#apple's writing

[apple-orchards-writings]

insisting to naga kylar that two dicks can't fit inside of you !!! he gets all pouty :( (is there a language barrier between the two of you?? maybe your fear gets misinterpreted as excitement !!)

TW: chasing, yandere tendencies, noncon to dubcon, aphrodisiac, oral sex, choking, oviposition, unprotected sex, minimal lubrication, he's kind of an asshole but he doesn't mean to, tried to keep the reader gender neutral

You are desperate to make him understand you, you really didn't mean to disturb him in whatever he was doing, honest ! Unfortunately for you, it's the beginning of summer and mating season has just begun. The naga in front of you is flushed, his slit opening up, revealing the tips of his ovipositors. In a show of determination and inflexible principles, your eyes try to stay fixed on his upper half, but it is quite hard when the naga himself refuses to stop chasing you through the jungle's undergrowth and is constantly blocking your way.

He's making cooing and trilling noises at you, all in different frequencies, hoping to get you to come out, for what purpose you do not know, but you're not keen on finding out. You remain convinced of your ability to lose him, taking turns and paths that would be harder for him to navigate without legs. When you can't hear him so close anymore, you decide to jump into the first cave you see, hoping to shake him off your trail.

The cave is dark and cold, a respite from the outside's heat. You sit down and curl up next to a big enough rock formation, reasoning it could serve as a secondary hiding space, just in case. You try to pull out what remains of your phone, and appraise the actual damage. The screen is almost fully shattered, and it won't turn on no matter what you press. When the naga crushed it in his hands, he definitely cut you off from the rest of the world.

As you quietly curse to yourself, cutting yourself on the broken glass that was once your touchscreen, you hear a slither coming from the cave entrance. Suddenly it occurs to you that you did not check for a second way out, so for all you know, you are blocked off in the cave, with the naga as your captor. You could make a run for it, but you'd need to be clever for it to work. In a pinch, you decide to throw your phone to the back of the cave, hoping the noise will distract the naga enough for you to attempt an escape.

As soon as he hears the noise of the busted technology hitting the ground, the naga slithers at top speed towards the back of the cave, and you take that as your chance to make a break for it, speeding towards the now unobstructed entrance without looking back. You dash towards the daylight, and are about to step out onto the sunny grass, when an arm wraps itself around your middle, and you are forcefully yanked back into the darkness.

You squirm and kick, struggling to get him to move even the slightest inch. Throughout all your efforts, the naga has been shushing and making kissy noises at you, the same noises you would make at a shy cat. As he's bringing you to the far reaching part of the cave, you realise this is in fact his personal den, and he was leading you towards it all along, playing with you. He's been gripping you close to his chest, and you can feel your practically ruined clothes getting wet from the slick almost pouring out of his slit.

You crane your neck to look at his face, and his eyes are incredibly dilated, he's sweating all over, and his smile has widened, exposing his razor sharp fangs. He notices you looking at him, and the position you're in, and seemingly takes it as a sign to bury said fangs in your neck, injecting you with some sort of fluid. You don't get a chance to ask yourself what exactly he drugged you with, as you immediately start feeling very hot in your nether regions. Fuck, it's an aphrodisiac, that's what he bit you with. A powerful one at that, seeing as how you can no longer count on your limbs to support you or push away your eager suitor.

He gently lays you on a soft moss bed, before quickly ripping off the remains of your clothes, caressing your body at the same time, making sure he hasn't nicked or scratched you with his claws. The naga is appraising your body, shivering in anticipation, when you weakly raise your hands up and point at his face.

"Wait wait, I don't even know your name, if you even have one..."

He stops in his tracks, before pointing towards himself. You nod, and he takes on a focused look before attempting to voice something out. It looks like it's taking its toll on him, but he manages to mumble something.

"...Kylar?", you surmise. The naga, now Kylar, nods enthusiastically and, without wasting anytime, goes back to worshiping your body with his mouth, one hand opening up his slit and getting his ovipositors slick enough. You're still too weak and tired to argue, and really, why resist when you have no choice ? At least he doesn't seem like he wants to hurt you, and he's kind of cute in his own way...

You're brought out of your thoughts when Kylar starts licking at your tight hole, inserting his long serpentine tongue. It's so much more different to a human's, he reaches different spots that are otherwise more ignored, which makes you arch your back in his grip. His hands are bruising your hips, claws are leaving marks, but you can't even feel it, and you bet he doesn't notice either, or doesn't care, he's lost in a trance, a need to pleasure you.

When he deigns you sufficiently lubricated and loosened up, he comes back up to face you, face covered in saliva and slick. His lips meet yours as his hands grasp your legs, pulling them up to your chest. His ovipositors are circling your hole now, and your eyes widen.

"Wait Kylar, that won't fit, there's no way !" You protest. He looks at you and lets out what sounds like a laugh, as if you were just joking. "Kylar, you'll tear me in half, you can't put two!" With furrowed eyebrows and a pout, Kylar brings a hand to your face and shoves two fingers in your mouth, before he gives you a sweet smile and thrusts his two ovipositors fully in you in one swift and brutal movement.

Even muffled by his fingers, the shriek you let out is deafening. Thankfully, Kylar is extending small mercies to you and waits for you to adjust a bit before setting a savage pace, not giving you time to breathe or stutter more than a few moans. This is not slow or sensual, this isn't making love, this is rough, feral, this is mating to him.

The end of his tail wraps around your neck, applying some light pressure in time with his thrusts. His ovipositors are thick, with a rounded base you can certainly feel, and they stretch you out immensely. They drag against your walls, hitting each and every sensitive spot without relenting, and your mind starts going blank, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

You can hear Kylar letting out hisses and trills of pleasure, but among the snaky noises, there slips some sounds you could recognize if your brain wasn't wiped clean by his rough pace. "Mine... Mine... Mate..." he stammers in between thrusts, with the slightest stumble over the n's and t's. Of course, you're too busy being fucked out of your mind to really notice.

After a few more pushes, his movements suddenly stop, and before you can ask yourself why, you feel something pop to the base of his ovipositors and your face goes white. Right, it's mating season, which means, eggs, he's going to be laying his eggs in you. You're panicking internally, but there's nothing you can do with how tight he's holding you. The round objects are scraping through your halls, no doubt to make the process enjoyable, and you can feel every single egg drop in you.

No matter how long incubation will take, you can be certain Kylar will not let you leave now that you have his children. He demonstrates this by giving you another bite on the collarbone, this one turning a nice shade of purple, and snuggling into your neck, without ever letting go of his bruising grip on you. He won't release you anytime soon, and it's to that thought that you finally succumb to the reaches of sleep.

[asiatic-apple]

What the birthday boy wants...

aka, marathon sex

Caleb x female reader

You’ve spent weeks planning for this day. The bakery order. The string lights. The playlist tailored to every one of Caleb’s favorite songs. A whole night built around making him feel as loved, celebrated, and special as he always makes you feel.

But when your boyfriend steps through the door, none of it matters anymore.

He drops his bag, eyes locking on you like you’re the only thing in the world worth seeing. He barely spares a second glance at the birthday banner above the kitchen. Doesn’t notice the cake, frosted to perfection and waiting on the counter. Not even the presents lined up in a neat little row by the sofa.

