He laughed, thoroughly entertained by your bossiness as he surrendered without the slightest argument. Still chuckling to himself, he obediently lowered himself to his knees behind you, his golden eyes never leaving you for so much as a second, “don’t ave to tell me twice, say no more…Guess it’s already technically lunch time, isn’t it?”

His hands slid down your calves until they found your ankles, his broad palms wrapping around them with an easy, practiced gentleness as he folded your legs up into a more comfortable position. He guided them inward until the tops of your feet rested naturally against the warm expanse of his bare chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing brushing softly over your skin every time he inhaled. The washing machine rumbled steadily beneath your stomach, its gentle vibration humming through your hips while you lay stretched across the warm lid in eager anticipation, every nerve in your body buzzing as you waited for him.

The first thing that touched you wasn’t his mouth. It was the warm ghost of his breath. It feathered over the side of your ass in a slow exhale, sending a delicious shiver racing from the base of your spine all the way to the back of your neck. Goosebumps prickled over your skin as anticipation tightened pleasantly in your belly, and before you could even brace yourself, you gasped as his teeth sank playfully into the soft dough of your asscheek. The bite wasn’t enough to hurt, only enough to make your body jump with a startled laugh as you instinctively reached behind yourself again. He gently nudged your hands away with an amused little chuckle, silently insisting on having full access to admire and play with what was in front of him.

“Yum,” he murmured huskily.

The rough warmth of his tongue immediately soothed the spot he’d just bitten, slowly licking over the faint sting until it dissolved into another helpless giggle. The ticklish drag of his tongue made your shoulders shake, and you could hear the pleased little hum vibrating deep in his chest as he openly admired you.

“Your ass and pussy look like a heart in this position…” He breathed hotly.

You couldn’t help laughing, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” he answered without missing a beat, pressing an exaggerated, noisy smooch against the sore cheek he’d just bitten. His entire face smothered happily into the plush warmth of your ass, lingering there with obvious satisfaction before he mumbled into your skin, “let me drive a stake through it—”

“—Huh?!” You guffawed, your laughter exploding out of you so suddenly your whole body bounced against the humming washing machine.

The realization hit him immediately. His shoulders shook with embarrassed laughter as he dropped his forehead dramatically against your ass.

“I meant like, y’know, a butt plug. God, that came out wrong…” He groaned into your skin before laughing at himself, “sorry, I think I’m bad at talking dirty sometimes.”

You laughed even harder, “some werewolf you are, what a bad pun!”

“I know,” he admitted, rubbing his forehead against your ass in theatrical defeat.

“Fine…” You relented with another grin, “but make it a little smaller than last time.”

“’Kay,” he accepted obediently.

His attention returned to you almost immediately. Soft kisses began peppering their way across your ass one after another, each lingering smooch landing a little closer to your pussy than the last. The warm press of his lips contrasted deliciously against the cooler air brushing over your exposed skin, and every kiss made your stomach flutter harder in anticipation. Between them, you suddenly felt the gentle pad of one fingertip glide along the inside of your slit. The slow stroke gathered the slick arousal already coating you before his finger lazily circled your clit in teasing little rubs that made you sigh through parted lips.

You were soaked. Warm. Gooey. Your slick coated his fingertip so thoroughly that every slow pass over your clit glided effortlessly through your arousal, and you could both feel and hear the quiet, wet slide of it as he toyed with you. Behind you, the low hum vibrating in his throat grew warmer, needier, the sound drifting closer and closer to your ass until you could feel his breath washing over your asshole. Every tiny exhale made you clench instinctively, your thighs twitching as anticipation mounted higher.

But before he went there, his broad thumbs settled against your ass once more. They pressed gently outward, slowly spreading you open beneath his admiring gaze until your pussy parted completely for him. You felt yourself open beneath the pressure, exposing every glistening inch of your wet slit while the slickness between your lips stretched in soft little strings that caught briefly before breaking. Valko let out the quietest, most appreciative sigh, openly drinking in the sight with hungry eyes as his hands continued massaging your ass apart, mesmerized by the way every subtle squeeze and shift of his thumbs made your fully bared pussy move beneath them.

The erotic intensity of being watched like that made heat bloom straight through your core. You felt him lean closer. His tongue slowly rolled out, broad and shamelessly flat, and your jaw fell open in silent anticipation as you felt its first warm contact settle against your clit. He didn’t rush. He simply dragged one slow, indulgent lap through your dripping folds, broad enough to smother every inch of your pussy as he leisurely tasted his way upward. The unhurried stroke made your toes curl against his chest while a helpless shudder rippled through your entire body, and by the time his tongue reached the twitching little pucker of your asshole, your breath had completely abandoned you. Thank God you’d just showered.

“Mmmm,” he hummed, the sound vibrating warmly against you as he let out a blissful, breathy sigh that fanned hot across your clit before lowering his mouth to it again. This time, he wrapped his lips around the sensitive little bud with shameless devotion, sucking it into the welcoming heat of his mouth while his tongue flicked against it in practiced little strokes. He lingered there just long enough to make your thighs quiver before slowly letting it slip free again with one long, indulgent suck that echoed obscenely through the quiet hallway, the wet sound prickling all the way up the back of your neck, “who needs lubricant when they have the juiciest little pussy?”

“Val…” You giggled coyly into the back of your hand, your voice dissolving into another helpless laugh as your toes curled against his chest. Heat flooded your cheeks so quickly it almost made you dizzy, and somehow his filthy praise only made you burn hotter.

“What?” He asked with unmistakable amusement.

Oh, God. You felt him smirk. The corner of his mouth curled right against you before he shamelessly dove back in, taking another slow, greedy pull of your pussy. This time he didn’t settle for your clit alone. He drew your swollen lips into his mouth with brazen hunger, sucking them between his lips before giving them an affectionate little shake that made you gasp, your whole body jolting over the gently vibrating washing machine. The wet, sloppy sound that followed when he finally let you slip free made your stomach tighten with delight, and you could feel the warm trail of his saliva stretching from your pussy back to his lips before it finally broke. Without missing a beat, his tongue swept back over your clit in one teasing lap that made you jump, his broad hands tightening around your ass as they kneaded the soft flesh with obvious satisfaction.

“It’s true…” He murmured, his voice roughened by the way he’d been savoring you, “you’re like fresh meat falling off a bone. You’re scrumptious. I could eat this pretty little thing all day and still want more…”

The filthy sincerity in his voice sent another shiver coursing through you. He slowly drifted higher again, his tongue finding your asshole with complete shamelessness as he flicked over it in slow, exploratory little strokes. His thumbs settled against your ass once more, gently but firmly hooking you farther apart as he devoted himself to an unhurried barrage of affectionate licks. The warm glide of his tongue against such a sensitive spot sent your eyes rolling helplessly back, your brows knitting high against your forehead while a soft moan escaped your lips. Your cheek sank deeper against the humming washing machine, the steady vibration beneath you blending with every slow, indulgent stroke until pleasure buzzed through your entire body.

“Same with this perfect little hole,” he breathed, the warm words ghosting directly over your skin before his thumb slid lazily through the mixture of your slick and his saliva. The slow glide carried all the way to your asshole, where he began rubbing gentle little circles that made your stomach flutter, “looks so pretty when you have a shiny little plug sticking out of it…”

You inhaled sharply. Then you felt the unmistakable contrast. The cool, perfectly smooth touch of polished metal gradually replaced the warmth of his thumb, sending another delicious shiver racing through you. It was one of your favorite little displays of his Evol. You felt the metal slowly take shape against his fingertips as though it were growing directly beneath his touch, the rounded surface impossibly sleek against your heated skin. Patiently, almost proudly, he finished forming the plug before tracing its rounded tip around the tight little pucker of your asshole in slow, deliberate circles, letting the cool metal tease and outline the sensitive ring without rushing a single movement.

“Here, let me help you get it in…” He murmured, easing himself back just enough that you immediately knew exactly what he was about to do, “get you nice and sloppy-wet.”

A heartbeat later, you felt it. The warm splatter of his saliva landed directly against your asshole with an audible spit, coating the sensitive little ring before slowly beginning to drip downward. The sudden contrast of hot spit against your skin made your entire body tense, your stomach erupting with heat as your asshole instinctively clenched around nothing, betraying exactly how much the sensation affected you.

“Nasty bastard,” you muttered beneath your breath, trying and failing to sound genuinely offended.

His response came in the form of a low, breathy laugh that rumbled warmly against your ass. He sounded thoroughly turned on by the insult, never taking offense, always delighting in the sharp edge of your tongue just as much as the affection hidden beneath it. One broad hand steadied your hip while the other guided the cool, polished metal back toward you, the rounded tip gliding through the mixture of his spit and your slick before settling squarely against your slippery asshole.

“We both know how much you love getting your holes drooled and slobbered over,” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement as the metal slowly began pressing inward, “don’t act all coy with me now, you’re just as nasty…”

You flinched the instant the rounded tip finally popped inside. The familiar stretch spread through you in slow, delicious increments as he patiently fed the plug deeper, your ass gradually opening around the widening shape. Every careful push filled you a little more, the smooth metal sliding farther inside until the thickest part finally disappeared and your ass swallowed it all the way to its base. The snug fullness settled comfortably inside you, drawing another involuntary little squeeze from your body as you adjusted around it.

“Oh, look at that…” He breathed, pure fascination dripping shamelessly from every word. His fingers curled around the base of the plug before giving it the tiniest playful tug, making the tight ring of your asshole flex around it as he watched with openly hungry admiration. He was utterly enthralled by every tiny movement, every subtle clench, every little twitch your body made beneath his hands, “she’s so cute when she’s all plugged up and dripping wet…”

The naked appreciation in his voice made another shiver ripple through you. Then his thumb returned to your clit. He stroked slowly through the slickness gathered there, rubbing lazy circles that made your hips twitch before his tongue followed, flicking warmly against your pussy. His thumb swept over your clit again. Then his tongue. Then his thumb. Then another broad, indulgent lick. The alternating rhythm quickly became impossible to think through, every slow stroke and every teasing flick blending together until your breathing grew uneven and your whole body began writhing helplessly over the humming washing machine.

You pressed your ass back toward him as much as the position allowed, shamelessly chasing every touch while your hips wiggled with growing impatience. The movement made your pussy rub against his mouth in tiny, needy little motions, and before you could second-guess yourself, you lifted your legs and hooked your feet securely around the back of his neck. Your shins settled comfortably across his broad shoulders as you pulled him firmly toward you.

A surprised little noise escaped him. It immediately dissolved into a muffled groan as you buried his face straight into your pussy. His broad hands tightened around your ass with obvious appreciation while he let himself be pulled exactly where you wanted him, his nose and mouth smothering eagerly against your wetness as though he couldn’t possibly complain about being manhandled into his favorite place.

“Eat your fucking lunch already, Valko,” you demanded through a sultry little giggle.

You deliberately wiggled your pussy from side to side against his mouth, grinding yourself playfully over his face, and Valko answered with enthusiastic obedience. He matched every movement you made, letting your hips guide him while he messily nuzzled into your warmth with delighted little hums, openly savoring every inch of you as though he truly intended to spend the rest of the afternoon greedily devouring his favorite meal.

Heather surged straight through your sex the instant the broad expanse of his tongue pushed inside you. The sheer width of it filled you just enough to make your breath catch, and the slow, shameless wiggle of the muscle inside your pussy sent a delicious shudder racing all the way up your spine. The mere thought of what he was doing made your stomach tighten with heat. God…He had literally shoved his tongue inside your pussy.

A helpless moan spilled from your lips as that delicious bastard greedily ate you up, completely unashamed of the sloppy, hungry way he devoured every inch of you. Your toes curled hard behind his thick neck while your hips instinctively pressed back into him, smothering his face as deeply into your pussy as you possibly could. You held him there with shameless need, grinding yourself against his mouth until you could actually feel the tip of his nose nudging against the smooth metal plug nestled snugly inside your ass. The sensation sent another violent pulse of pleasure through your body, making your fingers desperately clutch the edge of the washing machine while the steady vibration beneath your stomach only blurred together with the euphoria steadily melting every muscle in your body.

“Oh my God…” You breathed, your eyes rolling blissfully toward the ceiling as a grin spread helplessly across your face. The warm sighs escaping his nose and mouth washed over your soaked skin between every greedy mouthful he took, making you shiver from head to toe, “oh my God…That feels so good…Eat it up, babe, eat every last bite…”

His response came without a single word. One large hand wrapped affectionately around your foot where it rested against his neck, his thumb lazily stroking over your heel while his other broad hand spread possessively across your ass. His fingers kneaded into the soft flesh with obvious appreciation before tightening just enough to hold you exactly where he wanted you. Then he buried his face into your pussy all over again, enthusiastically shaking his head against you with messy determination until another helpless giggle bubbled out of your chest.

You could feel him smiling. No…You could actually feel him smirking against your pussy. The subtle lift of the corner of his mouth brushed your sensitive skin before the faint tips of his little fangs grazed teasingly along your folds, making your stomach flutter so violently it almost hurt. A heartbeat later his tongue returned, broad and eager, lapping lovingly over your clit with the same shameless enthusiasm he’d shown from the very beginning. Every slow lick was followed by another. Then another. He wasn’t pacing himself anymore. He was simply indulging, openly savoring every taste and every little sound you made as though he’d been starving for this exact moment all day.

Somewhere behind him, a familiar rhythmic thumping echoed through the tiny laundry closet. Thump. Thump. Thump. You grinned before you even consciously recognized it. His tail. His giant fluffy tail was wagging so hard it kept smacking the floor behind him, then bouncing into the wall of the laundry closet with every increasingly enthusiastic sweep. You didn’t have to lift your head to know what it looked like. You could picture it perfectly. The mighty chairman of EonCore, the feared leader of an entire werewolf clan, reduced to happily thumping his tail against the wall because he was getting to bury his face in your pussy for lunch time. It made your heart melt almost as much as it turned you on.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, your voice thick with pleasure as you reached one hand behind yourself until your fingers disappeared into his soft auburn hair. You fisted the silky strands with affectionate confidence before gently pulling him even closer, pressing his face so deeply into your pussy that a muffled, blissful sigh escaped him against your soaked folds. The vibration of it melted straight through your core, leaving your stomach feeling molten while your thighs trembled around his shoulders, “get over here and slobber all over it till I cum…”

You felt his wolf ears perk beneath your hand, flicking excitedly against your fingers the instant you praised him. The reaction made a smile tug at your lips before he immediately obeyed, burying himself back into your folds with renewed enthusiasm. His tongue bobbed eagerly against your clit, quick, hungry strokes landing one after another with messy determination as the wet, lewd sounds of him lapping at you filled the laundry closet. Every pant that escaped him washed hot against your soaked pussy before he dove back in again, shamelessly putting his whole neck into it as he feasted on you like a starving man who had finally found his favorite meal.

God…Valko was such a greedy addict. And you absolutely loved him for it. Every slap of his tongue against your clit made the sensitive little bundle twitch uncontrollably, the broad muscle landing with perfect accuracy over and over until you could no longer distinguish one delicious stroke from the next. The slick squelch of his mouth working against your pussy echoed obscenely through the small space, every filthy sound sinking straight into your stomach and making the coil inside you pull tighter. Your fingers trembled where they were buried deep in his auburn hair, clutching handfuls of the soft strands while your hips rocked helplessly against his face, feet pulling him tight. Heat gathered low inside your belly until it became almost unbearable, your muscles tightening one by one as pleasure climbed relentlessly higher, your vision beginning to soften and blur around the edges.

“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, the confession tumbling breathlessly from your lips as your toes curled tighter behind his neck. You squeezed him instinctively, pressing your pussy even harder over his mouth until it felt like you were trying to pull him inside you. Your entire body had begun trembling now, every breath catching somewhere high in your chest as the tension became almost impossible to contain, “yes! Yes! Yes! Val! Oh, fuck, I’m cumming hard!”

God…It was like fireworks every single time. Every time that man found himself between your legs with his face buried in your pussy, he somehow unraveled you all over again. Your voice broke apart into helpless cries and breathless little mewls as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you, each one stronger than the last beneath the relentless coaxing of his hungry tongue. He never slowed, never hesitated, ravenously feasting on your pussy while your body convulsed beneath his hands. His broad palms held firmly to your hips and ass, grounding you as your thighs trembled and your pussy fluttered uncontrollably against his mouth. Your clit felt almost electric, every nerve ending buzzing so intensely it bordered on overwhelming as you moaned his name through the height of your orgasm.

By the time the last tremors finally began fading from your body, you were still humming with pleasure from head to toe. Every muscle felt pleasantly heavy, your breathing uneven as you lay sprawled over the gently vibrating washing machine, completely dazed. You hardly registered him pulling away from your folds. Barely noticed him rising smoothly to his feet until his towering warmth settled over you again. Somewhere through the lingering haze, you watched him reach into the basket of freshly dried laundry, casually grab the first clean piece of clothing his hand landed on, and wipe the sheen of your slick from around his mouth with complete, shameless satisfaction before tossing it carelessly back into the pile.

You were nothing but delicious putty by the time you heard the soft rustle of fabric followed by the unmistakable sound of him pushing his pants down. Your body still buzzed from your orgasm, your legs pleasantly weak as you remained draped sideways over the gently rumbling washing machine, balanced more on your toes than your feet. The steady vibration beneath your stomach hummed through your body while you watched his shadow stretch over you, swallowing every strip of afternoon light until his enormous frame engulfed you completely.

You didn’t have to turn around to know exactly where he was. You felt him. The heat rolling off his body seeped into your skin before he even touched you, surrounding you from behind with that familiar furnace-like warmth that always seemed capable of melting you. Through the corner of your vision, you could make out the silhouette of his arm reaching before himself, his broad hand wrapping heavily around his cock. The quiet sound of his grip, followed by the slow hitch in his breathing, made your stomach flutter. Then his free hand settled against your hip, fingers spreading wide before giving the soft flesh an indulgent squeeze as he curled over your backside. His warm breath drifted across your upper back while he leaned closer, and a deep, satisfied groan vibrated out of his chest the moment the smooth head of his cock slowly swiped through the slick coating your dripping pussy. He dragged it from the bottom of your slit to the top with unhurried appreciation, gathering every bit of your wetness before doing it again, savoring the feel of you as though he couldn’t help himself.

A grin tugged helplessly at your lips, “you should flip me over so I can watch you fuck me…”

“I should?” He echoed, amusement immediately creeping into his voice.

Before you could laugh, those huge hands were already on you. They engulfed your waist with effortless strength before lifting you clean off the washing machine as though you weighed absolutely nothing. The room spun around you for a heartbeat while he smoothly turned you in his arms, pulling his shirt up over your head and tossing it somewhere into the hallway, and the next moment he bounced you gently back onto the warm lid on your naked back instead. Your legs lifted naturally into the air, bending comfortably as he stepped between them with another quiet laugh. His broad hands pushed your thighs wide apart before he placed your calves into your own hands, silently encouraging you to hold yourself open while he leaned over you, his broad shoulders blocking out the hallway light once more.

“In that case,” he chuckled, his sharp teeth flashing as golden eyes met yours, “c’mere, pancake…”

You never got the chance to answer him. The breath caught sharply in your throat as the thick head of his cock found your entrance and began pressing into your folds. You watched every tiny reaction bloom across his face.nHis thick brows twitched together ever so slightly, his sculpted jaw flexed beneath his skin, and his eyelids fluttered halfway closed as your pussy welcomed him back with slow, delicious resistance. He didn’t force a single inch. Instead, he eased forward patiently, letting your tightness stretch around the magnificent thickness of his cock little by little. Every deeper push widened you more than the last until you could feel your walls drawing snugly around every inch, greedily swallowing him while your body melted beneath the familiar fullness.

“Mmmm!” The sound escaped around your lip as you bit down against it, your head tipping back while your eyes rolled blissfully toward the ceiling.

God, you loved that feeling. You indulged shamelessly in every inch of that fucking cock stretching you wider and wider, your stomach fluttering with intoxicating heat the farther he pushed inside. Your gaze eventually found him again, helplessly roaming over every hard line of his chest, every flexing muscle rolling beneath his skin as his hips continued forward until they finally settled flush against your ass. The deep press of his pelvis immediately stimulated the cool metal plug still nestled inside your asshole, sandwiching your body between both delicious sensations until a bright grin spread uncontrollably across your face. You were practically kicking your feet with delight.

