#bath 34

[beautifulplaceofyouth]

WERE YOU PLANNING TO JOIN ME?

summary - Driven by curiosity, you impulsively open Caleb's ajar bathroom door and find him, near-naked and captivating, polishing a gun. His intense gaze meets yours in the mirror, creating a moment of charged silence and unspoken questions.

pairing - Caleb!Yandere x Reader (Best friends!au)

(nsfw +18) - He is absolutely insane in this (they both are), inexperienced!reader!first time, male!receiving, female!receiving, vaginal raw shower sex, creampie, a lot of tears, gun play as in...literally, knife throwing, a lot of banter and tension, gravity and resonance evol usage, praise kink, nipple play, neck biting, pet names(sweetheart, baby, princess), a lot of dirty talk, he is very much bossy, possessive and sadistic as always. This is a little bit angst but sweet. He likes it rough.

w-20k - Got carried away with this one because I was too excited. I don't even care that it isn't like the original. I needed this.

Masterlist

The rhythmic drumming of the shower fills the opulent, cloud-kissed apartment. Skyhaven, a marvel of suspended architecture and technological prowess, hums with a quiet energy, a stark contrast to the sudden flutter in your chest. You're here, a visitor in Caleb's extraordinary world, drawn by a longing that has quietly bloomed over years of shared history. A mischievous impulse takes hold – a desire to catch him off guard, to inject a spark of playful surprise into his meticulously ordered life.

Your mind drifts back to the Chronorift Catastrophe of '34, a dark mark on the timeline that had unexpectedly woven your lives together. Orphaned in its wake, you and Caleb found solace and a surrogate family in Gran's warm, welcoming embrace. 

The bond forged in those turbulent years was unlike any other, a tapestry woven with threads of shared sorrow, unwavering loyalty, and a silent understanding that transcended words. Caleb, always the stoic protector, and you, the fiery, independent spirit, found a strange equilibrium within Gran's chaotic, loving home. He was your brother in all but blood, your confidante, your rock.

That was fourteen years ago. Now, standing outside his bathroom door in Skyhaven, in his own domain, the air thick with steam and anticipation, you feel a subtle shift in the familiar dynamic. The playful surprise you intend feels laced with something else, a tremor of nervous excitement that you can't quite explain.

Drawn by an irresistible curiosity, you move closer. The door is slightly ajar, a teasing invitation that your impulsive nature can't resist. A frown furrows your brow. It's unusual for Caleb to leave anything to chance, especially a door. The scent of his sandalwood soap mingles with the humid air, further fueling your burgeoning anticipation.

Against your better judgment, against the silent warnings echoing in your head, you push the door open. The hinges sigh in protest, a sound that seems deafening in the otherwise silent apartment.

The scene that unfolds before you steals the breath from your lungs. Time seems to slow, each detail etching itself onto your memory with vivid clarity.

There he is. Caleb.

Towering and undeniably male, he stands bathed in the diffused light of the futuristic bathroom. Water droplets cling to his skin, catching the light like scattered diamonds, tracing the sculpted lines of his back. The muscles ripple with restrained power, a testament to years of rigorous training and the demanding life he leads as a Fleetspace Colonel. His dark hair, usually impeccably styled, is damp and tousled, falling across his forehead in a manner that is both boyish and utterly captivating.

A simple white towel is slung low around his hips, offering a tantalizing glimpse of the lean, powerful physique beneath. But it's not the near-nudity that truly stops you in your tracks.

Around his neck, nestled against the tanned skin of his throat, gleams a familiar piece of silver. Your silver Chan dog tag. The one you gave him the day he left for DAA, a small token of your affection and unwavering belief in him. He’s always worn it, a constant reminder of your shared past, a silent promise of enduring connection. The sight of it there, against his skin, sends a jolt of unexpected warmth through your veins.

Caleb is standing in front of a large, impeccably clean mirror, his reflection staring back at him with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. He's doing something with his hands, something that makes your heart pound in your chest.

Your gaze drops to his hands, and your breath hitches in your throat. He’s holding a gun. A large, black, undeniably lethal weapon. He is wiping it meticulously with a white towel, his movements precise and practiced.

As a hunter yourself, you’re no stranger to firearms. They are tools, instruments of protecting the city from wanderers, as familiar to you as your own gun you wield with deadly accuracy. You've seen Caleb handle weapons countless times, witnessed firsthand his skill and expertise. But seeing him here, in the sterile intimacy of his bathroom, polishing a gun with such focused intensity, feels… different. Disturbing, even. This isn’t the Caleb you know. Or perhaps it is, just a side of him you haven't been privy to before.

Your eyes travel back up, drawn to his reflection in the mirror. And then, they lock with his.

His eyes, that arresting shade of violet that has always held a strange power over you, are fixed on yours. There's a flicker of surprise, a fleeting shadow of something unreadable, before they settle into an unnervingly calm, assessing gaze.

Shit.

The silence stretches, thick and heavy with unspoken questions and burgeoning awareness. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, paralyzed by the intensity of his stare. Your mind races, desperately trying to formulate an explanation, a plausible excuse for your blatant intrusion.

He lowers the gun, placing it carefully on the pristine countertop. The sound is almost deafening in the otherwise silent room. He doesn't break eye contact.

“Were you planning on joining me?” His voice is low, a rumble that vibrates through the air, sending a fresh wave of heat washing over your skin. 

There's a teasing lilt to his words, a hint of amusement that barely masks the underlying tension.

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. "I... I just wanted to surprise you." The words sound weak, unconvincing even to your own ears.

A slow smile spreads across his face, transforming his features, softening the harsh lines of his jaw. "You succeeded." He takes a step closer, closing the distance between you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Though I must admit, I prefer your surprises to be a little less… intrusive."

You flush, your cheeks burning under his scrutiny. "I didn't mean to… to intrude. I just heard the shower, and..." You trail off, unable to articulate the jumble of thoughts and emotions swirling within you.