All he can focus on is you. Standing there in that dress he’s obsessed with—the one he bought for you and said made you look “dangerous.”

“Happy birthday,” you say, soft and nervous while fidgeting with the black ribbon on the strap of your dress.

He doesn’t answer. You blink and he’s surging toward you like gravity has shifted and his body has no choice but to fall into yours.

Caleb kisses you like he’s starving.

No gentle greeting, no birthday speech about how lucky he is (he’s definitely thinking it, though). Just his mouth crashing into yours, hands gripping your soft waist like he needs to anchor himself while he loses control.

You stumble back blindly, barely registering that he’s walking you toward the wall until your spine hits plaster and his hands are already sliding beneath your dress.

“I’m sorry,” he whines, leaving sloppy kisses along your jaw, your throat, then the top of your cleavage. “I know you planned so much. I saw it. And I swear I love it all. But I can’t—I can’t do any of it right now.”

Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling his head back just enough to see his eyes. His pupils are so dark and dilated that you barely see the rings of vibrant violet around them. Yet through his desire, he manages a needy pout—begging for forgiveness even as he looks ready to fuck you into the wall.

“Caleb, you don’t have to apologize.” Chuckling softly, you brush your fingers through the hair along the nape of his neck. “If this is what you want, then I can’t deny the birthday boy.”

That’s all the permission he needs before he’s back on you again.

“All I’ve thought about today is you,” he groans. “Knew you’d be waitin’ for me, all dolled up. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

It’s clear he’s getting more and more riled up as his hands wander your body. You love when he gets like this, all slurred words from being drunk on the sight and feel of you. He hasn’t even gotten your dress off yet, but he’s already a mess.

“I don’t want dinner,” he murmurs, fingers trailing up to tickle the band of your panties. “Don’t want cake. Just want you.” His declaration makes you whimper, thighs already pressing together at the sound of his voice—how low it drops, how hungry it sounds. “Please, baby. Wanna taste you. I need it.”

One shaky nod from you is all it takes and then he drops to his knees, eyes locked on yours as he tugs your panties down your legs.

“I’ll make it up to you for ruinin’ your plans,” he says. “Gonna lick this sweet pussy ‘til the candles on that cake melt.”

You barely manage a breath before his mouth is on you.

There’s no buildup, no teasing. He’s too impatient to take his time—and he already has plans to fuck your cunt with his tongue all night long anyway, so he doesn’t need to savor this.

He devours you, tongue parting your folds, hot and wet and focused as he sucks on your clit like he’s trying to get drunk off the taste of you. His large hands envelop your thighs, keeping you still as you shake against the wall.

It’s barely been two minutes of his lips on you and it already feels like you’re close to coming. The way his head is buried beneath the frilly skirt of your dress, his fingers digging into your plush skin—it’s so filthy that it makes the pressure build in the pit of your stomach. 

His tongue keeps flicking your clit with a single-minded focus on making you come as hard and fast as humanly possible. The devastating rhythm has you gushing all over his lips while you cry his name. If you could see him right now, you’d catch the sinful sight of your juices mixed with his spit as it trails down his chin and neck.

“Fuck,” you gasp, hips stuttering forward. “Caleb, you’re gonna make me–”

“Do it,” he growls against your pussy. His words are muffled while he’s unwilling to part from your flesh for even a second. “Come f’me…”

Your orgasm hits hard, too fast, the pleasure spiking so sharp that your legs buckle as he groans against you. And Caleb keeps licking and sucking you through it like he wants to wring you dry.

He stands before your knees fully give out, catching you with one strong arm around your waist. You desperately try to suck in deep breaths, but they catch in your throat at the sight of his slicked up mouth and chin—coupled with lust-blown eyes that say he only wants more.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmurs. “Better than cake, I bet.” Then he kisses you—tongue and all—and you moan into it, dizzy from how quickly you reached your peak.

He lifts you into his arms effortlessly and carries you to the bedroom, shedding clothes with barely restrained urgency. His shirt hits the floor. His belt clatters across the carpet (god, it’s so hot when he undoes it with just one hand).

He kisses you between every hurried step, mouthing every patch of skin he can reach without ever slowing down. A quick bite on your bottom lip. Then he sucks harshly on the sensitive spot under your ear, surely trying to leave a mark that lasts.

When your back hits the bed, you reach for his cock already peeking out between the unzipped top of his pants. He’s already achingly hard, already leaking enough precum to make the lazy glide of your hand so smooth and slick.

Caleb shudders from your touch and whispers, “Need you, baby. Need you so bad I can’t think straight.”

You don’t keep him waiting any longer. He hikes your dress up around your hips while you guide him to your entrance. And then he pushes inside fully with one deep stroke.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans, bracing himself over you, arms trembling. “God, you feel so good. So perfect—always so wet for me.”

His thrusts start fast. Like he can’t slow down even if he wants to. The tip of his cock drags against your g-spot so deliciously that your eyes roll back. And he watches in awe, mesmerized by the way you moan for him.

You claw at his back and wrap your legs around his waist as he pounds into you, the bed creaking beneath every motion. It’s not long before you come again with a sob, nails digging into his shoulders as you clench around him. He kisses the tears from your cheeks and slows for a moment before pulling out.

The sudden loss makes your breath stutter in confusion. But just as quickly, he flips you over and pulls you onto your hands and knees.

“Don’t worry, pips,” he pants, pressing back into you with a broken groan. “I’m not done with you. Need to make you come again.”

You’re not sure if you’ll even be able to do what he wants when your whole pussy is tingling with oversensitivity. But he fucks you through it—through your cries, through the overstimulation, through the way your arms collapse beneath you and he has to wrap an arm around your stomach just to hold you upright.

You can feel him shaking behind you, can hear how close he is in the way his voice starts breaking, the way he whispers, “Gonna come inside you, fill you up—fuck—gonna mark you.” When your moans pitch higher, it only makes him even more crazed. “Yeah, you want that?” he murmurs, thrusts turning more erratic. “Then you gotta come for me again, pretty girl.”

Before you can say a word, his fingers glide down your front. They dip beneath your dress and hastily lock onto your clit, rolling and pinching the throbbing bud with the intent to make you flutter around him.

The two of you come together this time, your moans entangling and turning into the most obscene symphony.

Caleb twitches inside you before spilling one of the biggest loads you’ve ever taken from him. It leaks from your swollen pussy when he pulls out, but he wastes no time smearing it around and pushing some of it back inside with two thick fingers.

You can already tell your dress is going to be ruined—the top all damp with sweat and the hem messy with your combined releases. 

It’d make sense for Caleb to stop now. After such an intense orgasm, you’re expecting him to be too tired and not hard enough to keep going.

But when he eases his fingers out of your sore pussy and rolls you onto your back, his eyes are still full of something wild.

And when you glance down at his cock, it’s already half-hard again.

He slides back into you slowly, cradling your jaw with one hand and your thigh with the other. He moves like he wants to memorize every part of your body.

Every time you whimper, he moans. Every time you cry out, he praises you.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers. “So good for me, letting me have you again and again.”