His broad hands slowly slid higher along your thighs before curling around them with unmistakable need, his fingers tightening just enough to hold you exactly where he wanted you. When his golden eyes finally lifted from where your bodies joined and locked onto yours, you felt another pulse of heat bloom through your chest.

“Give it to me already…” You grinned up at him.

A slow, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he looked down at you. His chest rose with one deep breath before he reluctantly began drawing his cock back, inch by inch, your pussy clinging greedily to every bit of him as he withdrew until only half his magnificent length remained inside you.

“Oh,” he sighed warmly, unable to hide the amusement in his voice, “you want your bone?”

“Yeah, gimme my—”

Your words never had the chance to finish. Your jaw dropped open as your entire body seized around him. Your pussy clenched so violently it almost hurt the instant he drove that fat cock straight back into you without the slightest warning. There was no slow buildup this time, no teasing drag, no patient stretch. It was nothing but pure, animalistic need as he buried himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust that stole every coherent thought from your head.

“Here,” he pulled back just enough to do it again. His hips snapped forward with another heavy thrust that bounced your entire body over the steadily humming washing machine, the impact sending your breasts jolting as his pelvis smacked flush against your ass. The delicious clap of skin meeting skin echoed through the cramped laundry closet, louder now than the quiet rumble of the machine beneath you, “have it, pup…”

Another sharp moan tore from your throat before you could stop it. Your body jerked helplessly beneath him as he drove every glorious inch of that cock into you again, battering your gummy, slippery walls until your insides fluttered uncontrollably around him. Every thrust landed with delicious authority, making your stomach tighten hotter and tighter while your breath dissolved into broken little gasps. Oh, sweet heavens…That hellhound was a godsend.

“Atta girl…” He smirked down at you with satisfaction.

Your hands flew instinctively to his forearms, fingers wrapping tightly around thick muscle and raised veins as though they were the only solid thing left in the room. His skin was hot beneath your palms, every tendon flexing beneath your grip as he surged into you again, and your pussy answered by squeezing desperately around his delightfully obnoxious girth.

Then he started pumping into you. Pounding. Each thrust drove deeper than the last, his powerful hips setting a relentless rhythm that filled the little laundry closet with the wet, rhythmic snap of skin against skin. The sound mixed shamelessly with the steady hum of the washing machine beneath your ass, creating a hypnotic rhythm that matched the growing pulse of pleasure boiling inside your body.

The smile melted clean off your face. Ecstasy consumed you so completely that your expression unraveled beneath it, your lower lip trembling uncontrollably while your brows drew tightly together and your eyes rolled helplessly back. You knew he was watching you. You could feel it in the way his golden eyes stayed fixed on your face while he fucked you, drinking in every little reaction, every gasp, every involuntary flutter of you around his cock.

You couldn’t stop moaning. Every piston of his hips drove another wave of heat through your body. Every hard knock of his cock pounded into your slick, yielding walls with delicious fullness, stretching you over and over until your legs quivered beneath his hands. Each forceful press of his hips also drove the firm pressure of the plug nestled inside your ass a little deeper against you, the rhythmic smother of his heavy balls teasing around it with every thrust until the combined sensations blurred together into one overwhelming rush that left your toes curling and your entire body trembling beneath him.

“Oh, God, fuck me…” The plea spilled from your lips before you even realized you’d spoken, carried away on a breathless moan as you fought through the haze of pleasure just to keep your eyes open. Every brutal snap of his hips threatened to roll them helplessly back again, and it took every ounce of concentration you had left to drag your gaze upward toward the ridiculously large man towering over you, handling you like you were his favorite damn toy.

His hand made sure you looked. It came up in one decisive motion, broad fingers spreading across your jaw as his palm cradled your chin and cheeks with possessive firmness. His grip wasn’t painful, only demanding, gently but unmistakably insisting that your attention belonged to him. Every rough thrust jolted your head in his hand while he held your face steady enough that you couldn’t escape his eyes.

“What was that?” He asked, his voice roughened by the way he was breathing, “louder for me, little one.”

Your vision blurred around the edges again as another powerful thrust rocked through your body, your walls clenching helplessly around the magnificent thickness of his girth before your eyes finally focused on him. God…He was beautiful. His face had flushed all the way down his neck and across the broad expanse of his chest, a fine sheen of sweat making every hard line of muscle glisten beneath the afternoon light filtering into the laundry closet. Damp strands of auburn hair clung carelessly to his forehead, and those heavy, hooded golden eyes remained locked onto you with such shameless hunger that another pulse of heat surged through your stomach.

He looked at you exactly the way a starving wolf looked at its favorite meal. There wasn’t an ounce of restraint left in him. Every snap of his hips carried that same beautiful, beastly need, driving his cock deep into you with enough force to leave you breathless while his expression unraveled right alongside yours. His jaw remained tight, every muscle in his forearms flexing beneath your grip as he held your thighs apart again and watched you come undone beneath him, openly captivated by every gasp, every flutter of your pussy around him, every expression that crossed your face.

The sight burned itself into your memory. It was exhilarating. God, what a thrill it was to be looked at like that, to be wanted with such naked intensity by the gorgeous, wolfish man wrecking you so thoroughly you could barely remember your own name. The shameless chemistry between you blazed hotter with every thrust, filling your chest until it overflowed into another desperate clench around his thick cock. Your body simply couldn’t stop reacting to him. Every powerful drive of his hips coaxed another involuntary squeeze from your insides, gripping him tighter and tighter as though you were trying to keep every inch of him buried inside you.

“I said fuck me!” You cried, your voice louder this time, breaking beautifully beneath another hard thrust. Your nails dug deeper into the thick muscle of his forearms, feeling every tendon tighten beneath your fingertips as his grip on you grew just as desperate, “harder! Harder! Come on, I want it rough! Play rough with me!”

Oh, that did it. The change in him was immediate. His hands released your thighs only long enough to slide farther up, wrapping securely around your calves before he drove them higher, folding your body toward him until your knees were nearly pressed over your shoulders. His fingertips dug firmly into your flesh, holding you in the tighter position with obvious purpose, your hips naturally tilting beneath him until your pussy was offered to him even more completely.

The new angle stole the breath clean out of your lungs. Your jaw fell open all over again as you felt the impossible increase in the depth of every thrust. It wasn’t just harder. It was deeper. Hungrier. His fervor exploded into something beautifully animalistic, his cock driving into you with a zeal that bordered on desperate as though every instinct inside him had finally snapped its leash. The rhythm he’d been building shattered beneath raw need, replaced by powerful, relentless thrusts that rocked your entire body over the steadily humming washing machine, bumping it into the dryer beside it each time. Every hard clap of his hips against your ass echoed through the cramped laundry closet, mingling with the wet slap of your pussy taking every inch of his cock and the steady rumble beneath your back.

The pressure inside you climbed with terrifying speed. It built so violently you couldn’t keep pace with it. Every brutal piston of his hips stuffed your gummy, slippery walls completely full before pulling back only enough to plunge straight through you again, the magnificent thickness of his cock stretching you over and over while the snug metal plug nestled in your asshole turned every impact into another overwhelming jolt of fullness. You fluttered uncontrollably around him, squeezing tighter with every thrust as your body chased something it could no longer comprehend.

You couldn’t look away from Valko. Every muscle across his chest, shoulders, stomach, and arms bulged beneath flushed skin, standing out in hard definition as he held you folded beneath him. Thick veins climbed his forearms where his hands gripped your calves, his fingers tightening every time his hips snapped forward. His chest glistened with a sheen of dripping sweat that caught the afternoon light, each powerful breath making it rise and fall faster than the last. His sculpted jaw remained clenched so tightly you could see the muscles flex beneath his skin, and the tendons in his neck stood out prominently with every ragged inhale. His lips had fallen open just enough for uneven breaths to spill free, his heavy, hooded golden eyes never leaving your face as he watched you unravel beneath him.

God…He looked magnificent. Wild. Carnal. Every bit the enormous wolf who’d completely lost himself in you. He looked absolutely fucking insane for you. The sight alone sent another desperate squeeze through your cunt, your body greedily milking every inch of his cock as he continued battering into you with unabashed need. The pressure inside your stomach became almost unbearable, coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like your entire body had become one trembling nerve ending.

It happened so suddenly you couldn’t even warn him. One impossibly deep thrust buried him to the hilt. The pressure shattered. It ripped through you like a bolt of white-hot electricity, exploding from your core and racing through every muscle in your body. Your back arched violently off the washing machine as a helpless cry tore from your throat, your entire body convulsing from head to toe while wave after wave of pleasure crashed through you. The release overtook you completely, hot and overwhelming, your juices splashing out in a sudden, forceful rush as your cunt clenched frantically around his cock, refusing to let him go while you shook beneath him in the grip of your orgasm.

“Yes!” You screamed with unrestrained glee, your entire body shaking from head to toe as wave after wave continued crashing through you, “Val!”

Your eyes struggled to stay open through the blinding intensity, yet somehow you both found yourselves staring downward, completely enthralled by the breathtakingly filthy sight between your bodies. Every powerful thrust sent your joined bodies crashing together with another wet slap, your pussy splashing around his magnificent cock as your juices sprayed shamelessly over the hard planes of his sculpted abs, across his flushed hips, and down the powerful muscles of his thighs. Warm rivulets ran over the curve of your ass before dripping onto the humming washing machine beneath you, leaving both of you soaked in the glorious aftermath of your pleasure.

“Keep going, keep going, keep going, keep going!” You begged, voice crescendoing into a scream.

“Anything you want, gorgeous,” he answered through a wide, breathless grin, every word broken apart by ragged pants as he continued pounding into you without hesitation. His chest heaved from the effort while another hot splash from between your legs painted him all over again. The sensation only made his smile widen, “squirt all over me, uh-huh…Right here, give it right here!”

You couldn’t think anymore. Every coherent thought had long since dissolved into a deliciously overheated haze where nothing existed except him, the relentless rhythm of his hips, and the overwhelming pleasure consuming your body. You found yourself trapped inside a blissful trance, your lips endlessly spilling praises, pleas, and desperate little begs without conscious thought. You craved him with shameless greed, every inch of that enormous wolf of a man, every sound he made, every expression that crossed his face, every powerful thrust that sent another violent pulse of pleasure surging through your body.

He looked just as lost. Golden eyes remained fixed on you with naked devotion while deep, helpless groans escaped him one after another, the sounds growing rougher, lower, almost animalistic beneath the sheer exertion of refusing to slow down. You never let him. Every time his pace threatened to falter, your hands found him again, your words urged him on again, demanding more, demanding harder, demanding that he fuck you until neither of you remembered where one body ended and the other began.

He obeyed. Gladly. The laundry closet echoed with nothing but the relentless applause of skin striking skin, the wet sounds of your pussy greedily swallowing every inch of him, your uneven breathing tangling with his, and the shameless stream of filthy words tumbling from both of your mouths between desperate moans and shouts. Time seemed to disappear altogether beneath the relentless pace until you could practically feel the inevitable building inside him.

You noticed it before he said a single word. His balls hung heavier against you with every thrust. The muscles across his biceps and chest tightened harder. His breathing became rougher, every inhale catching somewhere deep in his chest while his jaw flexed so tightly you thought it might ache afterward. His cock somehow felt even hotter inside you, throbbing insistently with every deep plunge as though it had developed a heartbeat of its own. His rhythm lost the last traces of measured control, surrendering completely to raw instinct as paradise drew closer and closer with every powerful drive of his hips. You saw the exact moment it happened. The moment restraint abandoned him. The moment Valko reached the edge. The moment he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back another second.

“Cum inside me,” you urged, your voice trembling with excitement as your hands slid down to his hips. His skin was slick beneath your palms, damp with sweat and with you, making your fingers glide over the hard muscle as you held him close. A breathless giggle escaped you at the sight of him unraveling so beautifully above you, his expression completely wrecked by pleasure, and your heart melted almost as quickly as your body did, “let me have it now, come on, good boy, Val!”

That did it. That absolutely did it.

“C-cumming,” he gritted through clenched fangs, his voice cracking beneath the sheer force of it as every muscle across his powerful frame flexed impossibly tighter. His hands slipped from your calves and crashed down onto the washing machine on either side of your shoulders, the appliance groaning faintly beneath the combined weight of both of you. His orgasm hit him all at once, so suddenly and so completely that his entire body visibly convulsed. He shook like a leaf above you, broad shoulders trembling with every involuntary shudder while his golden eyes rolled blissfully back beneath fluttering lids. His neck tipped with them, exposing the taut line of his throat as another helpless groan tore free, “Y/n! Fuck!”

One uneven thrust rolled through you. Then another. Then he buried himself completely inside your cunt, hips settling flush against you as the strength seemed to pour out of his body all at once. Your calves still rested over his broad shoulders while his full weight hovered protectively above you, and you felt the unmistakable pulse of his cock as he came. Thick, hot ropes of his cum flooded your pussy one after another, filling you so thoroughly you felt every powerful throb deep inside your body. His heavy balls twitched rhythmically against your fluttering lips while he emptied himself into you with a long, ragged sound of relief that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest, every pulse accompanied by another tiny tremor that rippled through his exhausted body.

You never stopped looking at him. You watched the tension slowly melt from his face, watched the hard line of his jaw soften as the last aftershocks faded through him. His breathing remained uneven, chest rising and falling against yours while beads of sweat clung to his brow and trickled lazily down the sides of his flushed face. Then, little by little, the dazed expression gave way to the sweetest, shakiest smile.

Your heart melted. He lowered his forehead until it rested gently against yours, both of you sharing the same warm breaths while he smiled at you with blissful exhaustion painted all over his handsome face. Without a word, he leaned down and smothered his lips against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. You couldn’t help giggling into it, the sound vibrating softly between your mouths as you kissed him back just as lazily.

The poor thing was completely spent. He still tasted like you. You shamelessly indulged in the kiss, smiling against his tired mouth while your fingers drifted affectionately through the damp strands of auburn hair clinging to his scalp. Somewhere behind him, you could both hear and feel the slow, tired swish of his enormous tail. It no longer thumped excitedly against the walls. Instead, it lazily wagged back and forth near the floor in content little sweeps, betraying just how happy the exhausted werewolf still was despite having barely enough energy left to stand.

Then, completely ruining the moment, the washing machine stopped. The steady vibration beneath your back faded away before the little electronic chime cheerfully announced that the cycle had finished.

“Ding ding ding,” he mumbled automatically, still breathing hard as he absentmindedly sang along with the tune out of pure habit, “di-di-di-ding…”

You stared at him for half a second. Then completely lost it.

“Ding ding ding, di-di-di-diiiing!” Both of you dissolved into helpless laughter, the ridiculous little duet echoing through the laundry closet while he leaned down to steal another affectionate kiss from you between chuckles.

“Now get this thing out of my ass,” you giggled breathlessly.

“Huh?”

“The butt plug, Valko.”

His exhausted brain visibly stalled.

“…Ohhh,” he finally breathed, blinking down at you before another sheepish smile spread across his dripping, flushed face, “right, right. Forgot.”

You laughed so hard you nearly smacked yourself, “you’re such a dork.”

“Mhm.”

You roll your eyes, “Caleb, ugh.”

He turns back to you, “What!?”

You shrug his arm off, “I gotta go, yeah? I’ll see you both—er, later…”

After you start to walk off, “Pips—!”

Once you’re far enough away, Zayne’s voice becomes a hiss, “Could you have made that any worse than it already is?”

Grabbing Zayne’s other shoulder with his now free hand due to your departure, Caleb responds mockingly, “Yes, yes I definitely could’ve.”

“I’m also leaving.” Zayne jerks Caleb’s arm and hand off his shoulders, “I won’t see you later.”

Exasperated, Caleb tosses his arms up, “Oh, come on!” If there’s one thing Zayne and you both knew, it was that Caleb possessed little room for tact.

***

Both his repeated instances of pestering you—and Zayne—as well as the incident itself was brought up with Gideon many, many, times over the course of several days.

“You’ve gotta just let it go, man.”

“Let it go!?”

Gideon sighs, “Yes, let it the fuck go.”

“You saw it! You want me to just—”

He interrupts Caleb, “Yes, I, very unfortunately, saw it. That’s why I’m telling you, just let it go.”

Caleb rolls his eyes, “Oh, fuck off. It was hot.”

“That’s one way to describe it. I’d use the word disgusting but—to each their own.”

“Dude!”

“Dude, what!?” Gideon lowers his voice, “What do you think is gonna happen? You’ll have a three—”

Caleb grimaces, “Shut up! Fuck, no. I’d have to kill him.”

Gideon’s voice raises, “Then just drop it!”

“I can’t!” Caleb runs his hands through his hair, “It’s—oh my god, you saw it, you know.”

Gideon pinches the bridge of his nose, speaking again once he lets go, “I really wish I didn’t!”

“Lies.”

“Truths! All the truths! I had to wash my eyes out after!”

Caleb scoffs, “Oh, come on. It’s not like we—”

“Stop. Whatever you’re gonna say, I can’t take it.”

***

Attempting to have a normal lunch, “You liked it, hm? I could tell.”

“Caleb!”

His brows raise, “I heard you moaning.”

“I was drunk! We were all—”

Interrupting you, he cocks his head to the side, “I know you, you weren’t that drunk. Neither was I…neither was he. Well, maybe him the most, honestly.”

Your shoulders tense, “Okay, whatever. Just—”

He interrupts again, “So, who’s it gonna be, hm?”

“Who’s it gonna be, what!?” After raising an octave, you bring your voice back to neutral, “It’s not a big deal. It didn’t mean anything, just some fun.” Your eyes look to his pleadingly, “Right?”

He nods quickly, shaking his head after, “R-right—I’m—I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine, just—!” You let your shoulders drop and exhale deeply, “Let’s just…leave it in the past, okay?”

“Okay, mhm,” he bows his head slightly, “yeah…sorry.”

***

Despite it being far less painful than Caleb’s version, this conversation wouldn’t let up on its other opposing end either.

You sigh, “Listen, we’ve got to stop having this conversation. I accept your apology, okay? Just—”

His voice is tense and racked with guilt, “I am, really—really—sorry. It was inappropriate, I—”

“Zayne! I promise, we’re totally okay. Just…let’s drop it, yeah?”

His brows furrow and he nods quickly, somewhere between a yes and a no, “O-okay, yeah. I’m sorry.”

***

For almost a week straight, from all angles, this simply wouldn’t let up. At least you found yourself having lunch without them—for now.

Gideon’s girlfriend shakes her head, “You gotta pick.”

You squeal, “Pick!?”

“Yes, pick.”

Stammering, trying to push that night from your mind that no one will let you forget, “I c-can’t! I pick neither!”

Her face scrunches accusingly, “Neither!? Oh, come on.” She sighs, “If you don’t pick soon, they’re gonna lose their fucking minds. Well, one is gonna lose their mind regardless, but…” Each word from her elicits a stronger and stronger expression of stress from you. “If you don’t pick, both are losing their minds—so, you gotta pick!”

“Oh my god. I can’t. I cannot have this conversation! Why can’t everyone just let it—”

Her eyes widen, looking past you to the nearest door, “Hey, guys!” When you turn and see the pair, your heart races, wishing you could just disappear…off the face of the earth.

***

You couldn’t keep having these conversations. It had now actually been a week, and there was at least one a day. From all directions, it kept coming up.

Whether it was because of the conversations, or what actually happened, you couldn’t stop thinking about it—waking up to the thought of it. You’d lost count of how many mornings this past week you spent squeezing your thighs together and screaming into your pillow.

You thought it simply couldn’t get any worse than this. But, oh, it was about to get, much, much, worse. In more ways than one.

***

“Okay, screw this. You guys are making this so awkward. Would you just kiss both of them and then pick so he,” Gideon gestures to Caleb, “can stop bothering me, and so he,” then he gestures to Zayne, “can stop looking so depressed and guilty.”

Their voices overlap, their tones much different, “I’ve not been bothering you!” “I don’t look depressed.”

Gideon rolls his eyes, “Right, right. Neither of those fucking statements are true.”

His girlfriend chimes in, tapping his arm, “Babe! Quit it.”

“No! This is ridiculous, everything is so weird now, and I’m stick of it!” He looks between Caleb and Zayne, “One of you make a move before I lose my fucking mind with this situation.”

Caleb’s response is quick, “I vote I do it.”

She scowls at him, “Caleb, shut the fuck up, would you?”