"And?" he prompts, his voice a husky whisper.

You take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. "And I thought I'd catch you off guard."

He chuckles, a low, throaty sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "You always were a noisy person, weren't you?" 

He takes another step, and now you're close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body, to smell the lingering scent of sandalwood and something else, something uniquely Caleb.

"Only when necessary," you retort, your voice regaining a touch of its usual fire. "Besides, you leave the door open. What did you expect?"

"Perhaps," he says, his gaze dropping to your lips, "I wanted to be caught."

Your heart leaps into your throat. "Caught doing what, exactly?"

The air crackles with a strange energy, a mixture of tension and something undeniably… charged. Before you can fully process the situation, he uses his gravity manipulation – a casual display of power that still sends shivers down your spine – to slam the door shut behind you with his mind alone. The click of the lock echoes in the suddenly confined space, a definitive sound that seals you both inside.

You jump, startled by the abruptness of it all. The sound reverberates through the apartment, amplifying the awareness of your isolation. Your heart pounds a little faster in your chest, a mixture of apprehension and a thrill you can’t quite explain.

“Just making sure no one else gets any ‘surprising’ ideas.” His eyes twinkle mischievously, the light glinting off the moisture in his now-drying hair. But beneath the playful glint, there’s an unmistakable intensity, a smoldering ember that catches your breath. 

He runs a hand through his damp hair, that simple gesture somehow drawing attention to the sculpted lines of his shoulders and arms, unconsciously giving you a full view of his muscular physique. The water droplets cling to his skin, emphasizing the lean strength that's usually hidden beneath his uniform. 

"You know," he begins, his voice a low drawl that seems to caress the air.

You frown, pulling yourself back from the brink of distraction. "In your apartment? Really?" You scoff, trying to inject a note of normalcy into the increasingly unusual situation. "You're a colonel, you know better than to leave your own home vulnerable. You wouldn’t let just anyone in like that… And besides," you shrug, gesturing vaguely, "you added my fingerprint to your automatic door lock, remember?"

He raises an eyebrow, a slow, deliberate movement that accentuates the sharp angles of his face. A smirk, knowing and undeniably attractive, plays on his lips. 

"True," he concedes, his voice laced with amusement. "But you never know when someone might try to pull a fast one, even with biometric security." He backs away from you, moving with the effortless grace you’ve come to expect, and leans against the counter, his arms crossed casually over his chest. The posture is relaxed, almost nonchalant, but you sense the underlying alertness, the coiled energy that’s always present. "Besides," he adds, his gaze locking with yours, "I didn't expect you to be the one sneaking up on me."

You scowl, your carefully constructed composure starting to fray at the edges. "I didn't… I just wanted to give you a surprise visit. I didn't know you'd be polishing your toys," you nod pointedly at his gun, lying disassembled on the nearby counter. The metal gleams under the lamplight, a stark reminder of the dangerous world he now inhabits since you got together again.

He chuckles, the sound a warm rumble in his chest, and uncrossing his arms to pick up his gun again. He examines a piece with careful precision. "You should see your face when you make that scowl," he teases, his smirk widening. "It's quite... endearing." He polishes the gun absentmindedly, his movements fluid and practiced. "So, no sneaking around to steal my food or snoop through my stuff this time?"

“Excuse you?” You exclaim, indignation flooding your voice. “I’m not… I just…”

He cuts you off, still chuckling. "Relax, I'm just messing with you," he says, his voice softening slightly. He sets the gun down with a soft clink and walks over to you, his movements fluid and predatory, like a panther stalking its prey. The space between you shrinks, the air growing thick with unspoken desires. "You're the only one I let get away with stealing my food, remember? It’s practically a tradition at this point."

“It’s not my fault that you always give me snacks…” you mumble, trying to deflect the intensity of his gaze. It's true, of course. He always has a stash of your favorite treats, and he never seems to mind when you help yourself.

"Because you always end up rummaging through my pantry anyway," he retorts, ruffling your hair playfully, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. He steps back, creating a sliver of distance, and resumes polishing his gun, his expression turning thoughtful. "Speaking of snooping..."

You clear your throat, a nervous tic that betrays your guilt. Your eyes dart around the room, avoiding his piercing stare. “I didn’t do it again. I swear.”

He pauses in his task, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. The playful glint is gone, replaced by a sharp, assessing look. "You promise?" he asks, his tone laced with skepticism. He sets the gun down with a sigh and turns to face you fully, his arms crossed again, his body a wall between you and the door. "You swear on your favorite chocolate bar that you haven't been going through my stuff lately?"

You look at the bathroom ceiling, as if searching for answers in the mundane. "Oh, would you look at that? There’s some dust." You point vaguely upwards, hoping to distract and deflect. 

The attempt is weak, even you know it. The dust is barely visible, and the pathetic maneuver only serves to confirm his suspicions. You’re caught, and you know it. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the telltale sign of your guilt.

He follows your gaze, his expression unreadable. "You're not distracting me that easily," he says, his voice low and even, a subtle rumble that vibrates through the humid air of the bathroom. It’s a statement, but also a dare. A challenge laid bare in the space between you. 

He moves with a quiet grace that belies his muscular build, each step deliberate and measured. The tiles are cool beneath his bare feet as he closes the distance between you. “Look at me,” he commands, the request laced with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

You back away, a primal instinct taking over as you try to create distance, a buffer between his raw masculinity and the sudden vulnerability you feel. The cool, smooth surface of the door presses against your spine, the only barrier between you and escape. But escape from what, exactly? The question hangs in the air, thick and unspoken.

He stops in his tracks, respecting the boundary you've unconsciously set. A hint of amusement dances in his eyes, a flicker of knowing that sends a shiver down your spine. "Afraid I'll catch you in a lie?" he asks, his voice a soft challenge, a velvet-wrapped threat. 