You lose track of time. Hours blur into one long, aching haze of pleasure. He takes you every way he can—on your back, on your side with your leg hitched around his waist, then riding him until he’s trembling beneath you and gasping your name like a prayer.

And every time you come, he tells you how good you are. How lucky he is to have you. How you’re the only present he ever wants on his birthday.

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve had when you’re wrung out and raw, eyes glassy, thighs trembling and sticky.

But Caleb is still insatiable. Still making up for all the years he never got to have you like this. Your legs are spread by his strong hands, and he licks into you again—achingly slow this time. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s finally getting tired or if he just wants to take his time worshipping you.

“Hm, you taste even better after I’ve come inside you,” he whispers.

You moan, twitching beneath him, and he just smiles against your folds.

It takes longer now that you’ve had so many orgasms already, but he diligently pulls one more out of you. And after you come with such a sweet moan, you both collapse in a tangled heap, breathless and sore.

Caleb yanks you to his chest, his fingers playing with your hair while you catch your breath. His eyes are still half-lidded with desire as he mumbles, “Best birthday I’ve ever had.”

You snort. “You didn’t even get to blow out your candles.”

He looks at you with a lazy, wrecked smile. “I blew your back out instead.”

You swat his chest, but he catches your hand and kisses your fingers, then the inside of your wrist with a wet smack.

“I’m still not done,” he says, like it’s a threat. But you must be just as crazy as he is, because you faintly feel the pulse of arousal between your thighs yet again.

“Caleb, isn’t it getting too late–”

“It’s still my birthday for another hour,” he purrs, dragging his mouth along your sweaty neck. “Doesn’t that mean I get whatever I want?”

Your breath hitches and your body gets all worked up again as he slides his leaking cock up and down your slit.

“And what I want,” he whispers, “well…you already know.”

a/n: thank you to the anon who requested this!

💕 tag list: @heartyluv @doeeyes515 @lethalasylum @starryeyed-apple @starlitfics @craeatio @rafayelslittlestar @ruralamours @alyssac9 @blushofeve @alastor-simp @nezuswritingdesk

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

you’re kidding me, right?? 😭

***Please note:*** Sharing merch images + news is not intended to encourage and/or to pressure anyone into making purchases. It is up to the individual consumer to be informed and to choose how they spend their money.

BEHOLD THE LATEST TWST MERCH… a toy truck?????? They made merch of the isekai truck?!?!?!!!!/j 💀

IS IT JUST ME OR???? It looks like the dorm leaders and Grim are tacked up missing people posters… or wanted posters…

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

is murderbot a good show? no. does it do the books far more justice than we dared to hope? yes. will i be watching the show in its entirety buying 3 different types of ice cream to do a celebration marathon watch whilst sighing in relief kicking my feet giggling on the sofa? absolutely

[rcvcgers]

Rotten Apples ❦.ׂ

chapter one: a new beginning

masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link

you are here | next part

18+ MINORS DNI

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: you've always hated her. you live your life free from her and caleb. a stranger helps save you from a date gone wrong.

word count: 5.1k words

warnings: extreme loathing, kinda funny, kinda sad, a good mix of everything! mentions of death. not proofread!

author's note: hi! this is my first lads fic! it's lowkey a mess and is all over the place, but that's okay! i hope you all enjoy! <33 please feel free to comment! i love any & all feedback! <33

You never thought yourself to be a hateful person, but whenever you saw Caleb with her, your heart boiled. His smile was always the brightest with her. He always handed her the first water bottle after a run around the neighborhood. His eyes were always on her and not you during study hall. They shared giggles with one another and you were the last to know the joke as you filled out blank homework pages. Whenever she walked into a room, he jumped to her side and aided her with whatever it is she needed.

And she always needed something.

Your friendship with Caleb and the girl you deemed a she-devil blossomed from a young age, having been next-door neighbors with Josephine. You are older than her yet still a few months younger than Caleb, which meant that the two of you had to look out for her.

She was naive in many ways. She always trusts people too easily and is quick to help, not knowing that the world is cruel and is out to hurt her. It’s something you and Caleb bonded over; taking care of her was something you had in common with him alongside planes, absolutely loving apple pie, and always wanting to be the last one tagged during recess.

However, those childhood days have long passed and you’ve settled into a draining routine where you played a background character in someone else’s life.

When you and Caleb reached freshman year of high school, you were sure that he was going to ask you to be his date to the homecoming dance. Instead, you were surprised with the revelation that he was going to stay home and have a movie night with her since she wasn’t in high school yet.

Despite his compliments about your dress, he snuck back inside his house when you asked him if he needed a ride to the dance. She was waving him back inside in the background and he couldn’t have been happier to watch My Little Pony or whatever bullshit she had lined up.

You basked in his frequent compliments when he met you outside your home, when she wasn’t around. Caleb always knew what to say when you had a saddened frown on your face.

“Did James turn you down? I thought he liked you! You’re a catch!” Caleb’s warm words reached your ears and made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. At least he knew then that you were worthwhile. If only he wasn’t so blind to what you had to offer to him.

At least you had a year of high school alone with him. You two even shared a few classes together and had planned study nights to prepare for final exams! Huddled at the desk in his room, you could smell the sweet apple scent of his shampoo and were able to hear through raspiness of his chuckle right next to your ear.

It was fun until she came inside his room, claiming that she wanted to help you two study. That plan lasted for about ten minutes before she whined and complained that she wanted to watch her and Caleb’s favorite show. That night ended up with her snuggled into his side while he stroked her hair. You held the chip bowl, not by choice, and watched as your crush on the boy next door began to deteriorate.

When she finally joined your and Caleb’s high school, you bit your tongue and held back the deplorable comments that shuffled through your mind about his so called beloved. You even held back comments to your new friends about his relationship with her. You knew that if you ever said anything bad about her, he’d come to her defense and shun you for what you’ve said.

It never mattered how you felt. It didn’t matter if you were having a bad day or had just embarrassed yourself in front of your entire gym class when Becky threw a ball right at your face. His attention will forever be owned by her. You’ll never get to know how it feels to always be under his cautious gaze nor will you ever be a recipient of his charming smile.

Truth is, you used to be friends with them. The perpetual third wheel to all of their escapades and adventures. You used to be close to them but as time moved on, they grew closer together and you, well, just didn’t fit into their equation anymore. The funny thing is that they have no clue of their wrongdoing towards you nor did they realize that you had left their group entirely after months of sitting in your room, filled with nothing but discontent as you scrolled through their posted selfies together.

You thought you set yourself free from them. It’s better to watch from afar instead of up close, no? It spares you more heartbreak and it, very selfishly, keeps you away from her.

You can stay away from her smiles. Her laughter. The way her dark hair falls into the perfect messy bun while yours just looks plain erratic. Not to mention the way her hands always lingered on him while you watched, helpless from the other side of the lunch table.

And you can finally break free from that stupid nickname he has for her.

“Hey!” You hear a friend’s voice from over your shoulder. You turn and smile at them, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Are you ready for the game against the Rams tonight? I heard you’re starting!”

Before you can reply, you hear a thud behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you notice that Caleb leans against the metal lockers. His arms are crossed over his chest and he wears that stupidly charming  grin on his face.

