chimchimsauce

[chimchimsauce]

TWs: Babytrapping, breeding, pregnancy

Caleb would baby trap you.

Like, how could he not? He even admits himself that he has a long-standing desire to ‘protect’ you and remain close to you. His need to protect and maintain control over you has been a prevalent trait of his since you were children. The difference is that before, it could be deemed as sweet. But now, it only feels suffocating. So, when Caleb felt as if you’re straying too far from him, he came up with the perfect solution.

His only goal, his only instinct is to keep you away from harm. Safe. With him. His own ego and sense of pride take control of this situation once he knows you are secured in a place only he has access to. So how does he keep you in a place where he knows you won’t leave? And he’ll have access to 24/7? How can he make sure that you’re in a position where you’re safe, away from harm, unable to leave, bound to him, protected, and…

The idea comes into Caleb’s head, leaving him a man obsessed.

He starts letting his intentions slip into casual conversation. Off-handedly mentions something about how you made his Skyhaven home so inviting and heartwarming for his birthday…you should go back home with him instead of staying in Linkon…you should just y’know, tie the knot and he could provide a really good life for you! The tone he says it in is light hearted, so you just giggle and say yeah, wouldn’t that be fun? If only you could! Haha. He pauses for a moment, but laughs himself.

Whenever you two hook up, you’re mindful to bring a form of protection. You bring condoms every time. Although, he tends to whine about how they dull the feeling and doesn’t feel as good as the real thing. You sigh and, if it’s a safe-ish day based on your cycle, you. tell him to just be sure to pull out. Which he does. He likes seeing cum on your stomach…even if there’s a note of disappointment on his face each time that you do try to ignore. He asks you why you don’t want kids yet, and you reply with something about ‘just not being ready yet, you want to keep your options open for the future…’ Which he mutters something about understanding what you mean in reply, but the look on his face says otherwise.

You do get a bad feeling from him sometimes. But again, you ignore it. You know him, he loves you, and above all, he feels good. Sure, he has his faults, but the chance of you catching a better fish in the sea is low. He cooks and cares for you, checks up on you often, accompanies you and takes you out, plus his dick is big and he’s got a lot of stamina, so come on, of course you’d keep him around.

Alas, Caleb was bound to snap eventually. You’re going at it as usual, you on your back. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, breathing labored, murmurs something about being close.

Normally, when he says that, he sits more straight up, making it easier to quickly pull out and cum on your stomach. But this time, he stays close, skin to skin, bodies pressed together. You even think he suddenly seems to press himself even closer. You curl your hand into a fist and gently tap on the nape of his neck a bit, murmuring hey, don’t cum in me, just in case he forgot.

He stops. Everything. He leans up, looks down at you, eyes half-lidded and full of emotion that you haven’t seen before, but something about it is so manic and dazed that it creates a pit of unease in your stomach. It’s not a pleasant look. His eyes are narrowed, his lips are pulled tight and his jaw clenches with frustration, irritation. He looks upset. Petulant.

But the look breaks after a split second. Caleb shakes his head and sighs, as if to himself, hanging his head as he leans back down, pressing your bodies together again, only this time, he grabs each of your wrists, pulling them together and locking them together with his bionic arm so you can’t wriggle out, and gripping the sheets below with his other.

You panic and thrash and question what he’s doing. You think you probably ruined the mood and he lost his arousal a bit or something, and he’s working his way back up to being close…no. You’re still whining out little startled interrogatives and hey, stop, hold on, when he rolls his hips especially hard, causing you to cut off your words. You look back up at his face, which now suddenly looks calm, determined, blissful even, as he says gently: shh, don’t worry about it.

His thrusting into you returns back to the vigour as before. Harder, even. You can physically feel the frustration leave his body, and, in your confused, worried silence, he says in a low whisper to hold still.

I’m gonna knock you up.

He flips you over would render you more unable to move at all. You sure try to with all your might – crying out and protesting and freaking out, kicking and thrashing, but it’s no use. Amidst his heavy movements and labored breathing, he mumbles into your ear saying that he’s gonna put a baby in you, knock you up…you’ll be so cute swollen up with my baby…but don’t worry, you’ll be okay, you’ll be happy, with me, with them. He knows you’ll need him. He knows you would. You could never make it on your own, but you don’t have to worry, because he’ll take care of you. All of you. You won’t be able to resist the offer of his support and protection.

His attempt at comfort is too much for you to handle. What's even more baffling to you is that even as you protest, he’s not listening to you.

B-but... I don't want--

Don’t worry about it, I’ll be there for you.

But…you can't just do this to me!

Don’t worry…you’ll be fine. I promise.

Caleb comes inside you. He's too excited to notice the look on your face, at least not for a few seconds, finally turning to you after realizing your stunned silence.

Mm? Something wrong?

...That...that's...you...

And really, nothing you can say can actually change his mind. For gods sake, don’t you get it? Being at home with his kids and having his babies is the only way he can make sure that you’re not leaving. It would be a perfect little world where it’s just you and him. And the kids. Yes you'll be a good mom, yes you'll be fine, and yes if you’re that paranoid, you can get your friend Dr. Zayne to check up on you so you'll be great health-wise. If you try to talk him out of it, it’s akin to trying to reason with a brick wall.

His determination is frighteningly obsessive. Even when he's inside you, hips bouncing off the back of your thighs, he keeps talking about it, words slurring as he mumbles something about putting a baby in you, knocking you up, so on and so on, all the while, gripping at your hips and making sure to slam all the way in as far as possible when he finally cums inside you. Maybe he's already accomplished what he wants, who knows, but he has to just keep trying until it's certain, so you only get a few minutes of respite before starting back again. Now, no condoms. No pulling out, even though you haven’t learnt your lesson and still beg for him to do so. Whimpering and pulling at his hair, pushing at his chest, all night long, over and over.

You’re still pleading with him, trying to reason with him, but you can tell that your pleas are getting weaker by each day. You’ve come to terms that it will be a death sentence to any hope of escaping him. He’ll always get to you somehow. You've been thinking about trying to leave since being dragged here three days or so ago, trying not to let him inhibit you. You just need some more time, just a little bit of time...

You don't get that time.

It doesn't take long. He's young and virile, so, maybe, that’s why your cycle is late. The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach. At first, you don't say anything, deciding not to bring the matter up unless he does, partially out of your own denial. But Caleb is attentive. He never forgets a thing about you, much less when you’d be expecting your period. So, after a while…you can see the gears turning in his head. You've been here a month now. You haven't bled at all in that time (he would know, he's been fucking you multiple times a day)...so that means...?

Caleb’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. He almost looks as if he’s unable to hold himself back when he reaches out and wraps his arms around you tenderly. He's ecstatic for the rest of the day, unable to shut up about how great this is and all the things you're going to do.

He’s extra-careful with you now. He treats you as if you can’t do anything by yourself— which was kind of true in the first few months; since you’ve been relocated to Skyhaven, you’ve experienced nausea from altitude sickness which unhelpfully overlapped with the nausea from pregnancy, rendering you ill most of the time. You still have sex, carefully and a lot more gently, and sometimes he'll just look you up and down, staring at your belly for a few moments with a haze in his eyes before dragging you back to bed so you can get plenty of rest by his side. It's not like you can resist much.

And of course, any negativity from you is shut down on the spot. At first, he mistakes it for nervousness— don't worry, it will be fine! You’ll have him. That’s the most important thing. He can assure you, over and over, telling you to just not worry about it is his default answer to any concern you have. He assumes that you’re all uptight and stressed because you’re hormonal, so he doesn’t really take anything you say into heart.

“I’ve said it before. Just relax.”

Soon, you find yourself in the hospital. Despite having a living, breathing infant in your arms, you could only feel fear, having to process and accept reality that your future is being sealed, that you realize this is actually, genuinely the beginning of the rest of your life. You try not to think too much about it.

Unfortunately, you barely get any time to rest. It’s hard with a newborn and with Caleb pestering you all day asking are you feeling okay? do you need help? do you want some hot water to drink? do you think we can get started on the next one now? Despite you seriously telling him that he has to wait a few weeks, which is what the doctor said, he gets all stressed again because ‘well, what if you try to leave in these weeks between?’ When you literally have your arms full with a mini-him.

But a few weeks passes and Caleb goes back to fucking you like a man starved when you finally give him your consent. It does burn a bit, after having gone a while without getting so ruthlessly stretched and pounded as he always does to you. He’s seemed to have forgotten about his own strength, as he grips your hips and arms and throat and presses your face into the mattress and fucks into you with such force that the whole bed creaks as it rocks back and forth.

After a while, his fingernails dig into your hips, holding your bodies as close as possible, the closer and closer you both get. You feel a sense of dread. You know what he’s trying to do.

Hey, no, give me some more t-time…

Just a little more time, just some time to feel like you can finally breathe, but once again, you don't get that time. He makes sure not a drop goes to waste when he stuffs you with cum. He stays inside you for some time, not pulling out so as to prevent any from spilling. Just like he did before. And the time before that. At least Caleb would hold you, rubbing your back, saying, it’s going to be okay.

You get a bad feeling that it’s not, when suddenly, there’s two.

Ironically, he gives you more freedom when you do eventually have more kids. It’s as if he knows you can’t get far with two…three…four children who need you. Plus, you need him to look after them all. It’s the one thing that he’s doing rather well. At the end of the day, Caleb is a good dad. He’s involved and energetic around them, cooks for them and plays with them, plus he does help you out quite a bit to look after them when he can, feeding them and bathing them and putting them to sleep…except you’re still the only one who has to go through arduous pregnancies whereas he’s more or less of a sperm depositor when it comes to making them.

And then there's another...and another...the realization even strikes you, a few years in, that since beginning your "new life," you've spent more time pregnant than not pregnant and have left the house less and less ever since the arrival of your third child. Which is, unfortunately for you, Caleb’s intention exactly.

Thankfully, your home in Skyhaven miraculously still fits everyone. It’s getting to be a bit of squeeze with the bunk beds coming in and toys scattered everywhere. Caleb likes it though— he thinks that the house finally looks like a home, even if it’s cramped and somewhat messy. You do try and maintain some order, except you never get a break, always getting another one pumped into you as soon as it's physically possible again. With him gone most of the days, it's just you and the ever-increasing number of children.

You're constantly doing something or needing to do something and taking care of the other. There’s what, eight now? The youngest one needs your constant attention so he’s strapped to your chest pretty much 24/7 while the older ones can entertain themselves. It’s the upside of having a lot of kids, you suppose, that they become self-sustaining with each other so they don’t really get bored. Except the problem becomes that, well, kids need their mother, and theres only one of you. This one banged his head on something and comes up to you, crying and blubbering, and while you’re rubbing his head soothingly, another one tugs you sleeve saying Mama I’m hungry but you don’t even get to respond when you hear another cry from the bedroom — MamaaaaAAAAAA — so you go pick that one up (a more difficult task than usual considering you're heavily pregnant again) with two kids trailing you and one wanting to be picked up but by the time the baby is in your arms, you turn around to face three of them talking to you at once and then another one comes running over to you with mama play with me!and you know you can’t right now because you’ve got to settle these kids first but you don't want to hurt the poor thing's feelings and want him to be happy so you stand there smiling while he explains what he wants to play but now your arms start to tremble from the strain of holding two kids in each arm and now you’re surrounded by five kids pulling on your clothes and talking at the same time and this one wants to be held as well oh god where's the sixth and seventh ones because everyone else is here but you can’t see either one and the youngest starts crying again and you start to panic and— You feel like you're going insane. Each and every day wears you out in full.

Suddenly, you begin to look forward to Caleb coming home.

That’s when the weight of it finally settles in. You've been so busy with everything happening, you never really got to process how much time has passed, how deep into this life you've settled. In the back of your head, there’s been the lingering mentality that you'd still find a way out one day, but in that moment, you realize all too late and that will never happen. Even if you had the chance — and looking back, it occurs to you now you've had many chances to run — you could never bring yourself to abandon them. You get the sense that's part of his intention. If he can’t hold you down himself, he can make other ways to contain you, to make sure you’re all his and under his protection, forever.

So, when your dearest lover finally comes home to a crowd of excited children (and you, as little as you’d like to admit it) looking handsome in uniform, you could finally breath a sigh of relief as they’re all crowding him now, as he gets to the kitchen and starts cooking a big meal for dinner. He talks about taking you all out to the park or something tomorrow on his day off. You’re actually looking forwards to it more than the kids do. You haven’t been out in ages. There’s a lot of smiles and laughter. It actually feels like a home. You can almost enjoy the soft tenderness of the moment, if you forget a lot of what went into this life you live.

By night, you’re slowly breathing in and out in time with the rising and falling of Caleb’s chest pressed to your back. And you think to yourself,

Maybe it’s all for the best.

—

tags: @bruhfan-3 @mayhaps-nerd @pinksaiyans @maidofking123

[chimchimsauce]

[chimchimsauce]

SCREAMING this is cannon idcccc ugh 😫

Endless Summer

Pairings- Yandere! Caleb x F!reader

Summary- You are staying home from summer break before Senior year of college with your Gran, Josephine, when a huge surprise happens, after over a year of being unable to see Caleb, he comes back to stay. You're so happy, but there's just a couple problems - one, you want him in ways you shouldn't, and you're just starting to get over it with the distance. And two, Caleb is pretty fucking pissed that you have a date, isn't he enough for you!?

Warnings- eventual smut, idiots in love, light angst, taboo relationships, TW- stepcest, mutual pining, yandere Caleb, him being obsessed. This chap - light angst, resolved sexual tension (yay!) oral sex (f and m receiving) fingering, overstim, breed kink, creampie, lost of virginity, possessive Caleb, Yandere behavior- WC 8.2k

Comments/Reblogs appreciated if you enjoyy

<<<Part Three - Part five (final) (coming soon)

Part four

Caleb stands by your door moments later that night, gently rapping on it, to see you open the door in tears, streaking down your cheeks, the sight breaking him. Knowing he just caused this, caused your eyes to glimmer, your lips to tremble, the Caleb who never let anyone make his pip squeak cry, had made her cry instead, the guilt eating at him.

Torn between doing what’s right, and doing what is ‘right’-  what is it?! What’s the ‘right’ move, the safe move, the one that doesn’t hurt you? What does he do, be selfish and devour you, make you leave everything to live on a base alone, away from all your friends and gran? Change the entire trajectory of your life - or does he let you go and hurt you in that way too?

Losing the years and years of friendship, it’s already been tense because he crossed that line, he let his jealousy wreck his mind. Years of holding his composure, of being in total control, of smiling and patting your head like he truly just thought of you as ‘family’ or a ‘childhood friend’ and not what it’s always been.

Since he saw you he fell in love, there was never one moment of Caleb’s life that he didn’t feel that way. The love grew and changed to something obsessive, but the moment Gran brought you home he knew it even then, that he had to protect you, keep you safe. That he needed you, and the need just kept evolving, until it reached the most dangerous obsession.

How would he ever say he stole your fucking panties, that he’s jerked it to you since he knew what it was, that he never even got hard to anyone but you. And you’re begging to suck him, god to fuck him, and he turned you down. It makes not only no sense, he has hurt you, he saw it on your face, your glittery tears with the moonlight filtering in.

It’s what he never, ever wanted.

It’s why he held back - ruining your relationship.

Was it better to absolutely never know what it was like, kissing your lips, to taste your sweetness from its source? To have watched you cum for him is the stuff he’d never even been able to picture fully, and he was so close to having it all. So close to being inside you, with you, only to now have you crying.