The air crackles with unspoken tension. He takes another step, closing the gap, his body almost pressing against yours. You’re trapped, caught between the solid, unyielding door and the magnetic pull of his presence.

Your throat tightens, and you swallow hard, the sound amplified in the confined space. Your gaze involuntarily drops, snagged by the sight of his damp chest, the water droplets clinging to the sculpted planes of his abs like tiny, glittering jewels. He’s fresh from the shower, his skin gleaming, radiating a heat that seems to seep into your own. 

You try to look away, but it’s like staring at the sun – blinding, yet impossible to resist.

He notices your wandering gaze, the subtle widening of your eyes, the almost imperceptible intake of breath. A slow, knowing smirk curls his lips, a predator recognizing its prey. His voice drops to a low purr, a sound that resonates deep within you. "See something you like?" he asks, the words laced with playful arrogance. 

His hand comes up, not to touch, but to stake his claim on the space around you, resting on the door beside your head, caging you in with the casual ease of someone who knows his power. His other hand reaches out, his touch feather-light as he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, to acknowledge the desire that’s simmering beneath the surface.

“Caleb…” you warn, the word a breathless whisper, a plea for him to stop, even though a part of you doesn’t want him to.

"Mhm?" He hums, a sound of pure amusement that vibrates against your skin. His finger remains tilted on your chin, holding you captive, his lips only inches away from yours. The air between you crackles with unspoken promises. His voice drops to a whisper, a seductive murmur that sends shivers down your spine. "You're the one who showed up unannounced in my shower..." He intentionally leans forward just a tiny bit more, testing your boundaries, pushing you to the edge. 

You can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, smell the clean, fresh scent of soap mingled with his intoxicating natural musk.

Panic flares, a desperate need to break free from the intoxicating spell he’s weaving. You turn your head, the movement abrupt and jerky, right as his lips brush your cheek. It’s a near miss, a tantalizing tease that leaves you breathless and yearning.

He pulls back slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he notices your abrupt movement. "Missed by inches," he murmurs, his breath tickling your cheek, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps across your skin. 

He leans away from the door, giving you some space, a sliver of freedom, but keeping his proximity close enough that his damp skin still radiates warmth, a constant reminder of the intimacy you just shared.

You turn to look at him, your heart pounding against your ribs, trying to regain some semblance of control. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, the question barely audible, lost in the chaotic rhythm of your own breathing.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He counters, his eyes searching yours with a mix of curiosity and something else, something that makes your stomach flip. He raises his hand again, this time tracing the curve of your jaw with his thumb, a slow, deliberate caress that ignites a fire within you. "I'm just making sure you're not going to keep avoiding eye contact with me." The statement is a challenge, an invitation to engage, to stop hiding behind your carefully constructed walls.

You blush, the heat rising in your cheeks, betraying your carefully constructed composure. “I’m not…avoiding you…and…can you unlock the door so I can get out?” you stammer, the words tumbling out in a rush, a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation.

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk still playing on his lips, enjoying your flustered state. 

"Afraid of being alone with me?" he asks, the question laced with teasing mockery. But then, he relents, stepping aside and unlocking the door. "Here you go." He gestures towards the open door, a clear path to freedom, but he doesn't move away from it completely, keeping his body angled towards you, a silent promise of more.

You raise an eyebrow, mirroring his earlier expression, a spark of defiance flickering in your eyes. “That easy? I thought I will have to borrow your gun to shoot the lock.” The words are meant to be flippant, a way to deflect the intensity of the moment, but there’s also a grain of truth in them.

A laugh escapes him as he hears your joke, a deep, genuine sound that washes over you, easing the tension in your muscles. A real smile spreads across his face, transforming his features, making him look younger, more approachable. "You'd have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands," he says, still chuckling softly, the sound warm and intimate in the small space. 

His gaze flickers to your lips briefly, a fleeting moment of undeniable desire, before returning to your eyes, his smile lingering, a silent invitation.

This time you smirk, a slow, confident curve of your lips. “In love with it too much?” you challenge, pushing his buttons, daring him to reveal more.

"Damn right," he grins, his shoulders relaxing, the tension finally easing from his body. He unconsciously adjusts the towel lower on his hips, unknowingly giving you a better view of his sculpted abs, the movement casual, yet undeniably provocative. "You almost had me there with the shooting the lock thing." He chuckles again, the sound warm and inviting. If you were desperate enough to, you would probably do it but he knew you were bluffing this time.

Before he can predict your move, you lunge forward, a reckless impulse taking over. You run to take his gun, a daring act of defiance.

But before you can even grasp the gun, Caleb swiftly lunges forward with surprising speed, his wet feet slipping slightly on the bathroom mat. He regains his balance with effortless grace, using his evol to steady himself. 

He grabs your wrist just as your fingers brush against the cool metal of the gun, his grip firm but not painful. "Uh-uh," he chastises playfully, his voice a low rumble, a warning and an invitation all in one.

“I touched it,” you smirk, a triumphant glint in your eyes.

"You barely grazed it," He retorts, pulling his hand back slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. He watches your smirk, your unknowingly tempting body language, the way your chest rises and falls with each breath. 

God, you’re killing him. He swallows hard, struggling to maintain control. "You know stealing's wrong, right?" He adds teasingly, the words a lighthearted attempt to break the tension, to mask the desire that's raging within him.

You glance at his gun on the counter beneath the white towel, the cold steel a stark contrast to the domesticity of the setting. Your fingers twitch, yearning to close around the familiar weight, to reclaim a sense of control in this tense dance you've been locked in. You try to reach it again, stretching but he anticipates your move with a speed that borders on preternatural. He shifts his weight, a subtle adjustment that places his body squarely between you and the gun. 