“You have a game tonight? Why didn’t you tell us?” He asks. Her smile falters.

Us. That damned word.

“It’s not a big deal,” you shrug, placing your leftover books inside the locker. “You two are usually busy anyways doing…whatever…so it wouldn’t have mattered if you knew or not.”

Okay, maybe there is some venom in your tone and malice in the way you throw your books into your locker. To be fair, you’re so fed up with them ghosting you and never showing up to your games that you can’t help but let some of your anger out.

“Woah!” Caleb pushes off the locker and holds his hands in the air. You roll your eyes and slam the locker shut, walking away. He quickly follows and matches your hellish pace. “What’s wrong? You’ve been so distant lately. Me and—”

“Don’t,” you bark. The two of you pause in the middle of the hallway, your eyes locked on his in a heated glare. “How long do you think it’s been since I’ve hung out with you two?”

A look of confusion flashes across his face. You have to stop yourself from looking at the way his face scrunches up, the way his tongue pokes about between his lips while he thinks.

“Hm…like a month?” Caleb’s words are genuine, you know that, but it shatters your heart to know that he doesn’t even realize it’s almost been a year since you two hung out, let alone were in a room together.

“A month?!” You scoff and look away. A laugh filled with disdain and shock escapes your lips. Your hands drop to your side, tightly balled into fists, as anger washes throughout your body. “Caleb, be real with me right now. Do you truly think it’s been a month?”

You want to give him a chance to redeem himself, for him to own up to the mistake he’s made. Everyone deserves a second chance, right?

“I do, yes…” he wearily says. Your nostrils flare, cheeks heating with irritation.

“Hey guys!” Her cheerful tone scratches the inside of your brain. You sharply inhale and close your eyes just to open them to the side of her attaching herself to his side. “Are you okay? You look angry,” she remarks and gently places her hand on your shoulder. You immediately slap it away. The tips of your fingers tingle from the smack.

“Hey! What was that for?” Caleb steps in front of her, pushing the teen girl behind him.

You cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing up at Caleb, who guards her from you.

“Just fuck off and leave me alone!” You snap, pushing past them, your shoulder bumping into Caleb’s bicep. 

“Wait!” Caleb’s voice rings in your ears. A flash of hope makes your heart flutter.

Is he going to chase after you? Will he finally ditch her and see how you’re feeling for a change? Will the old Caleb come back, the one that actually cared about you and your feelings?

Your feet hesitate, pace drastically slowly, still in earshot of the other two’s conversation. You can hear his footsteps coming after you, going from slow to quick, but they suddenly stop.

“She isn’t worth it, Caleb,” her voice shoots any semblance of hope you felt, ripping your heart into shreds. “She’s so mean…she doesn’t deserve your care.”

The hallway in front of you turns glossy. You use the back of your hand to wipe away the tears that brew in your eyes. Your once reluctant pace hastens and you disappear down the hallway, becoming just another face in the crowd.

The year passed and you graduated with a new group of friends; friends that welcomed and invited you with open arms. Your camera roll was no longer sad, filled with empty selfies with her and Caleb not paying attention in the background, shifting to group photos and friends completing the other side of your hand heart. It filled your heart with the joy and happiness that your previous friendships lacked.

And most importantly of all: you were completely over Caleb and didn’t have to spend any more time around her. It’s a relief for you, really, and you’re able to go to the college of your dreams and pursue the career you wanted. 

The saddened memories no longer pained you. They no longer dug into your skin. Instead, you planted them into the soil of your mind, using the special fertilizer (the special ingredient being resent), and grew from them.

So what if they wronged you? You were now free and didn’t owe either of them a damn thing! That is, until Caleb died.

The news nearly broke you. Your mother informed you of the news when you came home for a visit. You were on a much needed break from work and were looking for a chance to relax. Your time of relaxation was quickly turned inside out.

You became a shell of yourself, the last memory of Caleb haunting your mind as you holed up in bed, covers covering the entirety of your body with a small hole for clean and cool breathing air. Your cheeks became perpetually stained with tears, becoming sticky in your sleep before the cycle started all over again.

The day of his funeral was unnecessarily rough. Your mother had to drag you out of bed and help you into the shower, the hot water turning cold from the amount of time you stood there. Once you stepped out, body trembling from the cold air, you stared at the black dress that was laid out across your bed.

It was simple. It stopped mid-thigh and the sleeves ran long down your arms. You paired it nicely with tights from high school, a pair that Caleb complimented you on, and a pair of simple booties.

She was the center of attention, of course, there was no doubt about that. The ache in your chest left you feeling conflicted. She sat alone, head hung low, as people walked by, chuckling as if they weren’t at a funeral reception.

You almost felt bad for her and the way her mascara streaked down her cheeks. She clung to a piece of metal in her hand, occasionally bringing it up to her lips to kiss it.

The distance between the two of you felt like a game of cat and mouse. She took one step forward, you took one back. She entered the hallway you found recluse in, you made sure that there was room in the closet for you to hide in.

You thought that you were able to slip out unnoticed until she called out your name.

“Hi…” your voice falls off. Her fists are balled at her sides, knuckles white.

“What are you doing here?” Her words are sharp, effortlessly slicing into you. “I thought you hated him.”

“I could never hate him…” the words barely come out, just above a meek whisper. She doesn’t say anything else. All she does is stare at you with her heartbroken expression, eyes strained and red from the sobs she let out earlier.

A part of your heart broke for her. The other part remained emotionless, knowing how she tormented you in your younger years by dangling Caleb in front of your face. It tormented you to know that you could still hold a sliver of resentment in your heart for something that happened so long ago. You quietly left, leaving her alone in the hallway, disappearing behind a familiar turn.

A year passes. The hatred you held in your heart has dissipated. You’ve watered the flowers you planted in your mind and the petals read off messages of forgiveness and second chances, even though you made sure to never run into her ever again.

Some people can forgive and forget, but you’ll be sure to forgive and keep a distance.

Skyhaven isn’t too bad of a home. Sure, there’s barely any trace of organic life throughout the city, except for the token tree the mayor decided to add about two months ago, but it’s a nice place to live. You’ve made yourself comfortable. The nightlife is great and the rain is even better. You even made some friends at your job and have gone out on a date or two with a guy who is very attentive.

But none of them are Caleb.

You stare at yourself in the cafe mirror, shaking your head. You fix your disheveled hair, wondering how you managed to spend the last ten minutes digging up the past when you’re on a date with a very cute guy. You bite your lip and tweak the last details of your outfit, flattening out a wrinkle in your skirt.

Pushing the bathroom door open, you glide down the hallway, smiling at the other customers who pass by. You can finally go back to…what’s his name again?

Jared? Clyde? Marc, who always emphasizes that there’s a ‘C’ at the end of his name instead of a ‘K’?

You clap your hands together when the name comes back to you. He jumps in his seat, his eyes closing in on you when you sit down. His smile is a little too goofy, missing out on any kind of charm that he can capitalize on, and you can’t help but watch out of the lower half of your vision as he itches his crotch.