“What?” Your voice is harsh and quiet, he swallows then, swiping a tear off your cheek gently.

“I’m sorry, fuck… please…” He leans down and rests his head on yours, you feel your heart shattering when he cups your face, whispering your name gently in the quiet night. “Pips…”

“No,” it hurts to deny him, when all you want is him. “I’m tired of putting myself out there.”

His eyes narrow. “What!?”

“I am, just to get rejected,” you sniffle again, barely holding your composure, body trembling now as his lips that just touched yours hover precariously.

“You think there’s a world I reject you in?” His desperate words are hushed, his violet eyes dark in the night.

“You just did, Caleb.”

“I didn’t want to, I just…”

“Well, you did,” you step back, catching a breath. “You never thought to just ask me if I’d come? Don’t you know I’d follow you anywhere?”

He opens his mouth to speak, before shutting it, swallowing nervously then, knowing he’s waited his entire life for this very moment, and he’s fucked it completely, he’s made you feel rejected when it’s the last thing he wants. He keeps trying to find the words, on the tip of his tongue, chest tightening with how much he needs you, how much he craves you - loves you.

Hopelessly in love since he saw you as a kid.

Say it, Caleb - just say it.

“I didn’t want to ask that of you, I didn’t want to take you away from everything you know and love.” You take a shaky breath, eyes locking with his.

“I can’t take feeling any more, doing any more, if you’re just going to leave me, forget me.”

“I’d never forget you,” he whispers, holding you so close, your hands grip his wrists then, biting that lip as you two stand there, shadows of your figures cast along the expanse of the highway. “I’ll never fucking forget you, how could I? But I don’t want to ruin everything over this.”

“How would being honest ruin anything?” He sighs now, violet eyes dark as they tenderly take in your face.

“It already has. Look at how we’ve been since I came back?”

“You don’t understand anything, Caleb. You think I’m sacrificing something being with you, when I always wanted you to be my first, that's why I waited.” He swallows down the guilt, the torture of your words then.

“And you think I don’t want it? To be your first?”

“You just told me no,” you step back and put your hand on the knob now, looking away from the face you love, the man you adore. “Just leave me alone please.”

He walks away without another word, but you see it - his own tears, as you shut the door and lean against it, an arm wrapping your own body, struggling not to break down completely. You’re a mess of tears, the sorrow building in your heart, the dread of having to say goodbye - and now you can’t even pretend things are fine the way they have been.

Now it’s all fucking out there.

Maybe he’s right, maybe this would ruin everything, but you’re just so tired of lying to yourself any longer. 

*****

“Why so quiet, you two?” Josephine asks, tiredly looking between you both as you sit at the breakfast table.

Caleb’s hands tense on his thighs, staring and not touching a bite of food, the veins pressing up under his skin, looking at you now. “I guess I’m a little sad that I’ll have to be so far away.”

“And I’m sad he’s leaving I suppose.” you murmur, she smiles sadly, nodding to each of your plates then. 

“You two still need to eat, you know.”

“I know, my appetite isn’t here.” You sigh, poking your fork around, you’re too close to Caleb, yet so fucking far from him, the distance agonizing. This morning you both hadn’t said a fucking word.

After you embarrassed yourself last night damn near begging for him, even after his apology you just felt stupid. You get it, why he is afraid to cross the line further, but how were you just supposed to be okay with it? He’s infuriating, just acting like shit is normal, even now he gives you a small smile, as if you can return it.

You don’t want to waste the last couple days with him like this, but you also can’t bring yourself to act like everything is just fine. That he didn’t shatter your heart turning you down, that he didn’t completely destroy you for anyone when he devoured you on his knees. Like you could ever move on now.

Maybe before you could move on, you could make it work, but now?

Your cell phone starts going off, and you sigh, looking at it now. “Ah, there’s a get-together tonight with my classmates.”

“Where at?” Caleb asks casually, you resist the urge to tell him - why bother asking - knowing at this point you’re being petty.

His rejection stings so badly, and not just because he rejected you, but his reasoning just made no sense.

“The club out by the college.”

“Ah, isn’t that a pretty rowdy place?”

“And?” You raise a brow, and his violet eyes narrow, as the sunlight filters in the large kitchen windows, brightening them.

“And, are you sure you wanna go?”

“Well it’s all my friends, so yes.”

“Maybe Caleb should come along?” You both look at Josephine then, who is sipping on her coffee. “You two want to spend more time together before he has to leave, right?”

“Right… but Caleb would find the scene pretty boring.” He raises a brow now, looking at you. “And I’m fine by myself.”

Those words stab him, he wonders if it’s your intention, to fucking hurt him by pointing out that you’re fine by yourself - that you don’t need him. Whether it was straightening your hair, driving, or just sleeping alone during the storms, you did not need him anymore. And he should be happy, since he’ll be gone for so fucking long, that you’re self sufficient.

But a part of him wants you to still need him.

A part of him wants to take you up on your offer, selfless as it is, and bring you with him, make you a pretty stay at home wife that he consistently keeps pregnant. It’s a fucked up thought track but all he can think, when he sees you the possessive instincts are far worse. It’s why he pushes you away, it’s why he tries so hard to keep his control, his composure that’s been shattered.

Now he can tell you want a rise out of him, but it works far, far too fucking well. “You’re right Gran, we should spend some time together while we can.”

“Is it really important, spending time with me before you go? Maybe you can play Bingo with Gran tonight.”

“Bingo?” He demands, his voice low, brows raised, you sip on your orange juice, smiling a bit.

“I think Caleb should go with you,” Gran’s words make you pause, looking over at her. “I don’t think he’d enjoy Bingo, all the ladies will terrorize him.”

“They wouldn’t leave me alone last time,” he grimaces, running a hand over his face, you laugh a bit at the memory, the first time he’s seen you truly laugh today, brightening your face so prettily. His heart stops as you clear your throat then, staring back at your plate. “Think I’ll cramp your style, chase off your little boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, and I don’t know if he’ll be there.”

You’re clear about it - he’s not - but would he be, when Caleb left?

He has so much to say, so much he’s just dying to speak - how much he loves you, has always loved you. How deeply his feelings run, and how they’ll never fade, how they’ve just grown every moment in your presence, and every one in your absence. But to make it worse, the hurt, the possibility it doesn’t even work out, and you all lose everything.

“You can come if you want,” your voice is a little softer now, that sweet caress to his ears that fills him with even more longing. “I want you to go, it’ll be fun.”

“Yeah?” You nod, feeling how awful you’re being, and you can’t, you don’t have enough time to act this way.

If Caleb wants to be your friend, you will be his friend.

“Yes.” He brushes your hair back with a soft smile. It's familiar, it's a ruffle of your hair like you're still kids, that smile that always makes you ache.

Maybe going back to how you were would be the best thing, to forget the feelings eating you alive. The way everything stopped when he had finally kissed you, maybe you can forget it happened. It's clearly what Caleb wants. Later when you’re getting ready, and he walks by the bathroom he falters, eyeing your skirt and top, his lips parting as you pin an earring in.

“You’re wearing that?” He asks gruffly, you step out and do a little spin, showing off far, far too much skin and smiling.

“I am! Do you like it?”

He scoffs, stepping closer, your back pressing against the old wooden wall of the hallway, when a palm comes right on the other side of your head, his other letting his fingers trail across your shoulder. “Do I like it? Ya asking me that?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t, don’t want you trying to be nice-”

“You look slutty.” You gasp, smacking him then, and he exhales, gripping your chin and almost moaning.

“Fuck you for that.”

“See what happened? Can’t even get along, can we?”

“You know I’m not slutty, but maybe that’ll all change, hmm? Since the person I keep waiting for doesn’t want me - ah!”

“Don’t want you!?” He grabs your face then, his cheek still stinging, you bite back a whine when he leans low, his voice a whisper. “You know that’s the biggest fucking lie there is. I didn’t want to ruin it, everything we have - and what’s happening now, that we kissed?”

“You’re causing this,” you push him off then, tugging at your top, showing even more of your pretty tits as his jaw locks. “There, that’s better, right?”

“I swear to god-”

“Let’s go.”

The car ride was brutally quiet, his fingers kept hovering, itching to touch you over your bare knee, but you just looked out the window at the lights flashing by, fucking saying nothing. The tension and divide keeps growing with every breath, until you feel like you can’t breathe, it’s all him, all Caleb, and for him it’s all you. But the two of you make no move to speak, not even feigning casual conversation.

Caleb knows many of the people there, the two of you were only a couple of years apart in age and were always so glued together it was just par for the course that you spent time together. At times, Caleb’s friends would complain he always brought you everywhere, sometimes they would convince him enough and you’d stay home, but he’d miss you so badly it was hard to even have fun.

The nights spent waiting to see you again will be worse - further away - but also the looming thoughts of what he’d come back to. Quickly separated, he’s having a drink with a couple of the guys from his college days, and you’re downing a shot with one of your girls. That boy who’d marked your neck has the audacity to come up to you again, and Caleb’s hand clutches his glass tightly.

He almost can’t breathe, the lights suddenly flashing too quickly, there’s too many people, too much noise, his pulse races while he watches him tug you to the dance floor, something he wishes he could do. But how could he, in front of everyone, what would they say? Not about him, he couldn’t care less, but about you?

He can’t help but wallow in his own self made misery, picturing spinning you in his arms instead, it’s hard for him to hear what anyone is saying over the blaring music and his pulse racing in his ears. The thoughts keep flashing through his mind, over and over - his, his, his. Thoughts he has never been able to stop, the ones that are unbearable.

Caleb watches you over his glass now, he isn't drinking alcohol just soda, he'd rather make sure you're safe and okay. He almost needs a fucking drink though when he sees you, rolling your hips, that boy's hands on your hips as you dance. You’re giggling, drink in your hand, and he would think how pretty you were if he wasn’t contemplating breaking his fingers.

Is this what it would be when he leaves between the two of you? You moving on to some loser who could never, ever deserve you. You being with someone - fuck losing your virginity to some little idiot, when you begged for him to take it. Is that what he has to get in his head, the natural way of things, what's ‘right’ to do?

Caleb is so fucking tired of it.

Your eyes catch him across the dance floor, glassy as you never could handle your drinks. He remembers many nights of saving your ass when you'd sneak out, coming back tipsy from two little drinks, and he'd have to cover for you with Gran. Those were the moments he'd hug you a little tighter, let his hands linger, hoping you'd never notice.

But you'd cling to him, kiss his neck, giggle in that maddening way. Torture, you torture him. There is no other explanation for it, for what you do, but torture, and tasting you was just the sweetest form of it, having you beg him to be inside you, yet he turned it down, like a fucking idiot. He finally has what he wants and he’s terrified, now left to watch you as the lights illuminate your skin.

Each sway of your hip is painful to Caleb, knowing how badly he wants to grab your hips, when finally he can’t fucking stand it anymore. He can see by your mean little smile you want him jealous, you want the reaction - and he’s right. You do want that reaction, you want him to crave you, need you, in every single fucking way. You want him to desire you like you do him.

You don’t care about this boy, you almost feel sorry, you feel petty doing this, but you want to show Caleb what he is missing, shoving aside. For what? To be whatever he deems as okay, safe, the ‘right thing’, when all you want is more of him, all of him. Every movement is for his gaze, every casual role of your hips is thoughts you’re craving to tell him.

But you’re so scared of his rejection.

He starts walking your way, for a moment you think you’re in some delusion, that you’re just actually in your room still, crying yourself to sleep. In some wet dream where Caleb will take control, where he’ll beat your ass with that firm hand, tell you how bad you’ve been, filthy things that almost make you cry out loud, until he’s standing right in front of you, tugging you from the boy’s grip.

“We're leaving,” Caleb's tone is dark as he grabs your wrist, the boy fucking runs off from one look from Caleb, his long fingers wrapping your wrist tightly. He leans low, so close he can taste the sweet liquor on your breath. “Now, pipsqueak.”

“You can go, I'm having fun, Caleb,” you're giggling and sipping down your fruity drink, earning his deeper scowl under the lights, and people start watching you two curiously. “Something wrong?”

He laughs without humor then, shaking his head and taking your drink out of your hand. “Everything's fucking wrong.”

“And whose fault is that?” You lean up then, on your tiptoes, your hand on his shoulders, burning his skin even under the layer of his jacket, he inhales sharply at the sensation, his hands resting on your bare waist. “What exactly is wrong?”

“You shouldn't be out looking like this,” his grip tightens, and you gasp. “Only I should see your pretty body, in your slutty little fucking dress.”

“You don't even want to. I'm tired of your games.” You turn and he tugs you back to him, bringing you right against his chest in front of everyone, many who murmur to themselves a bit at the sight.

Caleb sighs, looking around and hesitating, but then sets your glass down with a cling, and tugs you closer, scowling right down at you. Your heart pounds in your chest, thrumming against his while he towers over you, a huge hand spread across your skin. “I’m not the one playing games, you are.”

“Don’t you care that they can see?” You whisper, he tilts your chin up then, shaking his head. “Haven’t you always?”

“I only cared because I worried what you thought, that’s it, that’s all I’ve ever worried about. You. Only fucking you, do you understand!?” He’s too close, you smell the scent of him, overpowering all the other mixed scents in the room, it’s all just Caleb now, the heat spreads through your body at his words, at his touch.

“I’ve never cared what anyone thought, I’d tell them all what I really feel,” he shakes his head, leaning lower now. “We’ve wasted all this time pretending, do you want to keep on with it? Should I go back and dance with him, and we go home to our separate rooms? That’s the ‘safe’ idea, right?”

“You think I’m letting you fucking dance with him again, his hands all over you? Your ass, your waist, your hips…” He trails off, fingers working their way, across the thin little crop top, down your skirt, your nipples press against the material of your top, soft on your skin, you can’t hold back your whine.

“Then show me - stop holding back. God, just show me what you actually feel, even if it’s for tonight,” your little whisper ends him, Caleb pulls back however, and you feel the emotions burning your eyes, until he’s tugging you away. “Caleb… what’re you doing?”

He says nothing, it’s humid and sticky outside, after passing the sea of curious onlookers - some smiling curiously, others with raised brows. Caleb - who sees you as a ‘little sister’ they all say, grabbing at you, leaning so close he could kiss you, perhaps they’re all murmuring right now, just what are you both to each other?

Caleb never, ever wanted anyone to hurt you with a rumour, it’s another reason he’s held back so long, but as he drags you to his car now, he’s quick in his strides, his mind lost completely. He’s torn between fucking you right in the car and realizing it’d be the worst fucking place to take you the first time. He’s tugged in two directions, an angry desire and an aching tenderness.

You’re quiet when he puts you in the car, when he comes to the other side and revs it up, the soft music playing one of your favorite songs, the air starting to blow cooly on your skin. Before you can speak, he’s leaned over the seat, that insane look in his eyes barely visible in the darkness, the quietness of the car, just that gentle hum of music and his heavy breaths.

He cups your face, thumbs slipping across your cheeks, your own hands come to grip his wrists as he just looks at you, breaths heavier and heavier. It fans across your lips, your skin, burning you as he’s so close to kissing you, so close you can taste him, a hand entangling in your hair and tugging, making you cry out, your head falling back.

“Did you like making me jealous?” His voice is dark now, tugging harder. “Asked ya a question, pips.”