"Nice try," he chuckles, the sound a low rumble that vibrates through the air. His eyes, usually guarded and watchful, are sparkling with amusement, a playful glint dancing in their depths. But beneath the surface, you catch a glimpse of something more intense, a smoldering heat that sends a shiver down your spine.

He keeps your wrist gently but firmly in his grasp, his fingers warm against your skin, preventing any further attempts. His touch is light, almost teasing, but the underlying strength is palpable. "You really want that thing?" he asks, his voice a husky whisper that seems to wrap around you.

You shrug, feigning indifference, though your heart is hammering against your ribs. "You're so protective of it. Might as well be your girlfriend." The words are laced with sarcasm, a desperate attempt to mask the turmoil swirling within you.

His lips twitch with suppressed laughter, the corners of his mouth lifting in a tantalizing curve. "Jealous?" he teases softly, his thumb unconsciously rubbing a slow circle against your wrist. The simple gesture sends a jolt of electricity through your veins, making it difficult to breathe. "Here," he says, surprising you by releasing your wrist and placing the gun within your easy reach. 

"See if you can steal it." He challenges, his eyes dropping to your lips briefly, a fleeting moment that feels like a brand against your skin.

Your eyes glint with challenge, a spark igniting within you. It's not just about the gun; it's about the game, the chase, the intoxicating pull that exists between the two of you. "No cheating," you say, your voice low and husky, mirroring his own. "We can't use our evols."

"Deal," he whispers, a competitive edge creeping into his voice. He purposefully places the gun just slightly out of immediate reach, as if daring you to try. Then, he steps back, giving you space, ready for your move. His posture is relaxed, almost nonchalant, but his eyes are laser-focused on you, tracking every movement, every breath. They spark with excitement, the thrill of competition mixed with something else, something far more dangerous, that's becoming harder and harder to ignore.

With a swiftness that belies your earlier feigned indifference, you sidestep him, your body a blur of motion. You feint to the left, drawing his attention, then pivot sharply to the right, using the momentum to deliver a swift and precise kick with your elbow, sending the gun spinning into the air. You lunge forward, reaching out, your fingers closing around the cold, hard steel just as it begins to fall.

"-Shit," he curses under his breath, impressed despite himself. He moves to block your escape route, reacting purely on instinct, but in his haste, he ends up accidentally catching your waist in his arms. 

The air rushes from your lungs as his hands wrap around you, pulling you against him. For a moment, time seems to stand still. 

You're practically chest to chest, his rough breathing audible in your ear, mingling with your own ragged gasps. His heat radiates through your clothes, a tangible force that threatens to melt away your resolve. "You fucking cheated," he accuses, his voice a low growl against your skin.

“How? I said, no evols. Just our hands.” You fight to keep your voice steady, to project an air of nonchalance that you certainly don't feel.

"...Your foot," he mutters, his gaze flicking down to your feet before returning to your eyes, his expression a mixture of frustration and grudging admiration. His hands remain wrapped around your waist, his thumbs brushing against the curve of your hips. The contact is innocent enough, but the sensation is anything but. 

He swallows hard, his mind suddenly filled with inappropriate images, a dangerous dream landscape of him kissing you like he always wanted to and cross that line for once. "Give it back," he demands, his voice strained, barely a whisper.

You smirk, a slow, deliberate curve of your lips that you know drives him crazy with annoyance and amusement. You reach behind you, intending to stash the gun out of reach, but of course, he anticipates your move. He uses his gravity evol, the familiar force field shimmering almost invisibly around you both.

As you try to place the gun behind you, Caleb's gravity evol kicks in, the subtle pressure intensifying, making it impossible for you to move the gun away from his reach. You're caught in his invisible web, your movements restricted, your will subtly bent to his. He leans in slightly, his breath warm against your temple, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through your very core. 

"Not so fast," he murmurs, the words a promise and a threat all rolled into one. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you a fraction closer, eliminating the already minuscule space between you.

“Uh…not fair,” you grit your teeth, the words forced out as you struggle against his evol, your muscles straining against the invisible force. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension coiled tight within him, mirroring the tension that's gripping you.

"All's fair in love and war," he murmurs, his face inches from yours. His eyes, dark and intense, flick down to your lips again, lingering there for a moment too long. The air crackles with unspoken desires, with the weight of years of suppressed longing. He reaches around you slowly, deliberately, his chest pressing against your back as he plucks the gun effortlessly from your hand with his other. 

The contact sends a jolt of electricity through your body, igniting a fire that threatens to consume you both.

He chuckles, the sound a low, throaty rumble that sends shivers down your spine, the gun now back in his possession, safely out of your reach. "You touched it because you cheated with your foot," he argues, his arms still wrapped possessively around your waist, effectively trapping you against him. 

He pulls you a little closer, as if testing the limits, his gravity evol making it increasingly difficult for you to step away, to create any semblance of distance.

“Caleb…stop it,” you hiss, desperately trying to regain control of the situation, of yourself. The proximity is intoxicating, too close, too dangerous.

"Stop what?" he asks innocently, even though his grip on your waist tightens slightly and his breath is warm against your ear, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps across your skin. He knows exactly what he's doing, and the smirk playing on his lips gives him away. "I'm just holding you so you don't try to steal my gun again." The lie hangs in the air between you, a fragile shield against the storm of emotions threatening to erupt.

You glare, fighting to maintain eye contact, but your gaze is drawn, almost against your will, to the silver dog tag chain nestled between his pecs, rising and falling with each breath. Your gift for him. A silent promise of safe return.

He feels your stare silver necklace glinting under the light, a tangible reminder of your connection. His mind wanders back to the day you gave it to him when he left for DAA, engraved with a little red apple and the words "When you come back". A lump forms in his throat, a wave of tenderness washing over him. His hands on your waist flex unconsciously, pulling you closer, as if wanting to erase the distance that has always separated you.

His eyes soften as he glances down at the dog tags, remembering the care and emotion behind your gift. The playful smirk fades from his lips as he realizes how close you are, your bodies almost melding together in the confined space. 