With a flat expression, you put both of your hands up, “Alright, you know what? I’m leaving. Bye.”

“Pips!”

“No! Just—leave it alone, Caleb. Why do you have to always go and make everything worse, hm?” Now that one...was like a knife straight to the heart.

That same night, he sent you just a few texts…

hey…i’m sorry really really really sorry can we just…talk? i promise i won’t be a dick :p i just want to apologize please pips

There were more, but there was another significant thread about a week later.

when are you gonna stop ignoring me? it’s been a WEEK i can’t take it I’M SORRY OKAY PLEASE :( we need to talk call me

***

Later that same night after his second long thread of messages, a week past everyone’s arguing and two weeks past the incident, thinking the knock you heard may have been a friend from across the hall, as soon as you open the door, “Ugh! Caleb! What are you doing here? Just…” you push the door closed slowly, “go away.”

Wedging his foot between the door and its jamb, “No.”

“Caleb!”

“No.” He places a hand on the door and pushes, not hard, but a push nonetheless, “You’re gonna let me in and let me apologize.”

Grumbling your annoyances to yourself, you let him in. This was bound to come to pass anyway, better to just get it over with. Right?

Folding your arms across your chest, you look away from him. “Pips…” he sighs, "will you at least look at me?” You sigh in return, still avoiding eye contact—it was too hard to look at him right now, “I-I, I’m sorry, okay? Fuck! I don’t know what to say, I just…I can’t stand to be away from you.”

You finally look over to him, and it breaks your heart to see just how sad he truly appears when you finally get a good look at him, “Caleb…”

“It hurts, pips. It hurts so fucking badly.” His hand raises and flattens over his heart, “My chest—i-it’s like I can’t breathe. It’s driving me crazy.” He takes a step closer toward you, “I am really sorry if I hurt you.” He shakes his head, “Shit, I did hurt you. I’m so sorry. Please, just—stop being mad at me. I-I—”

You sigh again, deeper, “Caleb, I can’t just…decide. It’s…”

“You can.” Another step. “You can. We’ll just…let it go. Like you wanted in the first place. I’m sorry I didn’t do that…in the first place. This is all my fault.”

“Well…” feeling your own sense of guilt, “it’s not entirely your fault…” You end up letting out a small huffed laugh, the entire situation frankly crazy, and a bit of everyone’s fault. The three of you, that is—and for more reasons than just that one night.

Seeing the slight smile from your quiet laugh, “You have no idea how much I’ve been missing seeing you smile.”

“Caleb—”

“I’m serious.” A third step. “I can’t live without it.” A fourth.

“W-wait—”

He grabs both of your hands, “I-I know you want him. I’m not stupid, just—” his head drops and shakes again, “Please…” before he looks at you again, “Can I show you how much I want you?” Your eyes widen, a slight shake in your hands that he won’t let go of, “Please. I need to show you.” Your mouth opens to speak, but nothing comes out. “Pull away, shove me, hell, hit me and—I’ll stop. I just need to show you.” His look his earnest, deeply and fearfully earnest, “Will you let me?”

You’re frozen, the look in his eyes paralyzing you and stopping your heartbeat. “Caleb—” You take another step back but he follows, “w-wait—” he lets go of your hands as you take another step back, “Cal—”

He interrupts, “God, you’re so pretty, just—”

With the next step you take, you bump into your desk, “C-Caleb—”

Your hands raise and press against his chest. He swallows hard, “Push me away.”

“I-I—” You stop speaking completely the closer he gets, stammering due to your proximity.

Leaning in slowly, as close as he can get within the limit of your patience, his nose brushes against yours, a warm wash of his heavy breathing hitting your lips, “…Push me away.” He sighs, his eyes closing briefly before looking back at you, “That simple…just…” Your chest heaves as he tilts, his lips so close to yours without touching.

When he pushes the remainder of the distance, his eyes close and yours widen, “Mmm—!” Your left hand balls into a fist and beats down on his chest softly once as your eyes flutter from the delicateness of his kiss…then a second time, a bit softer…before your hand flattens and your eyes also close, “Mmph…”

“Mmhm…” The sound he makes affirms—relishes—in your reaction. Both of his hands raise to cup your face.

It was soft, tender, and full of longing. Full of everything he ever wanted to say. There was no tension, rivalry, alcohol, or…obstacles. No lines drawn in the sand. It just felt…real; overwhelmingly—scarily—real. It was the scariest thing you have ever done together—and that was saying something considering all that you’ve been through together.

When he pulls back, you can hardly focus, “See? Just—” He presses his lips against yours again, holding you close by your face, his fingertips adding the slightest bit of pressure as he attempts to reserve his desperation of this moment—this long awaited moment.

Letting you breathe, your voice is a soft moan, “Cal—” but he comes right back, “Mmm—” You feel yourself melting, giving into the soft touch he provides, feeling a much different feeling than that night. That night was lust, this is…

“Mmm—” He breaks away, giving you several soft kisses against your lips, the corner of your mouth, all while you go slack. Mumbling against your skin between kisses, “P-please, just… I-I—” He can’t finish, not without pressing his lips back against yours more passionately.

He lets his fingertips slip from your cheeks, gliding down and over your jaw, coiling past your neck and up and into your hair. Trying to tame himself, his grip in your hair gets tighter and tighter before it suddenly loosens. Breaking apart from your lips, both of you heaving, he presses his forehead against yours, “…Well?”

His eyes widen when your hands slide up from his chest and grip the back of his neck, pulling him back against your lips for another kiss. Left stunned, as soon as you speak, “Show me. Keep—” he’s right back against your skin, providing a less controlled kiss.

When he pulls back, “Mmm—oh my—” you don’t let him continue to speak, needing—badly so—to keep exploring whatever this feeling was, buried deep under the surface of your skin.

Sinking into it, losing yourselves in it, he’s quickly switching the angle, bringing his face back only an inch as his nose brushes against yours only to crash back down. This happens a few different times, the lasting kiss only getting deeper, more desperate—your mouths slowly opening for each other in the process.

Strangely, you can feel his reservation, and so you’re first, slipping your tongue into his mouth to meet his own. Timid at first, this turns into both of your heads cocked heavily to the side, welcoming each other gladly and rubbing the flats of your tongues against the other. It was like you already knew what he would taste like. Sweet, warm, and like a place you could call home…

Pressed against your desk, he parts from you when there’s an opening, gripping behind your left knee with his right hand, dragging it up along his own leg. As soon as he has your thigh up high enough, his lips are back on yours. He doesn’t push too far, try to wrap it around his hip, or explore too thoroughly, he simply holds your leg against his body, his fingertips squeezing your skin as his weight is able to bear down harder onto you.

With the ability to press into you more openly, you feel his hard length press into you. “S-sorry—ngh—”

“It’s o-okay—” It wasn’t, but right then…you wanted it to be. “W-we—” You moan when his lips find your jaw, then your neck—a lot more tender than that night. “Oh m-my god—” The feeling of his lips breaks and you can feel him smile against your skin before his lips are back on you, parted and pressing open mouth kisses to your neck until he reaches just beneath your ear.

“S-sorry that I gave you a hickey—” he pants against your neck, “I saw it…” He gently kisses the exact same spot the hickey was that by now had faded. “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to...”

You almost laugh, “Y-yes, you did.”

He groans, pressing his mouth back to that spot, sucking softly. “I w-won’t do it again, I’m sorry.” He kisses your skin, “I’m sorry. So sorry…”

“Mhm—ngh—”

Suddenly, he drops your leg and both of his hands return to your face, kissing you deeply, so long that you start to get dizzy and push on his chest lightly—seeking air. “Do y-you want me to stop?”

“Mm-mm. Just—” You felt nauseous, strange and somehow deliciously nauseous, “C-can’t breathe—”

He laughs softly, kissing your cheek. “I’ll catch you if you pass out.”

“Caleb!” You flick his chest with your finger.

“Sorry.” He smiles, leaning back in hesitantly to kiss you again, waiting for you to tilt in his direction before doing anything.

When you come back together again, it’s somehow more desperate than before. The desperation peaks to the sounds of throaty moans following from one to the next, exchanged by a lasting connection. Without warning, he bites your bottom lip, not too hard, but still. You whine, feeling the pressure of his length against you.

Unprompted, he pulls away, his voice different than it was minutes ago, “He’d probably tell you I’m an asshole.” He kisses you again, “Could never like you the way I say I do.” Again, harder, “That I could never be gentle with you. He has no idea.”

“C-Caleb—”

“He doesn’t deserve you. Couldn’t care for you like me. Couldn’t protect you like me.” He stares into your eyes piercingly, your skin burning not just from his touch, but also the searing intensity of this look in particular, “All I think about is this.” He grips your face, planting his lips on yours again, “Only this.”

“Mmm—”

Leaving you gasping, he suddenly drops to his knees. His hands find your hips, his face rubbing against your stomach. Your hands reach down and tentatively touch his shoulders, not knowing what to expect. “Just—” His fingers barely tip up the hem of your shirt, his lips hardly grazing your skin.

“I just—” His nose digs into your torso as he exhales deeply, “I want…” You feel like you’re trembling, unsure if what’s happening is actually real—actually happening. “I-I want to make you feel good.” His lips touch your skin again before he looks up at you, “So good… If you’ll let me…”

A hot flush rises in your cheeks and your stomach drops—picturing it, “I d-don’t know…”

“Fuck. Sorry, I’m s-sorry. I shouldn’t…say that…just—I do. I always do…” his hands grip your hips tighter as he presses his face back into your torso, his voice a whisper, “so fucking badly.”

Collecting himself and letting you go, he stands back up quickly, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry— I’m not trying to pressure you, I—”

You cut him off with your lips on his for a quick, rushed kiss, “H-how would you do it, hm?”

“O-oh—” he nearly coughs, his face immediately getting more flushed than it already is, “Lots of ways…lots, pips.”

“…You said you wanted to show me, so…show me.”

He stammers, practically groaning outwardly, “Y-you’re sure? Like—are you fucking with me, o-or…?”

Driven by a deep dark place of curiosity lusting to test the level of his devotion, “I am not fucking with you.”

“Don’t. I-I—” he grips your face again with both hands, “I want to. I—” His lips hover over yours, looking for restraint and unable to find it—anywhere. This was insane. Internally, you both acknowledged as much, but…you just had to get it out. You had to see what would happen.

Fuck it, he thought. Selfishly and pathetically, he thought if he did a good enough job, he could win this game Zayne and he had been playing for years.

“Okay—mmm—o-okay, yeah.” You smile softly, enjoying the sound of nerves that don’t usually accompany him or his demeanor. Your grin is cut short though when he’s pressing back into you with his body, his lips back on yours. When he pulls away again, the look in his eyes and the subsequent shift in his tone sends a raking shiver down the entire length of your spine, “Lay down.”

Both extremely jittery, you hardly speak over the next several moments. You sit down at the end edge of your bed, bracing yourself to scoot back with your hands. Before you can get too far, “W-wait.” You stop, and he leans in, hooking his fingers into your pants. You lift your hips, the eye contact between the both of you searing you to your core. 

Before he can settle between your legs, his lips land on your knee first, trailing up your thigh, “So pretty…” Eventually, he’s settling in between your thighs, running his warm palms up and down your skin, “You’re beautiful. So beautiful.” He trails light kisses to your thighs.

He laughs into your thigh, “I have to cope with humor and being a dick or I’ll lose my fucking mind.” His voice gets more serious again, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He exhales against your skin, pressing several kisses into your thighs between words, each kiss a bit deeper, adding a pressure that sends a shock through your nervous system, “So, so, so…mmm…sorry…”

Stopping himself, he looks up at you, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” You nod, but that’s not enough, “Pips, I’m serious.”

“Mmhm, mhm…I-I will…”

He sits up again, “Good…” His fingers slip under the edge of your panties at your hips and pull. Once they’re completely off, he swallows hard, trying to silence a soft hum from his throat at the sight of you.

It was shy at first, timid. He presses a light kiss against the rounded curve of your pubic bone, not quite touching you—yet. Again, a little lower. Acknowledging the pure insanity happening—that you gave permission to happen—you let your head fall back onto the pillows.

His voice is soft and quiet, “Look at me. …Look, I’ll show you.” He kisses with more pressure, directly over the hood of your clit.

“S-shit.”

“Just,” open, his mouth hovers over you, deep pants washing over your skin, “watch me, hm?” When he spoke those last words, his bottom lip grazes your skin. Holding your eye contact, he lets his tongue jut from his mouth, softly stroking your skin over your hidden clit.

“Mmm—oh—”

He does so again, but with slightly more pressure, “Mhm…”

“C-Caleb—”

“I’m right here. Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

You nod, swallowing harshly, “Mhm, y-yeah.”

“I’ll go slow.” Eventually, that became a lie. But not quite yet. It was slow, at first.

He makes gradual, soft licks over your slit until it naturally parts, already wet from the time spent against your desk, providing easy access to your clit as he pushes up. His tongue is warm, so fucking warm—the thought, feeling, and taste of it still lingering in your mind and mouth. In between licks, to calm the nerves surrounding you both, his lips press soft kisses against your skin.

When his tongue becomes more intentional and lasting, your chest starts heaving, the flat then more pointed motions causing your stomach to sink into knots.

With each squirm, he flattens, rocking the rounded center base of his tongue up and down in a slow grinding sensation. With each sigh and instance of relaxation, he points, flicking and circling your clit lightly, waiting for whatever motion would elicit the strongest reaction. He is surprised to find you reacted in particular to the slow, soft, yet intentional grind rather than any deliberate flick with his tongue.

He doesn’t mind though, this meant his mouth could be closer to you, taste you more openly, and if he just…let his mouth close around you, he could consume you completely.

The pull of his mouth has you lacing your fingers into his hair, pressing your body closer to him and pulling him in, “Caleb—oh m-my god—”

“That’s it—mmm—hold onto me.” From here, he increases in fervor, hums sounding from his throat at each physical and vocal reaction from you he obtains. Lost in the feeling and unable to focus on anything else, you miss him driving his hips forward into the mattress.

“Nngh—I-I—”

He pulls away, voice raspy, “Don’t stop looking at me.” He can barely finish his sentence before his mouth is back on you.

“S-shit—your tongue—oh m-my—” Realization settling in on who was about to make you cum, you minorly—for lack of a better word—start to freak out. “W-wait—wait—oh my fucking—nngh! God! I’m—f-fuck—wait—m’gonna, m’gonna—!”

Despite your words and your shock, you don’t let go of his hair nor do you stop the soft bucking of your hips, grinding your soaking wet cunt against his mouth. His eyes practically light up before relaxing into a heavy-lidded gaze again, moaning against your skin from the depth of his throat, not once stopping the movements from his tongue.

In short, unlike you pleaded, he doesn’t wait. After all, there was no “stop” in that broken sentence.

As soon as you start to properly lose yourself, your thighs tightening against his head, your head landing back into the pillows as your back arches, his hands snap up from your thighs to palm your hips, gently pressing and holding you down. When you relax into it, his hands slip underneath your shirt, gripping around your waist—only your waist.

“Mmmph—! Caleb! Oh m-my—y-you—ngh!” It feels like a never ending wave, his tongue particularly delicate against your clit to continue the feeling and ensure you ride out each and every portion of this violent feeling.

He offers only slight respite when you start to calm down, “Oh my god.” He licks you teasingly again, eliciting a whine, “You—” again, “T-that was—mmmph—” He pushes back in, lacking restraint and wrapping his lips around your clit to gently suck until you’re whimpering loudly.

“H-hey—” Your head snaps back up, only to see him with his eyes closed, “C-Caleb—nngh! Oh, f-fuck—I’m—”

Sucking a moment longer, when you sound near to exasperated tears through a shriek, he flattens, grinding his tongue against your clit until you cum for a second time.

Panting in pathetic, broken breaths, “O-okay—nngh—h-holy fuck—you showed m-me…” you breathe out deeply, “…y-you…showed…me…”

He chuckles, pulling away from between your legs before plopping down right beside you, a bit more like his usual self.

When you turn your head toward him, he’s already looking at you. You both share a glance to each other’s lips. You both know you probably shouldn’t, but…

Your eyes trail further, instantly landing on the painfully obvious outline of his hard cock through his pants. A thought crosses your mind, but when it passes, you both turn to look at one another with blushing faces. “No, n-no. Seriously. I…I just wanted to do that.” He chuckles quietly, “Well, um,” he clears his throat, “sorry.” You laugh, biting back a smile. “Sorry! W-what’d you expect, I just—”

He just made you cum with his mouth, twice. You press both of your palms against your face and interrupt him, “Oh, god…”

“It was really hot, you know. You’re pretty when you cum—really pretty…” Tentatively, his lips gently touch your shoulder, “Can I do it again?”

Your voice is muffled by your hands, “Caleb!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’m pushing my luck.” Knowing you well and sensing that you’re now feeling abashed, naked from the waist down with him fully clothed, he hops up out of bed. Also knowing where you’re likely to keep your things, he finds a pair of underwear and some shorts.

Walking back over, he hands them to you, slowly sitting back down, “…Thanks.”

While you’re wiggling yourself into the articles of clothing he brought you, he lays back down beside you. Once you’re dressed again, his forehead presses into your shoulder, “I meant everything I said, pips.” He sighs, lifting his head to look at you, “I—”

“Don’t.” You sigh before stammering, “W-we…”

“Why not?” His hand brushes against yours before pulling away, “Fine…” He sighs, “You already know. Of course you do. Just…think about what I said then, yeah?”

“M-mhm, y-yeah, I will…”

***

Perturbed and exasperated, Gideon exclaims on the other end of the phone, “Excuse me, what the fuck happened!?”

“It was so hot.”

“Okay, my god. Less details. As few as possible, actually.”

“I can’t stop jacking off.”

“DUDE! UGH, my god…fucking EW!” He sighs deeply on the other end of the call, mulling over the details shared against his will, “…She didn’t…?”

“No, no. I didn’t want her to. I didn’t ask.”

“Bro.”

“What!?”

“My god. This—t-this just keeps getting worse! You’re insane. Everything about this is insane! What the fuck!”

“Just because she didn’t—”

“That is not why I’m saying this is insane! …My god, dude.” He didn’t have the heart to tell Caleb that if you didn’t choose him, it would quite literally break him. He knew his best friend well—too well. The more this escalated, the harder the fall from grace would become.

***

A few days pass and you receive a voicemail. Conveniently, Caleb and you had both been busy, only seeing each other in passing with a subtle blush, maybe a text or two here and there.

Getting a moment to listen to the voicemail, “Hey…you, um…you never got the chance to open your gift, I don’t think. Could we…talk, maybe? You could open it and we could…talk—yeah. Why don’t you give me a call back when you can, okay? Alright, bye.”

Only a few hours later, you’re sat with Zayne at the end of your bed in your dorm. Your eyes are fixated on the small snowflake pendant of a dainty necklace. “I-it’s so beautiful, thank you. I—”

He interrupts you by clearing his throat, “I know we shouldn’t talk about it, but—I really am sorry, again. Um, you know me, don’t really drink—ever—so, I-I—”

“Zayne, seriously. It’s okay. We’re okay. This is a really sweet gift, thank you. Would you…” you cautiously hold out the necklace to him, “put it on for me?”

“Y-yeah, yeah. Of course.” You switch the angle you’re sitting at, turning your back to him. He swallows, “Will you…”

“Oh, yeah! Sorry…” Using one hand, you sweep all of your hair forward and over one shoulder.

He gulps quietly, a knot forming in his throat while staring at the same spot on your neck he put his mouth that night. Holding the chain in one hand, both of his arms come around you, his other hand unclasping the hook to bring the necklace toward you and lay it over your neck. 

His voice is quiet, “Okay, there.” 

Lifting your hair out and over the necklace, you turn back around with a smile, touching the pendant with your fingertips. “Thank you, Zayne.”

“You’re welcome. It looks really pretty on you.” You blush, your hands falling to your lap. Feeling a sense of emboldenment similar to that night, he tips forward, “Really…pretty…”

Your voice is a hushed whisper, “Zayne…”

His eyes dart to your lips before back up, “You’re really pretty…”

You both tip and tilt, slow and full of caution, until your voice cracks out of guilt and you speak suddenly, “C-Caleb and I— W-we kissed—like actually, kissed. I-I, I’m—”

His voice is sudden and surprisingly smooth—calm, “Did you get it out of your system?”

Your eyes widen, “W-what?”