“Yes,” he scowls deeper, you shift your hips, cunt aching from the sweet pain, from the need. “It shows your real feelings, the one you fucking bury.”

“So you did it all to make me angry?” You nod, you’re past pretending, he chuckles then, just a scoff of a laugh, looking down at your lips. “Should I show you just how fucking mad I am?”

“Show me - mnh!” Caleb slams his lips on yours then, the kiss is hot, hungry, brutal, not a gentle peck or a seductive caress, he takes over everything you are in that moment.

“Acting slutty when you’re mine, showing off your body when it’s for me,” you’re whining out, trembling when he kisses you in between insults, ones that are just making you throb, making you ache, his teeth sinking into your lips now. “Mnh, why do you torture me?”

“Torture you?” Caleb’s kissing down your throat, a hand gripping your thigh and pressing them apart, earning a ragged gasp from your lips, your hand grips his jacket, the denim of it against your fingers. “Ah!”

“You’ve tortured me for so long, fuck…” he’s lost in you, in your taste while his tongue licks a stripe right under your jaw, feeling your heat when his fingers press against your thigh. “Since I met you, haunting me, fucking up my head just by existing, don’t you even know!?”

You shake your head, and he moans, nipping your ear, his lips against it, murmuring your name so softly as you shift in the leather of his seats, head falling to the side for more of his greedy kisses. “Caleb, please.”

“Just say it, and I’ll give it to you. I swear I will.” He pulls back, swallowing nervously, studying your beautiful face in the dark, the heat decorating your cheeks, the way your lashes cast shadows on them. He feels the heat burning his hand, he knows you want it, but he has to hear it.

“I want you to let me touch you,” he moans, shaking his head. “I want to suck you.”

“You’re talking like that!?” He glares now, and you bite your lower lip, already swollen from him. “I’ll make you cum.”

“You can, after I taste you, Caleb,” he sighs, pulling back, sitting back in his seat and making you glare. “Really, thought you’d give me anything?”

“I’ll give it to you, on the way back, because I’ll cum inside that pretty fucking cunt,” you blush then, and he smirks just a bit. “Now ya nervous? Take what you want, pips, think I’ll stop you?”

He starts driving when you precariously lean forward, he’s unzipped in moments, moaning as your hair falls to the side, and you touch him over his boxers. “Caleb… y-you’re huge…”

“Can you take it all?” His voice is a challenge, your cunt is leaking against your panties when you tug him out, and he’s driving, the car gently swaying, his free hand gripping your hair.

“I want it all,” your whisper brushes his blush tip as you free him, a dusky rose pink, leaking pearly precum. You bite back a gasp at just how big he is, thick and girthy, straight cock all veiny as you press a kiss to the tip. He jerks, gasping and gripping your hair.

“Fuck…” He can’t barely handle a fucking kiss, let alone your little tongue along the slit, tonguing out his salty liquid leaking. “Honey…”

“You’re yummy too,” your little whisper is met with you sucking his tip in your mouth now, never having done it before. He’s tugging your hair tightly, but not moving you, almost pulling you back. “I want you to feel good.”

“I want you cumming, god it’s all I want, you cumming till you fucking pass out - mnh,” you suck him then, as he struggles to keep his hands on the steering wheel, your mouth feeling so fucking good he can’t stand it. “Pips, fuck, don’t take too much.”

“Mnh,” is all your response is, as you suck him deeper, saliva dripping down his cock, bobbing up and down, pressing your thighs together. His fingers slip down your spine, to the curve of your ass, slipping up your slit now, feeling it sticky and drenched to the touch. “Ah!”

“You’re this wet from sucking me?” He taunts, only making you suck him harder, the suction causing you to drool, while your hand grips his jeans, trying to balance yourself while the car drives. “I can’t wait to be inside you, fuck every thought of anyone out of your head. It’ll be just me, won’t it?”

“Mmhmm!” You’re so wet you hear it in the car, when he’s running his fingers back and forth over your clit, over and over, wetness pouring as you drool down his length, feeding off his little whimpers, his breaths catching. You’re sucking more and more, until he comes to a stop, yanking you off. “Caleb!”

“No, I’m cumming inside you,” he whispers, you realize you’re in front of your home in a daze, as he kisses you, tasting his salty cum off your tongue, tugging you against him. “Let’s go.”

You’re following him around the back yard, to the little poolhouse you all haven’t been inside in ages, the quiet one that you used to spend time in together as kids, less and less as the years went. He’s quietly stepping inside of it, littered with memories of every encounter when he shuts the door, turning you and pressing you against it.

“You’re all mine, don’t you know?” His whisper is dark, he cups your chin, turning it now, your lips part as your ass arches back, feeling his hard length when he presses you closer against the door. “Say it.”

“All yours,” it’s what you’ve always wanted to be, he kisses you again, moaning into your lips, when you feel the skirt unzip, falling into a pool at your ankles. “Caleb, please.”

“Let me take my time,” he’s this mix of needy, whiny and sexy, fucking self sure, hands tremble for just a moment when he slips your straps off your shoulders. “Lift your arms.”

You do just that, letting him tug your top off, leaving you in ruined, soaked panties. He turns you now, eyes studying your tits, hands gripping them, covering them, thumbs brushing your nipples. Your head falls back, while he kisses up your collar bone, your throat, and your panties are just nothing, stuck fabric pressed up between your lips now, you’re shoving his jacket off, he pulls back.

Caleb lets it fall, then you eagerly unbutton his shirt, pressing a kiss on his chest, right next to where his dog tags and that little apple lie, he sucks in a breath, picking you up then like it’s nothing. Your thighs are around his hips, when he carries you, lips only leaving for a quick breath or two, his hands gripping your ass now, as you grind eagerly on him.

Caleb carries you to the little bed you two used to cuddle on, watch movies on your phones under the blankets, giggle as he’d tell you a story, the memories of every inch of this little house feel perfect. You never, ever want to let them go, just mixing with new ones while he leans over you, your hand comes to his chest, eyes locking, and he holds in against him, drinking in the sight of you.

“Stop me now,” he whispers, and you shake your head. “Pips, before we cross this line, before I fuck your insides up, fill you over and over.”

“I want it, I want all of you- ah!” He’s kissing you again, teeth clicking, your noses bumping as he tilts his head, drinking every cry, one arm braced against you, his hard body sweating just slightly, dripping a bit on your bare skin, when he rubs you again over those panties. “Please, in me. God please.”

“Fuck,” he should be begging you, but he instead desperately kisses lower, sucking a pretty nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around one. “Perfect, beautiful, look at you.”

“Caleb!” He’s still rubbing that sad little strap of material against your cunt, pulsing around nothing with need, his teeth scraping an areola, so sweet and painful the pleasure fucks your mind. “Take 'em off, ngh!”

“Impatient, you put me through that much tonight and think I’ll give you what you want that quick?” His lips quirk at the corner now, watching the flushed mess you are. “I think I’ll take my time.”

Your answer is another whine as he sucks your other nipple, harder, cheeks hollowing as his soft brown hair falls over his brow. “Ah!”

You’re so beautiful under him then, when he eyes you, mouth a slutty o, tits bouncing just so when your hips jerk, overstimulated from his teasing over the lace and cotton. “Are you gonna be a good girl, pips?”

“Promise,” he chuckles, kissing lower then, tip of his pink tongue trailing between two breasts, right between your ribcage. You’re arching for more, when his kisses move lower, hands gripping your hips tightly. “Oh my god!”

He’s nipping your hip now, leaning up and slipping his hand down your thigh, your calf, slipping off a heel and tossing it to the floor. The other follows, when he finally grips your waistband, tugging them down achingly slow. You’re a writhing mess under him, as he kisses lower, breath ghosting your cunt, he sees it’s soaking wet and glistening.

“Your cunt is so wet already, is it only for me? Huh pips, just me?” You’re nodding, when he smacks your cunt, making you gasp. “Answer me, use those words pretty girl.”

“Only you, Caleb, god just you. Always you.” He lets out what sounds like a soft growl, broad shoulders spreading your thighs as your hands entangle in his hair.

“What do you need, how can I make you feel good?” He kisses up your inner thigh, torturing you, teasing you. “How can I make you forget anything but me?”

“There’s nothing but you, n-nothing, oh!” He presses a hungry kiss right on your hood then, your eyes roll back.

“Tell me what you need, use your words honey,” he urges you on, slipping a long finger, calloused from the amount of training he’s done, rough on your gentle, slick cunt, feeling even more delicious. “How can I make you feel better, where do you need me?”

“Mouth on m-me, please,” he moans now, already dying to have you back on his tongue, slipping it up your slit ever so slowly. “Ngh!”

“Do you know how many times I tasted you over the years?” You blink rapidly, confused and fucked out from his teasing, brain trying to register as he parts your puffy lips, tongue slipping up from your hole to your clit.

“Huh? How?” He chuckles then, the tickling alone having you gripping the sheets underneath you, gasping out when his teeth are against your cunt.

“You really wanna know?” You nod desperately, brushing his hair back gently, his fingers slip inside your hole now, filling and stretching you out, curling right on your spot. “Aw, can’t talk?”

“Y-yes, tell me. I wanna know - f-fuck!” He’s curling his fingers inside your gummy, slick walls, which quiver around him as his mouth kisses messy and filthy over your clit.

“Well, pips,” he watches as your body jerks, feeling you tense while his fingers work you like they’ve learned so quickly, your juices pouring down his wrist. His tongue slips some of it up, groaning. “Took your panties.”

“You w-what… ah!”

“Licked you off them, mnh,” he’s rutting his cock against the mattress now, while you’re arching up for more, head falling back in ecstasy as the pressure builds. “Buried my face in them.”

“Caleb you d-didn’t even, you’re - ah!” He’s sucking your clit into his mouth, humming as his fingers move up and down, over and over, and you feel it all building, the heat in your core, the slickness of your cunt louder and louder. “Lying!”

“Not lying, god I use them to jerk off once I’ve sucked all your wetness off them, they’re just not enough, not as yummy as your pretty pussy is from the source. Soaking, dripping wet - there you go, feel good?”

“Y-you jerked off in them!?” He’s chuckling again, leaning up, his chin coated in your slick arousals, you’re so close, when his thumb rolls on your clit, right with his middle and ring finger rocking up and down over and over, making you scream out, hands locked in their death grip of the cotton.

“Sure did, every pair I could find,” he leans over you now, rocking his hand with so much pressure you can’t stand it, writhing and gasping out at it. “You sure you really can handle me? Can you handle what I’ll do, when I lose it, finally inside you?”

“Caleb, god just, yes I want it! I do, stop teasing me.” You’re done for when he rocks them over and over, pressure exploding until your orgasm rocks you in waves, a messy, sloppy cunt pouring, pulsating around his thick digits.

“That’s it, cum f’me, just me, only me,” he’s lost now, kissing your cries up, while you gush embarrassing amounts of wetness down him, dripping onto the sheets beneath you until it leaves a wet spot on the white. “That’s it, you’re so beautiful, god pips.”

He’s kissing you now, letting you taste yourself, while his fingers continue to glide, making you jerk now, while they’re between now puffy lips, messy and soppy with the juices spilling. He slides down his pants, his boxers then, cock slapping his bare stomach, precum dripping on his flat belly button, finally laying on top of you, and that’s when he pauses.

He brushes your cheek with his fingertips so tenderly it makes your throat close with emotion, swallowing nervously when you reach down, stroking his thick cock with your little hand, barely wrapping the girth of it. He sucks in a breath, still brushing your cheek softly, his other arm so tense you see the veins pressing up from his thin, pale skin, decorated with faint freckles.

“Honey, are you sure?” He asks then, thumb brushing your swollen lip, plump under the pad of it. “This is your first time.”

“I always wanted it to be you, Caleb,” you blink back tears now, sniffling just a bit, because for every bit of desire there, in equal parts was emotions. “I want this, I want you inside me.”

“Fuck,” he’s letting you put it there, before he takes his cock, running the pale pink tip up your slit, bumping your clit, making your eyes roll back, your thighs jerk now. “It’s… it’s my first time too.”

You pause, looking up at him in surprise now, your mouth opens just a bit, hand slipping up his bare chest, where you feel his heart hammer. “You’ve never?”

“No, never, you just thought so. And I… was…”

“Embarassed?” You finish, he pauses, leaning on an elbow now, pressing in just a bit, enough to make you cry out. “Caleb, don’t be. Please don’t be.”

“I’m not here with you. But I want this perfect, so perfect for you, and… what if I can’t…”

“Shh,” you cut him off now, hips arching up, his tip pressing inside, stretching you. “With you? It’ll be perfect.”

He moans and slams his lips down, cock pressing past that tight ring of muscles, so thick he’s stretching you out so much it burns, it hurts. The first prick of pain causes a little cry, and he pauses, worry filling his amethyst eyes, even as the desire to shove his entire cock inside your cunt fills him. He rests his head on yours, pausing there, not moving, hands on your hips now.

“Are you all right? I can eat you out more - I could do it all fucking night,” he says softly, pulling back now, you cry out in pain again, and he frowns, immediately worried. “Am I hurting you!?”

“No, n-no just give me a minute, you’re really big,” he flushes, thankful you can’t see in the dark, letting you adjust, pressing little kisses along your brow, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “I want it, I want you. I need you - ah!”

Caleb’s done then, slamming his cock half way, that alone is so many inches stuffed in your perfect cunt, and you take it so perfectly. “Made f’me, aren’t you? Say it, pips, say it.”

“M-made f’you,” you’re hardly able to talk, so sensitive that when Caleb bottoms out, you feel an orgasm hitting, you’re gushing, tight muscles contracting, as his big hands grip your hair, and his lips move over yours. “Mnh!” 

“That’s it, mmm she’s so wet, so fucking tight - ah fuck…” Caleb’s lost then, in the cries filling his ears, in your gummy walls just gripping him so tight he can’t take it, a hand entwines with yours as he sinks in fully, pressing your cervix. “So tight.”

“C-Caleb! You’re so deep!” You’re gripping his back, nails pressing in as his drooly tip hits your cervix, looking to see his eyes have gone black. 

“God I wanna fill you, breed you, fuck you so much you can’t walk,” he’s lost now, lifting your thigh and fucking you harder, delicious strokes that destroy you with every thrust of his hips. You’re shaking underneath him, lost in his words, filling your mind with filthy images. “Have you dripping my cum, next time you dance with someone - hah - it’ll be slipping down your little hole.”

He’s mean with his strokes, but his fingers are entwined with yours, your tits are jiggling as he shoves deeper, so deep. You’re so full, tummy tensing as you feel him everywhere, yet his kisses are gentle, for every brutal thrust there’s a caress of his rough fingers, a murmur of beautiful for every slutty little cunt. The duality of him, the love and caring, then the filthy desire is impossible to handle.

You’re so close again, and he sees it, he knows it, shoving your thighs up and fucking you harder and harder, the sounds filthy, while your nails sink in and leave marks he hopes last forever. His fingers leave bruises as he fucks you hard, skin slapping, heavy balls hitting your ass where your cum is dripping down it, making a mess of you both.

“So messy, god you love it, being filled by me, huh?” You helplessly nod, while Caleb pounds harder, your cunt is struggling to adjust, stretch and accommodate, and he’s lost again. “Need to cum, honey? Need me to play with your little clit?”

“Pl-ease Caleb, please,” you’re whimpering, the sound mixed with your fluttering eyes and flushed skin too perfect, Caleb shoves your thighs up high then, thumb finding your clit. “Ngh!”