“Thanks for waiting for me, George,” a warm smile spreads across your lips. He matches it and leans forward, pushing a colorful mug in your direction. You watch it closely before drawing it closer to you. You don’t take a sip, though, instead letting the whipped cream on top of the coffee melt. You sigh.

You don’t even liked whipped cream on your coffee. You know who would have remembered that?

“It was no problem at all!” George proudly proclaims. His chair scraps across the wooden floor. He inches closer and closer towards you in an attempt to close the distance but you scoot away from him, keeping a pleased smile on your face.

“So, what were you saying you do for a job?” Your question goes straight to his head. Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, you refrain from interrupting him about his long ramble about how he works as a “video game consultant” at a local game store.

The conversation is so painful to sit through. You glance between his beady gaze and the clock on the wall behind him. The ticking hands somehow move slower when he dives into his day to day routine. Maybe the whipped cream isn’t as bad as you previously thought.

An hour goes by and you have barely been able to get a word in. Mugs form into a half-circle in front of you. Your leg bounces up and down, hands jittery. Even your blinking is rapid as you solely stare at the clock.

“That’s enough about me. Tell me about yourself,” George grabs his glass. He ordered a cream soda at the beginning of the date but the cream separated from the colorful soda water, forming into chunky clouds.

“You know what,” you breathe out in a laugh, signaling over your shoulder to the door, “it’s getting late. I have an early start tomorrow so I should get going.” You stand from the chair and snatch your tiny purse from the seat beside you.

The cafe is practically empty now and the sun has set hours ago. You rush towards the exit, the route to the door feeling like it never ends as Greg — oh shit, George! — chases after you. 

The Skyhaven night is nice and crisp. The rain isn’t as hard tonight, just a mere sprinkle, and you rush out into the open, taking a deep breath. The chilled air fills your burning lungs and you’re able to breathe again, that is, until George grabs your hand. You gasp and snatch it back from him.

The raindrops lightly kiss your face but George’s sickening smile makes you want to hurl. He creeps towards you, the moon shining just bright enough for you to see the darkness form in his eyes.

“I have to get home, George!” You nervously chuckle, turning away. You rush towards the nearest bus stop, knowing that there will be other people there to take refuge with. George doesn’t let up though and his movements become more primal and animalistic as the seconds tick by.

“Come on, sweetheart,” George beckons from behind. You can hear his ragged breath from behind you grow close. You brace your body for impact…but nothing comes. Instead, you hear a struggle from behind. You swirl on your heels and stare at the scene behind you.

A tall man pushes George away from you. The moonlight reflects off of the shine of his coat, the top of his hat deflecting the light raindrops. You stagger backward, heart racing inside your chest, as George crumbles to the ground, a blur of red, grey, and blue pushing down on the man.

“She said she’s going home,” the voice growls. It itches the back of your mind, calling to you like a faint memory. “Leave. Or I’ll crush you right here and now.”

The voice beckons to you from the back of your mind, putting it at ease. The voice calls out your name followed by a throaty chuckle. It asks you how you’re doing, if you need help with that week’s math homework. You can also hear his voice apologize to you for forgetting about your plans to go to the movies with your group of friends, making some excuse that she got locked in the attic and needed rescuing.

The moonlight turns dark, the floating rock covered by a cloud, as the figure slowly approaches you. The once soft droplets of rain evolve into hardened projectiles, the wind picking up from all around you. With the weather matching your quickly escalating mood, you march through the rain, the phantom chasing after you.

“Hey! You’re getting soaked!” His voice calls from behind. You pay no attention to it.

The voice sounds exactly like a dead man! A person who is resting in peace six feet under and couldn’t possibly be here in Skyhaven.

You reach the bus stop and hide under the small covering, the rain pounding against the top, rolling off the sides. You hold your arms to yourself and your teeth clatter on the inside of your mouth. You have to tell yourself to not look at the man beside you.

Stranger danger, after all.

“Why are you ignoring me?” The man asks. It’s just the two of you at the bus stop. The stop’s light flickers, adding to the already ominous feeling that forms deep inside your chest. You hug your arms to your body, providing the only warmth in this cold night. “Oh, I get it. You’re mad at me.”

“I don’t even know who you are!” You retort rather quickly, finally looking up at the man.

You gasp and stumble backward. He quickly reaches for you, his large, warm hands gripping your waist, stabilizing you.

He looks down at you with an irresistible and charming smile. His purple eyes seem to glow under the dim lighting. He wears a black and orange rain jacket, black baseball cap sitting on his head. He cocks his head to the side, gaze drifting to memorize your face.

Nausea sweeps over your body. You tear your gaze off of the phantom before you. The cold air pricks the inside of your lungs, rapidly moving in and out of your system.

This can’t be real, right? He cannot possibly be standing in front of you, alive and well, with that damn smile on his face. A single tear rolls down your cheek, your lips parted. Your breath flows out of your mouth in gentle plumes of steam.

“Caleb?” Your voice falters. He chuckles, smoothing down your frizzy hair.

“The one and only! C’mon, you can say it: you missed me!”

You reach out, grabbing his arms, squeezing him. His brows furrow, eyes training themselves on your hands as you poke and prod various parts of his body. You grab his cheeks, pulling on them before squishing his face. He gently takes your hands into his, moving your hands away from his face.

“You done yet?”

“You’re alive!”

“I am well aware of that, yes.” His laugh fills your ears and your heart swells.

Even after all these years of forgetting Caleb, you still end up swooning for him the moment he saves you from Landon.

Or was it David? Eh. It doesn’t really matter.

“How…what…” you stammer, unable to form a cohesive and coherent sentence. Caleb sighs and takes your hand. He flattens your palm against his chest.

How heartbeat is slow and steady…it’s there. You gasp, bottom lip trembling, legs slowly becoming jelly.

Tears freely flow down your face as the realization of his existence sets in.

He’s alive.

He’s here.

He’s breathing.

His last memory of you isn’t you ending your friendship and avoiding him for the rest of your senior year of high school.

You collapse to your knees, hand digging into your chest. A sharp pain slices into your chest as your fingernails dig into your skin in an attempt to grab your heart and to scream at it to calm down. The pounds from your heart makes your ears ring, drowning out the endless pitter patter of rain. Even your lungs feel as if they are on fire, unable to suck in and inhale the oxygen that you need to survive.

Your eyes open and Caleb’s face is right in front of yours. You can hear him speak but cannot make out a single word that he says. He gently helps you back to your feet.

“Take it easy,” his words seep through the sound of your heartbeat, “breathe.”

His hand slides to the back of your neck, warming your body, and his thumb gently grazes the side of your neck. You inhale through your nose, holding it for a few seconds before slowly exhaling until all of the air is out of your lungs.

“Does she know?” the question pops out of your mouth before you can stop it.

How could you even ask that at a time like this? You should be seeing if he’s okay! If he’s in any sort of trouble that you can help get him out of.

Did he fake his death? Has he been alive this whole time? When was he going to come see you?

Caleb sharply inhales through gritted teeth, pulling away from your face. You watch him closely, bottom lip trembling.

You know. You know the answer.

Of course she knew before you! She is his beloved, the one person he will spend the rest of his life with. It’s laughable to even think that you stood a chance against her.