“Did you both get it out of your system?”

“I-I—I think so—but…” you shake your head and swallow, your eyes snapping shut a moment, “we did more than—”

“Stop.” He blinks in a similar manner, turning his head slightly, “I don’t care.” Turning back toward you, glancing at your lips again, “Honestly, I don’t care.” He sighs, “He’s not right for you, you know that, right?” He looks into your eyes with a serious, pleading look, “He’s incapable of being right for you.”

You sigh, “Zayne—”

“Not even close to enough. Too arrogant. Too easily angered.” His jaw clenches, “If you think you owe him something, you don’t.” He shakes his head, “You don’t owe anyone anything.” He glances back to your lips—each sentence between the both of you bringing you closer, “You don’t…owe me anything.”

You feel his fingertips brush your thigh, “Just tell me, do you like me how I think you do? …Do you…like me how I like you?”

Your eyes flick across his face, processing the depths of his expression, “…Yes.”

“Good.” He leans even closer, his breath washing over your lips, “That’s all I need to know.” Slowly, the mattress dips the further you both lean into one another, “Nothing else.”

The kiss you share is a gentle, timid exchange, timed perfectly with a longing sigh from each of you, “Mmmph—” It’s slow and sweet at first, both of your hands reserved and either in your lap or on the bed.

He reaches out first, his left hand crossing over your waist to grip your right hip. He pulls away, “I-I’m sorry, you don’t— I’m not trying to—” Your arms snaking up his shoulders and around his neck silence him instantly.

You bring your lips closer to his again, your voice nearly an inaudible whisper, “Kiss me.” His eyes search yours thoroughly, searching for any resistance. When he finds none, he meets you again, much less tempered. “Mmm—”

As you hold yourself to him, his hand on your hip slides down your thigh, a slight tug under your knee bringing your thigh up onto his leg. When you break away, you both have a tame smile, one that only grows as he brushes his nose against yours.

You anchor your palms on his shoulders, swinging your thigh completely over his lap to straddle him. Despite still wearing a small smile, his eyes widen. You don’t allow that expression to last long though, cupping his face in your hands before crashing your lips down onto his.

As the kiss deepens, you feel the rim of his glasses touch your skin. Pulling away with a gasp, you both release a quiet laugh when you simultaneously reach for them. “Can I?”

His hand backs off, “Mhm…” Slowly, you pull them off his face. It was a rare sight—Zayne without his glasses. Your gaze softens when you truly get a good look them.

“Y-you—you’re so…handsome.” The flush already present on his skin immediately deepens. “I’ve— …I’ve always thought that.”

Sat in his lap, holding his glasses between your chests, both of his hands come up to your face, his thumbs stroking over your cheeks, “You’re…the most…beautiful woman I’ve ever seen—I’ve ever known.” Forgetting his glasses are still in your hands, you tilt toward his lips, “I’ve always thought that.” You both share another warm smile, the confession—while innocent and secretly already known—feeling so good to release and say aloud. “I’ll…always think that.”

The following kiss is intimately tender, your heads craning in opposite directions at the feeling of a more opened mouth kiss. Without parting from your lips, his hands gently take his glasses from yours, extending his arm out once he has them to place them on the bed as far as he can without leaving you.

As soon as he’s finished, his arms coil around your waist, drawing you closer to him. Between kisses, “Mm…I m-meant…what…I said…you don’t—ngh—owe me…anything.”

“Mhm,” you kiss him passionately again, your hips driving down into his lap, “I know.”

After falling back onto the bed together, somehow things end up scooted to the headboard as a cozy make-out ensues. Eventually, both on your sides, you’re completely entangled, one of his legs between yours. Without realizing it, you start grinding onto his thigh, desperate to feel more friction as soon as his tongue slips into your mouth.

Breathless, he pulls away, a small smile on his lips, his cheeks and ears completely flush. The look he gives you prompts you, “W-what?”

“N-nothing, you—” He doesn’t finish, instead applying pressure with his body until you’re completely on your back and only he is left on his side. Leaning in to kiss you again, his hand gently rests on your thigh, slowly working inward and gripping, squeezing your leg. Sighing into your mouth, his hand gets closer and further between your legs, feeling the warmth between them.

Your hand lands on top of his, delicately brushing your fingertips over his knuckles. Together, the pair of your hands slides up until his fingers are flush between your legs, applying a bit of pressure.

Deepening the kiss, you moan into his mouth when he intentionally rubs your clothed cunt, the base of his palm creating additional pressure near your pubic bone.

Eventually, his fingers slip beneath the confines of your pants and panties, “Is this okay?” You nod, angling toward him as his middle finger slips between your slit. He bites back a groan when immediately feeling how wet you already are.

“M-mhm—ngh—”

Dipping down, his finger drags back up and lands on your clit. His voice is quiet before he starts moving, “You’re sure?”

When you nod again, the pad of his finger delicately circles your clit, “Y-yes—oh m-my—”

“You’re so pretty.” His face nuzzles into your neck, his lips placing soft delicate kisses against your skin, “Beautiful…”

The tip of his middle finger is gentle, coaxing, and slow—easily drawing a moan from your lips. You sigh, a relaxation happening that spreads from your chest and out—everywhere, “Z-Zayne…”

“Tell me if,” his lips press against your jaw, “you want me to stop, hm?”

You nod against the pillow, “Mhm—y-yeah.”

“Good.” He sits partially up, his face hovering above yours. His eyes flick across your expression, stopping at your furrowed brows, your soft eyes, your parted lips…

His breath washes over your lips, his own mouth parting at the sound of a whine from you, his lips touching yours but offering no kiss. Your voice is a whisper, “I-it feels s-so good—ngh—”

“You look…” Your head hardly lifts, both of you teasing one another with the subtle touch of your lips, each gasp from your mouth making him shudder. With the feeling of his finger circling your clit, eventually—quickly—a moan breaks past your lips but is shortly silenced by his mouth crashing down onto yours.

As his tongue slips into your mouth, your legs raise, your knees up as you wiggle and start to squirm, the feeling of release quickly building. When you moan loudly into his mouth, it only makes him press his weight further into you, groaning in return.

Tipping back, his lips press into your cheek, his voice hoarse, “I want you to cum…”

“I-I—oh my god—”

“Mmhm…” You moan again not only to his intentional movements on your clit, but also to the feeling of his hard cock pressing against your thigh, a slow movement forward from his hips driving the pressure further.

“Z-Zayne—ngh!”

“That’s it…” Your head turns toward his, desperate to get your lips back on his.

The look in his eyes is one you’ve absolutely never seen before, your lips teasing each other again before leaning into it completely, your hips softly bucking into his hand when your lips finally meet, “Mmmph—”

You don’t stop kissing until your moans become overwhelming, your head turning away and down into the pillows, “Oh m-my god—nngh!” His face immediately nuzzles into your neck again, his mouth slow and tender in how he sucks your flesh, the drag of his finger slowing as he works you through the raw, tantalizing feeling.

He’s already starting to crawl on top of you before his hand completely leaves your panties. “Zayne—h-holy sh—” You can’t finish speaking before he’s recklessly meeting you for another kiss, his body wedging between your thighs as his hips drive into you.

“I’m s-sorry—” his lips press against yours again, “just—” again, deeper. You pull him closer, your hands threading into the hair at the nape of his neck.

Wrapping your legs around the low point of his waist, and in a moment between kisses, “Z-Zayne—”

His face nuzzles back into your neck, his mouth leaving a trail of sloppy kisses, “Mm—y-yeah?”

“I-I—ngh,” you moan to the feeling of his hard cock pressing into you, “I want y-you inside me.” He groans loudly into your skin, his teeth grazing your skin in restraint.

Taking a moment to respond, his hips roll forward several times—picturing it...imagining it. He’s not sure he really heard what he thought he did. Pulling his face out from your neck, he presses his forehead against yours, “Y-you—a-are you—”

You interrupt by getting your lips back on his, mumbling against his skin, “Y-yes—mm—yes.”

His hips don’t stop, “Do you hav— Are you really—ngh—sure?”

“Yes a-and yes.” You both let out a quiet, light laugh before kissing again.

“Mmhm—god, mhm—I want you…so badly.”

Your hands reach for the bottom of his thin sweater, starting to lift and tug, “Off. Take this off.” With zero hesitation, he sits up onto his knees and practically tears the garment off and over his head. Your fingertips delicately touch the skin of his abs, trailing upward toward his chest, “Y-you…"

His hands touch the hem of your shirt, “Can I?”

You sit up to support the action, “Mhm…”

“You’re so…beautiful— I’m—” You don’t let him continue, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him back down again.

Only a few short minutes later, you’re both completely undressed, somewhere in between you leaned and reached over to your nightstand, fumbling around for a condom while he kissed your thighs, your stomach, your arms…

Up on his knees in front of you, your eyes are fixated on his cock, the flush pink of his tip matching perfectly to his lips. You clench at the sight of a bead of slickness just before he rolls the latex down onto himself, “You’re sure? Please, tell me if—”

You smile, forcing your eyes back up to his to interrupt, “Yes, more than sure.”

He smiles softly, “Mhm—o-okay…” Bending down again, his mouth trails up your thighs before placing a light kiss against the top of your slit, driving a quiet moan from you and a groan from him against your skin. The thought…another time…crosses both of your minds—but instead land on simply being desperate to feel each other instead.

His mouth follows up your stomach, between your breasts, and back to your neck. By the time he’s at your neck, his cock is pressing into you, anticipation spreading between the both of you. He lifts to look at you properly, “Tell me if—”

You cut him off, your brows raising, “Zayne.”

He blushes, kissing you lightly instead, “Sorry. I’ll stop.” You nod with a small smile, wanting his lips back on yours instead. 

Slowly with the support of his hand, he guides the head of his cock along your slit, the graze against your clit before back down to your entrance leaving you whining. Watching carefully, he guides himself, sinking his tip inside your twitching cunt. You both gasp, quickly sharing a look. Letting himself go, both of his arms prop himself up beside you as you wrap your legs around his waist, the adjustment causing him to sink further. 

Your voices overlap, “Oh my god—mmm.” “Zayne—ngh—y-you…”

Pressing his forehead against yours, his brows knitting deeply as he pushes deeper, “Is t-this okay?”

“M-mmhm—” your voice cracks, “ngh—y-yes.”

Until he’s completely inside you, the kisses are slow, soft, and teasing, tiny whines from you and deep hums from him. Once he’s filling you to the brim, the pressure its most intense and with no space between you, you both moan, abandoning the intimacy of a soft kiss for a much deeper one. With your lips locked, his hips move back before driving forward again at a controlled pace.

When that pace picks up, you gasp, cocking your head back and away from his lips, tilting into the pillows beneath your head. “You’re—ngh—this is…”

“Mmhm—oh m-my god—will you, aah—thrust a little—mmm—faster…”

“Ngh—m-mhm…” Trying to temper himself as to not lose control too quickly, he still does as you ask. The subtle rock of his hips becoming one of intention, a small tilt each time toward the end, “You feel s-so good—”

“I-it’s—” You gasp and are silenced when one of his hands lowers, his palm applying a light pressure between the low of your stomach and the top of your pubic bone. Not, whatsoever, expecting the move from him, “Zayne—ngh!”

His voice loses its sense of control, “I want to feel you cum—mmm—while I’m inside.” The buck of his hips is not only now faster, but also harder, the pressure from him, his hand, and the tilt of his hips growing in how overwhelming it becomes.

When loud moans start to fall from your lips more frequently, he watches your expression carefully, his own lips parted, low moans coming him. “Mhm—” His palm lets up on the pressure, his thumb finding your clit instead, creating a bit more distance between you two.

“H-holy shit—ngh—y-you—”

“I’m right here—mmph—”

“D-don’t stop—oh m-my god—m’gonna—” Your voice cracks into a loud moan, your legs squeezing tighter around the low point of his waist, inadvertently forcing his thumb off your clit and his arm out from between you.

Your hands paw at his shoulders, tugging him down and closer, the thrust of his hips even faster as he buries his face in your neck. “Mmm—o-oh my—I’m—” Still not recovered, you shudder to the feeling his mouth—his teeth—sinking into your neck, a loud groan reverberating against your skin as his hips snap forward, slowing in speed but increasing in strength as he quickly finds his own release. 

“Z-Zayne—ngh!” You feel his cock twitch, your walls squeezing down around him, “Kiss m-me.” When his face departs from your neck, his mouth is slack and hovering above yours, another firm thrust forward from his hips as he continues to cum. The kiss is sloppy—needy—each of you exchanging deep moans trapped between your lips, his hips eventually slowing.

After several sweet, gentle kisses surrounded by endless panting, he’s careful in how he pulls out of you, your legs lowering beside him. Once you’re both laying beside each other again, you turn nearly simultaneously, sharing a look and immediately blushing, a quiet yet affectionate laugh coming from both of you.

***

“He did what!? And you fucking let him!?” Surprisingly, this was one story Gideon didn’t let slip to his girlfriend; probably because he didn’t want to think about it—not one bit.

“It’s…” you sigh, deeply, “there’s more.”

“More!?”

… … …

“You two did WHAT!? Yesterday!?”

You flail your arms across the table, “Shh, SHUSH! Oh my god…”

She points a finger toward your neck, “Wait—what are you wearing?”

… … …

“Oh. My. God.” She lowers her head before letting it snap back up, “Well…you’re fucked. Like, so…extremely…fucked.” What she didn’t want to say was: he’s going to find out. They’re both going to find out. Imminently. Technically, Zayne already knew. Well, sort of. He didn’t know what he knew exactly, but he knew.

You groan, folding your arms over the table and laying your head within. You knew you were, indeed, utterly fucked.

***

It only took a few days for that information—all of it—to slip amongst the group. Truthfully, you had no one to blame but yourself. But them, too; however, the guilt you felt was plenty strong enough to place everything on yourself.

Once that information made its way around, it took no time at all for Caleb to be barging back through your door. Only this time, it wasn’t to apologize.

Before he even can speak, he paces around your dorm, taking only a few steps back and forth while you bite the nail of your index finger. “You’re saying y-you don’t— I thought…” He laughs, and that scares you. “I’ve—I’ve been alone in these feelings for years? Sitting around like a dumb, pathetic third wheel?”

“Caleb…”

“No, no. You know what?” He finally stops moving, turning to face you instead. “Say it.” He exhales slowly, “Say you feel absolutely nothing for me.” You sigh, your lips parting but no sound leaves them, “Not one single thing. That it’s all just for him, hm?”

“I-I—”

“Go on. Not one, tiny, burning thing that eats at you from the inside like it does to me. I need to hear it and I’ll let it go. Forever.”

“C-Caleb—I—”

“You c-can’t just—ah! You drive me insane! I know I’m not insane. I saw how you looked at me. How you kissed me!” He folds his arms over his chest, “So, please, say it.”

“I-I can’t! I fucking can’t, okay!? Are you happy!? God, you’re so—” He’s quick to close the gap, taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips against yours, “Mmm—” your hands are weak against his chest when he pulls away, searching your eyes only to come back more intensely, “Cal—”

His jaw clenches as he presses his forehead against yours and his eyes close, his voice quiet, “Do you actually think…he loves you how I do?” He lets you go, stepping back. “He can’t! It’s—It’d be impossible!” You stand in place, your chest heaving. “I love you.”

Your head tilts to the side in warning, your jaw clenching as you give him a stern look, “Stop it.”

“Did he tell you he loves you?”

Your breathing shudders, “Caleb, I’m serious.”

“I. Love. You.” He steps closer again, “I know. I fucking know some part you loves me, too. Loves me more than what we say on the surface.”

“Caleb!”

He comes right back, “If he won’t say it, I will. I love you. I love—”

While you interrupt, “S-stop…please, I-I—” he’s close enough to take your face in his hands again.

“I love you.” There’s a brief silence as you stare at one another. In the midst of the silence, your breathing only mutually gets faster and faster before you’re recklessly coming together in a heated kiss.

Between passionate kisses, “Just—ngh—stop…talking…”

“Whatever—mmm—you have…had—it can’t—ngh—I know…it’s not…like this.” He breaks away properly, staring at you intensely, watching for any micro expression written on your face, “It can’t be.”

Your lips brush but don’t properly touch, “Just—stop it…” You’re the one to meet him intensely this time.

“Ngh—no—” He pulls you off his mouth using his hands, “Look at us!” You come right back, “Mmm—” He repeats the process, his forehead pressing against yours as he speaks affectionately, “Look at you…” He returns, a groan from his mouth to yours, “Fuck—you make me crazy.” Again, and again, between each confession, “So fucking crazy… I need this… I need you…” Each time he speaks between a kiss, it only makes you come back to him needier than the time before, “Say stop—mmm—right now—ngh—and I’ll stop.”

Without the time to respond, he’s already kissing you again, “Ngh—oh m-my god—mmm—” His hands leave your face and find your waist, then your hips, walking you the short distance back until your back presses against the door of your dorm.

Breaking away with a gasp, he speaks earnestly, restraint slipping further and further away with each kiss, “Say it.”

“Y-you—”

He interrupts, “Hm?” He takes your hands and lifts your arms above your head and against the door, “What do I have to do, hm?” Pushing his fingers into your palms, he threads his fingers into yours until they’re laced, “It’s me.” Holding you there, his lips are back on yours, speaking yet again between desperate kisses, “You h-have to—tell me—to stop.”

“D-don’t stop.”

“Again.” His lips touch the corner of your mouth as you moan from the pressure he creates with his hands—his body, “Tell me again.”

“Don’t s-stop.”

His tone then carries a certain grit that makes your blood boil, “One more time.”

“Fuck you! Don’t fucking st—” Silencing you mid-sentence, his lips quickly make their way back to yours, “Mmph…”

He breaks away with a gasp, “Oh, now you’re mad at me, huh?” With his breathing rapid and beating down against your mouth, “How long can you keep that up? Were you mad when you were practically screaming my name when I made you cum?” His knee slips between your legs, “Didn’t seem mad to me.”

You huff, “Y-you’re such a—”

He interrupts, “Go ahead.” He presses more of his weight into you, “If it makes you feel better, I can take it.”

“Asshole!”

He nods, “Mhm, that’s right.” His hands squeeze yours tighter, “Deny all you want. All you need to. Doesn’t change this feeling, does it?”

The look in your eyes tempts him to crash down again, “Mm—ngh!”

When you nip his bottom lip with your teeth, he parts from you, a small smile in tow before he comes back down, “Mhm, that’s it—f-fuck—mmm—”

Suddenly, he lets go of your arms, dropping to his knees—like he did before, only this time it wasn’t out of desperation. Instead, his movements contained an unrestrained desire to prove you wrong. So wrong.

He presses his lips against your clothed cunt, applying ample pressure with his mouth while his fingers sink underneath all of the fabric at your hips. Once his mouth is off you, he’s yanking everything down with a swift tug. Slowly, both of you taking labored, angry, breaths, he lifts your feet one at a time to get your clothes completely off while staring up at you.

When you’re bare from your bottom half down—again, rather than do what you think he might, he grips your hips in his hands hard, turning you around and pressing you against the door. “O-oh—” You’re silenced by the feeling of his teeth nipping your ass, descending to bite your thigh, and your ass again before upward toward your hip. Each bite makes you whine, your hands pressed against the door beside your chest providing you the only distance from the door.

Standing back up, he draws your hips back toward his own, the feeling of his hard length contained by coarse jeans making you moan. Letting go of your hips, his hands slowly brush all of your hair to one side of your shoulder and over, finding the clasp of your necklace.

His fingers delicately find the clasp and unlock it, slowly pulling it off your neck. “I don’t…” from one end, he holds the chain near the door and beside your face turned against the wood, “want to look at this.” As soon as he finishes speaking, he drops it to the ground. With force, his hands come down on the door, his face leaning in toward your exposed neck, his lips pressing back into you, causing you to gasp.

His lips find your ear, “I should give you another hickey.” His teeth nip the edge of your ear, “As many as I can, actually.” You whimper softly when his right hand leaves the door and snakes around your waist, pulling you closer against his body. “That way…” he lowers slightly and presses his lips tenderly against your neck, “he’ll get the message—” again, with more fervor, “not…to touch…what’s mine.”

You can’t help but moan, especially when his right hand drops from your waist and weaves down between your thighs. You whimper when his middle finger pushes past your slit, his lips on your neck again. He chuckles quietly against your skin, “You like that idea, hm? You’re already so fucking wet. Ready for me to make you cum again, huh?”