“That’s it, only I know you, only I will ever know you like this, say it,” he’s running circles now, torturous ones with slower strokes, hard ones that make those filthy wet smacking sounds. “Say it, Pips.”

“Only you will, g-god there! Please!”

“I’ll give you anything beautiful, anything,” his cock shoves in so deep, you can’t breathe with the fullness, his finger working in tandem to push you right over that edge, letting out a shaky moan. “That’s it, cum for me, just me, only me.”

Your orgasm crashes hard, spreading throughout your body once that coil in your tummy releases. You’re shaking, body tensing and twitching, cunt spasming around the thick invasion in your cunt now. Caleb moans as he watches you, pausing for a moment, as you murmur his name, almost drunkenly. The pleasure is so intense - even more so than his mouth, than his fingers.

You feel tears fall from the sweet release as Caleb continues to fuck you, his thrusts slower, easier, whispering your name. Not pipsqueak, not honey, no he says your name like a love declaration, eyes never leaving yours, so full of everything you know he wants to say, the things you’re holding back even with him inside of you, making you feel like you’re falling apart.

It’s too much, so much pleasure you can’t even think, can’t do anything but feel him, as he keeps up those little circles now, watching you twitch and spasm underneath him. “C-Caleb, it’s too much, s-sensitive…”

Your cunt grips him like a vise, and he chuckles now, not sweet Caleb, no he’s insane. “You can cum again, can’t you pips? Waited forever for this, I need you cummin’ till you can’t think, can’t see, can’t form a word.”

He’s relentless, his thumb on your clit now faster again, more insistent as it twitches under him, making you scream as you come apart, muscles spasming around his cock, juices spurting out onto his stomach with the force of it. The sight is too much for him, you don’t even see it, you're squirting all over, your head is thrown back, your mouth wide open in a cry.

“That’s it, look how messy you are, you want it - me to fill you?” He asks softly, husky voice so deep, like a soft growl, leaning back to spread your thighs now, letting them fall and tremble to the side. “God, look.”

He’s enamored with the bulge, you’re too fucked out to answer, while he moves slowly, savoring every inch, your juices falling all over, making a squishy mess of your hole now. You’re taking him easier and easier, hips arching where they bucked back before, hands shaking when he takes one, kissing the back of it, so tender you almost cry.

How would you ever let him go now?

He brushes your hair back, kissing you again, exhaling as he feels the love declaration on the tip of his tongue, still so terrified to cross that line, but he knows it then, what he’s always known. You are his everything, you are the only thing in this world that means something, and now your fucked out, lidded gaze hits him, the beauty gripping his heart.

“You’re s-so perfect f’me, so beautiful,” you blink more tears, god even those make him thicken, make the head of his cock swell, while he feels your aftershocks. “You’re mine to breed, only mine, mine to fill with all this cum. I need you to say it, Pips, say you want it all.”

He’s insane, you know it then, his possessive eyes glinting. “Breed?”

“Yes, put so much cum inside you, fuck put babies in you,” he grips your chin, as the words terrify you as much as they make you wetter. “Hide you away from anyone, never let a man fucking touch you.”

“C-Caleb-”

“Say it, say it, you’re mine all mine,” he’s whining out, pleading, even as his cock wrecks you - how the fuck Caleb was a virgin you can’t even fathom. He cups your face tightly, eyes black with desire. “Say it.”

“Yours, yours too breed, yours to fill, y-yours,” you finally manage the words, and he moans, lips slamming down, when he shoves in one more time, flooding your cunt with so much cum, it’s ridiculous the amount of white, puffy ropes that shoot up and coat your walls then. “Caleb!”

“Wanna put babies inside you, so fucking many, you’ll never ever leave me, will you? Never,” you’re just nodding, crying hot fat tears as his cum pumps more and more, his cock pushing it deep, your thighs press into his narrow hips, heels against the dimples on his back as he rolls them again. “Never leave me. Never let anyone t-touch you, h-have you.”

“C-caleb,” you’re shushed with his kisses, as he says shit you don’t even understand, as you watch him fall off the edge with his possessiveness, he kisses up your jaw in the quiet poolhouse, the fan overhead swirling, cooling your sweat slicked skin. “Mnh!”

“Sore, honey?” You manage a nod, your cunt is sore, achy and throbbing, he pulls back, looking down at you with such affection and love your heart clenches. He sighs softly, kissing your forehead, exhaling, his breath blowing the baby hairs on your brow. “I got carried away, you felt so perfect.”

“N-no, no I loved it.” He sighs again, this time in relief, as he leans back, kissing your lips, cock slipping out and dripping with both of you down to the blankets.

“You need me to make you feel better, don’t you? I was too rough.”

“You weren’t, it was perfect,” you give him a tremulous smile, seeing his relief mix with concern when he eyes your abused hole, fingers slipping down it and making your hips jerk just a bit. “I just can’t… this can’t be just once.”

“You think I’d do it just once? I don’t want it just once tonight,” you’re blushing so pretty, he chuckles a bit, before focusing again. “I need to clean you up. Wait right here, okay?”

You nod, heart pounding, soon Caleb has you all cleaned up, the evidence of your first time apparent, tugging on his heart as he worries he was too rough, but you’re blissfully smiling when you sleep in his arms, wearing his dress shirt and nothing else. As Caleb holds you in his arms, everything starts crashing - reality, that you’re both in a pool house, that your relationship has changed forever.

Could everyone accept it?

He would never care, but again he thinks of you - always of you, smiling as you cuddle him, snuggle him. He brushes your hair back, wanting to figure out everything as much as he can, the logistics, what he should do, what wasn’t just ‘right’ for everyone, but right for you.

Another part of him is thrilled your cum is slipping out of your cunt, he hadn’t even asked you if you’re on anything, he hopes you’re not actually. The sick, twisted desire and possession fills him, he could eat his cum out while you sleep soundly, put more cum inside you, it takes everything to hold back, to just kiss your head, his eyes fluttering shut.

That’s when he hears it.

A murmur, a whisper, in your sleep.

‘I love you, Caleb’

Do you… feel the same for him?

yes they FINALLY made progress lol, their end next chap will be happy dw, thanks for everyone reading this one :') It's my first Caleb chapter fic and I def am enjoying it hehe

Kofi link if you wanna buy me a glass of wine 🍷

tags- @blitziwitch @mcdepressed290 @hyunjifilm @mentaltrouble2201 @aquarianbeat @tartartagliaboo @trishiepo0 @virtualityhome @slytherin-min99 @plzdonutpercieveme @taebvby @jlynns-posts @coralbae @thejujvtsupost @deathrye @tsumoorin @mynsan @lostfracturess @dummiebunny @ashirelle @ilovesugurugeto69 @ilovechanyeol16 @sylusqt @liluvtojineteyam @lunaryasha @maisiefrancesca @ravenbc @straows @callme-amaya @yandereaficionado @wordsgodeep @bandomonia @ellexamor @sukunasunflower @wooasecret @kithyyy @yizhouge @dreamingoftomorrow @sylvieisoffline @whiteghostt @szafficat @lhhlver @sanzy4 @chaoticbardlady99 @mistress-daddy-nyx @pinksaiyans @webshooterrr9 @mynsan @bluerskiees @keylimepiebby

[chimchimsauce]

Endless Summer

Pairings- Yandere! Caleb x F!reader

Summary- You are staying home from summer break before Senior year of college with your Gran, Josephine, when a huge surprise happens, after over a year of being unable to see Caleb, he comes back to stay. You're so happy, but there's just a couple problems - one, you want him in ways you shouldn't, and you're just starting to get over it with the distance. And two, Caleb is pretty fucking pissed that you have a date, isn't he enough for you!?

Warnings- eventual smut, light angst, taboo relationships, TW- stepcest, mutual pining, yandere Caleb, he's a virgin bc that's canon to me, him being utterly obsessed. This chap - angst and smut oral sex (f receiving) fingering, overstim, squirting, a fuck ton of sexual tension again, hurt feelings, possessiveness, Caleb just torturing himself tbh- WC 7.2k

Comments/Reblogs appreciated if you enjoyy - taglist open <3

<<<Part two - Part four>>>

Part Three

Caleb hardly talks to you the next couple days, he catches up with friends from college, and you hide in your fucking room, lost in your own head. When you two pass each other in the halls, you barely talk to him, he hardly speaks to you, he doesn’t touch you like he usually does, no brushes of his fingers, no playful touches. He doesn’t linger his gaze on you anymore.

The times you missed him so badly and would treasure these visits that get less and less frequent, only for a simple moment to make everything so difficult. You didn’t want him to stop, you wanted him to do more, fuck you’d have lost your virginity right in the damn car if he let you. But you couldn’t admit the simple truth, the words that terrify you.

That you love him, way differently than you should, and maybe it’s always fucking been that way - maybe you always loved him too much.

It’s awkward still, a couple days later when Gran has left to go shop with her friends at yard sales, she does it every other Sunday. And Caleb is making toast, shirtless, you have to look at that perfectly sculpted back, the dimples at the bottom of it on either side. He looks back at you, his side profile just far too fucking sexy in the soft filtering light of the morning.

God and you’re staring at his ass!

You hate yourself more lately.

“Morning,” he doesn’t say pips, he doesn’t say honey. He hasn’t since the car, when he touched you. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you admit, he used to make you breakfast, but the tension is clear in his tense muscles. “Um, I’ll make some eggs.”

“I’ll make you some,” you both go to grab the fridge at the same time, his hand over yours then, and you pause, looking at it. Strong and calloused, rough hands that addle your fucking mind, before looking into those eyes, like a sunset glimmering. “You know I cook better than you.”

“Are we talking now?” You ask softly, he glares, hand tightening.

“You’re the one avoiding me.”

“You’re the one… leaving me on… read.”

“What message did you send?”

“Not what I mean,” you shake your head, letting go now, but his hand is still over yours, his body is so close, you inhale that clean scent he has, the fresh shower bouncing off his skin. “I’m just tired. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, are ya not sleeping well?” He touches your dark circles with a cool thumb, cupping your face, and it takes everything not to just beg him to kiss you, fuck to do more.

“I’m not sleeping well,” your words are quiet, eyes fluttering shut. “That feels good.”

He swallows, continuing the gentle cool brushes under your eyes, as his fingers cradle your face like it’s precious - it is precious to Caleb, all of you is, every pretty part of your body. Not just that either, god your energy surrounding him, your very being that he missed so much, and he knows he’s going to be moving so far away, when the fuck would he get to see you again, hold you?

“Should I help you sleep tonight, I can… count airplanes to a hundred, you remember when I used to?” You giggle then, smiling and looking up at him, so precious you make his heart ache impossible more.

“I do remember that. I’d never make it to a hundred, did you count all that way?” He pulls back a bit, smiling.

“I did, you always passed out at fifty.”

“Your voice was so soothing,” you clear your throat now, looking at the fridge and bending down, grabbing the eggs out, brushing against him damn near. He barely handles the fucking motion, trembling as you do. “You can make em.”

“Smart girl.” You both fall into a comfortable silence, you finish the toast and slather it with butter, then pour him his favorite apple juice. It feels too fucking domestic, every bit of you both, how could you ever experience this with someone else in the future?

How would you ever be comfortable like with him, he’s seen you at your best and your worst, he’s the closest person to you. Part of you wants to shove these nagging thoughts back and just enjoy him until he leaves, the other part wants more than you fucking should. Far, far too much.

“You’re so quiet around me,” his words are soft, you hand him a piece of toast and smile then. “You okay?”

“We should um… spend time doing something fun together. Before you go, just the two of us.” He smiles then, his lashes lowering, taking a sip of the juice you poured now, adams apple bobbing.

“Let’s do it, what do you wanna go do? Amusement park?”

“Oh gosh, maybe the beach or something? I don’t know about rides!”

“You’re suuch a baby.”

“Hey!” It’s perfect then, until he gently brushes a drop of juice off your chin, and you both freeze at the damn contact.

How can you act normal when his touches make you want to straddle him!?

You are flushed then, so flushed he frowns, touching your cheek. “You’re warm, you feeling okay?”

“Too much sun lately.”

“But you want more?”

“Yes! While you’re here.” He nods then, and soon he’s driving you in his car, the tops down, it’s blissful. Him watching your hair fly back so fucking pretty, your beautiful smile on your face, those big sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose.

He wants to take a million pictures of you, to keep forever.

It’s perfect as you two set up your things, as you both run into the water and are laughing, Caleb knows you can’t swim for shit so he’s got you on his back as he steps deeper. The sun is shining as you sigh, snuggling up close to him, warming both of your skin, your one arm is wrapped around his neck as the other hand gently brushes his chest.

“It’s perfect here, let’s just stay,” you murmur softly, lips pressed against his ear as you rest your chin, he smiles back at you, little streaks of blond already in his hair showing through the thick chocolate strands. “I’ll become a fish.”

“You’d be a terrible fish,” he says, laughing now. “Can’t swim!”

“Well maybe I could if I was one!”

“You’d be a washed up mermaid.”

“Hey!” You’re both laughing, feeling the ease of each other’s company, when he’s carrying you back you both see your friends again, they’re both talking each of your ears off.

The boy you’ve been talking to on and off is with the group, but you avoid him. How can you even go near someone when Caleb will always have your heart like this? You’re sitting alone, listening to your music as the waves lap on the sure, pretty birds flying over you, when Caleb comes to sit next to you on the laid out beach towel. He’s dripping wet still, droplets undulating across his abdomen.

He leans on an elbow, laying on his side and studying you carefully, his eyes filled with something you can’t describe. “Now you’re quiet.”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” He brushes the damp strands of hair back, his other hand dangerously close to your thigh now, you shift closer, like his gravity is just pulling you towards him, breath caught in your throat. “That bathing suit… it looks so…”

He trails off, you blush a bit, pretending it’s the sun, as his hand hesitates, fingers tracing the air across your thigh, terrified to cross that line, especially in public. Thinking of anyone saying bad things about you would infuriate him, he could never let you handle something like it.

And what would they say?

Caleb didn’t care, not for him, but you’re too fucking important, the best friend he’s ever have, the closest to him. So his hand eases back, as you let that breath you’ve held go, he closes his mouth, not finishing his words. “It looks so…”

“Good, pip squeak.”

He smiles, sitting up now, you feel him again, pulling the fuck away from you. You bite back your frustration, looking out at the beach again and hugging your knees. You’re so beautiful like that, if Caleb could paint anything in his life it would be you right now, how the wind blows your hair, how your skin looks from the glow of the sun.

Why can’t he say it?

“Do you want me to count those airplanes tonight?” He teases, and you shake your head now, earning his frown. “No?”

“I’m good on my own,” your words kill him then, he can see you slipping further, despite his hope that today could be a reconciliation. But everything is too raw and exposed. “But thank you.”

“Yeah, all grown up I know.” He playfully ruffles your hair, playing his role - fuck he’s tired of it.

*****

It’s storming again, despite the beautiful sunny day, as you lay alone in your bed, shutting your eyes and picturing him, the memories of all those nights You’d come in his room, and he always would rub your hair, count those planes, as the storms would rage outside. You remember when you stopped being afraid of the storms, when they stopped bothering you.

But you still came to him.

Why wouldn’t you, when he feels like home?

You toss and turn, the blanket a tangled mess in your quiet room, as the storm gets louder, echoing with patters along the window, you hear the wind howling, the tree branches scratching the side of the house. The noises drive you fucking insane, you can’t sleep, especially with the thoughts swirling in your mind over and over, memories and fresh fantasies intertwining.