He clears his throat nervously, the sound amplified by the sudden shift in atmosphere. "You giving me that glare because you lost, or..."

"I will get that gun," you hiss, your voice a low, determined rumble. The air crackles with your competitive spirit, a challenge laid bare.

A low laugh escapes him, his chest vibrating against your back, sending shivers down your spine. "Is that so?" He challenges softly, his grip on your waist loosening slightly, but not enough for you to escape easily. His eyes spark with a mix of amusement and something more intense, a hunger that makes your breath hitch in your throat. "You want it that bad? Come and get it."

"Caleb…I swear…" you start, a warning laced with a hint of exasperation. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, a dangerous warmth that threatens to melt your resolve.

"You swear what?" His lips quirk up in a teasing smirk as he senses your growing frustration. With deliberate slowness, he slips the gun behind his back, keeping it just out of your reach, a silent promise of the game to come. "You're welcome to try," he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave, sending another wave of shivers through you.

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to resonate with his own evol, the unique energy that surrounds him, a key to unlocking his defenses. The air hums with anticipation.

"Smart," he whispers approvingly, feeling your evol activate, a tangible connection forming between you. Normally, this would be a fair competition, a test of skill and power. But with his arms still wrapped around your waist, trapping you against him, he's enjoying this too much to let you win easily. Instead of resisting your gravity pull, he uses it to his advantage, subtly shifting his weight, drawing you even closer. "You feel that?"

"Just a bit," you grit your teeth, focusing on the task at hand. "I will have it." The heat of his body is a distraction, a tantalizing temptation that wars with your determination.

He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your neck, making the hairs stand on end. 

"Is that a promise?" he teases, his grip on you tightening just enough to make it clear he's not going to let you have the gun easily. 

He shifts slightly, using his own evol against you, pulling you even closer until you can feel the hard planes of his chest against your back.

"Caleb!" you exclaim, a mixture of annoyance and something akin to pleasure coloring your tone. You can feel your resolve crumbling under the weight of his nearness.

"Too slow," He laughs, feeling your gravity push against him half-heartedly. He realizes you're trying not to push too hard, afraid of hurting him. His smirk widens, a predatory gleam entering his eyes. "You're not trying hard enough," He taunts, "Here, I'll make it easier."

You bite back a retort, your mind racing, searching for a way to break free from his intoxicating hold.

He shifts his body slightly, giving you a small opening, a sliver of hope in your current predicament. But instead of making it easy for you to grab the gun, he uses the opportunity to lean in even closer, his lips almost brushing against your ear, his breath ghosting over your skin. "Come on," he whispers, his voice low and challenging, husky with desire. "Show me what you've got."

You shiver, despite yourself, and swallow hard. The nearness of him is intoxicating, a potent cocktail of danger and desire. You decide to move, channeling all your energy into a sudden burst of momentum.

"There," He whispers softly as you move, finally putting some real effort into your evol. His smirk widens, a glint of admiration in his eyes. You're fast, he'll give you that. 

He sees an opening at your sudden move and takes it, his reflexes honed from years of training. He whirls around, mirroring your resonance pull, creating a vortex of energy between you.

"Hey!" The gun gets floated in the air above your head, spinning gently in the space between you. Since you were short, you couldn’t get it, your fingers grasping at empty air.

"Gotcha," he laughs triumphantly, watching the gun float effortlessly towards his hand from above. He catches it with ease, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He looks down at you, still floating about a foot off the ground, your arms stretching up to try and reach the gun, your brow furrowed in frustration.

"Caleb! It will not kill you if you give it to me," you plead, your voice tinged with a playful desperation.

He laughs heartily, his chest shaking with mirth. "And miss out on this?" He asks, gesturing to your futile struggle, his eyes sparkling with delight. "No way." He holds the gun just out of your reach, his arm extended high above you, a tantalizing prize. "Say please."

You pull a deep breath, steeling your resolve. You decide to use your other card, the one that always works, the one that exploits his soft spot. He always falls for that. Your eyes get sad, a well-practiced expression of vulnerability, and you pout, your lower lip trembling slightly. "You don't love me anymore," you say, your voice barely a whisper, laced with mock sorrow.

"Damn it," He mutters softly, his expression instantaneously softening, the playful gleam replaced with a flicker of guilt. He lowers the gun slightly, his eyes searching your face, his thumb caressing the cool metal. "You know that's not true," He says softly, his voice losing its competitive edge, replaced with a tender warmth. "Here," He lifts his chin towards the gun, floating it gently within your reach, surrendering to your carefully constructed emotional trap.

You lunge at it, your fingers wrapping tightly around the cool steel.

"Too easy," He laughs, a hint of exasperation in his voice, as you snatch the gun out of the air. He watches your serious expression, your pout gone, replaced with determined eyes, a triumphant glint shining in their depths. 

He swallows tightly, mesmerized by your transformation. "You cheated," He accuses softly, his competitive nature re-igniting slightly. "Using those puppy eyes."

You smirk, a mischievous glint in your eyes, as you look at the big black weapon in your hand, savoring your victory.

He shakes his head in amused disbelief, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. "I fall for that every time," he murmurs, watching you proudly display your prize, his gaze lingering on your face, admiring your cunning and determination. Caleb spreads his hands in mock surrender, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "Congrats, you win this round."

You grin, feeling a surge of satisfaction course through you. "Yes."

The playful glint in Caleb's eyes is disarming, even as he playfully mocks, "Don't get too cocky," his voice a low rumble that vibrates against your skin. He takes a step back, a gentlemanly concession of space, yet the air crackles with unresolved tension. "You know I won't go easy on you next time." A pause hangs in the air, the silence amplifying the intimacy of the moment. His expression softens, a flicker of something deeper replacing the teasing. "You know what?"

"Mmm?" you hum, the sound a question and an invitation.