“S-shit—Caleb—”

“Mm-mm, I’ve got you right where I want you.” His teeth nip your ear again, “…Right where I think you want to be, hm?”

You moan loudly as his middle finger toys with your clit, nodding against the door, “Mmhm—ngh!”

“Good… I’m curious, pips. Did he get you this wet, hm? Did you even cum?”

“F-fuck—shut u-up, stop t-talking.”

“Mm-mm. I want to know. Were you grinding your cute ass on him before he fucked you? Soaking wet just from kissing him?” He arches over slightly, pulling you closer, slowly slipping his finger into your dripping cunt, causing a loud gasp to rip from your throat. “Where did he put his mouth, hm?” Quickly, your right hand snaps off the door to grab his wrist, but not to stop him—to anchor yourself. “I need to know…” Retracting his middle finger almost completely out of you, he pushes back in with the addition of his index finger. “…So I can put my mouth there instead.”

Your grip on his wrist loosens, “Oh m-my god—”

“Mhm—fuck—you feel so good—”

“Caleb—h-holy fuck—”

“Mm-mm, wanna make you cum just like this—with just my fingers.” His voice becomes a whisper, “Remember, I told you. …Lots, and lots, of ways.”

Pumping in and out, his lips touch your neck between each stroke of his fingers, “With my mouth—hmph, did that—now with my fingers…” You moan with each angle change and twitch. He only presses his cock harder against your ass, “I think you know what’s next after that…”

“Oh my god—nngh—”

“S’warm…s’cute—wrapped around my fingers like this…” Intentionally, the pads of his fingers gently press into your G-spot with slight pressure, “Did he touch this?”

You eek out a pathetic moan, his voice a hiss by your ear, “With his fingers or his dick, hm?”

“Fucking—nngh! S-shut up…”

His teeth sink into your neck like they did that night, hard, “Doesn’t matter.”

“S-shit—”

He groans, “That’s it, gonna cum already, hm?”

“N-no—ngh—”

“Mmm, but I can feel it—“ his fingers push against and massage the spongy wall of flesh, “you’re squeezing me.” His tongue runs along your neck before he speaks again, “God, this would feel so fucking good around my cock.”

“C-Caleb—I’m—”

He interrupts, his voice smug in your ear, “Thinking about my dick inside you, hm?”

“Nngh! M’gonna—oh m-my god—w-wait—”

“No more waiting. I want you to cum—just…like…this.” When you start to shake and whine, you release his wrist completely and press your hand back against the door as his fingers curl and press, “Picture it’s me, deep inside you—” He moans when feeling your walls clench around his fingers as a direct result of his words, “Mmm—fuck.” His voice becomes gravely when you start trembling, moaning loudly as you cum, “Mhm—good job…”

After you both pant and stay as you are a moment, he eventually steps back from you. As soon as you turn around, you stare at each other a moment before coming back together—like putty in his arms. Wasting no more time, he’s stripping you of the rest of your clothes. In the midst of things, all you manage to get off is his shirt.

You gasp loudly when he bends and scoops you straight off the ground by the backs of your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist. After approaching, he practically tosses you down onto your bed sideways. “Did he fuck you right here, hm? Right where I made you come?”

“God—ngh—” you tilt your head back onto the bed, your tone weak, “just shut the fuck up!”

“No.” Unbuttoning his pants, he lets them fall to the ground and steps out of them, “I’m gonna fuck you in the same place—better.”

Crawling onto the bed, he stays up on his knees between your thighs, “Show me where he put his mouth.”

Your eyes are practically glazed over when you weakly point your finger to your thighs, all over your stomach, your chest, your neck… His mouth follows anywhere you point, his teeth frequently sinking into your flesh, nipping before he kisses and sucks. “Oh my god—”

“Mhm—every place.” Once he’s close enough, he nips at your chin before going back down toward your chest, kissing along your throat first. “Everywhere else, too.” With his hands, he yanks up your clasp-less bra against your clavicle. “Here, hm?”

“N-no.”

“Seriously?” He scoffs, “God—what a—”

You whine, interrupting him, “Just—!” Before you can say anything else, he’s interrupting you by taking one of your breasts into his mouth, immediately groaning into your skin and pressing his hips down into you. “Oh m-my god—”

“Mmhm…” His other hand raises and gropes your opposite breast. Not waiting long, he’s switching sides with his mouth, his hand applying pressure while he sucks.

“Fuck, p-please—h-holy shit—inside—I want y-you inside me—please.”

His hips continue to drive forward with force, moaning when he lets you go and brings his face to hover above yours, “Did you beg him like this?”

You eek out a weak moan, “S-stop it.” 

He uses one hand to push his briefs down, “Did you?” You gasp when the underside of his cock grinds against your soaked slit, a moan of his own spilling out at the contact.

“Mm-mm—p-please—!”

Between heated, nearly angry, kisses, “A little more—ngh—I want to hear—mmm—how bad you want it.”

“I w-want it. I fucking—ngh—” sharing sloppy, wet kisses, your hands are everywhere you can get them—on his face, neck, shoulders, and arms… You miss his hand slip between the two of you, angling his pathetically hard cock with your entrance, “I-I need it, p-please.”

You gasp when his tip presses into your entrance, “Oh m-my—” He doesn’t let you speak, crashing his lips onto yours, drinking in each whine you give him with each inch he provides.

“C-Caleb—nngh!”

“Y-you—this—mmm—” he groans loudly, his forearms coming down by your head, boxing you in, “mine…fuckin’—ngh—mine.”

When his length is buried its full extent inside you, completely—utterly—skin-to-skin, you’re both gasping desperately, his forehead pressing against yours. “It’s n-not the same. I k-know it’s not. Can’t be.”

Your neck cranes and your lips brush against his, “C-Caleb—nngh—y-you feel—”

He interrupts, groaning, “You’re perfect—s-so perfect—you feel amazing—nngh—”

When he really starts to thrust, you both lose it—lose yourselves. Each one a bit faster, harder than the last. The raw feeling of him has you pawing—clawing—at his back, moaning loudly out into the room. Occasionally—truthfully, much more than occasionally—his mouth his hot on yours, trying to keep each and every moan that escapes your lips. He wants—needs—to claim them all for himself.

When you can’t stop saying his name, over and over again, a pained gasp mixed with a grunt rips from his chest, “Oh my god—I’m—I’m gonna cum—”

“Caleb—nngh—w-wait—” you’re trying to warn him, but each next thrust is more powerful than the last, “Caleb!” and all you can do is moan, scream his name as you start to reach your own release at the repeated plunge of his cock hitting your G-spot in just the right way, “Mmph—h-holy f-fuck—!”

Still shaking from the start of your orgasm, he’s quickly—and for him, regretfully—slipping out of you completely, his twitching cock pressing and grinding against the top of your slit while his hips continue to buck forward, “Mmm—nngh!” Numerous ropes of his cum hit your stomach—some even all the way to your chest.

Panting loud exasperated breaths, you both stare down, having watched the entire scene unfold, “Oh m-my god…”

Still slowly grinding against you, you’re whining at the friction while he groans, “Mmm—h-holy shit—” Tentatively, your eyes meet again.

“C-Caleb, I—” The way you begin to speak makes him shake his head, still shuddering and panting.

Taking slow and nonchalant steps forward, as a wet strand of hair falls down over his forehead, he takes both of his hands and rakes his fingers through his hair, pulling it all back again and in place. “Babe, have you seen my— Hey, what’s the matter?”

Your lips part, but nothing comes out. Your eyes finally relax as they fall and follow a single droplet of water that descends past his chest, down his abs, and disappears at contact with the towel at his hips. You swallow hard, your lips finally closing.

Your eyes linger on his hips—on his V-lines that disappear beyond the towel. That is, until he speaks, “Hello, earth to pips!” Your eyes snap back up to meet his, but, they quickly flick between his eyes and his hair.

“Mm, um—y-you—” You blink slowly, shaking your head, “Your hair is—i-it’s getting kinda long, n-no?” You’re trying to fight against an active pant. You’re not sure the last time you even got a good look at his forehead. The answer probably was in the shower—together—but it’d be hard to remember details…

“What? Don’t like it?” He places his hands on his hips, “I can go get a trim this week, hm?” He offers you a warm smile, happy and willing to do whatever you ask of him—and get rid of anything you don’t like.

You sit up in your seat, “N-no—I didn’t say that...” Not meaning to, your tongue parts past your lips, the action prompting you to pull your bottom lip between your teeth before you speak again, “It’s...pushed back...”

“Well...yeah,” he nods, running a singular hand through it again while speaking—tempting your mouth to fall open again, “been getting in my eyes when I try to shave.”

Your mouth somehow feels wet and dry at the same time, “It’s…”

“Geez pips, what’s the matter? You hate it?” He pouts, cocking his head to the side.

“No! ...No.” You set your phone down, scooting down further, “It’s cute...really, cute.”

He steps forward, smirking, “Oh, is that so?”

“Mmhm...it’s actually...so sexy it’s—” he laughs and you follow suit before continuing, “it’s blinding me— Please, go put a shirt on.”

He gets even closer, too close, his voice a coo, “Ooo, I see.”

Stuttering, you scoot back a bit, “H-hey—y-you—mm-mm! Back up!”

He raises his brows, “Should I drop my towel while I’m at it?” When you don’t reply, one of his hands grips the edge of his towel folded over his hips.

You laugh nervously, “S-stop it! No! ...No.”

Letting go of his towel, he grins, looking you up from head to toe, “You look really cute, too, you know.”

“Caleb—I’m serious—you b-better—”

He gets close enough that his shins are brushing against your feet dangling off the lounge chair. “Especially when you’re blushing from how cute you think I am.” He bends down to meet your eye-line, “Oh, I’m sorry. How sexy I am.” His grin is wicked—you want to hit him.

You get a whole body shiver just from the look in his eyes, which, joking or not, the intent is there and creates a rich sense of anticipation, “Quit it!”

He bends further, “All nervous...hm?”

You try to steel your expression, “I am n-not!”

“Your face doesn’t lie, pips. Especially not to me.” Slowly, his fingers wrap around your ankles until he has you in a firm grasp in his hands. “C’mere—” With a swift tug, he yanks you down until you’re resting at the edge of the lounge chair, your legs spreading and going past his own.

“Y-you—!”

He lets your ankles go and presses his palms flat against the chair just beside your hips, leaning down until his face is directly in front of yours, “Mmm, you’re s’fuckin’ cute when you’re all flustered…”

“I’m not flustered! Y-you just—”

He interrupts, still grinning, “Stop stuttering, then.”

You reach out and flick his bare chest with your finger, “Quiet, you!”

“Ow!” He chuckles, rubbing the spot with his hand while pretending to pout. Once he’s finished, he puts his hand right back where it was. “Don’t act naughty with me just because seeing me out the shower got you all hot and bothered.”

“Caleb!”

“What?” He smile is devious, “Mmm…c’mere, you.” Without a proper warning, he’s sinking his fingertips into your waist, pulling you straight up and out of your seat.

“H-hey!”

“S’fucking cute…you’re coming with me.” You giggle, trying to “fight” against his grasp but wrapping your legs around his waist anyway.

After walking a short distance toward the couch, he turns around while holding you to him. You gasp when he plops down onto the couch with you in his arms. Despite the fall he let himself take, he’s careful to hold you up right in his lap. You press your hands against his chest, “You’re—!”

He laughs, cutting you off by pressing his lips into your cheek. “Go ahead, run your hands through it. I know you wanna…” He extends his words in a way that is irritatingly cute.

“Mmm…ugh—y-you—”

“Shush, go ahead.”

You try to say as flatly as you can, “It’s wet.”

“Mhm...wanna help me dry it?”

“Caleb—!”

“Go on…”

Offering up an unsatisfied grumble, you bring your hands up to his forehead, gently pushing your fingers into his wet hair. He hums, leaning back into the couch while gripping your hips a bit tighter. As you push your fingers back, you stare at his hair while he stares at you.

Your voice becomes a whisper, “You’re too cute... You’re not allowed to go outside looking like this.” You pull your hands back only to slip them right back through his hair, this time letting your pinkies line up with the tops of his ears as your hands slide through his hair from the sides of his head rather than the top. He groans, tilting his hips up into your lap. Once your hands pass completely through, you let your fingers trail down the sides of his neck, “Too handsome…”

“Mmm...l like when you’re jealous. But I could say the same about you. If I had my way, I’d never let you go out...” Tempted by the low rumble of his voice, you let your face get closer to his, your lips only mere centimeters apart. “You’re just for me, hm?” One of his hands comes up to caress your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin.

“Mmhm...” You tip further forward, almost whispering against his lips. “And you’re just for me...”

“That’s right—” He meets the other side of your face and with both hands now on your cheeks, pulls you in for a hasty kiss, sighing deep from his chest at the feeling of your lips against his.

You press your forearms against his chest and sink into the kiss, your fingers still a light touch on his neck and his hands on your face holding you close. Allowing a soft “mm” to leave your mouth and enter his, you both crane your heads in slightly opposite directions to deepen the kiss.

Breaking away, he pecks your lips with his once before speaking, “Ngh—” He groans, “Sit up for me.” You do as he says, lifting up off his lap. Quickly, his right hand leaves your face and he slips it beneath his towel, adjusting the uncomfortable angle of his hardening length.

As soon as his hand disappears, you let out a small giggle, instantly putting two and two together. “Hey! Don’t you laugh at me!” He pinches your side with a smile on his face, “You’re the one sitting on me, rubbing up on me, telling me how cute I am.” You sink back into his lap, now easily feeling his hard cock against you and offered up for you to grind against beneath his towel. You let out a quiet hum, twitching against him. His chest heaves under the press of your forearms. “What’d you expect, hm?”

You let your arms lift off his chest and snake behind his neck, allowing one of your hands to grip the hair at the back of his neck, pulling just hard enough so that his head cocks back. You bite his chin playfully until he groans. When you release him from your mouth, “You didn’t have to come over here! You’re the one who—”

Panting with a sly smirk, “Fine. Should I get up, then?”

You scowl, “No…”

His look becomes smug as you loosen your grip in his hair, “Thought as much.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “You—! I’m gonna bite you.”

He smirks, “You just did that. But please, do it again.”

“Ugh! Caleb—”

“S’cute...love it when you want me.” The way he says so makes your brow quirk.

“I always want you.”

“Yeah but…” his hands land back on your hips, “when you really want me.”

You offer him a short, but sweet, kiss, “I always really want you.”

“Shush, you. You know what I mean.” He grips your hips tighter, “When you’re nice and hot for me, can’t hold back…mmm…s’hot.” You laugh at him and roll your eyes.

“Who said I couldn’t hold back?” His eyes glance down to your hands on his chest, your nails sinking into his skin. “Oh, shut up.” Before he can speak again, you’re pressing your lips against his as he fights a small smile. “God—why did you have to come out looking like this?”

“Just to tease you, obviously.” You pinch his skin with your nails, “Ah—!”

“Fine. I’ll get up, then.”

“No, no...no. Mm-mm, you’re staying...right…here…hm?”

Relaxing into his touch, you let your hips drag on his lap, trying to get as much friction as you can from him with a controlled, subtle movement, internally not wanting to give him the satisfaction of appearing—being—pitifully desperate for him.

Slowly, his fingertips slide upward away from your hips and underneath your shirt, beginning to crest on your waist. “You know what I just realized?”

“Hm…?” You sound lazily, continuing to grind yourself down onto his hard cock.

He fights back a groan, his chest rising more dramatically as you apply pressure with your hips, “I’m practically naked…and you’re wearing far too many clothes, pips.”

Your voice is murmur, focused on the feeling he provides, “Why don’t you…help me out of some, then?”

“Mmm…that I can do…” Waiting not at all, he’s tugging your shirt off and over your head, “So beautiful…”

Trying to regain some control, “You’re not so bad yourself...”

“Oh? I thought I was blindingly sexy, hm?”

You grin, fighting a chuckle, “Eh, I was being overly dramatic.”

“You—!” His jaw clenches but his lips are still curled into a smirk, but when his jaw relaxes again, he lets out a laugh. His hands release your hips and come up to run through his hair. “Overly dramatic, huh?”

As you watch him, “Uh-huh…” He laces his fingers behind his head, his elbows out and bent, a slight flex occurring in his biceps. You whine at him, “Stop it! You’re doing that on purpose!”

He angles his hips up into you, causing you to gasp, “What am I doing on purpose?”

“Ugh! You’re r-ridiculous...” Instinctively, you reach between the space created by his arms and palm his biceps. When you give them a gentle squeeze, he can’t help but groan.

He smiles, “Go on, pips. Tell me how sexy I am.”

After one more squeeze, “Quiet, you.” You release his arms and get off his lap.

“Hey—wait—”

“Shush. Keep your arms there, no touching.”

His brows lift and a small smile returns to his face, “Oh?” Standing in front of him you wiggle your shorts off. “Mmm…” His arms twitch and you watch him carefully, making sure he doesn’t move. You turn around in front of him, slowly dragging your panties down with a slight bend at your hips. “Fuck—”

You hear him move. “Ah, ah. What’d I say?”

He sucks in a breath, a throaty chuckle sounding, “Oh, you’re good. This is just mean.”

You turn to face him again, “You started it.” Holding eye contact with him, you let one of your hands slip behind your back to unclasp your bra. He watches it hit the floor, a twitch in his legs.

When you stand closer between his knees, he goes to lower his arms but you press your palms against his elbows to stop him, holding him there. “Mm-mm. You put your arms there, you can leave them there, hm?”

While you hold his arms up by his elbows, his eyes flick down to your bare chest, “Nngh—oh, come o-on, don’t be like that, babe.”

You grin, “Don’t be like what?”

“Mmm—” You let his arms go but give him a stern look. His gaze becomes heavy as he obliges, leaving his hands laced behind his head. 

“Stay.” He tilts back, his jaw clenching. “Good boy.”

He moans hearing those words, “Ngh—pips—”

“Shh.” You reach down and tug apart the connection of his towel. “Mmm—” He sucks in another breath, his head tilting down to glance at his cock before back at you, not without stopping at your chest first, though. You look back to him, but only after having a hard time peeling your eyes away from his cock, “Now we’re both completely naked, happy?”

“M-mmhm…” He lets out a groan, fighting to stay still as his abs visibly clench, “Don’t tell me y-you’re gonna sit on my cock and not let m-me touch you...”

You crawl back onto his lap, “Hm…we’ll see.”

“F-fuck—I take it all back—just let me—”

“Shush.” As you sink down into his lap, your slit, already dripping, finally makes contact with his skin.

“Oh—fuck me—”

You let your hips press forward as you grind against him, “Mmhm, I’m about to…”

His arms flex, hard, “God—”

You interrupt whatever he may have said next, “You’re bad at staying quiet—and staying still—you know that?”

Staring at your chest, his voice is mumble, “Mmhm…”

Lifting onto your knees beside his thighs, you grip his length, drawing the head of cock a short distance between your slit that parts easily. “H-holy fuck—” He moans, “S’wet already, hm? I r-really am that sexy, huh?”

You drag the head of his cock between your slit until he moans again, “You’re not making this any easier on yourself.”

“S-shit—sorry—fuck—put m-me in—please.”

“Oh? A shift in attitude, hm?”

“Uh-h-huh—p-please—I wanna feel you s’bad—” You hum contemplatively, slowly and softly rubbing him against your clit until you moan. “My god—”

With a smug tone, “Beg a little more, handsome.”

“F-fuck—p-please—I want you wrapped around m-me—please, babe—oh my god—”

“That’s more like it.” Wanting him desperately and trying not to let that fact slip, you let the head of his cock press into your entrance.

His voice becomes a hiss, despite being amply wet just from seeing him and grinding on him, you’re both used to him making you cum with his mouth to his heart’s content before he’s inside you, “S-shit—s’tight—nngh—”

Holding firm, you try to fight a moan from cracking out through your throat as you slowly press onto him. “S-so pretty—mmm—let me touch y-you—”

“No.” He groans loudly at your refusal, unlacing his fingers from behind his head—not to touch you, but to extend his arms across the back of the couch so he has an easier time driving his hips upward.

You let a loud moan slip to the feeling, “Nngh—t-that’s cheating—”

Ignoring your comment, “Oh m-my—you feel s’good…f-fuck, kiss me—at least.” As you sink further down onto him, you bring your face as close to his as you can without kissing him. When he leans forward, you lean away. “Ugh—nngh—y-you brat—” When he says so, you let yourself sink down completely, “Mmm!”