You finally throw your blankets off, feet touching the cold floor underneath, tentatively walking step by step, until you reach his room, hand hovering on the knob now. You turn it tentatively, hearing it click, peeking in the room now, seeing him sitting up in the bed, reading with the soft light next to him on. He’s startled when you walk in, shifting a bit.

“Pip squeak, what’re you up this late for?” He sets the book down, and you see he’s shirtless yet again, his silver tags resting against his breast bone, right between those flat nipples. You touch your own without thinking about it, fingers running over the cool metal, tilting your head as you watch him sit up.

“Sorry, the storm… it’s scaring me.” You’re walking over by his bed now, he sighs, looking away, fists clenching.

As if he can handle you in his bed at this point.

“You’re scared?”

“Yes um, maybe you could… let me lay here?” You’re right next to him now, he could reach out and wrap an arm around your hips, kiss up your tummy, feel your skin under his palm.

“Thought you were too grown up now,” Caleb’s words are dark, lightning illuminating his figure on the bed while he lays there and looks at you. The rain is pattering across the window, while you tremble when you see the look on his face, the heat in his eyes, you’re hugging yourself tightly. “Why come here now?”

“Never mind then, sorry I bothered you,” you turn and he’s on you before you get to the door, pressing it shut and gently gripping your wrist, exhaling. “What?”

“I’m sorry, I just…” He trails off, you feel his hard body against you, his fingers brushing your hair back softly, leaving goosebumps along your skin. “I thought you didn’t need me anymore.”

“That’s not it, not at all.” You hold it in, what you want to say, that you need him in different ways, ways that terrify you and make you question everything. Could your relationship ever really work, could you ever be together?

“Then what is it, all mad at me for days. Was it because I… touched you.”

It was because he stopped touching you.

You shake your head, not trusting the words coming out, Caleb tugs you to him, hugging you from behind then, while you shut your eyes, dying at how good he feels, so strong and warm. Your body reacts as much as your heart does, you’ve just missed him so much too, you feel it all as he presses a kiss on your head, it’s something he did at times, but it all feels so different now.

Before you could pretend better, shove it down more, but since he got back you feel like you can’t hold back. You’re standing there as the little popping sound of his sweet pecks hits your ears, the rain still hammering the window as the two of you stand quietly, just the sounds of your breathing filling the room with the back noise of the storms that still scare you.

“It wasn’t that, it’s just… Caleb, I’m still scared of storms,” you say then, and he turns you, warm hands covering your bare arms, sighing. “I learned to be alone but it doesn't mean I want to when you're here.”

“Oh honey,” he feels horrible then, he's been so cold the past couple days to you, to avoid the blatant need. Feeling horrible his control slipped for a moment, but you still want to come to him. “Do you need me?”

You nod quickly, you need him in so many ways, struggling to keep your composure as the need hits. Deep and hungry, forbidden, you can't even let yourself think about it lately. But you will take any of him you can, including being in his arms, stepping closer now, impossibly closer.

“Do you wanna lay in my bed, Pips? I'll rub your hair like you like,” he murmurs, smiling in that heartbreaking way he does. You nod and swallow nervously when he takes you by your wrist, bringing you over to his bed now. He lifts up the blanket for you, and you slip under it, he always does that, he’ll lay on top of them, maybe to be respectful.

You lift the blanket for him before he can lay down, and he pauses at it, before blushing in the dark, as he hesitates. “You’ll get cold.”

“I’m like a space heater,” he doesn’t think he can handle it, being pressed against you with at least the barrier, but he slips under it, leaning on his elbow on one of his plush pillows, brushing your hair back. Your heart hammers at the tender show of affection, his sweet smile. “You still need me I guess. Just a bit.”

“Of course I do,” you’re nuzzling his hand, pressing a kiss there for a moment, your eyes shutting a bit. “Do you ever need me, too?”

What a fucking question, he can hardly process it - he needs you like the fucking air he breathes. His only fault in all of his pilot training and school was his psych evals, because he couldn’t get you off his fucking mind. It was an obsession that was never going away, he didn’t need you to do anything but exist and he was ruined, never thinking anything could be more.

He thought he’d be okay with you moving on, he knew one day you’d date someone, you’re beautiful and young. People love you. He is in love with you, so why wouldn’t other people be? But the truth was he wanted to be selfish, he wanted to keep you to himself, forever, even though it’s not a possibility.

The talks at the pool alone, along with Gran… it just showed the way people perceive the two of you, if only he could just take you all far away, where no one knew you, not this old neighborhood where everyone knows you all so well, the one you two grew up in since the day you met.

“What’s on your mind?” Your words shake him from his thoughts, you’re looking at him with those eyes, the ones that always try to read him and fail.

“Nothing pips,” he’s always lying, he has to. How can he tell you what he really thinks? “Get some rest.”

“Could you um… hold me?” He’s exhaling now, he used to hold you when you were younger, but it’s gotten impossible. But he would do anything for you, so he puts on a brave fake fucking smile, nodding and holding you at an arms length. You scooch back, and he sucks in a breath, the curve of your ass against his cock now.

Fuck.

“Night pips,” he murmurs, arm wrapping your waist now, his thigh against your heat, god why do you have to feel so good? He’s tucking his cock up in the waistpants of his boxers, trying to keep his hips pulled back. He presses his lips against your temple, a hand slipping against your waist. “I’m sorry about the other day.”

“Don’t apologize please.” You shift a bit, brushing against his thigh and gasping at the sensation, you feel Caleb tense then. “Mnh.”

“Maybe… maybe I should… lay on the floor.” He manages, pressing his thigh harder, feeling your soaking cunt on his bare thigh. “Tell me I should.”

“No, I w-want you to hold me,” you’re rolling your hips, needy and desperate, as his hand grips you so tightly, you’re struggling to catch a breath at it, heart hammering when you roll them again. “S-sorry…”

“Don’t apologize either.” His words reassure you, when he lets you spread your thighs, rolling your hips more and more, he’s throbbing as you do. “Was it from that boy?”

“No, Caleb.” You finally answer it, the words releasing softly from your lips, he exhales at that, moaning now, tugging you closer.

“Do you need me to help you?” His hand slips slowly down your tummy, it trembles under his touch, as you look back at him with dilated eyes, biting your lower lip. “Ask me if you need it.”

“I need it, please, Caleb… it hurts.” He’s always taken care of you when you’re hurt, the words plus your cunt drooling on him are enough to almost make him bust against his waistband.

“Ask nice enough I’ll give you anything,,” he’s slipping his fingers lower, now he knows where your little clit is, he brushes it over your shorts. “Hurts here?”

“Y-yes,” you’re whining out so loud he has to cover your mouth, as the reality of what you two are doing hits, and your eyes meet. Your breaths are coming too quickly, when he slips your shorts to the side, finding you soaking wet. Your eyes roll back when he presses on your clit again.

“Shh, please,” he’s lost when he releases your mouth, wanting to see your pretty face, rolling in circles as you keep riding his thigh, gasping. “Faster, slower?”

“Perfect- mnh!” Your head falls back against him, hands gripping his forearms, feeling the muscles and tendons bulge and move as he works you, as you hear the embarrassing wetness squish as it pours.

“God you’re so wet,” he doesn’t think this could be normal, the way your clit twitches, the way your cunt is so wet as he dips a finger in your hole, pulling back his thigh then. “Do you need more?”

“I’ve never… Caleb…” your words are clear, you’re not any more experienced than he is. But he wants to seem capable, he wants to make you feel so fucking good, to make you comfortable. “I play with myself though.”

“You do?” His words are hoarse, you nod quickly, wriggling as his finger tip prods your little hole. “That’s slutty, pips.”

“Don’t you?” You look back at him, cheeks flushed, eyes so glittery when the lightning illuminates the room.

“You’re asking slutty questions too,” he’s curling a finger in your gummy walls, gripping him already, you’re gasping at it. “You like that, is that what you need?”

“More.” Your words are a hoarse whisper, Caleb’s more than eager to give you it, kissing your neck, curling up again at the spot that’s just a little spongy, the one that makes you quiver. “Yes, please.”

“You’re asking so sweetly now, you still need me huh?” You’re nodding, he needs this, you to need him, want him, it’s almost too much, he’s burying his head against your neck, inhaling your scent. “Is this just me helping you out?”

“What do… you want… it to-” There is a huge clap of lightning then, so loud the lights go out, a large boom of thunder.

“Shit,” he pulls back then, as he hears footsteps. “I need to check the breaker, Gran will freak out.”

“Of course.” You pull back, biting your lip again, cursing yourself for not being able to hold back, to control yourself, when you hear Gran’s door open across the hall, and footsteps, calling your names.

The two of you look at each other again, breaths quicker as he takes your hand, and you both realize how close you are to losing it. “I’ll be back.”

He’s grabbing sweats and slipping them on long slim legs, turning on his phone flashlight, as he and Gran softly talk, and you panic, eyeing the slick mess you’ve made down your inner thighs. You don’t just want Caleb to help you, you want him to be with you, but to say it, to do it?

It’s terrifying.

He’s back soon, the soft lights back on, shutting the door carefully and eyeing you, holding a blanket to your chest, right in his bed. Facing Gran when he’d just had his fingers in you was ridiculous, she surely never thought anything about the two of you in bed together, she knows you’re close. But the very nature of your relationship just wasn’t the same.

“I should go to my bed,” you say then, stepping out from the covers, walking by him when he stops you, and your eyes meet.

“I didn’t help you yet,” his words are far too husky, needy, as he steps you until your back is against his door. He locks it with a quiet click that resounds loudly in his bedroom, bending down to cup your cheek. “Don’t you hurt?”

“I can’t ask you to do that, I am sorry I… I shouldn’t…” He’s so close to kissing you, his lips hovering, straight nose brushing yours.

“You don’t want me to make you feel better, pips?”

“Of course I do- but… what’s it… change? For us?” Your words are heavy, your hands on his bare chest, eyeing the muscles there, feeling his heart race under your palm. “I shouldn’t ask that from you.”

“You think I don’t want to help?” You turn away then, hand on the knob, and he tenses, stopping yours with his own.

“I can’t ask it, we can’t… I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not. You’re just needy, you’re wet… you’re so hot…” he’s gripping your chin then, hand back between your thighs, you’re biting back a moan, arching for more of his touch. “I told you I’ll do anything for you, if you just ask me, if you just say what you need.”

His words are desperate, his breath heavy as you roll your hips, pressing for even more of him. “Anything I ask?”

“Anything,” you shut your eyes, exhaling. “I’ll always help you, I will always be here for you.”

You’re so in love you feel sick, thinking of all the ways you’ll never have him. “You’ll leave soon.”

“Yeah, I will, so use me while I’m here.” His words are too much now, you are coming undone as his other hand grips your tit, squishing it gently.

“I wanna cum, please, I’ve only cum by myself.” He moans at that, the thoughts of it just being him igniting his most possessive, toxic feelings, when he turns you back around, sinking to his knees. “C-Caleb?”

“Shh, have to be quiet or I can’t,” he’s slipping your shorts down, your breasts heave with every quick breath, cunt pulsing around nothing as he looks up at you, his soft brown hair falling over his brow. “I’ll make you cum over and over, until you’re satisfied completely, yeah?”

“Caleb um… what’re you…” He’s got your bare pussy in his face soon, moaning as he sees it, just how fucking beautiful it is, and you’re so nervous. “Is it um… you’re seeing all of me.”

“It’s beautiful, you’re perfect.” His words reassure you, when he tugs a thigh over his broad shoulder, looking up at you under his lashes.

“Have you… done this?” You manage to ask, and he pauses, inhaling your sweet cunt, god he’s tasted you already so many times, but from the source?

“Would that make you mad, pips, if I ate someone’s pussy?” You glare now, and he smirks just a bit, raising a brow and tilting his head. “Yeah? Why?”

“It wouldn’t! Of course not, I just meant… I just… it’s something I… Caleb, you’re staring at it.”

“It’s perfect, can’t help it.” He’s pulling your folds apart like he’s studying every part of your little hole, separating the puffy lips then letting them slip back together, glistening wetness dripping across his thumbs. “You’ve only shown me?”

“Yes,” he’s kissing your cunt then, a sweet pop of his lips, you almost scream, covering your mouth with a hand. “Mmm!”

“Shh,” he’s lapping his tongue up your slit, groaning softly as he drinks your nectar, so sweet and perfect against his tongue. He knows it’s wrong to have already tasted you, he knows he shouldn’t have stolen all those panties. Acting a perfect ‘step brother’ when all he wants to do is drink you. “I want you to tell me what you like.”

“I like… all of it…” He smiles a bit, lapping his tongue up again, flicking his tongue on your clit, it’s so good you almost bite your fucking tongue, hips pressing against his face for more. 

“Good girl, ya listenin’ huh?” You’re nodding, helpless as he starts focusing on your clit, as his fingertips brush the slick that's gathered, shoving two of them deep inside of you, you gasp at it, head slamming the door as his tongue works your clit in circles, until you're pulsing around them, drooling. “Aw, you're so messy honey.

He's taunting you as he sucks your clit into his hot mouth, curling his fingers right up, and you can't think of how wrong it is, you can't think of fucking anything but cumming for him. You're biting down on your knuckles as he works you, as you're so soaked your slutty cunt drips onto the hardwood floor as his fingers work you up and down, and the pressure builds.

You’re gripping his locks and tugging, as he loses himself, just diving in and licking every crevice, every inch of your pussy and relishing in it, in the taste of you, in how you feel. He loves every movement and motion of your body, sucking you up and drinking you, his tongue swirling in quick flicks while his fingers find that spot again and target it.

He’s got your head slamming the door harder, you’re lost, screaming weakly into your palm, feeling yourself lost to him, to all the sensations, grinding on his face soon, for him to pull back and moan. “That’s it, use me honey.”

You’re grinding quicker, as he keeps up the pace, honing in on every place that makes you gush, until you finally feel it, the release about to come, his touches are nothing like your own, they’re unlike anything. Your heart hammers in your chest, as the sounds get lewder, the squelching even louder in his room, mixed with his soft whines, as his free hand brushes his own cock.

He’s about to cum from licking you.

“Cum for me, now.” His voice is commanding suddenly, it’s not sweet Caleb, it’s the military officer's voice, and of course you cum, how can’t you?

You’re gushing so much it’s embarassing, the wetness making such a mess he’s struggling to catch it all, cunt pulsing around his thick fingers as you gasp and slam your hands tighter over your mouth. You’re lost, cumming so hard you’re blinded, and when he feels what he’s done, when he sees it, he’s done right with you, ready to have you cumming again and again.

He shocks you by yanking you to the floor, hovering over you now, fingers moving up and down, so much pressure you feel like you’re gonna pee, you’re trying to stop him then, but he’s too far obsessed, shoving your top down. He’s groaning quietly when he sees your perfect breasts, kissing down them, sucking one of your nipples in his hot mouth.

“Caleb, it’s too much,” he’s moving them up and down, hitting that spot in your slick walls over and over, your eyes rolling back, hips raising off the cool wood of the floor he’s thrown you on. “Mnh!”

“Again,” he orders it, putting his own hand over your mouth to muffle your screams as he exhales, feeling your muscles tighten around him again, so strong with the force they try to push him out, your wetness making it slipper. “Again, you can do it can’t you?”