“Actually,” you interrupt him, covering his mouth, “don’t answer that. I really don’t want to know.” Even though every fiber of your being screamed blood murder at you to figure it out.

Is he dating her? Has he ditched her for good? HAs Caleb finally come to the realization that she isn’t some angel that came down from the heavens.

His purple eyes blink at you, perplexed by your actions. Caleb speaks into your hand but his voice is a mere muffle. You sigh and look out at the pouring rain.

You need to get home.

You need to get home and get away from him.

You need to relieve yourself of any memory, item, or scent that can remind you of him because, well, he clearly isn’t yours to have.

If you stay any longer, you’re going to end up crying in the rain, unloading all of your emotions onto him. And Caleb, who has risen from dead, doesn’t deserve to hear any of it. He’s innocent in all of this and no matter how angry and resentful you can feel towards him, you’ll never be able to hold it against him.

“Get home safe, Caleb,” you breathe the words out, slowly releasing your hand from his mouth.

You push away from him and bare the thundering rain on your own, hugging your jacket to your body. You sprint across the street, desperately needing to get away from him.

Caleb watches you with wide eyes, captivated by the woman you’ve become.

You’ve lost all the baby fat in your cheeks. Your hair is longer and is styled to perfection.

You’re bolder. Funnier, even, whether it’s intentional or not. Caleb laughed at your jokes in the cafe, particularly the ones that George didn’t find funny.

Whatever. He’s an idiot.

He heard your laugh from inside the cafe and got drunk off of it. He found himself smiling wider than he has before in the past year.

You took his mind off of his stressful job, which he just came back from, and relaxed his body. He didn’t think about how ling he stayed in that damned tunnel nor did he think about his connections with Ever.

Your laugh turned off the fight or flight switch that perpetually stayed on inside his head. It did pain him, though, to know that you were out with other guys. This George fellow is not your match. He’s a Sul-indulgent prick who only talks about himself.

And what the fuck is a video game consultant anyways?

His job is nothing compared to being a Colonel in the Farspace Fleet. You’ll surely be impressed with that.

You did always say you loved a man in a uniform.

His purple eyes flicker with excitement. He steps out into the rain and follows in your exact footsteps. Once he’s across the street, he turns around and stares at the cafe you two once sat in.

She walks out with her friends, umbrellas covering their heads. They smile and laugh with one another, teasing as thunder booms in the background. He chuckles at their umbrellas but his smile quickly fades when he realizes that you didn’t have one.

Silly girl. Now he has to check in on you and make for sure that you don’t catch a cold.

His gaze drifts to her but the spark he once felt isn’t there anymore. She’s…boring now. Caleb tilts his head back and laughs.

How could he have been so blind?

His focus has been on her all along but you…you are something else.

Captivating. Intoxicating. Enchanting. Hilarious. Fascinating.

Your fruity perfume formed a tent in his pants. Have you always smelled like apples and cinnamon? You encapsulate an autumn evening. Suddenly, he loves it when the leaves change colors and fall from the trees. He’ll never let you fall ever again.

Caleb doesn’t know how he let you slip through his fingers so many times. You live in Skyhaven, too, right under his nose. He should have found you sooner.

He should have gone with you to the homecoming dance. He regrets not watching you during the countless games you’ve invited him to. He should have closed the door in her face when she petered you two when you needed to study for the math exam. It was never your best subject. Lucky, he excelled in it.

And he should have fucking gone after you when you told him to fuck off all those years ago.

But now?

Now Caleb’s going to take back the time he missed out on. Surely, you’d feel the same way when he comes back? After all, he does know where you live now.

Six floors up. The fourth room from the left. You have a stained glass butterfly hanging in your window. He’ll see it up close soon enough.

He stands outside your apartment building with a bright smile on his face, staring up at your bedroom. He can see you move throughout the living room, your shadow painted against the far wall. His eyes follow as you slip into your bedroom. You look out the window.

What are you looking at? I’m here. Show me anything. Give me the signal I need to come and save you.

You turn on a lamp. The light points up to the butterfly, illuminating the blue and orange colors from the glass.

You’re so thoughtful.

How did you know those are his favorite colors?

Caleb chuckles to himself, shaking his head. His feet carry him to the entrance of your apartment building, just barely sneaking in as a couple leaves. He thanks them and sneaks to an elevator, stepping inside as he presses the button to your floor.

Thank you for the signal, he thinks to himself, I’ll be there soon.

if you're interested in being a part of a taglist, please let me know here!

[fuctacles]

Soulmate identifying words but the first words *meant* for you count, so Steve knows the lyrics of Corroded Coffin's first hit song before ever hearing it on the radio. It's written in chicken scratch on his thigh.

Eddie wrote this song about his stupid crush from stupid Hawkins High that never fully went away.

[champion-of-love]

apple's mom always sends her clothes one or two sizes too small. when she unpacks it in the mail and sees them for the first time, apple already knows they won't fit. she calls her mom, snow apologizes and promises to send the correct sizes and says: i didn't realize you've grown so big apple pie

raven's mom left her behind clothes for her, but they're all a little bit too big. she and her mom have the same style and raven's tired of making her own clothes all the time, so she tries them on. they're kinda loose and when she stares in the mirror, she can almost hear her mom say: you'll grow into it blackbird

[asavt]

Today's warm ups: A little bit of that tag-ramble of the deceit trio living in PV's robes, a scenario related to that with Espresso and Black Sapphire (and Candy Apple), and a little storyboard idea.

[theabigailthorn]

British producers be like: THEM: "We love this! Let us put our heads together and get back to you early next week!" SIX MONTHS LATER UNPAID INTERN FOR THAT COMPANY: "Everyone you spoke to has been sacked, we hate you fuck off."

American producers be like:

THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON YOU'VE EVER MET: Hey kiddo do you wanna meet The Rock? Do you wanna meet Margot Robbie? Do you want to fuck my wife? I can't give you a job but gosh darn it you've got moxxy, let me put you in touch with Doug Bigcheese, the biggest producer in Hollywood! DOUG BIGCHEESE, EMAILING YOU BACK WITHIN 20 MINUTES: Hey kiddo, that guy said you're awesome! Lemme ask round town and in the meantime you can live in my house borrow my car and by the way have you met my wife?!

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Feelings Thawed

Character; Cater Diamond

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, pining, ice skating (to various degrees of success)

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; This is a present/thank you to my mutual @i-like-forgs. I hope you enjoy this ice skating scene with Cater, and that you get to skate soon!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

The brisk wind bit at your nose, and you pulled up your scarf, trying to keep away the offending wind. Around you it was a winter wonderland, all made possible in the temperate conditions thanks to Cater, who was filming you skating around on the frozen pond’s surface.

“You know,” you hollered, making sure that you caught his attention, “you should join me! It’s fun!” You came to a stop by the pond’s edge, where Cater was standing with a large thermos.

Cater just shot you a wink, handing you the thermos. “This is for you though, silly!” 

He was deflecting, you could tell; behind that bright and cheery smile that he always seemed to wear around others, you knew when there was something off with Cater. You accepted the thermos though, and took a sip of the spicy apple cider, still piping hot.