Staying there a moment, you offer him a quick, short kiss, beckoning him to lean forward for more, “Oh, come o-on—nngh—”

You make a small circle with your hips, moaning to the feeling of him full up inside you, “You r-really are so handsome—nngh—”

“Babe—y-you’re so mean—just—” You interrupt and silence him by dragging your body up, the clench of your walls around him eliciting a deep moan straight from his chest. “D-don’t you want my h-help?” You shake your head at him, a small smile playing on your lips.

After you raise and lower—slowly—a few more times, he bucks his hips up hard, “Fuck—you feel s’good…look s’pretty—lemme help, p-please—”

Losing your ability to fight against desperation, “Fine.” He releases a deep groan at the instance of your permission, his arms coming off the couch instantly and his hands grabbing your face so he can crash his lips recklessly onto yours while he sits up. The change in angle makes you moan into his mouth, “Mmmph—nngh—”

After staying like that a moment, his hands go straight to your hips, “Knew you wanted my help—mmm—f-fuck—” His strength makes the glide up and down so much easier—faster.

“Oh m-my—C-Caleb—!” Leaning further into you, you arch back at the pressure of him. Staying completely inside you with his hands on your hips, as you lean away, he continues forward, his mouth immediately finding purchase on your chest. “Nngh!” Letting his hands leave your hips, his arms quickly coil around you, one of his palms flat against your back and holding you to him, allowing for a more dramatic arch of your back under his strength. Dragging your hips up and down the short distance you’re able, “H-how is this—ngh—h-helping?”

He ignores you initially, taking your other breast into his mouth, sucking harshly before his mouth trails to the side of your breast, sinking his teeth into your skin until you’re whining. At the sound of your whine, his mouth is immediately returning to same bud. He chuckles through a groan, flicking his tongue against you before popping his mouth off you with a gasp, “It’s helping me…”

“Ugh—nngh—” You press your hands flat against his chest, pushing him back against the couch. “Help me, w-why don’t y-you...”

“Mmhm—fuck—” His hands return to your hips, supporting you in lifting higher on his cock before back down. Your hands grip the back edge of the couch, pulling each time he pushes you up, each plunge back down onto his cock driving deep, loud moans out from your chest. “S-shit—you’re squeezing the hell outta me—feel like m’gonna—”

You interrupt, slowing down in the process, “Mmm—n-not yet…” He groans, fighting his imminent release. Realizing you’re driving a lot of the work now with your hands on the couch, he lets his right hand leave your hip. He dips his thumb into his mouth, wetting his skin before bringing his thumb down onto your clit, eliciting an instant moan from you.

“I want you to cum—ngh—” Your hands leave the couch, gripping his shoulders instead. Engrossed—obsessed—with the feeling of his cock and the slow tease of his thumb, your hands slip down to his chest while you whine and whimper. “Mmhm—that’s it…” As your nails sink into his warm skin, he’s tilting and driving his hips up harder, his left hand around your hip applying ample pressure to support the action. “God—you feel s’fuckin’ amazing—”

Clenching down around him repeatedly, your release easily breaks through as he works your clit in tandem with the thrust of his hips. Watching your expression carefully while you moan out his name, he lets himself enjoy the look of utter ecstasy on your face accompanied by the delicious feeling of you milking him. This, though, is quickly interrupted by the violence of his own release, a loud and guttural groan expelling from his chest as his head tilts onto the back of the couch.

After the initial shock, his thumb leaves your clit and clamps back down on your hip, holding you down and against him with both of his hands—desiring nothing more than to be completely buried inside you when he cums.

The intermittent twitches you feel from his cock send you forward, leaning into him to grab his face in your hands. Panting heavily and still moaning, your lips brush but don’t actually touch, enjoying the sights and sounds of each other’s end too much.

As things calm, you finally press your lips to his, “Mmmph…” You pull away and nuzzle your face into his neck, letting your hands slip back behind his head to play with his still wet hair. You wiggle your hips enough to elicit an additional groan, “Mmm—” His hands around your hips try to stop you from moving, “Well...I sure as hell know how I’m gonna wear my hair from now on.”

Your head snaps up from his neck, a pleading look in your eyes, “You can’t!”

He smiles warmly, brushing some hair away from your face, admiring the look of you—flushed and satisfied, “And why not? ...Afraid you’ll want me too much?”

You tug at his hair again, “You—! You’re so infuriating!”

“And you—” he taps the tip of your nose with his finger, “are so adorable.”

***

The next several weeks, Caleb avoids getting a haircut. He takes each and every post-shower opportunity to come find you, just to see you blush. During this time, he absolutely takes note of how much you’ve been running your fingers through his hair—holding his eye contact—while he makes you cum, over, and over, again with his tongue.

Appearing to you with pushed back wet hair and in a towel, “You’re gonna wear out how cute I think you look, jerk!” You still blush.

“Hmm, uh-huh, sure…” his voice trails off back down the hall, so he gets louder, “I doubt it!”

You chuck a pillow toward the hall as he disappears, “Ugh!”

***

At the next more extravagant gathering for the Fleet, to your dismay, Caleb intentionally slicks his hair back. You grumble, “I can’t believe you...”

He speaks extremely sarcastically, a wide grin on his face, “What? Don’t like it?”

You speed up ahead of him, mumbling, “Stupid...cute stupid face—ugh, unbelievable…s’hot...”

Laughing, he catches up, “I’m planning on getting it cut tomorrow, actually.”

With him now next to you again, you grip his bicep with both of your hands, turning to him with pleading eyes, “No!” He raises his brows at you, fighting an intense smirk, “Ugh! Y-you! M’gonna kill you—”

He leans down and presses his lips against your cheek, “I love you, too.”

***

Later, back at home after the event, as soon as you both make it inside, Caleb finds the nearest counter to pick you up and put you on—his uniform still intact.

While he kneels down on the floor in front of you, after pushing your dress up your thighs all the way to your hips, “Tell me…who do you like more—” His breath washes over you, sending a shiver down your spine, his mouth as close as he can get to your panties without touching them.

He looks up at you with soft eyes, “Boyfriend Caleb with his hair slicked back or…” You suck in a breath, gripping the edges of the counter as he places your legs over his shoulders, “Colonel Caleb with his hair slicked back...hm?”

“You’re s-such an asshole—” Chuckling to himself, his lips press against you, creating a tantalizing pressure against your clit over your panties, “Ngh! …You’re n-never gonna—mmm—let this go, huh?”

He halts behind a yew sapling, ears perking up when he catches it. Hind leg scraping into the forest floor, as if readying himself to lunge. Internally, Valko snaps in warning; you know better.

His wolf obeys but pushes a sigh through his nose, sick of the way Valko's been getting between him and his target every time he takes their body.

They lie in wait as the group of humans congregate and idle, his wolf's sensitive ears painting the scene on their eyes' behalf. Conversation quieting, the metallic rattle of a chain-link gate, rusty hinges protesting as it clangs open and shut, their collective disturbance slowly swallowed into the seclusion of the No Hunt Zone until it's silent.

His wolf holds their body still for a heartbeat, two. His eyes narrow into a sniper-like scope when his target appears next to the van, figure outlined by moonlight.

Without any obstructions, the scent swells, strengthens. Growing teeth that sink deep into his coat, standing the fur on his body straight up until his hackles raise and his muscles tighten.

Piercing yellow eyes never veer from the lone figure as Valko's wolf skulks toward them. He pads soundlessly across the forest floor until his body is flush with the van. The human, none the wiser, now merely feet away, fixated on the device on their wrist.

This close, the scent's become overwhelming. It thrums through the air like a magnetic field, tuning everything out except for bone-deep, primal chant of mine, mine, mine that even Valko isn't immune to anymore.

His wolf takes one step closer, another, then another, and all-too-late Valko realizes that maybe this isn't the best way to–

"Stop."

The command bombards him with a swarm of realizations, ricocheting between man and wolf like agitated molecules in a heated chamber: how did you know that they'd been– scent; you were totally spying, sneaky little hellion– mine; buddy, there's a gun pointed at our– mate, mate, mate.

That last word is expressed aloud through a deep growl of frustration. Frustration over the distance between you, over Valko holding him back, and over everything else that's standing in front of this wolf and his newly found mate – including the gun in your hands.

You startle at the sound, but your arm never wavers. "Don't. Move."

That's it, sweetheart, Valko thinks. Don't let this big lug push you around.

But for the first time since he was a rowdy pup learning how to shift, Valko is unsure of his wolf.

Not that he'd hurt you, never that, no wolf would ever hurt their mate. But you're a human and he's still a wolf. An onyx-coloured beast with mahogany markings, as large as the vehicle parked next to him. Who's being kept away from his mate. Who might not be mindful of your boundaries, or his strength, when it comes to having you to himself.

Before Valko can react, find a way to forcibly take back their body, his wolf sits, tilts his head – and whines. A 200-pound apex predator who cowers to no one, feared by humans and creatures alike, whining.

Nothing about your stance changes, but a curious, considering light slightly softens your gaze as you continue to stare at Valko's wolf. He stares back and slowly rises. Places a paw forward. Another when you don't react, as if he's trying to act casual.

Your brow furrows and your head tilts to your right, a hesitant glimmer of recognition flitting over your face. His wolf halts, snout just a handful of inches away from you, calm and attentive on the outside. On the inside, he's impatient as hell. Visions of him rubbing his nose into your skin and leaving his scent all over you project as a constant loop in Valko's mind and all he can think is: please don't embarrass us.

Completely ignoring him, his wolf sends a low rumble through his chest, a sound used to soothe newborn pups. And though the fear doesn't smell as acrid and acute as it did just a few moments ago, neither Valko nor his wolf like that it's still present.

Cautious about closing anymore distance, he lowers himself to his haunches until he's below your eye level, noting the size of your pupils as you take his features in, the loosening grip on your gun, the dawning realization.

"Valko?" You ask, incredulous, accusing. And yeah, maybe a little more annoyed than he'd been hoping for. "Oh god, tell me you didn't–"

At the sound of their name, Valko's wolf lunges forward without warning, headbutting the gun out of your hand and burying his nose in it, snuffling and licking and nuzzling.

You yelp and your fear skyrockets just as fast as it retreats, smothered by a relieved, hysterical laugh that has his wolf smug for all of five seconds before you snatch your hand away.

"I can't believe you– When I said 'you' shouldn't have anything to do with this mission, I meant every version of you." The biting tone does nothing to wipe the charmed smile from your face as you wipe your hand on the back of your jeans. "Ugh gross, your nose is all wet."

He takes that as an invitation, pressing forward again, nudging into your hip, chasing the hand you're keeping from him behind your back.

Valko would like to roll his eyes at his wolf, at this lovestruck, downright pathetic behaviour he'd quite frankly never seen him display – at least, not since he was a yearling still being carted around by his mother. But with one small whiff of your delicious, intoxicating scent, he instantly gets it.

"I told you I'd find a way to bring whatever we find to your research facility," you say, voice clipped and low. "Do you not trust me?"

His wolf butts his snout into your stomach when you cast a quick glance at the gate behind you, affronted at your divided attention. Finally, you peer into Valko's eyes and sigh. "Can you even understand me?"

Hunter and wolf stare at each other for a moment, the rapid whoosh of a tail the only sound in the clearing. When too much time passes he whines again, to Valko's chagrin. Like a damn puppy.

"I'll take that as a no." you giggle.

You tentatively offer him your palm and he finally dives in, rubbing and licking as he circles you. Covering you in his scent. Covering himself in yours. Valko and his wolf love your taste, like flaky salt and pine sap. Like warm sunrises and crisp leaves. Like sweet and warm and home.

Valko raises a brow as his wolf chuffs and noses and yips like the attention-whore he is.

"Shh, you have to be quiet," you command, finally giving in and scraping your nails across the fur behind his ear.

His body melts beneath your touch until he's a puddle of fur at your feet, belly flashing, tongue lolling.

Dude, Valko projects in mortification, where's your dignity?

Unfortunately for them both, that's the last thing on his wolf's mind when your nails move to scrape beneath his chin.

Mate. He thinks back, in a tone equivalent to "duh."

Valko's wolf growls playfully when you glance at gate behind you again, mouthing at the rubber sole of your boots, wanting all your attention. An indulgent grin curls your lips, and you lower to a crouch to reach him better.

"You certainly act like him," you note with a murmur. His wolf shuffles forward with his hind legs, draping himself across your lap in a way that has you chuckling. "Exactly like him, actually."

"Big puppy eyes. All up in my business. Hyperactive as hell." He paws at your stomach a few times and you snort as you grab it and move it away. Valko's wolf chuffs in indignation, sticking his whole snout under your arm in a wordless demand. "Bossy."

You sigh, sinking your fingers into his pelt, scratching a spot along his flank that sends his tail thudding happily into the ground. "As if dealing with one of you wasn't enough."

Your hand travels lower, the softness of your breasts pressing into him when you reach deeper into his undercoat. His wolf's muzzle noses into the crotch of your jeans, resting at the apex of your thighs so he can breathe in your pussy, where your scent is the strongest.

"You're so big," you murmur, staring down at the way his head covers both of your thighs, the way they strain to hold up his weight. Your other hand nestles into the space between his ears. "And soft."

Valko and his wolf both snort. There's nothing soft about him right now. As it is, his wolf can barely contain himself from rutting into your thigh. And if he had their body, his cock would probably be leaking from how painfully hard he'd be.

Still, Valko warns him: behave.

And yet underneath the instinctual urge to breed his mate, even Valko can see there's an unfamiliar sensation of levity, of joy that his wolf is feeling. Valko's never really gotten this from him before. Aggression, irritation, sure. But, never this carefree sort of happiness.

"Look at these mitts of yours," you tease, pressing the softness of your palm to the rough pads of his paw with a wide smile.

And maybe Valko would too if he was an outsider looking in. Stumbling upon a massive beast on its back, snuggling a human a fraction of its size on the outskirts of one of the most dangerous areas of Linkon would be a sight.

Usually when Valko's wolf has their body, his mind isn't really present. He processes and documents everything that happens, but it's like his consciousness is disconnected. In the passenger seat, along for the ride.

He's anything but disconnected right now. And he's completely in awe of how differently his wolf is behaving. Wanting your attention, but not pushing. Horny, but deferring the urge.

Is this what meeting your mate does to you?

His wolf huffs in an absentminded reply as he plasters himself to your lower abdomen, your womb – my mate will grow our young – and Valko would be damned if that response wasn't as condescending as hell.

"Hey, what're you doing?" He's moving around now, getting more playful, and probably not watching his strength as much as he should as he rests his paws on your chest to lap at your cheek, judging by the way your arm darts behind you to brace your weight. His tongue darts out again, over your lips this time.

Valko freezes when you squeal and thump the side of his muzzle. "Stop."

But Valko's wolf doesnt even snarl. Instead, he settles back onto his paws, resting his head between them, glancing up with a remorseful whine in his throat.

When you roll your eyes and reach back out to pet him, he lurches forward and laps at your cheek again, making you giggle softly. "You're like a giant puppy."

A rustle stirs one of the bushes nearby, snapping both your heads toward the sound.

His ears flick once before he turns back to you, smelling nothing more than a squirrel darting around. But your attention stays fixed on the shadows, moving from the forest to the chain-link fence.

"It's probably not much longer 'til my team comes back," you murmur. You turn to face Valko and smooth your hands over his sides once more. "You have to get out of here, big guy."

He gusts out another whine deep in his throat, this one smaller, more pitiful. The bastard's begging.

"Go on," you urge in a low voice when he doesn't move, waving your arm toward the forest. "You can't be here when they come back."

He tries another tactic. Lowers his head to catch the leather of your belt in his teeth, gives his head a little shake in defiance.

You thump your hand over his snout with a stern, "No."

His ears flatten, and he answers with an indignant huff.

If Valko could pinch the bridge of his nose he would. C'mon man, pull yourself together.

"Sit." His wolf hesitates for only a moment before lowering his behind to the ground.

Unfortunately, even when he's sitting, his head remains above your eye-level, leaving you to rise to your toes in order to place your palms on either side of his snout.

"It was nice to meet you, big guy," you murmur. "Tell Valko I'll come and find him after this, okay?"

His ears flick at the sound of his name, but the only answer he gives you is a low, mournful whine.

"And..." Your fingers curl gently into his fur. "Deliver this for me."

You tug his snout down just enough to meet him halfway, pressing your lips to the soft velvet of the peach fuzz between his eyes and nose.

Valko and his wolf still, their heartbeats escalating as one in response to open affection from their mate.

Then, as if deciding he needs the final word, his wolf takes one last lick beneath your chin. Smug when the soft sound of your laughter becomes the last thing he hears as he finally, reluctantly, trots away.

Valko is more grateful than he wants to admit that his wolf finally listens. He's going to need every second he can get before he sees you again. To regain his control before he meets you back at the facility. To pretend his harebrained scheme to have his wolf meet his mate, feel your touch, hear your laughter, and taste your skin, hasn't completely unraveled him.

Because if your scent had been intoxicating, the taste of you is downright dangerous.

➻➻ MASTERLIST

NOTE: Just an excuse to write about Valko in his wolf form and use one direction lyrics as a fic name xoxo

The smell of your favorite takeout hits you before you even get the door fully open. Your hand stills on the handle, your bag slipping lower on your shoulder as you step inside and find Valko standing in your kitchen with the paper bags open in front of him, transferring food onto plates. A small smile tugs on your lips, because there is something ridiculous and tender about the sight of him there, too tall for the space, too broad beside your cabinets.

Valko looks up as soon as he hears you.

“There you are,” he says, his voice warm with the usual excitement.

You close the door behind you. “I’m impressed,” you say. “You were smart enough to order takeout instead of trying to cook without me.”

He huffs out a laugh, glancing down at the plates. “I know my strengths.”

You manage another smile as you take off your shoes by the door and set your bag on the small table near the entry.

In the kitchen, Valko keeps moving, the plates clinking as he finishes dividing the food. “How was it?” he asks. “You had a good time?”

You head toward the sink instead of going to him, reaching for a glass from the cabinet before you answer. “Yeah,” you say, filling it with water. “It was good.”

You take a sip of water and keep your eyes on the glass.

You hear Valko move behind you, and when you turn, he is near enough that you have to tilt your chin to meet his eyes.

“Hi,” he says, softer now, like the first greeting had not counted because he had been too far away.

“Hi,” you answer.

He leans in for the kiss he always takes when you come home to him. You give him just a quick press of your mouth to his, and then you pull back with your glass still in one hand and your other palm braced against the counter.

Valko does not comment on the kiss, but you catch the brief change in his face before he turns back toward the food, a small crease between his brows, there and gone quickly enough that you could pretend you missed it.

“So,” you say, lifting your glass again as you move closer to the food, “what did you order?”

His gaze stays on you for another moment. “The usual,” he says, reaching for one of the containers, “and something from the new place across the street because I wanted to try it.”

“Of course you did.”

“It looked good.”

“You say that about everything.”

“Not everything.” He opens another box and tips his head, considering it. “Most things.”

Despite yourself, you smile as you step beside him, looking over the spread he has arranged – the familiar dishes are there, warm and fragrant, but there are two new ones too, both still steaming as he moves them onto the plates. “Okay,” you admit, “that does look good.”

“Obviously,” he says, with the confidence of someone taking credit for cooking it himself. “And if we’re having cocktails later, we should eat properly first. Especially you.”

You let out a small chuckle, setting your glass down. “Yeah, yeah. You’re probably right.”

Valko asks if you want to eat at the table or on the sofa, and you say, “Sofa’s fine,” without really looking at him.

This time, he does not move back to the food.

You notice the way he turns fully toward you instead of only glancing over.

“Okay,” he says, his voice lower now. “What’s wrong?”

You shrug too quickly. “Nothing.”

His eyes stay on your face. “I know you.”

“It’s really not a big deal.”

“Then tell me.”

You breathe out through your nose and look away first, because the last thing you want is to drag the ugliness of it into your kitchen. Still, the words come out after a moment, plain and clipped, enough to explain but not enough to make a whole scene out of it. You tell him that, on your way back, some jerk threw a crude comment at you, that you ignored him, that it annoyed you more than you wanted it to, and that it was stupid anyway.