You’re lost, cumming harder, and this time squirting all over Caleb’s hand, he whines out in wonder at it, bending down again, he shoves his fingers in your mouth, you suck them, up and down, the action filthy. He’s spreading your thighs, slurping you up again, hungry and desperate, while you’re tugging at his hair, muffling your moans with gritted teeth.

He’s relentless, he doesn’t stop after the next orgasm, no he’s waited too fucking long for this, for you. He’s drinking every bit like he’ll never get the chance again, until you’re tugging him harder, shaking, twitching. You can’t control your body anymore, it’s a trembling mess under his heavy weight when he finally leans up, easing his fingers out, running them up and down your slit.

His eyes are black, just a purple ring left now, his lips and chin coated and shimmering with you, lips hovering but he doesn’t slam them down, as if to preserve one shred of his sanity. He cups your face carefully, swallowing nervously and studying you in the night, his eyes darting back and forth across your face, as if committing it all to memory.

“Did I help you, honey?” You barely manage a nod, as he tugs you close, burying his face against your neck, your hands grip his waist, slipping up his back, feeling his breaths quicken as your nails press in just a bit. “Do you feel better, does it hurt?”

“I feel so… amazing.” You can’t hold back, kissing his throat, wondering just what the two of you have done. “I’m mad anyone got that.”

“You're so jealous, pips?” He teases, leaning up, shaking his head. “Anything I do with you is special.”

You blink back tears at that, making him frown contemplatively, while two tears slip from the outer corners of your eyes. “You’re special to me.”

“So are you, so special.” He kisses your forehead, sighing. “Come to bed.”

“Okay,” you’re taking his help to stand, he’s careful as he slips up your panties, caring and sweet, like he wasn’t just being filthy, like he still wasn’t coated in your cunt, no like he’s taking care of you. He picks you up, carefully carrying you to the bed, holding you against him.

It’s so beautiful you want to cry.

You can hardly gather what just happened, you can barely process any of your feelings, any of your emotions, while you look up at him in the night. “Sleep,” he’s stroking your hair, sweaty just a bit from the exertions, he can still taste you on his fucking tongue.

“Caleb, don't you want me to make you cum?”

He can’t take it, your sweet little voice, your eyes looking up at him like that. “What’d I say I like to do?”

You’re blushing now. “Please.”

“Yeeep. So shh, lay down, stop wriggling.” You do just that, snuggling up to him and yawning now.

“I don’t want you to go.” Your sleepy words set it all in, just what he’s doing with you, and what it could mean.

“Shh… one airplane, two airplanes,” his voice is a caress as he says the familiar words you remember from when you were younger. Your eyes get heavy, as he trembles internally, imagining the moment he has to let you go, it is foolish to think there can be more, and he’s selfish to have even drank you on that fucking door. “Three airplanes, four airplanes…”

“Mmm,” you snuggle, feeling the soothing touch and hearing his steady heart beat under your palm. His voice echoes, as the orgasms he’d just put you through are wearing you down, but so much is left unspoken. “Five airplanes.”

“You’re counting now?” He laughs, the sound so endearing your heart hurts, you nod and snuggle closer. “Six airplanes, seven airplanes, eight airplanes…”

He keeps going, as the sleep starts to take you, the bliss of the pleasure and all the pent up frustrations being released finally, it’s enough to take you out by plane number thirty. He’s still counting, even as he looks at your beautiful face in the night with the storm subsiding outside.

“You never make it to a hundred,” he kisses your head with a sweet little pop, tenderly running his fingers up and down your back. “I love you.

*****

Today was busy, spending time with Gran, the two of you keeping your distance, the act like you feel like family, when it’s as far from the fucking reality as anything could be anymore. He sneaks looks at you, your collarbone, the way your skirt slips up your thighs, the way your eyes glitter when they catch his. Your sweet, nervous smile, the way your lashes lower.

The two of you put on the act, you always have, why is it so much harder now, because you crossed the line?

You’re pacing your room later, knowing he’s leaving soon, and knowing you need every moment, every part of him. You keep pacing, trying to talk yourself out of it, he didn’t come to your room, you’re going to his again, are you pushing too much on him, being greedy?

You can’t take the thoughts anymore.

Caleb is laying there, eyes shut, remembering every moment so vividly, touching his hard cock under the blankets and crying out quietly, wishing he didn’t feel so fucking guilty, so terrible, this torture- the sin he feels. Carrying these feelings for so fucking long - god he loved you when he first laid eyes on you as a kid.

You trusted him implicitly, but all he can think of is putting babies inside you and locking you the fuck away. The neediness makes him stay away, but he’s hurting, his cock throbbing now. He’s sticky against his boxers, sighing as he tugs at them, when suddenly the door opens again.

“Pipsqueak…” Caleb tenses when you walk in his room, you’re wearing one of his shirts like to end him, and now he knows just how sweet your fucking pussy tastes, he’s pulling his hand off, thankful you couldn’t see..

“Let me make you feel good,” you whisper, shutting his door now, he’s shaking his head as you come to the bed slowly, hips swaying as you walk towards him, making him want to grab them. “Why not Caleb?”

He can’t take it, that’s why.

“Do you know what to do?” You shake your head. “Are these just lessons?”

“Is that what you want to call it?” He laughs without humor, brushing your hair back now. “Is that what we have to call it, to feel better about it?”

It’s silent then, he swallows nervously, not knowing what to answer, not knowing what to say. What about when he left, would you go back to that boy, or get a new one to date? Would they please you, and would you forget this? The panic sets in, when you’re touching his length over his sweats, and he’s biting back a moan, gripping your wrist.

“Do you feel bad? Did you feel bad when I drank you?” His words are devastating in their husky, raw feelings, you blush and lower your head now. “Can’t answer? Do you think anyone else could ever make you cum like that?”

“Caleb…” He’s done then, fury blinding him, squeezing your wrist so hard it’s bruising him.

“Get out before I lose it, before you won’t be a fucking virgin anymore, in any of your holes, huh?” You blink in surprise, lips parted, while he cups your face and exhales, shaking his head. “I can’t handle you near me, touching me.”

“What if I want it all?” He glares at you now, hand squeezing so hard it is making your arm tingle with pins and needles.

“You want me to take it, then leave you?”

“Don’t leave me.”

“Pips…”

“You’re hurting me, Caleb.” He pauses, releasing your wrist now, head resting against yours, breaths heavier. “Why wouldn’t I want you as my first? Even if I’m not yours.”

“How do you know that, how are you so fucking sure I’ve been with anyone?” He’s squeezing your face, looking at the lips he still hasn’t kissed. “You keep acting like I have.”

“How couldn’t you have? You’re so handsome, funny, smart… sexy… you’re everything anyone could want.”

“You think all that?” You blush, nodding.

“You’re the best guy I know, and of course you seem… um, talented at things.” You blush furiously now, looking down.

“You think you’ll be okay if I do that, and that’s it? Just experience?” You nod again, but he doesn’t believe you, not one fucking bit. “That’s special.”

“You’re special to me.”

“Fuck…” He kisses you then, for the first time in either of your lives, the feeling so electric you’re dizzy, he pulls back and his breathing is heavy, his eyes drugged.

He wants to finally say it - he’s in love with you.

But is it just the experience you want, is it just trusting him to show you? He’ll take any fucking piece of you there is, even if it’s physical for you, it’s enough to live off the memories of you. The words start and die in his throat as you kiss him back, tongue nervously filling his mouth, tiny and sweet as it flicks along his, he’s groaning, hands entangled in your hair.

He almost does it, almost fucks you, but he pulls back, saliva dripping between each of your mouths, as your eyes lock. If he fucks you no way he stops, no way he keeps quiet, no way he doesn’t put babies in you. No fucking way you don’t go move with him, stay with him forever - as if once would be enough for him!?

“I’m relocating to another country,” he says then, and the words settle, you sit back, eyes glassy as emotions hit. “I got a huge promotion. I have to take it, too, there’s not an option.”

“Another country!?” He looks away now. “You didn’t even tell me?”

“I’m telling you now,” he glares up at you, brows lowered. “You really wanna do this once and then I am that far away?”

“I… how far…”

“Far enough.” He brushes your hair back, sighing. “I wouldn’t be able to just do it once. When I start? I’ll never stop fucking you.”

“Caleb…” He’s kissing you again, and you’re torn, between desire, love, and now panic that he’ll be gone.

“You’ll be graduated, hmm,” he’s kissing you again, exhaling against your lips, eyes catching yours in the dark as his hand tightens at the nape of your neck. “You’ll forget me.”

“I’ll never forget you, how dare you think it.” You speak between your tears, teeth clenched so hard your jaw hurts, shoving at him then.

“Of course you will, and I’d rather you not forget that too.” You stand then, taking a breath, shaking as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You didn’t tell me before, why?”

“I wanted this last week with you to be happy,” he shakes his head now. “I wanted things to be like they were before, when we were each other’s everything.”

“Things are different, what I want it’s…” You can hardly hold back, knowing he’s leaving is so hurtful, he was away a lot, but another country? When would you ever see him again? “How far?”

“Other side of the world,” his words break you further. “I am sure I can still fly out once a year, but is that what we’ll do? I’ll fuck your perfect cunt once a year,” he stands now, bending low over you. “And wonder who else has been inside it?”

You smack him then, he pauses, brushing his cheek as you glare. “And I’ll wonder who you’re with.”

He laughs again, it’s a dark sound, as he desperately grips your face. “You don’t even know me sometimes, do you?”

“You don’t let me Caleb, you’re always hiding! You’re always lying, omitting truths, never sharing how you feel. I think I’m losing my mind and you’re calm.”

“I’m calm!?”

“Always, infuriatingly.” You turn now, swiping your tears away. “I’m just embarrassed I asked it.”

“That’s not-”

“Good night.” You rush out and shut the door quietly, leaving him to palm the old wooden door, swallowing down his own tears.

Fuck he almost had you, he almost was inside your perfect pussy, the one that lingered on his tongue for the day, the one that he’s been dying to be in since he knew what it fucking was. But he turned you down, pissed you off so bad you smacked him, and held back completely - like he always fucking did.

That kiss was so intense he can’t even imagine what fucking you will be like, he can’t fathom it, and can’t fathom being your experience, being just that and leaving, not knowing who will have you. If he at least doesn’t ever feel it, he can shove it down like he used to, before he started getting pieces of you, the taste and hope of more, when it’s impossible.

You’ll finish your degree, you’ll buy a house and follow your dreams, and he’ll be a country away, constantly on missions, worried about you, and not even being able to look forward to coming home to you. What sort of fucking life was that, be without you or be with you and never fully have you?

His fist clenches as he turns back, yanking at his fucking hair, tortured by the need to run after you and the need to hide.

Is he selfish enough to do everything he wants? 

They're frustrating me again </3

tags- @blitziwitch @mcdepressed290 @hyunjifilm @mentaltrouble2201 @aquarianbeat @tartartagliaboo @trishiepo0 @virtualityhome @slytherin-min99 @plzdonutpercieveme @taebvby @jlynns-posts @coralbae @thejujvtsupost @deathrye @tsumoorin @mynsan @lostfracturess @dummiebunny @ashirelle @ilovesugurugeto69 @ilovechanyeol16 @sylusqt @liluvtojineteyam @lunaryasha @maisiefrancesca @ravenbc @straows @callme-amaya @yandereaficionado @wordsgodeep @bandomonia @ellexamor @sukunasunflower @wooasecret @kithyyy @yizhouge @dreamingoftomorrow @sylvieisoffline @whiteghostt @szafficat @lhhlver @sanzy4 @chaoticbardlady99 @mistress-daddy-nyx @pinksaiyans @webshooterrr9 @mynsan @bluerskiees @keylimepiebby

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yandere caleb x reader — toxic babytrapping <3

Content warning: dubcon, toxic dynamics, babytrapping, possessive/obsessive behavior, power imbalance, degradation/praise mix, breeding kink, and yandere themes, caleb calls you meimei, you call him gege.

Do not continue if you’re uncomfortable with dark content.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Caleb breathes against the shell of your ear, his voice warm, almost syrupy—too soft for the way his hips are pinning you down, grinding slow and deep. “Not when I’ve worked so hard to get you like this… all dumb and messy for me.”

Your nails scratch at the sheets, legs trembling from overstimulation, but he just laughs gently—like he’s proud. Like he planned this.

“Poor little pipsqueak,” he coos, lips brushing your temple as he presses another thrust into your fluttering cunt. “Told you not to run from me, didn’t I? Told you what would happen if you kept acting like you didn’t need me.”

You can’t even speak. You’re too full, too stretched, his cock battering against your cervix like it’s knocking on heaven’s door and dragging you back down to hell in the same stroke.

“Aww, look at you,” he hums, voice sweet as poison. “So fucked-out and perfect. My little angel. Gege’s perfect little meimei.”

His hand cradles your lower belly then—there. Pressing right there.

“Right here, baby,” he whispers, smiling against your cheek. “Gonna make it take. Gonna fill you up and make sure you’re mine forever. You hear me?”

You whimper, try to twist your hips, but his other hand slides under your thigh and hooks it high around his waist, locking you in deeper.

“No more running. No more being difficult.” His breath hitches, and his next thrust is brutal—sharp and punishing—but his voice stays so heartbreakingly soft. “You’re gonna give gege a baby. You want that, don’t you, pips?”

You sob—helpless and shaking—as he presses kisses along your neck, sweet nothings dripping off his tongue like venom.

“I’ll take care of everything. You don’t need to think anymore. Just be mine. Just lay here like this, pretty and full, while I fuck a future into you.”

He’s close now—his rhythm stuttering, a low, desperate growl curling into his chest. And then, with your name on his tongue and madness in his voice, he spills inside you with a moan like worship.

“My meimei. Mine forever.”

Taglist: @dramaticalsachan @sheismaryy @zaynies-wifey @freeprincesslove @litnerdwrites @strawberrydragon24 @eve-rockin-blog @bakugoushotwife @scorpion-squadron @maaic @insidious-innocence @angstyfrog @lucreied

Comment on the taglist post to be added Loves

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Yandere who breaks into your home and just won't leave.

Tw. Stalking, Yandere, nsfw themes, blackmail

You came back one day from work, tired as hell, only to find some strange man sitting on your couch with some boxes scattered around him. You threatened to call the cops, to scream and get him out, but he remained strangely calm if not a little boyishly eager.

"H-heh, I knew you'd be kind of upset. Don't worry, I already paid your rent for the next few months. T-took a bit of time to scrape together, but you're worth it babe."

When you then persisted on throwing him out, he simply took out a folder with shaking hands and showed you a mile wide stack of compromising photos that he'd somehow taken while you were completely unaware.

"Don't worry. I won't release them unless you make me."

So now you lived with your stalker now turned roommate.

It was strange. You couldn't kick him out, so you were forced to tolerate him. At first, you thought you could just wait until he left so you could hastily change the locks, but he just never left. He worked on his computer saying he had a remote job, and all of the groceries were delivered to the door. You didn't even have a chance to try and stop him.

He would creep his way into your bed at night, cook you breakfast, and act like nothing was wrong.

Yandere who likes to take photos of you openly now.

He snaps his camera at you while you brush your teeth or put on shoes. Every angle of you has been painstakingly catalogued and printed out in the albums now scattered on every table. He especially liked having pictures of the two of you together.

"Hehe, I used to have to edit myself in..."