You gave him a look and pulled lightly on his coat sleeve. “Yes, but it’s more fun with others, come on Cater!” You stepped back onto the ice, and slowly skated near him, waiting with an eager smile.

He looked at you, and then back at the ice, but he stayed standing in the light snow, shooting you that smile. “But I can’t take photos if I’m out there with you!” He scratched at the back of his neck.

Liar. “Cater,” you looped back around and stepped onto the bank, balancing on your skates, “do you not know how to skate?”

Cater’s smile turned sheepish, and his ‘ahahaha, looks like my gig is up’ chuckle made its appearance. He had been found out. “Never got the chance to,” he hid his face slightly in his scarf, either to keep the cold at bay or to hide that his cheeks were turning pink. “So I’d just slow ya down.”

You took his hand into yours, “Well, I could teach you if you wanted. Just a warning though, you’re gonna fall on your butt a lot, might get a few bruises.”

Cater looked down at your entwined hands. Mittens and gloves separated your skin from touching one another, but Cater could swear that he could feel the sensation nonetheless through the layers of fabric.

“You would? Even if I pull you down with me?” 

The last question wasn’t just about the ice skating; Cater didn’t want to force you to do anything that you didn’t want to… and that included being his friend. His heart seemed to whisper stronger emotions though, but he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.

You walked him out to the ice, and the both of you swiftly fell down on the ice, hard. But you just laughed and got right back up again, “Well, we did just fall. There isn’t anything scary about falling down; yes it stings and might leave a gnarly bruise, but in order to move forward we have to fall and get back up. So yes, is what I guess I’m saying.”

Cater looked up at you, the sun illuminating you and the snow glittered behind you. You were holding your hand out again, waiting for him. And Cater took your hand. 

It took him a while to get the hang of it, and he fell down quite a bit, but every time he fell down you helped him back up. And by the time that the sun was setting in the west, the both of you were cold, and both were going to wake up tomorrow with some bruises. It was fun though, which is all that mattered… but that whisper in Cater’s heart was by now singing, and maybe he would listen to it, but for now, he was happy with how the way things were, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, especially with how much you had smiled today. Your smile and knowing that you had fun with him was enough.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

[inkyrainstorms]

A Good Day To Die (not anymore. Now it’s epic brawl+taco+fireworks day) (why do you ask)

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face *throws this at you and runs away*

They’re so ridiculous absolutely my favorite idiots. Total of one brain cell between them when they’re together. Ch. 4 for A Good Day to Die(Again) did something to my brain chemistry

[apple-orchards-writings]

TW: Knife play, kylar being kylar, uhh cumming untouched ?

Knife play with Kylar, he's usually the one holding the knife, but this time you've taken it from his hands, and he's nervously sweating, waiting to see what you'll do to him.

Imagine his surprise when, after shooting a smile at him, you bring the knife closer to his throat, not outright pushing it in, just slowly dragging it towards his chin, leaving a trail of red in your wake.

Kylar's trying his best to keep his breathing steady, but by god he's finding it hard, much like his nether regions. All his senses are in overdrive, you're making him go insane. His knife, the very knife he sharpens every day while thinking of planting in the brains of his rivals, this knife is now at his own throat, and you've started carving your own name in his skin.

By the time you're done with the last letter, his pants are a lot more sticky, and he's smiling wider than a whale. You're looking at him with a self satisfied smirk, pulling the knife away, that is, until he grabs your arm and forcefully pulls it back up, bringing it towards his chest, using his other hand to pull down his shirt.

"Please, please, keep going, darling. Carve your own heart next to mine, where it belongs."

[asiatic-apple]

Pain reliever

aka slow, injured sex

Caleb x female reader

Words: 2k

Recommended listening: caleb’s pained grunts in farewell intimacy (lol i’m being cheeky)

Caleb winces as you dab antiseptic on a shallow gash across his ribs. “That one looks worse than it feels,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant even as you catch him gritting his teeth.

You ignore the way he brushes it off, acting like it doesn’t matter that he’s covered in scrapes and bruises and still drenched in sweat from the fight. He always downplays his injuries—and if you try to call him out on it, he just says he learned it from you. It’s aggravating, to say the least.

But even through your annoyance, your hands are steady, practiced at cleaning up various injuries as a Hunter. Your body, on the other hand, hasn’t gotten the memo to chill the fuck out and just focus on taking care of Caleb.

Your thighs keep pressing together, tightening reflexively every time he hisses or groans under your touch. There’s something about the way he looks right now—slumped on the bed in only his criminally tight boxer briefs, flecks of dried blood painting the curve of his abs—that makes heat curl low in your belly.

He looks perfectly wrecked right now.

It’s not like you want him to be in pain. You'd do anything to stop him from getting even the slightest scratch on his flawless skin. But he’s headstrong by nature, and being Colonel means he’s always throwing himself into danger.

Maybe it’s twisted, but you feel a surge of desire every time Caleb is battle-worn like this. Each mark makes him look a bit more dangerous and proves that he’d do anything to keep you from harm—even if it means taking all your hits for you.

It also doesn’t help that he keeps making such sinful sounds. Is he in pain, or is he enjoying this? Who would make these kinds of moans when they’re severely injured?

You start to wonder if he has a masochistic streak. It wouldn’t be a surprise.

His low chuckle breaks your momentary daydream of pulling more of those noises out of him with a very different method. When you drag your gaze away from the sheen of his sweaty muscles and look up at his stupid smug face, he smirks. Even as he’s bloody and beaten up from being cornered by too many Wanderers, he gives you a lopsided, far-too-cocky grin.

“You’re clenching your thighs every time I breathe, pips,” he murmurs with a curious tilt of his head. “You gonna tell me why?”

It doesn’t matter that you scowl and try to play it off. He still raises a brow like he’s daring you to deny it.

“I think,” he says slowly, “someone’s getting a little worked up from patchin’ me up.”

Before you can say anything, he catches your wrist and tugs you forward with a soft grunt, making you straddle him properly. Your other palm braces against the headboard of the bed as you instinctively try not to put too much pressure on him.

He’s so warm beneath you, and his pupils get blown wide as he yanks you even closer, intent on leaving no inch of space between your bodies.

“Wait, you’re injured,” you try to protest.

His grip tightens, refusing to let you pull away. In this newfound position, you can easily feel the growing bulge beneath his underwear, and you can't help but grind down on it just to alleviate some of the ache that was festering between your thighs before.

A groan rumbles in Caleb’s throat as his hands settle on your waist. “I know my limits,” he says softly, smiling up at you like he’d give you anything you desire. “I can handle whatever you throw my way.”

Exhaustion and pain roughen his voice—and the sound of it sends a jolt straight through your core.

“You want me, don’t you?” he asks, fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt and teasing you with feather-light touches that leave goosebumps on your skin.

“Well, yeah…but–”

“No buts,” he interrupts playfully.

There’s a gentle tug of your shirt before he hastily tries to get it over your head, even if the big movement makes him wince in pain. Not even your stern look at his discomfort can stop him from pulling it all the way off and flinging it to the side.

When his eyes lock onto your bare chest, he groans softly at the sight of your pebbled nipples.