"You've gotten really good," Caleb says, the admiration in his voice a stark contrast to his earlier jesting. It’s an honest, unguarded compliment, a moment of genuine respect that makes your heart flutter. "I swear, in a few years, you'll probably be better than me." He chuckles softly, shaking his head as if marveling at the impossible. "Lucky for me, I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve."

A genuine smile blossoms across your face, warming your cheeks. "Do you think so?" you ask, the words barely a whisper, laced with a mixture of disbelief and hope. You know you were pretty good hunter but be better than him who is taller and stronger than you? That was a big compliment.

"Duh," he grins widely, that competitive spark reigniting in his eyes. He loves that you're humble, your lack of ego only fueling his desire to push you, to see how far you can go. "You're like a sponge. You learn something once, you got it. I swear, you're scary good." He laughs softly, a sound that always manages to send shivers down your spine. "Here," he says suddenly, reaching into a nearby basket. 

Without warning, he throws a small dagger in your direction.

Years of training kick in, instinct taking over. You react without thinking, your hand shooting out, effortlessly catching the dagger mid-air. Simultaneously, you set the gun you had been holding down on the counter.

He whistles appreciatively, his brows raised in genuine surprise. "Damn, you're fast today." The playful teasing returns, but there's an undercurrent of something more, a respect for your skill that he can't quite hide. He moves closer, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. His voice drops lower, becoming a husky murmur that sends a shiver snaking down your spine. "And you caught it perfectly." He reaches out to take the dagger, his fingers purposefully brushing against yours in the handoff, a deliberate act of provocation.

A wave of awareness washes over you. You instinctively hide the dagger behind your back, the cool metal a reassuring weight in your hand. It's then that you realize you're backed against the bathroom counter, the cool tile a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Caleb. 

He notices your realization, the triumphant smirk that spreads across his face a clear indication that he's exactly where he wants to be. 

He takes another step closer, effectively trapping you. His voice drops to a teasing whisper, a low rumble that seems to vibrate through your very bones. "Cornered already?" He leans in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours, a captivating gaze that holds you captive. "You know, for someone who just won a gun off me, you seem pretty vulnerable right now."

"You always do this," you scoff, the word laced with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. "Play and tease me."

"And you always fall for it," he retorts, his face just inches from yours. You can feel his warm breath on your skin, the scent of him filling your senses. "It's cute." He reaches behind you, his body pressing against yours, a blatant act of intimacy designed to fluster you. His fingers brush against your back as he reaches for the knife you're holding, the deliberate contact sending a jolt of electricity through you.

You tighten your grip on the dagger, a stubborn refusal to relinquish control. The game is on, and you're not about to back down.

He feels you tightening your grip, a smug smile tugging at his lips. He loves this, the push and pull, the battle of wills that always seems to erupt between you. "Let go of the knife," he whispers, his eyes locked in the knife reflected in the mirror behind you. He can feel your knuckles turning white as you refuse to loosen your grip. "Last chance."

"And if I say no?" you breathe, the words barely audible, laced with a mixture of defiance and apprehension. You can't stop this cat and mouse play, this dangerous dance that always leaves you breathless and wanting more.

He chuckles darkly, a low, predatory sound that sends shivers down your spine. His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, "Then I'll have to take it from you." His free hand comes up to rest on the counter beside your hips, caging you in, making it impossible to escape. "And trust me, you won't like how I do it."

You shiver involuntarily, a reaction to his words and the heat radiating from his body. Leaning back, his bare chest presses against yours, the solid muscle almost crushing you.

He feels your shiver, his smile widening mischievously. He straightens his arms, locking them beside your hips and pushing you further against the counter, intensifying the feeling of being trapped. "Last warning," he whispers, his voice low and commanding, sending a thrill of fear and excitement through you. "Open your hand."

"No…" you whisper, the single word a testament to your stubbornness.

He hears the defiance in your whisper, a surge of frustration and determination rising within him. Without another word, he uses his arm to press your hand against the counter, the knife still gripped tightly in your fist. With his other hand, he grabs your wrist, applying firm pressure. "Open. Your. Hand."

"You could easily cheat you know? Why are you adamant to take it directly from my hand?" you ask, your voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and defiance.

"Because I want to see how far you'll push me," he admits, his voice gruff, the honesty unexpected. He applies more pressure to your wrist, his other arm still pressing your hand flat against the counter. "Now open your damn hand before I break your wrist to get the knife out."

You gasp, the threat surprisingly intense.

Seeing your gasp, Caleb pauses, realizing the intensity in his words. He is a colonel in the military, used to commanding, never meaning to threaten you. His grip loosens slightly, but he doesn't release you entirely from the cage of his arms. A smirk tugs at his lips as he leans in closer, his voice lowering to a teasing murmur. "Gotcha."

"Did you just fucking threaten me?" you hiss, the anger bubbling to the surface.

He hears the anger in your hiss and feels a strange mix of amusement and unease. He leans in even closer, his lips barely an inch from yours. "Maybe," he whispers back, a challenge clear in his voice. "What are you gonna do about it?"

You glare, trying to mask the effect he has on you.

He holds your glare, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners as he tries to suppress a smile. He can feel the tension radiating off you, making him enjoy this power dynamic a little too much. He flexes his arm, pressing your hand flatter against the counter. "Last chance,"

"Don't use your Colonel voice on me!" you snap, the outburst a testament to his control over you.

He feels a jolt at your snap, the Colonel voice slipping out automatically. He blinks, breaking eye contact for a moment, the memory of his past life a sharp reminder of the man he used to be. When he looks back at you, his expression is softer, almost apologetic. "Fuck, I'm sorry," he murmurs, his grip on your wrist loosening completely, his regret palpable.

You breathe heavily, trying to regain your composure.