You really didn't like mulling over what that could've possibly meant, so you just chose to gloss over it.

Yandere who likes to bathe and pamper you. It's so domestic that it's almost sickening. He makes homemade soaps to lather your skin in, and he's not half bad at making scrubs either. He learns how to do your hair in every style you like, and if you like getting your nails done, he learns that too. You asked him if it was to help save you money, but his reply was... less than ideal.

"I just don't want anyone else to touch you," He said sheepishly as he stashed the strands of your hair to use for god knows what.

Yandere who doesn't stop you from going out and living your life, but the second you get home, he's all over you. he's like your second skin, and even though you try to push him off, he just keeps nuzzling into your neck and practically humping your leg.

"C'mon! I was so good today... I cleaned and everything! At least kiss me!"

He becomes more and more comfortable in your apartment, and you slowly start to live with it as well. After all, a clean home, good food, rent paid and he pampers you like crazy: It's not exactly the worst deal in the world. Plus, he hasn't actually made any moves on you yet. No, most days he sits there smiling at you with a dopey grin and an obvious, untouched bulge in his sweatpants. He never touches himself around you, so at least he had the decency to not do that.

All in all, he's not the worst thing that could've broken into your home. Sure, it's not what you'd ever have wanted, but your starting to grow fond of this strange intruder. After all, it's hard to not be just a little bit endeared when he's snuggling up close and seeking your warmth like it was the only thing on the planet that mattered.

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Guys please keep me in your thoughts. Nothing happened, I just want you to think about me

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since mc has half sylus’s soul (and he does too) when he says this it hurts so good 😭

he is part of her - he is part of creating who she is today 😭

HE LOVES HER DEARLY

[chimchimsauce]

[chimchimsauce]

౨ৎ‧₊˚ they'll message you after a post talking about how sad and ill you are too?? can they just be normal 🙏

[chimchimsauce]

JIMIN X GREEN cr. jung-koook, moreloveforhobi, 0613data, namuspromised

[chimchimsauce]

Obsessed doesn't begin to cover it

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NSFW

Yandere!Vampire that was once royalty, living in a dilapidated castle, alone and depressed. As a human, he was surrounded by people. Everyone adored him, his golden curls and warm brown eyes charming the hearts of every noble that set eyes on him.

That was until his family was slaughtered by a coven of vampires, leaving him the only survivor. Now with no family, he was turned away from the nobles that once gathered at his side, calling him beautiful and intelligent. Now he was a beast, and was only left alive because no one dared to touch him.

As the years passed by, all that knew of his existence died out, meaning no one remembered or cared for him. In the past, he had at least been grateful he had been in someone’s thoughts, even if it was in a negative light. Now, no one even hated him. He was just nonexistent to the world outside his castle.

Centuries passed by, every day slowly picking at the last bits of his sanity. Days of past grandeur and the current day mixed together, leaving him in a state where he couldn’t tell whether he was back in the living arms of his family, or wandering the dark, crumbling hallways of his childhood home.

It was only when a soft, warm light flooded one of the abandoned rooms he had been standing in that the fog in his brain began to fade, allowing him to see what was in front of him for the first time in decades.

It was you, a young woman in a hoodie and jeans, holding a flashlight. You lived only a mile away, and had been exploring when you came upon ruins of what seemed like an ancient castle.

You had heard rumors of a person that wandered the ruins from the townsfolk, and old tales of vampires that had been passed down by tongue for centuries. Not believing them, you decided to see for yourself…

Your light shone upon what you first thought was an ethereal ghost or some kind of beautiful spirit. A man with a mop of blonde curls, porcelain skin, and the most beautiful pair of ruby red eyes you’ve ever seen stared back at you.

The person attempted to speak, but clutched his throat, as if he hadn’t spoken in so long, his vocal cords had forgotten how.

“H-hello?”

The man perked up at the sound of your voice, his eyes clearing up. It seemed just hearing another human speak made his undead heart leap, and he couldn’t help but stumble towards you.

You yelped when he crossed the room within seconds and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply.

The smell of another person, of sweat and perfume mixing together to make your own unique scent made him want to sob.

Of course you were freaked out, but the man holding onto you wasn’t hurting you, and you could feel warm tears soaking through your shirt. How could you turn away someone that was obviously in distress?

Unsurprisingly, the man followed you home. It didn’t take a genius to realize he wasn’t human. He was as pale as a sheet of paper, with no pulse or any color to his cheeks. His eyes were scarlet, a shade you had never seen a human have before.

Despite knowing this, you couldn’t help but care for him. He was thin, malnourished, with clothing that was so old and dirty that it nearly crumbled when he took them off.

“Are you hungry?”

You had taken to asking only yes or no questions, since he couldn’t speak. The man frowned, his eyes getting foggy for a second. You decided to ask again.

“Hello? Are you-“

He suddenly snapped back into reality, leaning forward to gently place his lips on your neck. You squeaked out in surprise when you felt his teeth sink into your neck… but it didn’t hurt. Instead, you only felt an uncomfortable pressure and draining sensation, and before long he was pulling back.

“Mmph…” he panted softly, blood running down his chin. “Was… so… thirsty…” he managed to say, his voice hoarse and small.

He cupped your cheek, holding your face in his hands and looking down at you with what could only be described as utter adoration.

“My love…”

From that point on, he was attached to your hip, following you everywhere you went like a lovesick puppy. Any time you were separated, he had severe anxiety, going back and forth from his dreamworld and reality. It was his coping mechanism, but it caused him to never understand what was real and what wasn’t.

You grounded him, made him feel safe and loved. Oh how he adored you. You had saved him from his lonely existence and taken him into your home as if he were a stray dog, and he was loyal like one. His loyalty came at a price, however, and that price was your freedom to do as you pleased.

Late nights out with friends became next to nonexistent, especially if he knew there would be any males there.

“I just want to protect you, my beloved. It’s a dangerous, cruel world. People will act as if they love you when they do not…”

And as you slowly became more and more isolated, his affections only grew. Kisses to your hand began to trail up your arm and to your neck. Snuggles turned into grinding and heavy petting, and even the most innocent of caresses became lewd in nature.

It didn’t take long for him to fuck you for the first time. After all, he had been pent up and alone for centuries, resisting taking you on the spot was excruciating.

The second he sunk into your pussy, he came. You were just so warm and your scent made his head fuzzy. He couldn’t help but fuck into you like a wild animal, feeding from your pretty neck as he filled you up over and over.

After the first time, a day didn’t pass by when he didn’t crave your intimate touch. Some days he was satisfied with heavy petting and kisses, others he couldn’t be satiated until his face was between your legs, lapping at your cunt for hours.

You were his, his mate, his lover. He couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore, so could you really blame him when he clung to you so tightly?

He just loved you, and he did such a good job at keeping you satisfied, just enough to where you didn’t look into the missing cases of your old lovers and male friends.

Why would you need to pay attention to any of that when your loving, attentive boyfriend was right there, ready to worship you from head to toe?

[chimchimsauce]

Yandere Yakuza

When your brother gets himself deep into debt, one yakuza is surprisingly willing to help you get him out. Word Count: 4.3k

When your brother asks you to visit him in Tokyo, something about his voice makes your big sister instincts buzz.

He's great at putting on a show, but there's a twinge of nervousness to him that you've seldom heard before.

You spend your first week in the city with your hackles raised, trying and failing to figure out what he's hiding from you. And you might never have figured it out.

But then he showed up.

Yandere! Yakuza who kicks open your brother's door at three in the morning, a cigarette in one hand and a baseball bat in the other.

You scramble out of bed, convinced you're about to be murdered. And it's only your brother's hand hastily slapped over your mouth that keeps you from screaming bloody murder.

"Relax, I know these guys."

Despite his words, your brother doesn't look relaxed at all. His eyes dart around the room and he balls his fists into his jeans. It's a habit he hasn't broken since childhood and before you know it, you're stepping between him and a dangerously scarred yakuza.

Your Japanese is beyond rudimentary and your course didn't exactly cover how to have conversations with members of an organised crime family, but you tilt your chin back and try to keep your voice steady.

"Naze anata ga koko ni iru no ka? [why are you here?]"

Yandere! Yakuza who shamelessly leers at your tiny summer pyjamas. He pulls at his cigarette and when he speaks, his English is heavy with an accent.

"Came to collect what he owes us."

Of all the possible answers he could have given you, that was one you don't expect in the slightest. You turn to your brother and the way he avoids your eyes is answer enough. God, how could he be so stupid? Didn't you teach him better?

Yandere! Yakuza who came prepared to smash furniture and rough up a stubborn debtor suddenly finds himself at the mercy of your glare. You're at least a foot or two shorter than him and somehow it feels like he's the one being overpowered.

"How much does he owe?"

"Sis really I can-"

Yandere! Yakuza who scoffs and names a number much, much larger than you expected. It takes every ounce of will power not to scream at your brother right then and there. How could he get himself into such a mess? He's barely been here more than six months!

Yandere! Yakuza who watches the emotions flicker across your face and has to admire the way you fight them back. The only sign of your fear is a slight tremble in your hand.

"How much do you need tonight?"

The amount he names is just about everything you have in savings. You bite your lip. One look at him tells you everything you need to know. This isn't some small time crook. The pin on his suit jacket is clear as day, even to a foreigner like you.

You pull your coat over your pyjamas and grab your handbag.

"Let's go then."

When you step out into the hall, you're met with two other Yakuza. How didn't you notice them?

You meet their eyes, trying your absolute hardest to seem unruffled. Predators get violent when they sense fear, right? So don't like them catch that smell on you, no matter how fast your heart is racing.

The night air nips at your skin as you head to the nearest ATM.

"Sis it isn't that bad, I swear -"

"We'll talk about it later, ok?"

Yandere! Yakuza who walks close behind you. You can catch the smell of his cologne - something woody and pleasantly sharp.

When you slip your card into the ATM, he leans against the wall next to you and pulls out another cigarette. He watches you while he lights it, the flame throwing his cheekbones into sharp relief.

"You got a boyfriend?"

You're genuinely surprised. Your relationship status isn't exactly on your list of things dangerous criminals should be concerned about.

"No. I don't."

He let's the smoke curl up between his teeth.

"Good. Pretty girl like you shouldn't bother with relationships."

"Why not?"

The ATM spits out your cash before he can answer.

He doesn't take the money immediately. Instead, he let's his eyes roam down your body, like he can still see what's underneath your bulky coat.

"You're never gonna pay it off at this rate."

"You're offering me advice? Didn't think that was part of your job."

"Sōde wa arimasen [it isn't]. But what kind of man would I be if I didn't help you out?"

He digs in his inner pocket and you catch a glimpse of the gun holstered under his jacket.

He pulls out a business card and scribbles something at the back of it.

"He hasn't told you, but we've got his passport. He can't leave until he's settled what he owes."

You suck in a sharp breath at that. How much worse could this situation get?

He holds out the card. "Come work for us and maybe we can work out a better deal, yeah?"

You scoff. "Does that deal involve selling my organs?"

He smiles a little at that. "Īe - no. It's easy work. Come by tomorrow and see for yourself."

You look down at the card and the hand offering it. His tattoos peak out of his sleeve, blue-black and twisting in patterns you can't recognise. Better to not offend a gangster, right?

You take the card.

"Iiko [good girl]."

He turns to go, his baseball bat slung over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow hanī [honey]."

He's barely out of sight before you're grabbing your brother's ear and dragging him back to the apartment.

You spend the rest of the night talking to - or more accurately, interrogating - your brother.

"Gambling? What the hell where you thinking?"

"I was drunk, okay?"

You hiss and rub at your temples. And the worst part? The yakuza was right. You can't pay it off. Not without a very well paying job.

His card glares at you from the kitchen table. An easy job, huh?

The address on the card leads you to a hostess club in the middle of the Red Light District.

He isn't going to kidnap you in the middle of the day in the middle of the city, right? Slightly comforted, you make your way into the club.

It's cool and dark, lit by colorful lamps more than anything. You show the card to the bartender and a few minutes later your yakuza is sitting across from you and ordering you both drinks.

Yandere! Yakuza who wears a suit in the slouched, lazy way of a school delinquent. Shirt unbuttoned so you can see the edge his tattoos and the gold chain gleaming at his neck.

He gestures at the bar and the room around you, his cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. "The Family owns this place. And my kyodai manages it."

He studies you while he smokes, eyes dipping to your chest and lingering. "You can work as a hostess here. Make good money and we'll take a cut of it to pay off what your brother owes."

You take a sip of your drink to avoid answering him. The sake leaves a tingle on your lips.

"But I'm not exactly fluent in Japanese. How am I supposed to entertain customers?"

He grins wolfishly at you. "Just wear something tight and you won't have to talk at all."

"Perv," you mutter into your drink.

On the surface, you can't see anything wrong with his offer. It makes perfect sense - the club gets a new girl they barely have to pay and your brother's creditors don't need to keep tracking him down.

But he's a yakuza and you'd be a fool to trust him.

"Fine. I'll work here, try my hardest to learn Japanese and sell drinks."

You hold his gaze. "But I'm gone the second I think you're being shady. Got it?"

Yandere! Yakuza who smiles like he's won the lottery. "Wakatta [got it]."

When you show up later that evening, he's your first customer. He orders you a bottle of champagne and keeps topping up your glass without ever touching his own.

A few drinks in you manage to finally loosen up enough to hold a conversation. He asks you endless questions - about your childhood, your hobbies, the movies you've been watching.

But in return, he dodges any question you throw at him. "Don't ask about my family." "My childhood was boring. You don't want to hear about it." "Hobbies? Does puss-"

"No."

"Then no."

He's surprisingly fun to talk to. And when he gets a call and has to leave you, there's a pang of disappointment that you can't quite mask.

He grins and flicks your forehead. "Don't miss me too much."

When you pick up the bill, you realise he left you a hefty tip. You stare at it and then at his retreating back. Just what is his angle?

Yandere! Yakuza who's back the next day and the one after that. He sprawls in the booth like a spoiled prince, his arms thrown across the headrest and his legs spread.

"Let me teach you Japanese."

You perk up. A native teacher would be so much easier to learn from compared to the dense textbooks you've tried using.

"Repeat after me. Onegaishimasu. It means 'please'."

You try and imitate his intonation. He walks you through a few more common phrases with moderate success.

"Need to work on your accent, but that was decent. Ready to try something longer? Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne [I think you're very handsome]."

"Anato wa...wa totemo hansam... hansamudesu ne."

He smirks at you over the rim of his glass. He seems immensely pleased.

"What does it mean?"

"Just another way to... greet someone. Kinda tricky though, so you should just use it on me."

He spends the rest of the day explaining kanji and grammar. You take notes on the back of a receipt and promise to rewrite them when you get home.

Your shift is practically over when he finally stands to leave.

"Say goodbye like I taught you."

"Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne."

He grins at you again, his voice a bit sweeter when he replies. "Anata mo totemo kireidesu ne [you're pretty too]."

You tilt your head, struggling to understand. You don't recognise the phrase, but he's gone before you can ask what it means.

Yandere! Yakuza who requests you almost everyday. Until the house mother snaps at him to give it a rest, there are other clients who want to talk to you.

He scoffs and throws back his drink, Adam's apple bobbing like he's swallowing down his anger too.

"If they want to talk to her so bad, they should get here earlier. Watashitachiha kono basho o shoyū shite imasu [we own this place]. So go and get me my girl."