“If you want me, then you can have me,” he whispers reverently while running his hands up your sides. “Will it make you feel better if I don’t move? You can just…use me.”

It’s too tempting of an offer, and he knows it. He looks at you like your pleasure is the only thing he cares about. And you’re basically done bandaging all his wounds now. Would it really be so bad to take him up on such a delectable offer?

“You promise you’ll tell me if I hurt you or make you uncomfortable?” you ask, holding out your pinky.

Caleb chuckles but links his larger pinky with yours. “Yeah, yeah. I promise, pip-squeak.”

You stare at him for a second longer, tightening your finger around his in a warning that he better stay true to his word. When he just continues smiling back at you with those cute, innocent puppy eyes, you can’t hold back anymore.

You press your mouth to his carefully, and he kisses you back just as slowly—like he’s savoring the taste of you. The softness of it reminds you of the fight from earlier. One wrong move could have led to you losing him all over again.

The sudden tension creeping up your body is easily clocked by Caleb, so he distracts you with wandering hands. He palms your breast, his thumb brushing lazily over your nipple to pull a low moan from your parted lips.

With each wanton sound you make, his cock strains even harder beneath the thin fabric of his underwear. You can’t tell if the dampness between you is from him, you, or both.

You rock your hips forward—just enough to test the friction. The heat beneath his boxers makes you gasp, and now there’s no mistaking it: that wetness you feel is mutual.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask, breath hitching when he ruts up against you just slightly.

His fingers flex around your body. “I said you can take what you want,” he nearly growls in restraint. “And I meant it.”

Another gasp tears from your throat as you grind more deliberately, chasing the right angle that makes your toes curl. The friction is rough, a little less forgiving than skin-on-skin, but Caleb doesn’t seem to care.

One of his hands continues to play with your nipples while the other rests on your waist. He’s not guiding you or controlling your movements. He’s staying true to his word and letting you do whatever you want to him.

“God,” you breathe, pressing your forehead to his as you move faster. “You feel so good, Caleb. I can feel you—so hot.”

“Yeah?” he rasps, sucking in a sharp breath when the cleft of your cunt nudges the head of his cock again. “Then keep going. That’s it,” he coos as you roll your hips a bit faster. “Rub that pretty pussy on me, baby.”

Your panties are ruined now, completely soaked through and sticking to you with every drag you make against his twitching erection. And even though he clenches his jaw and his muscles strain beneath you, he doesn’t even try to adjust himself. He just lets you hump him harder, your thighs beginning to tremble with the effort.

But this isn’t enough to push you over the edge. When you whine softly, he immediately knows what you need. He tugs your panties to the side, knuckles whitening as he grips it in a fist. Then he wastes no time bringing his other hand to your dripping entrance, sliding his fingers along your slit to gather the wetness there and glide up to your clit.

“Is this what you need?” Caleb murmurs, keeping his eyes on your face as he slowly circles the aching bud.

The direct stimulation makes you whimper and nod frantically, unable to use words to respond. And all the while, he stares at you with a strange mix of adoration and amusement.

He keeps watching, even as your eyes flutter shut and your head tilts back in a soundless cry of pleasure. No matter how many times he gets to do this with you, he will never stop drinking in all your little reactions with awe.

It’s like he still can’t believe he gets to slip two fingers inside your spasming cunt while his thumb replaces the quickening circles he was making around your clit.

With his fingers finally filling that deep, pulsing ache and pressing just right against your g-spot, you lose all sense of cautiousness. A more frenzied pace begins as you eagerly fuck yourself on his fingers and barrel toward your orgasm.

“This…s’unfair,” you slur through a needy whine as your head falls into the crook of his neck. “You’re cheating. Said you wouldn’t move.”

Caleb chuckles and curls his fingers by a fraction more, pressing even harder on that spot that makes you see stars. “But I’m not movin’, pip-squeak. You’re doing all the work for me.”

He winces a little when your fingers dig into the bruises blooming along his shoulders, but he doesn’t complain. His groan echoes in your ear before he presses a gentle kiss to your warm cheek. “You’re gonna come like this, aren’t you?”

You nod, desperate, panting into his neck. Your whole body tightens as the pleasure peaks—until you're clenching around him hard, hips stuttering as your pussy swallows his fingers and gushes against his palm.

Your voice cracks on his name, and distantly, you feel Caleb’s hips jerking at the same time something warm and wet coats his underwear. He moans with you, shaking as you slowly hump him a few more times while you come down from your high.

After a long moment, you slump forward, burying your face in his throat. Sweat and the smell of iron cling to his skin, but you still gingerly press a kiss to his neck while his fingers slide out and add to the slick mess where your lap meets his.

You glance down and bite your lip at the sight of his cum-stained boxers. It’s too tempting to reach down and tug the waistband below his half-hard cock, a cute little blush gracing his cheeks when you give in.

He looks so sweet and shy now—none of that smug confidence he had while his fingers were buried inside you.

You smear his cum around the tip of his cock, watching with satisfaction when it twitches and Caleb whines softly from oversensitivity.

“Did I hurt you at all?” You study his expression carefully for any hint of a lie.

He shakes his head, fingers gripping the sheets beside you when you start running the tip of your finger along his slit and around the head.

If he wasn’t in much pain before, he’s definitely feeling something now—his cock twitching in your palm, overstimulated and flushed. But you know he'd tap out if he needs to.

Chuckling softly, you ask, “Then should we go for another round?”

The teasing question is accompanied by you sliding off his body to rest your head on his lap, lips inching closer to his cock. When he only nods and whimpers from your breath fanning across his skin, you take it as a sign that he wants this.

“Alright,” you whisper before pressing a quick kiss to the tip. “But this time, you better behave…and stay still.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he croaks, already trembling—just before your mouth wraps around him, promising a whole new kind of ache.

a/n: I was stuck on this fic for so long, and I'm still not sure if I like it lol...but I'm hoping I did an okay job!

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banner and dividers by me (please don't repost)

[daphnalia]

and they were galpals

[rcvcgers]

Rotten Apples ❦.ׂ Masterlist

Synopsis : You and Caleb have gone from friends to strangers to...well, you'll find out soon enough.

Chapter One: A New Beginning, Complete

Chapter Two: Coincidence, Fate, or Something Planned?, Complete

Chapter Three: Prove Me Wrong, Complete

Chapter Four: Why Are You Here?, Complete

Chapter Five: Just a Taste, Complete

Chapter Six: Friends? More Like Co-Workers, Complete

Chapter Seven: Working With The Colonel, Complete

Chapter Eight: Space or Time, Complete

Chapter Nine: Here Comes The Bride!, Complete

Chapter Ten: Fallout , Complete

Chapter Eleven: A World Without You , Complete

Chapter Twelve: What I've Become , Complete

Chapter Thirteen: Escape, Complete

Chapter Fourteen: Frankenstein's Monster, Complete

Chapter Fifteen . . . in progress

Video Games, a requested one shot

Rotten Apples, a Spotify Playlist

[deathbywhump]

Whumpees who crave praise. Whumpees who want to be told "It's all okay". Whumpees who would die just to hear that someone cares about them. Whumpees who have been starved from being told they meant anything.

Whumpees who would suffer everything for a "You've done so well".