He sees the heavy breathing, taking it as a sign that he's getting to you, that the game is still in play. He decides to push his luck, leaning in closer until his forehead rests against yours. "Open your hand," he commands, his voice dropping lower, taking on that authoritative tone again. "Or I'll…"

"What? Restrain me?" you challenge, your voice laced with a mixture of fear and excitement.

"Mm, something like that," he murmurs, his eyes locked with yours. He can feel his hands itching to grab your arm and pin it behind your back, to take control completely. "You leave me no choice but to use force," he whispers, his fingers slowly inching back towards your wrist, as if testing the waters.

"Caleb…" you breathe, the word a warning and a plea.

"Too late," he whispers, his hands moving quickly. He wraps his arm around your wrist and pulls it behind your back, trapping it between your shoulder blades. He steps closer, caging you against the counter with his body, making escape impossible. "Open your hand," he orders, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

"You goober!" you exclaim, the childish insult a desperate attempt to break the tension.

He chuckles at your insult, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Keep talking back and see what happens," he murmurs, his free hand coming up to rest on the counter beside your other arm, effectively trapping you. "One more chance to open your hand before things get... interesting."

“Interesting?” you breathe, the word catching in your throat, a strange heat blooming in your chest. It's a question, but also a confession. Suddenly, this confrontation, this tense standoff, feels…different. You don’t know why you're feeling this way. The adrenaline, maybe? Or the way his eyes are locked on yours, intense and unwavering. Whatever it is, it's undeniably a turn-on.

He notices the subtle shift in your breathing, the almost imperceptible tremor in your hands. He sees the way your eyes dilate, dark pools reflecting the fire that's beginning to flicker within you. He realizes that you’re not just angry or defiant anymore. 

A slow, knowing smile spreads across his face, a predatory curve that sends a shiver down your spine. He leans in even closer, the heat of his body radiating against yours, his lips almost brushing against your ear. 

"Are you enjoying this?" he murmurs, the question a low, seductive rumble.

“No…” you hiss, the denial weak, unconvincing even to your own ears. The fight seems to have drained from you, replaced by a strange, unsettling vulnerability.

He can hear the tremor in your voice, the subtle waver that betrays your true feelings. He feels the way your body is pressing against the cool countertop, trapped between his unyielding arms. He takes advantage of this newfound weakness, his body shifting slightly, a calculated maneuver that tightens his hold. 

His arm around your wrist pulls your arm up higher between your shoulder blades, forcing you to arch your back, accentuating the curve of your breasts against your shirt. The position is undeniably compromising, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. "Last chance," he breathes, the words a promise and a threat.

“Last chance…” you mock, mimicking his deep voice with a forced bravado that doesn't quite reach your eyes. You glare at him, attempting to recapture the anger that fueled you just moments ago. But the heat in his gaze melts your resolve, leaving you feeling exposed and strangely thrilled.

He smirks at your mimicry, enjoying the playful banter, the dangerous game you’re both playing. "You're playing a dangerous game," he murmurs, his voice a silken caress that belies the steel beneath. His hand on the counter, the one not holding your wrist captive, slides closer to yours, inching its way toward your trembling fingers. His thumb brushes against the back of your hand, a light, fleeting touch that’s almost teasing, sending sparks of electricity through your veins. "I could make you open it," he says, the words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.

“Guess what? With your evol?” you retort, trying to sound confident, but your voice cracks slightly, betraying your inner turmoil.It was a desperate attempt to regain control, to steer the conversation back to safer territory.

"Exactly," he whispers back, his breath warm against your skin. His thumb traces a small circle on the back of your hand, a deliberate, hypnotic motion that draws your attention, stealing your focus. Your hand twitches slightly at the sudden sensation, giving away your vulnerability, the way his touch affects you. He watches your reaction closely, savoring the moment, drawing power from your response. "Then again, I might use something other than my evol..." he adds, the words laced with a suggestive promise that makes your heart leap in your chest.

You gasp, the sound escaping your lips before you can stop it, and your eyes widen in surprise, searching his. Fear and anticipation war within you, a confusing mix of emotions that threatens to overwhelm you. 

"What do you mean?" you ask, the question a breathless whisper, barely audible above the pounding of your heart.

His expression turns intense, a dark, smoldering gaze that holds you captive. It’s dangerous, predatory, and utterly thrilling. 

He leans in closer, invading your personal space, until his lips are nearly touching yours, the heat of his breath a tangible presence against your skin. His voice drops to a husky whisper, a seductive murmur that sends shivers down your spine. "You really want to know?" he asks, intentionally blowing a small, warm breath across your lips, teasing you, testing your limits. "I could just..."

Your breath hitches in your throat, your lungs seizing as your body betrays you. The world around you seems to fade away, the sounds of the bathroom blurring into a distant hum. All that exists is him, the intoxicating scent of his skin, the heat of his gaze, the promise of something forbidden. 

Your eyelashes flutter shut, surrendering to the moment, inviting him in.

He waits for a moment, relishing in the effect he's having on you, the power he holds over you. He feels the tremor that runs through your body, the rapid pulse at your throat. He knows he's won. 

Then, without warning, he closes the distance between you, his lips claiming yours in a searing, electrifying kiss. His hand, the one that was tormenting your hand only moments ago, moves to tangle in your hair, gripping the strands possessively, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, demanding a response.

A whimper escapes your lips, a small, involuntary sound of surrender, as your fingers loosen their grip on the knife. The metal clatters against the tile floor, the sound echoing in the sudden silence, a symbol of your defeat.

He hears the knife fall, the sound like a starting gun, and a satisfied growl rumbles in his chest, a primal sound of victory. The kiss intensifies, his tongue sliding against yours, tasting, exploring, staking his claim. 

He breaks the kiss only to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin, igniting a firestorm of sensation. His arm around your wrist tightens possessively, a steel band that keeps you trapped, at his mercy.

“Caleb…” you gasp, your voice breathy and weak, barely a whisper. The sound of his name on your lips feels like a betrayal, a confession of your desire.