By the time you finish, your own mouth has twisted with irritation.

“Whatever,” you mutter, shaking your head as if that can knock the feeling loose. “It doesn’t matter – ”

When you glance at Valko, the look on his face makes the rest of the sentence disappear.

His jaw has gone tight, the easy warmth from a minute ago pulled into something harder and much less familiar. You have seen him annoyed before, but this is different.

“It’s not nothing,” he says.

The roughness in his voice catches you off guard, even though you know it’s not aimed at you.

You shrug again. “It’s fine. It’s not the first time, probably won’t be the last, so there’s no point making it into something.”

“Don’t do that.”

You pause.

His tone has gone firmer, and when you look back at him, his attention has not moved from you. For a second, neither of you speaks. His expression shifts into something more careful, and his shoulders ease a little as he reaches for you.

Your body moves before the rest of you catches up.

You take a small step to the side, barely anything, but enough for his hands to stop between you.

You turn toward the counter, taking the plate. “It’s not worth thinking about,” you say, a little too lightly. “Let’s just eat.”

For a moment, you can feel him watching you, and you keep your attention on the food. Then he picks up his own plate and follows you to the sofa, giving you enough room to sit first before he settles beside you.

The TV comes on a minute later, filling the silence. Valko eats beside you, quieter than usual, though his attention keeps coming back to you.

Instead of pressing you further about what happened, he asks about your friend.

The question helps more than you expect. You tell him about the bookstores you wandered into and the café you found by accident, all pretty lights and beautiful little details, with coffee that was better than you expected and dessert good enough to make you regret not ordering a second one.

As you talk, the better parts of the day start coming back in pieces.

You remember the table by the window, the sound of your friend laughing across from you, and the comfort of staying longer than planned because, for once, neither of you seemed to be rushing anywhere.

He listens like the details matter.

You are grateful he doesn’t ask why you stayed out longer than you said you would. He could have. The two of you had plans, and he had still come over on time, still ordered dinner, still waited in your apartment while you turned an afternoon coffee into nearly three hours outside. Instead of making you feel guilty for enjoying it, he seems pleased that you did.

You tell him about the lipstick your friend gave you. “She gave it to me because she thought the color would suit me,” you say, glancing toward your bag near the entryway. “It’s still in my purse.”

Then your gaze drifts to him.

He is already dressed for later, and you notice it properly now that you are sitting beside him. He looks handsome enough that, on any other night, you would have teased him for it immediately, just to see the pleased little spark in his face when he realized you had been looking.

You glance down at your plate instead. “You know, we don’t really have to go out.”

Valko turns his head toward you.

“We can just stay in,” you continue, already reaching for a lighter tone. “We still have food, and we could try to make dessert or do some terrible homemade cocktails. Then we can just cuddle and watch something.”

You expect him to agree before you finish speaking.

Valko has never needed much convincing to stay close to you for hours, especially when there is food, a sofa, and an excuse to tuck himself around you until you can barely move. It is one of the things you love about him, how openly he wants the simple comfort of being near you, how little shame he has about reaching for it.

Instead, he pauses.

His face shifts into something more serious, and the change is small enough that anyone else might miss it. You do not.

“Do you want to stay in,” he asks, “or do you just not want to be seen tonight?”

You stare at him for a second. Part of you wants to be annoyed that he did not take the offer, because staying in would be warm and easy and comfortable. Another part of you knows this should not surprise you at all. Valko is sweet, almost painfully so sometimes, but he has never been the kind of sweet that lets you hide behind a convenient lie.

You look away first. “I’m a little tired.”

He keeps his attention on you.

“I know you dressed up,” you add, softer now. “Sorry, I just – ”

“That doesn’t matter.”

You stop.

He sets his plate on the coffee table and turns more toward you. “If you’re tired, we stay here. I’ll make bad drinks, you can tell me they’re bad, and I’ll still pretend I did well.” His mouth curves slightly, though his eyes stay serious. “But I’m asking if that’s the real reason.”

You press your lips together.

He waits, and somehow that makes it harder.

After a moment, you stand and take both plates. “I’m just going to rinse these.”

Valko lets you go, then follows with the empty glasses, taking his place beside you at the sink. The two of you work in silence for a minute, you rinsing, him clearing the leftovers and wiping the counter, the routine familiar.

Then he speaks more quietly.

“We can go out,” he says. “You can wear whatever you wanted to wear.”

Your hands slow under the warm water.

“I’ll be there,” he adds. “You can just enjoy your night. If someone wants to be stupid, I’ll handle it.”

The words warm your heart, and this time the smile that comes to your face feels genuine.

The question is still there, waiting for an answer you do not have yet.

“I’m going to take a quick shower,” you say.

Valko nods. “Okay.”

*

By the time you come out of the bedroom, your skin is glistening from the body lotion, your makeup is fixed, and the dress you picked for tonight is smoothed down over your thighs, though the zipper sits open along your back where you couldn’t reach it.

You pause in the doorway with one hand holding the fabric in place.

The living room has changed while you were gone. Only the lamps are on now, with pillows and a blanket spread across the sofa and a TV show playing quietly in the background. Valko’s waiting on the sofa, and when he sees you, his attention lifts immediately, his face easing into a smile that is softer than his usual grin.

You suddenly feel a little shy standing there with your back half-open and your dress held together by your fingers.

“Can you zip me up, please?” you ask.

Valko stands without making you ask twice.

His fingers find the zipper carefully, and his other hand settles near your shoulder blade just long enough to keep the fabric steady.

When he finishes, he lets his hands fall away before you turn to face him.

“So,” he says, looking you over with a small smile, “we’re going out.”

You nod, smoothing your hands down the front of the dress. “Yes. Unless you really want to stay in now.” Your gaze flicks toward the sofa, the blanket, the pillows, the room made soft for you. “It looks like you already started getting comfortable.”

Valko shakes his head. “I was ready for either answer.”

That makes something in your chest loosen.

His eyes move over your face, then settle on your lips. “Do you need to finish your makeup?”

“Oh.” You glance toward your bag. “Yes, actually.”

Valko stays where he is while you use the mirror by the door, giving you space to apply it without leaning over your shoulder.

You press your lips together, studying the color first, then the rest of your reflection. A pleased smile forms on your lips, your posture straightening a little as you look at yourself.

“There she is,” Valko says softly.

You turn toward him, suddenly flustered by the realization that you were almost posing in front of the mirror while he watched.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

“Thank you,” you say softly, your cheeks still a little warm.

Shortly after, you leave the apartment together.

*

By the time you return to the apartment, the warmth from the cocktails has already begun to fade, leaving behind only a pleasant looseness in your body and the ache in your cheeks from smiling so much.

Valko holds the door open for you, and you step inside with your heels clicking softly against the floor. After he slips out of his shoes, he heads towards the kitchen while you stay at the entryway, still taking off your heels.

While he pours the water, you look at him properly.

You had noticed him before you left, of course, but now you let yourself linger on it – the way his hair has fallen slightly out of place, the fabric of his shirt pulling around his biceps, the rolled sleeves showing his forearms. He looks unfairly handsome like this, and the sight of him makes something sweet spread through you.

When he comes closer and hands you a glass, he catches you staring.

“What?” he asks, smiling because your expression must be giving you away.

You take the water from him and let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing.” His eyes narrow playfully. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No.” You take a sip, then lower the glass, still smiling at him over the rim. “I was just thinking that you look really handsome tonight.”

The faintest color rises in his face.

“I see the alcohol is still in your system,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “It’s mostly gone.”

“Mostly?”

“I can feel my feet again,” you say, glancing down at your feet. “That’s how I know.”

Valko laughs under his breath.

“Sit down, sweetheart,” Valko says, taking the glass from your hand before you can ask why.

You let him lead you to the sofa, where he drapes a blanket over your lap.

“Stay here,” he says.

“Where else would I go?”

“With you, I never know.”

You make a face at him, but he only smiles and disappears toward the bathroom.

For a minute, you sit there with the TV playing in front of you, your glass of water waiting on the coffee table. You can hear him moving around in the bathroom, the rush of water, the opening and closing of a cabinet.

When he returns, he’s carrying a basin filled with warm water, faintly cloudy from the bath salts dissolving inside.

Your expression softens. “Valko.”

“What?” he says, setting it carefully on the floor in front of the sofa. “Your feet hurt.”

You look down at the water, then back at him, and the fondness in your chest feels almost too full for something so simple. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

You dip your feet into the basin, and the first touch of warm water makes your eyes close for a second as you sink deeper into the sofa.

Valko sits next to you, looking a little pleased with himself.

By the time the episode ends, the water has cooled and your whole body feels heavier in the best way, softened by the warmth, the drinks, and the steady comfort of Valko’s presence beside you.

He gets up before you can decide whether you should move, disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a towel in his hands. When he sits back down, he spreads it over his lap, then pats it lightly.

“Feet here.”

You lift your feet from the basin and place them over the towel on his lap. Valko wraps the towel around one foot first, drying you with gentle movements, then does the same with the other. He folds the damp towel aside and places your foot between his hands, pressing his thumbs into the sole.

“Oh,” you breathe, your head falling back against the cushion. “That feels really good.”

His mouth curves, but he keeps his eyes on what he is doing. “Good.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

The TV keeps playing, though you stop following the episode after a while.

Your attention drifts instead to his hands, to the way they move over your foot and up to your ankle, then higher to your calf when he shifts closer and draws your leg a little more securely across his lap.

A soft smile stays on your face.

You look from his hands to his profile, letting yourself linger on the slope of his nose, the line of his jaw. He looks calmer now than he had earlier, though there is still something attentive in him, something that keeps checking on you without needing to ask every few minutes.

Valko’s thumb presses into a tender spot near your heel, and you let out a small sound.

He glances at you.

You clear your throat and look back at the TV as if you have been paying attention the whole time.

His smile deepens, but he says nothing, only continues the massage on the other foot with the same patience.

After a while, Valko’s hands slow, his thumbs resting lightly against your arch as the episode continues playing in front of you.

You draw your legs back slowly, feet settling on the floor as you turn toward him. Valko’s gaze follows, shifting from your face to the way you’re leaning closer now.

“Tired?” he asks, softer than before.

You shake your head. “Not yet.”

Your eyes drift to his lips. When you glance up, he’s already watching you with that adoring gaze that stirs butterflies in your chest. He leans in just a fraction, then holds there, waiting.

So you close the rest of the distance yourself.

The first kiss is gentle, almost testing, your mouth brushing his before you press closer. Valko answers immediately, one hand lifting toward your back while the other stays on the sofa, giving you room to decide how much of him you want.

You kiss him again, longer this time, letting yourself sink into the warmth of his mouth, and the low sound he makes when you lean in more fully sends a pleased little shiver through your body.

After a few moments, you sit up and move before you can overthink it, swinging one leg over his lap until you are straddling him.

You slide your hands to his shoulders, then up to the sides of his neck, feeling him beneath your palms, solid and close and real. His hands settle against your back and pull you nearer before one slides down to your calf, almost absentmindedly, his fingers finding the same sore place he had been working on before. The touch is still gentle, still soothing, but now it runs through you differently as his thumb presses into your skin while his mouth moves over yours.

A small sound slips from you.

Valko’s hand pauses for half a second, then continues, slower than before.

You smile into the kiss, and he catches it, his mouth curving against yours as his palm slides along your calf. Your dress rides higher over your thighs as your fingers curl lightly at the back of his neck, and every slow movement of his hand makes you lean into him more.

Your heart beats harder in your chest, a sweet ache spreading low in your belly as his fingers trace idle patterns along your skin. You pull back just a little, and the words slip out in a soft whisper against his lips.

“Take me to the bedroom.”

Valko’s breath catches for the briefest moment, and then his arms tighten around you – one hand splaying across your lower back while the other cradles your thigh. “Hold onto me,” he murmurs. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers threading into the soft hair at his nape, and hook your legs around his waist as he rises from the sofa with effortless ease, as if you weigh nothing at all. The movement presses you even closer, your chest flush against his as his arms hold you securely, his mouth never leaving yours.

When he reaches the bedroom, the lamplight from the living room spills through the doorway, casting warm shadows across the bed. Valko sits down on the edge of the mattress with you still wrapped around him, so you settle easily back into his lap, straddling him once more.

His hands stay gentle at your waist, holding you steady on his lap as the kiss lingers between you. Being this close to him makes something in you ache softly for more. When you finally draw back enough to speak, your lips brush his.

“Unzip me, please.”

He does not hesitate. One hand leaves your waist and finds the zipper at the small of your back. He takes his time, pulling the zipper all the way down before his palm rests lightly against the bare skin he has uncovered.

Only then do you break the kiss. You rise just enough to slide the dress from your shoulders and over your hips. You step out of it slowly, standing before him in the lamplight while his gaze follows every movement.

You unhook your bra next, the straps slipping from your shoulders, and you let the garment fall away. Valko’s breath leaves him in a low, appreciative sound, but he does not reach for you yet. He waits, watching as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and ease them down your legs. They join the rest of your clothing on the floor, and when you straighten again you are bare before him – every inch of skin touched by the soft light and the heat of his undivided attention.

A quiet thrill moves through you at the way he looks at you, like you are something precious he has been given permission to cherish.

You take a step toward him, ready to return to his lap, but his fingers wrap gently around your wrist before you can climb back onto the bed. The touch is light, yet it stills you completely. He draws your hand toward him and presses a soft kiss to the back of it, then turns it over and brushes his lips against the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. The touch sends a small shiver up your arm.

Without a word, he guides you closer to the bed. His hands settle at your waist as he helps you onto the mattress, and you lie back against the pillows.

He lifts one of your legs, his mouth finding your ankle with a slow press of lips before he gives the other the same lingering attention. Then the heat of his mouth trails upward, each kiss drawing closer, and something low in your stomach tightens with anticipation.

You watch him as he settles between your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. The first slow drag of his tongue through your folds makes your breath hitch. He does it again, firmer this time, and your thighs instinctively part wider for him.

His hands slide under your hips, holding you steady as he licks into you with more purpose now – slow, thorough strokes that have you growing slicker by the second. When he finally seals his lips around your clit and sucks, your back arches hard off the bed with a broken moan.

Your fingers thread into his hair as your hips start to move on their own, rolling against his mouth. Valko groans at the movement, gripping your hips harder and letting you grind against his tongue, meeting every roll of your body.

The pleasure builds fast now. Every stroke of his tongue, every time he sucks on your clit, sends sparks racing through you. You can feel how wet you are, how easily his mouth moves against you. Your moans grow breathier, your thighs starting to tremble around his head as the tension coils tighter in your stomach.

You keep your eyes on him the whole time. His gaze is locked on your face, but there’s a new tension in his expression now – his pupils are blown, brows drawn, like he’s fighting to stay focused on you while his own hunger bleeds through.

And then you notice the rest of him.

His hips are moving in small, involuntary thrusts against the mattress, rutting into the bed in time with the way his mouth works over you. The sight of it – how turned on he is just from tasting you – makes you clench hard around nothing.

His name slips from your lips in a broken moan, soft at first and then louder as the heat inside you coils tighter and tighter. Valko answers with a low sound against your soaked folds, and then he murmurs right against your skin.

“I can feel you getting close... Come on my tongue, baby – I want to taste you when you do.”

One of his hands finds yours, threading your fingers together and holding on tight. Your hips move faster now, grinding down against his mouth with desperate little rolls. The moment his lips close around your clit again, the tension finally snaps.

It rolls through you in heavy, pulsing waves. Your thighs shake around his head as your fingers tighten in his hair, and a string of broken, breathless sounds spill from your lips – his name tangled with soft, incoherent praise you barely register saying.

A deep, rough groan tears from his throat as his hips jerk harder against the mattress, the movement no longer small or controlled, and the hand holding yours tightens. His eyes stay locked on your face even as they darken further, that faint crease between his brows deepening as he fights to keep his focus on you.

The knowledge that your broken praise is undoing him only makes the pleasure burn hotter, dragging another helpless moan from your throat as the last ripples of your orgasm roll through you.

For a little while, neither of you speaks. Your body feels pleasantly spent, your fingers still loosely threaded with his while your other hand moves slowly through his hair in gentle, absent strokes. Valko stays exactly where he is, his breath warm and uneven against your soaked skin. For a long moment he doesn’t move, only presses soothing kisses along the inside of your thigh, then higher, brushing his lips over the soft curve of your stomach and the sensitive crease where your hip meets your leg.

Then, instead of rising, he begins to kiss lower again.

His mouth trails back down, lips parting against your still-sensitive folds as if it is the most natural thing in the world for him to keep going.

Your fingers tighten in his hair.

“Valko,” you breathe, your voice still shaky.

He lifts his head immediately, eyes finding yours.

You swallow, your hand sliding from his hair to gently touch his jaw.

“Come here,” you say softly.

His voice comes out low and rough. “I am here.”

You shake your head, a small, almost shy smile tugging at your lips.

“Up here.”

He hesitates for a second – just long enough for you to see the way he is still caught in that deep, giving place he goes to when he has his mouth on you. Then, slowly, he begins to crawl up your body, pressing kisses as he goes. His mouth moves over your stomach, the center of your chest, your breasts.

When he finally reaches the crook of your neck, he pauses there, nuzzling into the warm space under your jaw, his nose brushing your skin as he breathes you in.

You stay like that for a while, your fingers still moving slowly through his hair while his face remains tucked against your neck.

After a moment, you speak, your voice soft and a little hoarse.

“Are you planning on taking those clothes off at some point?”

Valko lets out a quiet huff of laughter against your neck.

He lifts his head, and you see the familiar teasing smile on his lips. “Why?” he asks. “Do you want me to?”

You roll your eyes, but the smile that follows gives you away completely. Your hand slides from his hair down to the back of his neck as you pull him closer until your lips are almost brushing his.

“I need to feel you against my skin,” you whisper. “I need your warmth. Your everything.”

The teasing in his expression softens. His hand tightens gently around yours where your fingers are still linked.

Valko doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he kisses you once more before pulling back to sit up. You watch as he reaches for the buttons of his shirt, his fingers working them open one by one. The fabric parts gradually, revealing his chest and the defined muscles of his torso. He shrugs the shirt off his shoulders and lets it fall somewhere beside the bed, never once breaking eye contact with you.

When his hands move to his belt, the quiet clink of metal and the slow drag of leather send a fresh, unexpected flutter through your already sensitive core, making your thighs press together. He notices, and the corner of his mouth lifts before he finishes undoing his belt and pushes both his pants and underwear down in one smooth motion.

He steps out of the last of his clothes and returns to the bed completely bare.

The sight of him makes your breath catch. In the dim light, his cock stands thick and flushed a deep, aching red, the head glistening with precum that has already begun to leak down the shaft. He braces himself above you on one forearm before lowering his body until his full weight settles over you. The pressure is immediate and sweet, sinking into your skin and muscles in the most comforting way. His mouth finds yours at the same time, lips locking in a hungry kiss as his tongue slides against yours. You can taste yourself on him, and the realization only makes you kiss him harder, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back as you hold him close.

When you wrap your legs around his hips, the movement drags the thick length of his cock through your soaked folds. The blunt head nudges against your clit, and a broken moan slips from your throat into his mouth. He’s so hot and heavy against you, the underside of his cock gliding through your wetness with every small shift of his body.

You start to move first.

Your hips roll upward in a slow grind, coating the length with your arousal and his saliva. He follows your rhythm, the tip nudging just barely at your entrance before sliding past again, teasing you both with how close he is to sinking inside.

“I need you inside me,” you whisper against his lips. “I want to feel all of you.”

You spread your legs wider for him, opening yourself completely as he begins to ease inside, slowly and carefully. The stretch is intense and delicious, your body yielding to him while his eyes stay locked on your face, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your expression.

Your arms wrap tighter around him, one hand sliding up to grip the back of his neck while the other stays curled on his shoulder. He holds you just as close, one arm braced beside your head, the other sliding under your back to pull you flush against him as he sinks deeper.

“You okay like this?” he asks quietly.

When you nod, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your eye. He stays there for a moment, buried deep inside you, his forehead resting lightly against yours as he just breathes with you.

Then, slowly, he begins to pull back – almost slipping out – before sinking back in. The movement pulls a soft sound from your throat, your hips lifting instinctively to meet him.

He picks up the pace gradually, each thrust growing a little heavier, a little deeper. Your arms stay wrapped tightly around him, holding him close as soft moans spill from your lips with every stroke. The heat between you builds quickly – the slick drag of his cock inside you, the way his pelvis grinds against your clit on every downward thrust, the way his breath fans hot across your mouth.