When you finally make it to his table, he's back to being all smiles. The only person who notices his jealousy is the house mother and she's far too busy to mention it.

"My head is killing me. Give me a massage please?"

He flops down into your lap before you can say no.

You sigh and run your fingers through his hair, trying to remember where the pressure points are.

Yandere! Yakuza who practically purrs at your touch. When you lift a hand away to take a sip of your water, he barely waits for you to swallow before he's dragging it back.

There's something very strange about having a deadly gangster in your lap. With his eyes closed, you can almost forget just how much he scared you when you first met. Can forget how he still scares you.

He opens his eyes and catches you studying him. He reaches up and catches your hand as you draw away from him. His touch is gentle, softer than you would expect from looking at him.

"Go on a date with me."

You aren't sure if it's an offer or a command. There's something so intimate about the way he looks at you, the club lights carving hollows into his cheeks, eyes dark and sweet.

And God help you, he's so close. Only the thin fabric of your stockings between his skin and yours.

"Okay."

His lips quirk into a half smile, boyishly handsome.

"Good. You'll like it."

By the next evening, you're already regretting your decision. What kind of idiot goes on a date with a yakuza? You blame the alcohol and the closeness of his body and your stupid, stupid hormones for getting you into this.

But when he picks you up, you find yourself smiling. He actually knocks on the apartment door this time and you open it with the full intention of teasing him.

"My brother's landlord-"

Your words die in your throat. You always knew he was handsome but the man waiting for you takes your breath away.

His hair is slicked away from his face and a sparkling cross dangles from one ear. His lazy suits are gone, replaced with a suit that's pressed and tailored. Hell, even his shirt is buttoned up properly.

He looks good. Dangerously good.

He takes you in, eyes lingering at your curves. You swallow and try not to blush. You do your hair and makeup everyday for the club and he's seen you in this dress before, but he looks at you like it's all new to him, like he wants to drink in every inch of you.

You somehow manage to find your voice and it has none of its usual bite. "You look good. Really good."

He smoothes a hand over his hair self consciously. "Arigatō. Shall we go?"

He offers you his arm and you take it, your heart thundering. He opens the car door for you and helps you in like a proper gentleman. You catch a whiff of his cologne - the same woodsy scent from the night you met.

He takes you to a skyscraper restaurant and sits down right next to the window. The city is a sparkling sprawl at your feet.

"I didn't think you'd be into a place like this," you say.

"What? You think I don't got class?" He grins and points his fork at you, "I've got the best damn taste in this whole city."

"Explains why you asked me out then."

"Obviously." He leans forward. "Only the best for my girl, yeah?"

"I'm your girl? Since when?"

"Since..." He makes a show of checking his watch. "Since the night I met you. You just didn't know it yet."

Ah, now that's one way to make a girl fall for you. And despite your better sense, you feel yourself falling.

You can still taste the lingering sweetness of dessert when he walks you back to his car. His leans against the car door and loops his arms around your waist.

"You had fun tonight?"

"Yes. More than I expected honestly."

He pulls you closer to him, softly enough that you can step back at any point. You don't.

"Gonna give me a kiss to say thank you? It's a very important part of our culture."

You clasp your hands together behind his neck.

"You liar."

He grins that boyish half smile of his. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

He doesn't feel like a gangster or a creditor or a customer. In that moment he feels like just a man - someone strong and handsome that you desperately want to kiss.

Your gaze flickers down to his lips and then back to his eyes. You pull gently at his neck and his head dips lower. You stay like that for a moment, lips almost touching. Too nervous to make the final move.

His hands move to cradle your waist and he closes the gap between you.

You pull him closer, your hands slipping from his neck to his jaw. His stubble scrapes your palm and makes your whole body tingle. He tastes of wine and sugar.

When you finally pull away, you draw your thumb across his lower lip. His eyes are half lidded and when he moves, it's with a sluggish reluctance. Like he doesn't want to let go of you.

He keeps one hand on your waist and draws out a stack of cash with the other. When he speaks, his voice is husky.

"How much for tonight?"

"What?"

His draws his hand up your waist to rest against your sternum. Like he wants to dig his hand into your heart.

"How much to take you home?"

A bucket of cold water would have been less shocking. You pull away from him, your mind racing.

God, why are you such an idiot? Of course he only wants to fuck you. He's just a thug, what did you expect?

And worse, you feel like a small part of your heart is breaking. Why be so sweet to you, why go out of his way to spend time with you, if all he wants is a one night stand?

"Are you serious?"

"Obviously. How much do you charge?"

You act without thinking and slap him right across his face.

The sound of it is terribly sharp in the open quite of the parking lot. It leaves your palm stinging. You freeze, terrified of what you've just done.

He doesn't move, his head turned to the side from the force of your slap. Slowly, he touches his fingers to his cheek. His expression is unreadable.

Oh, you're so dead. You just hit a yakuza. A guy who probably breaks faces everyday, who has who knows how many felonies to his name.

Your first instinct is to apologise, say you weren't thinking and that you're so so sorry. You lift your chin and squash down that part of you.

"I'm not for sale."

The quiet stretches out, tense and dangerous. He turns away and opens the car door for you. He doesn't meet your eyes.

"I understand now. Gomen'nasai [I'm sorry]."

The drive home is terribly quiet. You keep expecting him to lash out - hit you or humiliate you for daring to slap him like that.

He doesn't. He just keeps eyes on the road.

When you reach your building, he follows you to the door and rests his hand on the frame above your head. You can feel him behind you, close enough for his breath to tickle the back of your neck.

"I can't buy you."

"No."

"But I want you."

You pull in a shuddering breath. "Earn it."

You shut the door without turning back.

He doesn't show up at the club for the next week. At first you're on edge - what if he gets you fired? Or worse, does something to your brother?

But your boss doesn't mention anything and your brother keeps coming home in one piece. Slowly, you relax. Tell yourself that he's done with you now that you won't give him what he wants. You try and ignore the way it hurts.

When he does finally show up, he's dangerously tipsy. He yanks you out of your booth in the middle of a date and leaves the house mother to bow and apologise to the customer.

You try not to make a scene as he pulls you along behind him. But you look about desperately for any of the other yakuza. Where the hell are they when you need them?

Finally, he drops you in a booth in the corner of the club and collapses across from you. His hair is messier than you've ever seen it and there's a feverish wildness in the way he looks at you.

"Fine. I'm here. Let me earn your love."

You rub your arm and scowl at him. "Your idea of winning me over is to leave a huge bruise on my arm?"

He runs his hands through his hair. "Hell, I don't know. I've never had to win a girl over before."

"Yeah right. I've seen the girls you go out with. There's no shortage of women in your life."

He looks you in the eye. "Bought and paid for." He gestures at the table and at you. "Not like this. Not like you."

That gives you pause. It makes sense. Gangsters don't exactly have the time to go on Sunday morning brunch dates or meet the family.

"So why not just pay someone else?"

You don't say it out loud but the rest of your question is clear. Why me?

"I...I don't want to. Setsumei suru no wa totemo muzukashīdesu [It's so hard to explain]. But I don't want anyone else."

A confession from a yakuza was not at all on your list on fun and lighthearted tourist activities. You're not entirely sure how to deal with it.

Your sense is screaming at you to be smart. And when is dating a criminal ever smart? You're supposed to get yourself and your brother away from the underworld, not get roped deeper in. And what happens if you want to break up? When has a man with a gun and too many scars ever taken a heartbreak well?

And yet...

You want him. Stupidly, against all sense, you want to be with him. He's dangerous. He probably only wants to fuck you. He has too much power over your life. He might never let you leave him.

And still you want him.

You take a deep breath. "Come over tonight and I'll cook you something. And if my cooking doesn't change your mind then... then we can talk about it."

He smiles at you and the wild look in his eye seems to finally dim.

"Anata ga watashi o oidasou to shite mo dekinakatta [Baby, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried]."

You weren't lying when you said you were a terrible cook. When he finally arrives, the rice is somehow both burnt and slightly undercooked and your curry is severely under-salted.

You scrunch your nose when you take a bite. "This is awful."

"You cooked it." He takes another bite. "And I hate to say it, but I've had worse."

You push your bowl away and mutter, "I didn't think rice could be so complicated. I followed the instructions and everything."

He takes another bite. "I can make decent rice. And udon."

"So between the two of us, there's only one good cook? Shameful."

He adds some salt to his bowl. "Neither of us ever has the time to cook anyway, so I don't know why you're surprised."

You shake your head and watch him. He's halfway through your abysmal culinary concoction and somehow not green in the face.

"You never talk about yourself," you tell him.

He avoids your eyes. "I'm not that interesting."

"But I am?"

"Yes." There's a quiet fierceness to his answer that makes your heart stutter.

"Tell me a secret about yourself."

It's his turn to study you. "A secret."

"That's what I said."

He considers you for a long moment before reaching up and undoing his shirt buttons. He turns his back to you and let's his shirt fall away.

You gasp. His tattoo covers his entire back. It's every bit as intricate as you suspected - there's lotus flowers between his shoulder blades and a spider inked below his ribcage.

But it's the snake that takes up most of the space. It curls and unwinds across his back, every scale painstakingly inked. It's hissing mouth rests on his shoulder blade, opposite his heart.

He flinches when you touch him, but doesn't ask you to stop. You run your fingertips up his back, tracing the snakes coiling body.

"It's incredible."

He doesn't answer you. Eventually your fingers come to rest on his neck.

He reaches back and takes hold of your wrist. He draws it forward and tilts his head to press a kiss against your pulse. You wonder if he can feel the way your heart jumps when he touches you.

"Do you want to know the real secret? I go home at night and lie awake thinking about you."

You lean forward and rest your forehead against his bare back. "What do you think about?"

He inhales sharply. "Your voice... your lips... your body."

You laugh a little and your warm breath on his skin makes him shiver. "You're shameless."

"Mattaku hajishirazuna [totally shameless]."

You tilt his head towards you and kiss his cheek.

You can feel him smile against your lips. When you pull away, he turns to you and cups your jaw.

Your Japanese has gotten better, but you don't understand what he whispers before he kisses you.

"Watashi Kazu anata ni koiwoshiteiru, soshite watashi wa tomaranai [I'm falling in love with you and I can't stop]."

He presses his lips against yours, so much hungrier this time. His hand slips from your cheek to the nape of your neck to pull you closer to him.

"My girl, my pretty girl. Hanaretakute mo hanare rarenakatta [I couldn't let you go even if I wanted to]."

He presses hot kisses against your throat. His grip on your neck almost painfully tight.

"Hitsuyōniōjite, anata no kyōdai ni wa nan-nen mo shakkin o showa seru koto ni narudeshou [gonna keep your brother in debt for years if I have to]."

The rest of his sentence is little more than a growl. "Nanrakano hōhō de anata ni watashi o aishite morau tsumoridesu [gonna make you love me back one way or another]."

The one downside of courting a yakuza is not understanding everything he says. But maybe it's safer that way.

[chimchimsauce]

Yandere knight who wants you instead of the princess.

Dead dove Do not Eat Tw. For noncon, MDNI, Fem pov

Yandere knight who has been training in the palace for a very long time. It's an honor for a commoner like him to even set foot into the castle walls, so he works earnestly.

Yandere knight who's been catching glimpses of not only the lovely princess throughout the years, but her handmaidens as well. You're a daughter of a somewhat lesser noble house, and therefore you have essentially been given to the royal family until you're eventually married off to another courtier.

But of all the noble ladies, who often ignore him, he finds you to be the most approachable and kind to him and the other squires. He's developed a bit of a crush on you over the years, and he eventually found it in himself to express his feelings. They were innocent and pure then, and he stood there blushing and awkward waiting for you to accept or deny. He would've taken a no from you. Really, he would have.

But then that pompous bitch got in the way.

The princess had you pulled away by her other attendants before you could answer, and she all but sneered at him.

"My maids are not for common rife like you to sully," she spat, a look of disdain carved on her delicate features.

Yandere knight who was deployed to the battlefront soon after. He spent years in misery knowing it was that royal woman's meddling that had both sent him here and stopped him from knowing how you truly felt.

Yandere knight who carved through foe upon foe with the flash of his sword while thinking of you. He would wipe blood from his face and wonder what it would take to have you. He resolves to become so renowned that he could have you and the respect he deserved all those years ago anyways.

Yandere knight who comes back as the hero of the nation. A parade is thrown for him upon his return, and flowers are thrown at his feet by the masses of people. He is awarded a noble title, a duke (impressive), a territory of land to manage, and the blessing to have the hand of any eligible lady in the land from the king.

The implication was for him to go for the princess, sitting there in a gown befitting of an engagement party. She wasn't the heir to the throne, and having a young, impressionable Duke to have and father a potential crown prince or princess was certainly a draw for her to act so sweet and lovely despite her previous attitudes. He had to use all the will in his body to hide his disdainful glare towards her. Instead, he strode up with a near giddy grin, breezed past the waiting royal, and knelt before you.

"[Name], I shall have you as my wife," He says with a beaming smile. You try to protest, but he's already sweeping you into his arms. The king seems surprised by his choice, but as he stares between Yandere Knight, lovestruck and beaming, and you, squirming and utterly shocked, he realizes that he cannot simply go back on his word. The king waves his hand, and your fate is sealed.

Yandere knight feels bad for not giving you a proper wedding. In fact, he feels bad about not taking you to your new home before he's pulling up your skirts. He's a dog, he knows, but you're just so tempting now that you're all his. He shoving you down onto the plush upholstery of the carriage seats, and you let out a startled cry.

Yandere knight who cannot claim he's chivalrous. He wishes he could, but he loves the way your breasts look pushed up so tightly in the laced bodice of yours. He lets out a groan, petting your hair and shushing you as you whimper under his wandering touch. Button after button becomes undone.

"Love, you'll never wear such stifling clothing again. You hear me? All robes and lace from now on. None of this nonsense," He murmurs into your skin. He pulled your corset and chemise from your body, and he pressed fervent kisses to the crook of your neck. He grasps at your breasts, kneading them experimentally. He's had time to experience women on the battlefield. A fling or two in some field on the outskirts of a freshly liberated village. He would think of you the whole time and imagine what he was latching his lips around the stiff peak of your nipple while a random girl cried out underneath him. But this was real. Your warmth beneath his much heavier form was on of the most beautiful feeling he had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.

He parted your legs, and he could feel you shy away from him. He laughed. As if you had a choice. He knew you would love him eventually, but for now you can't blame him for how ravenous he was as he felt between your shaking, parted legs. He smirked as his lips met yours. His fingers slid against your folds, gathering slick arousal on his digits with a curious hum. He grinds his thumb against your clit as he slowly pushes his way into your warm, spongy walls.

"Oh? Is it good there? Or here? Where, love? You gotta use your words," He teases and licks the tears rolling down your cheeks, peppering your soft skin with kisses. He feels you pulse and stretch around his hand, and he relishes the way your back arches when he curls his fingers just right against that sweet little spot. Desperate noises tumble out of you, and he smiles.

He pulls his fingers out, and you cry out at the sudden sensation. Your chest is heaving with small moans, and your pretty pussy is drooling onto the carriage cushions. He pushes your legs up to your chest for a better grip, and his shudders at the way your twitching feels against the head of his cock.

Yandere knight knows that, as he thrusts into you, he's going to enjoy the luxury of finally having you both under his body and under his control.

[chimchimsauce]

Delusional Yandere Elf

Quick colored sketch to show his colors

[chimchimsauce]

Art date