You can feel how close he is.

It’s in the way his cock keeps twitching inside you, in the tension locked through his shoulders, in the rough, broken groans that escape him. His face is tight with pleasure, brows drawn, jaw clenched as he fights to keep control.

You whisper against his lips.

“You can let go… I want you to. Don’t hold back.”

Valko shakes his head once.

“No,” he breathes. “I just… want to savor this a little longer.”

After a moment, Valko shifts his weight and wraps both arms tightly around your torso. In one smooth motion he sits up, bringing you with him until he’s kneeling on the mattress with you straddling his lap. Your legs instinctively wrap around him as you adjust, your arms sliding around his shoulders while your chests press flush together. The new angle makes him sink even deeper inside you, and the sudden fullness draws a breathless moan from your lips.

He holds you close – one strong arm wrapped around your back, the other hand gripping the curve of your ass, keeping you anchored against him. Your bare skin slides against his with every breath, your nipples brushing his chest. Neither of you speaks for a moment. You simply breathe each other in, bodies locked tight, his cock pulsing deep inside you while your arms stay wrapped around his shoulders like you never want to let go.

You begin to move first, rocking slowly against him.

Valko lets out a low, guttural sound the second you start moving. He kisses you again, but this time there’s nothing controlled about it – his tongue pushes past your lips with no hesitation, sliding against yours in a wet, hungry glide. The kiss turns messy fast. It’s all heat and spit, the wet sound of it mixing with the low groans rumbling from his chest as his teeth catch your bottom lip, grazing, nipping.

His hand on your ass tightens, fingers spreading wide as he begins to guide you. The motion stays shallow, limited by how tightly you’re pressed together, but even with how little you can move, it feels devastatingly good. Every slow circle of your hips makes his cock rub against that sensitive spot inside you while your clit drags over his pelvis, slick and swollen and aching.

“That’s it… take what you need,” he murmurs against your lips. “I love feeling you like this.”

The fullness is constant, overwhelming in the best way – every tiny shift of your body makes you feel stretched around him. Your nipples slip and slide against his sweat-damp chest with every movement, the friction making your body grow hotter.

“I can feel how close you are,” he murmurs against your lips. “I can hear it in the way you moan for me. You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?”

You can only whimper in response, your arms tightening around his shoulders as you hold on. You can feel how close he is too – the way his cock keeps twitching inside you, the tension coiled so tightly through his body, the way his breathing has turned ragged and uneven. He’s holding back, barely, and it only makes you want to push him over the edge with you.

You shift your legs, planting your feet flat on the mattress on either side of his hips. The change in angle lets you lift yourself higher, and when you sink back down, you take his thick length even deeper than before. The helpless, strained whimper that tears from Valko’s throat makes your pussy cream around him, slick and messy. His forehead drops to your shoulder, hot breath fanning over your damp skin as his arms tighten around you like he’s trying to hold himself together.

Valko lets out another broken sound against your neck as you start lifting and dropping on him. His arms lock tighter around you as he tries – and fails – to keep guiding your hips the way he was before. The new angle has him sinking impossibly deep with every stroke, and a wrecked groan tears from his throat.

“Fuck – you feel too good,” he pants, voice strained. “I’m trying to let you have this… but – ha-ah – you’re gonna make me lose it.”

You slide one hand up to the back of his neck, fingers threading into his damp hair as you roll your hips again, using your new leverage to grind down on him harder.

“I want you to come,” you breathe. “I need it. I need to feel you.”

That’s all it takes.

Valko’s hand squeezes your ass in a bruising grip as his hips jerk up to meet yours in short, desperate thrusts. His mouth latches onto the side of your neck, sucking hard while his tongue drags over your skin between bites. His sweaty chest slides against yours with every desperate grind, your nipples dragging over the slick, overheated skin. His pelvis is soaked with your arousal, and every roll of your hips grinds it firmly against your swollen clit, sending sharp, relentless sparks racing through your entire body. The combination is too much – the way he stretches you open with every thrust and the constant, filthy pressure on your clit. It builds so fast it feels dizzying.

Your climax crashes into you with overwhelming force.

A silent whimper catches in your throat before it breaks into a loud, shattered moan. Your walls clamp down around him in hard, rhythmic pulses, your thighs shaking as your fingers dig into his shoulders. The pleasure is blinding, ripping through you so intensely that all you can do is cling to him, your body trembling as wave after wave crashes over you.

Valko’s arms lock around you the second your orgasm hits. His forehead presses hard into your shoulder as his cock throbs violently inside you, and you feel the way your pussy squeezes around him, milking him. His whole body goes tense, muscles straining as he fights to hold on for just a few more seconds.

“That’s it – I’ve got you –” His voice cracks. “Just hold onto me – please – ”

His breath hitches.

He yanks your hips down hard and holds you there as he starts to come. You feel every thick pulse of his cock as he fills you – hot spurts that seem to go on and on while he keeps grinding you against him through it. His mouth finds yours in a breathless, messy kiss, all tongue, groans, and the sharp graze of teeth. He kisses you like he’s drowning as he empties himself inside you in thick, relentless waves.

He holds you so tightly against his sweat-slick body that you feel every tremor run through him, his cock still twitching and spilling deep inside you.

For a long moment, neither of you moves. You just stay like that, chests pressed together, breathing hard against each other’s skin. Then Valko tilts his head and kisses you again – slower this time, softer, lingering. When he finally pulls back, he doesn’t go far. He presses a kiss to the side of your neck, then higher, brushing his lips against your cheek.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod, a small smile tugging at your mouth. “More than okay.”

He makes a soft sound of relief and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his nose brushing your skin as he just breathes you in. You smile against his hair, your fingers grazing his undercut… until a dull, tingling ache starts to spread through your thighs.

You shift a little, wincing. “Okay, wait. My legs are going numb.”

Valko lifts his head, blinking at you for a second. Then a quiet chuckle rumbles out of him.

He carefully helps you untangle your legs from around his waist, one hand supporting your lower back while the other guides you down onto the mattress. You stretch out with a soft sigh of relief, the sheets cool against your overheated skin. Valko stays close for a second longer, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t move,” he murmurs. “I’ll be right back.”

He disappears into the bathroom and returns a moment later with a warm, damp towel. You feel a little flustered when he settles between your legs again, but the look on his face is so gentle and focused that you don’t stop him. He cleans you with careful strokes, the warmth of the cloth soothing against your skin.

When the towel grazes your still-sensitive folds, you flinch a little.

“Shh,” Valko soothes, caressing your thigh with his free hand. “Just a little more.”

He finishes with the same tender care, then leans down and presses a soft kiss to the inside of your knee.

“There,” he says, tossing the towel aside. “All clean.”

He crawls back up the bed and pulls you into his arms again, tucking your head under his chin. One hand starts slowly stroking up and down your back, warm and steady.

He murmurs your name against your hair, barely more than a breath. “You okay? Really?”

You nod, your cheek pressed to his chest. “Yeah… Just a little floaty.”

He makes a pleased sound and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Good,” he says quietly. “You were so beautiful like that. I loved every second of it.”

You smile against his skin, a little shy. “You didn’t have to clean me up, you know.”

“I wanted to.” His fingers keep tracing slow paths along your spine. “I like taking care of you.”

There’s a short, comfortable silence. Then he shifts just enough so he can look at you, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“You need anything?” he asks. “Water? Snacks? Or just me?”

You laugh softly and burrow closer. “Just you, baby.”

He chuckles and wraps both arms around you more securely.

“Alright then,” he says, settling back against the pillows with you. “You’ve got me.”

"Perimeter's clear," he said, quiet, like nothing in the world could rattle him. He crossed the debris toward you, boots crunching over glass and rubble. "You're bleeding, though."

You looked down. A chunk of crystal debris had opened a gash along your calf and you hadn't even noticed.

"Huh. Didn't feel that happen."

"Let me look at it." He dropped to one knee, taking a bandage roll out of your hands before you'd even fully pulled it from your pouch.

His hands were warm. Warmer than it made sense, given the cold. When he folded the torn fabric of your pants back to get at the wound, his fingers grazed bare skin and something jumped straight up your spine. You bit down on the inside of your cheek so you wouldn't make a sound about it.

This was the problem with Xavier. Some days he fell asleep against your shoulder like it was the safest place in the world. Other days he kept a careful distance between you and answered everything in a polite, unreadable tone, and you were left wondering if you'd imagined the whole thing.

"Does that hurt?" his thumb pressed against the unbroken skin just above it — the touch was not necessary to wrap the bandage.

"A little," you said, watching the top of his head, how the moonlight caught the color of his hair. "Xavier. Can I ask you something?"

His hands didn't stop moving, but his shoulders went still. "Yeah."

"Why do you do this?" You asked flatly, too tired to dress it up. "Sometimes I think we’re... I don't know, really close. And then other times, you look at me like I'm just another Hunter from the Association. It's confusing."

He finished tying off the gauze, stood up and finally looked at you "I just think about things. More than I probably should."

He reached out to help you up, hands closing firm around your forearms.

"Think about what?"

You went to test your weight on the bandaged leg and the ground chose that second to be uneven. You pitched forward, right into him, your chest hitting his. His hands slid from your arms to your waist to catch you.

Neither of you moved.

You could feel his heart going fast under his uniform, which didn't match the calm on his face at all. His eyes dropped to your mouth, came back up.This is happening, you thought, a little dizzy with it. He's actually going to—.

His grip on your waist tightened. Something cracked open behind his eyes, just for a second "You shouldn't stand this close to me"

"Xavier—"

He stepped back before you could get anything else out.

Crunch. Something snapped under his boot.

A white protocore.

He picked it and it suddenly went off with light, a white light expanding outward faster than you could track. The air got sucked straight out of your lungs. Your ears popped hard enough to hurt, and then the ruins, the sky, and everything else was sucked into a roar of wind that yanked you forward like the world had grabbed you by the throat.

You hit something solid and warm.

"Oof — sorry —"

A grunt came from underneath you. You blinked against sudden dark, hands slapping down flat against Xavier's chest. You were sprawled on top of him, legs tangled, face mashed against his neck.

"Oh my god." You scrambled back so fast you scraped your palms on the floor. "Sorry — are you okay?"

Xavier sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, hair falling into his eyes. "Fine. Are you hurt?"

"No, I— " You stopped. Looked around. "Wait."

You weren't standing in the ruins anymore. You were standing on a balcony with black wrought iron railing and a view of city streets that looked oddly familiar.

"Is this our building?" You turned in a slow circle, "Xavier, did you just teleport us home?"

"I didn't teleport us anywhere."

"You definitely did something..."

"I didn't" He was already moving past you toward the railing, scanning it like it might answer a question you hadn't asked yet.

"Okay, well, something got us here," you said, following him. "So if it wasn't you, what was it?"

He didn't answer right away. He crouched by one of the plants, fingers brushing the soil. Damp. Recently turned. "I don't have an explanation for this."

"When did you get so many plants?."

He moved to a small table near, where two mugs sat, both used, one rimmed faintly with lipstick.

"This is kind of freaking me out."

You spotted a newspaper folded beside the mugs and reached for it before he could stop you.

The date on the header didn't make sense. You read it twice.

"Xavier." You held it out to him, throat tight.

He took it, scanning it fast, and for the first time all night something like real alarm broke through his usual calm. "This is two years out."

"Two years." You said it slow, testing the weight of it. "Okay. We're just —somewhere else. Somewhere with your exact view, which is a really specific coincidence, but fine, sure, this is wrong, so so wrong—"

"Calm down."

"Xavier."

"What."

You pointed, wordless, toward the far corner of the balcony, where a lumpy, badly painted bird feeder hung crooked from its hook, one wing chipped clean off. You'd have known it anywhere.

"That's Fatso"s" you said.

Xavier followed your finger, and whatever he'd been telling himself died on his face.

You grabbed for your communicator on reflex. Dead screen. "No signal," you said, more to yourself than to him.

"Mine's the same. Clock's not even holding steady." He pocketed the device "We need to see what's inside. If someone's living here, we ask them what year it is."

"Oh yeah because that is a completely normal question to walk in and ask a stranger."

"Stay behind me," he reached for the handle on the sliding glass door, testing the weight of it without committing to opening it yet. Behind the curtain, something moved.

You froze. Your fingers found the sleeve of his uniform and held on.

A hand pressed flat against the glass from the other side of the curtain, fingers spread.

Xavier looked ready to run.

A second hand appeared beside it. Bigger. Scarred across the knuckles. Something in your chest went cold with recognition even before your brain caught up. The second hand moved to close over the first, fingers lacing through.

There were two people on the other side of that door. And from the way the curtain was moving, they were not just standing there.

"Xavier," you whispered, barely any air behind it at all.

He didn't answer. He didn't move his hand off the door either —just stood there frozen, staring at those hands through the glass like his whole nervous system had collapsed.

Then he moved. His hand closed around your shoulder and pulled, one smooth backward motion that tucked you both into a narrow space where the balcony wall met the building's outer brick. The spot was tight —barely enough room for two people to stand without touching —and the angle it gave you was merciless. The glass door sat directly in your line of sight, lit from inside.

You should have looked away immediately.

But you didn't.

The curtains moved a bit. Two bodies, pressed close. The woman's face was hidden, her head tipped back behind the line of the man's shoulder. His face was visible. Hair catching the light. That jaw.

Xavier

The anger came fast and hot and settled behind your sternum like coal. Months of warmth and then distance. Months of patience that felt like it was always just about to become something and never did —and here was the answer to all of it, pressed against a glass door in an apartment that was still his, two years from now, with someone else.

He was kissing her the way someone kisses when they've stopped being careful about it. Deep, his hands dragging her back against him, the movements of his lower body slow and unmistakable.

You looked away. Focused on a crack running through the middle of the wall beside you. Breathed through your nose.

Beside you, Xavier was still looking. His face was flushed.

"Is that—" His voice came out wrong.

"Yup," you said. The bitterness in it sharper than you'd intended. "That's you"

A sound came through the glass.

The impact of skin against the glass door followed immediately by a broken moan, the sound dragged your eyes back to the glass door against your will.

The curtain had been pulled aside all the way.

The view was now unobstructed.

The woman was pressed flat against the glass, her bare breasts against the cold pane, her hands finding the frame for something to hold onto. Her face was fully visible now.

The anger in your chest went out like a light.

It was your face.

Your shoulders, your hands, the sound of your own voice coming through the glass in pieces, breathless and nothing like anything you'd heard from yourself before. Your future self's cheek was pressed to the glass too, eyes half closed, lips parted around sounds that weren't words.

Future Xavier's teeth found her shoulder and bit down, not gently, leaving something that would be visible tomorrow. His hand came around the front of her, sliding between her thighs to line his beautiful cock against her entrance.

Then he drove forward.

The sound she made came through the glass loud and clear and a small involuntary noise started building in your own throat.

Xavier's palm came over your mouth.

Fast. Firm. His fingers sealing the sound in before it could escape. His hand was shaking.

The glass door shook with the next impact. And the next.

Xavier had his mouth at her ear saying something you couldn't hear through the glass but could read in the way her expression changed when he said it.

Xavier made half a sound against the back of your head and he immediately swallowed the other half.

You felt it anyway. Felt the way his arm tightened across your chest, felt the unsteady rhythm of his breathing where his chest pressed into your back.

You couldn't look away from his face —the future version of the face that was currently breathing against your temple— wearing an expression you'd never seen on him before.

"Xavier," you said, against his palm. Muffled.

His arm tightened.

"Xavier." Louder this time, enough that he could feel the shape of his name against his hand.

His mouth dropped to your ear "Don't move." The words came out rough "If they see us—"

Inside the apartment, your future self pressed her palm hard against her lips.

Future Xavier's hand closed around her wrist.

He pulled it down. He held her hand at her side and kept it there, and when she turned her face toward him he was already looking at her.

He wanted to hear her.

Below you a glass door scraped open.

One floor down, a man stepped out onto his balcony. Cigarette unlit between his fingers, head tilted slightly, listening to the night.

You pressed further into the shadow.

The rhythm inside the apartment changed. Not slower. The opposite. The glass shook in its frame and the sounds coming through it stopped being something that could be mistaken for anything else, and the man one floor down stopped trying to light his cigarette.

You looked at future Xavier's face.

His eyes were angled down and to the left.

He picked up the pace.

She tried again, her hand came up toward her mouth. Future Xavier caught her wrist without looking and his mouth moved against her ear again.

Whatever it was, she stopped trying to be quiet.

You thought about what you'd just watched him do. The escalation. The man on the balcony below. The reason your future self's hand kept getting pulled back down.

Was he jealous of that stranger?

Inside, her feet left the ground. Xavier had both arms around her, her arms caught under his, breast bouncing with every thrust.

You saw it first.

An unmistakable pressure beneath the surface of her stomach. Moving with every thrust. A belly bulge.

Your mouth went dry.

She was dripping. You could see it even through the glass —the inside of her thighs slick and glistening where his movements had worked everything down, coating her skin, catching the apartment light every time he pulled back. The glass had a faint fog to it from her breath, small clouds appearing and disappearing with each exhale.

The deep flush running from her chest to her throat made something in your lower stomach pull tight.

The Xavier beside you tracked every place her body responded to him, her hardened nipples, the way her toes curled against nothing, the flutter beneath her skin that mapped exactly where he was.

Crash

A flower pot.

It hit the floor and you both stopped breathing.

Inside the apartment, silence.

Immediate and total.

Through the glass you watched future Xavier's head come up. No panic in it. No confusion. Just a slow turn toward the sound, his eyes moving through the dark until they found the spot where the two of you were standing.

He couldn't see you. The angle was wrong, the shadow too deep.

He knew someone was there anyway.

His expression went cold and your future self said something against his chest. The curtain moved slowly across the glass from inside and the light behind it went out.

You had thirty seconds. Maybe less.

Xavier crouched beside you. The Protocore looked small against his palm, throwing a faint white pulse between his fingers for just a second.

The glass door began to slide open.

The air changed, the balcony, the broken pot, the man with his unlit cigarette, all of it collapsing into white noise and rushing dark.

You hit the ground hard. Your knees met broken stone, the air was knocked out of you on impact and you spent the first few seconds just existing on the ground.

Xavier landed beside you.

You pushed yourself up to sitting. "So..."

Xavier said nothing.

"That was weird."

Still nothing.

"We were—"

"I saw it" he opened his hand and noticed the Protocore was gone "I was standing right next to you."

"So we're both aware of what we watched."

"Yes."

"And we're not going to talk about it?"

He looked at you. "Are you going to be able to not talk about it?"

"Probably not."

He made a sound that wasn't quite a sigh, stood up and offered you a hand. You took it and he pulled you to your feet and didn't immediately let go.

"That man on the balcony," you said.

Xavier's jaw moved. "What about him."

"Future you saw him and then—"

"I know what he did." He dropped your hand. Turned to look at anything that wasn't your face. "You don't need to walk me through it."

"I'm just—" You pressed your lips together, trying very hard not to smile, it felt inappropriate and also completely unavoidable "Was he showing off?"

"We're not talking about that."

"Xavier—"

"Not yet." He said it quietly. Just a line in the ground, clearly drawn. "Not tonight. There's—" He exhaled. "There's a lot I need to sit with before I talk about any of it."

You nodded. That felt fair.

You started walking, picking your way back through the rubble toward the gap in the wall where you'd come in, and Xavier fell into step beside you like he always did —slightly behind, slightly to your left, a position that meant he could see everything around you before you could.

The walk back was quiet. You were almost at the gap in the wall when he spoke.

"Can I ask you something."

"Go ahead."

He was quiet for a beat. Just long enough that you glanced over at him.

"Future me?" he said. "Or me?"

You stopped walking. "What?"

"You heard me. Who do you like more?

"Xavier, that's not—you are the same person—"

"Future me is two years ahead and has information I don't have and he was doing—" a small pause, "—things to you that I have not yet done. So. Future me or me?"

You stared at him.

He stared back.

"That is the most ridiculous question you've ever asked me"

"Humor me."

"You"

Something in his face changed.

"Good," he said.

"But future you did have his—"

The not quite smile disappeared. "We're going home," he said, and turned toward the gap in the wall.

You followed him, and you were very glad he was walking ahead of you this time because the smile on your face was not something you were ready to explain.