"Shh," he murmurs against your neck, his teeth gently sinking into the flesh, a playful bite that sends shivers down your spine. His other hand slides down from the counter, around your hip, and grips your bottom possessively, pulling you closer, molding your body against his. "No more talking," he commands softly, the words a velvet promise laced with steel, before starting to lift you onto the counter, claiming you.

Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic drumbeat that threatens to drown out all other sounds. You can feel his strength as he lifts you, the way his muscles flex beneath his skin. You wrap your legs around his waist instinctively, clinging to him for support, surrendering to the moment.

He can feel your heart racing against his chest, mirroring his own frantic rhythm, as he lifts you onto the counter, stepping between your legs to keep you trapped, a willing prisoner in his embrace. His hands roam your body, touching and exploring in a way he's never allowed himself to before, igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you both. He presses close, his growing erection evident against your core through the thin barrier of the towel, a tangible reminder of his desire.

“Caleb…” you whisper again, his name a plea, a prayer, a promise of what's to come.

He silences you with another kiss, this one more demanding and dominant than the last, a raw expression of his hunger. His tongue pushes into your mouth, claiming you completely, possessing you with every touch. His hands continue to roam, exploring the curves of your body, igniting a fire with every caress. 

One hand slides up to cup your breast, squeezing gently through your shirt, teasing the sensitive nipple, while the other grips your thigh, pulling you even closer, erasing the remaining space between you, preparing you for the storm that's about to break.

You allow yourself to moan, the sweet, vulnerable sound catapulting straight to his core. You feel the immediate result of your surrender as his erection presses harder against your thigh. Instinct takes over, and you find yourself pulling him closer by the nape of his neck, your fingers tangling in the short hairs at his hairline. He's so tall, you have to lift your hips off the counter, practically bending him in half to maintain the fervent connection of your lips.

He groans into the kiss, a deep, guttural sound that vibrates against your own mouth as you pull him closer, bending him down to accommodate your smaller stature. The altered angle presses his hardness even more firmly against your center, igniting a fresh wave of heat that makes you moan again, a low, primal sound escaping your lips. 

His hand, which had been tentatively resting on your waist, slides upwards, seeking the bare skin beneath your shirt. He pushes the fabric upwards, urgency lacing his touch, as his other hand squeezes your thigh, almost desperately.

You pant, your breath coming in ragged gasps, too overwhelmed by this sudden and dramatic turn of events to form a coherent thought. The world has narrowed down to the feel of his mouth on yours, the hard press of his body against yours, and the frantic rhythm of your accelerated heartbeats.

He breaks the kiss briefly, reluctantly, to trail his lips down the sensitive curve of your neck. He nuzzles his face between your breasts, his breath hot and damp against your skin, as he tries to push your shirt up further. 

"Lift your arms," he growls, the command rough and edged with a desperate, unsatisfied desire. He needs to see you, touch you more, now. The burning need is consuming him.

You gulp, your throat suddenly dry, and obediently lift your arms, your movements slightly jerky and uncoordinated.

In one swift, decisive motion, he pulls your shirt over your head, casting it carelessly to the side. You stand exposed in just your bra, the cool air raising goosebumps on your skin, but the chill is quickly replaced by a searing heat as his eyes darken with undisguised desire as he looks you over. His gaze lingers on the curve of your breasts, the swell of your hips, before finally returning to meet your eyes. His hands, as if drawn by an invisible force, immediately go to your waist, his thumbs tracing the delicate line of your hip bones. 

"Fuck," he mutters, the word a raw, reverent sound, as he leans down to place open-mouthed kisses between your breasts, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

You moan again, a longer, more drawn-out sound this time, as you arch your back instinctively, offering him more. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, clinging to him as if he's the only thing anchoring you to reality. 

"What's happening?" you manage to gasp out, the question barely audible.

"Shut up," he snaps, but there's no real heat or anger behind the words. He's too far gone, too lost in the feeling of your body against his lips, the taste of your skin, the intoxicating scent of you filling his senses. 

His fingers, emboldened by his growing passion, hook into the bottom of your bra, and with surprising ease, he unhooks it. He pushes the material aside, revealing your bare breasts to his hungry gaze. He pauses for a moment, just to admire the sight, before his hands cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples.

“Caleb…please…” you say, your voice thick with a mixture of arousal and confusion. You reach up, your hands trembling slightly, and cup his face, your thumbs tracing the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

Caleb pauses, his intense gaze softening as you cup his face. He leans into your touch, a visible shudder running through him as he closes his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the feeling of your skin against his. "Please what?" he asks, his voice low and rough, the question laced with a raw vulnerability. 

One hand comes up to cover yours on his cheek, his fingers interlacing with yours as he holds your hand against his skin, while the other gently squeezes your bare breast, thumbing the nipple in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

“Why are we…” you trail off, unable to articulate the jumble of thoughts and feelings swirling within you.

"Because," he answers simply, his voice husky with desire, leaning down to take one of your breasts into his mouth. He suckles gently at first, teasing and tantalizing, before his grip tightens and he begins to suckle more firmly, drawing a sharp intake of breath from you. His hand, the one not holding yours, slides down your side to your waistband, his fingers fumbling with the button of your jeans. "We're always supposed to," he murmurs around your breast, the words muffled but clear, his fingers finally succeeding in unbuttoning your jeans.

“Why?” you ask again, the question a desperate plea for understanding.

He looks up at you, his eyes intense and unwavering, as he unbuttons your jeans, his fingers hooking into the waistband. 

"Because we're always supposed to be more than friends," he explains, his voice muffled against your breast. "Because every time I see you laughing with someone else, I get jealous. Because every time someone looks at you for too long, I want to punch them."

You swallow hard, your throat tightening with emotion. “That's why…you said you will never get a girlfriend?”

He nods against your chest, the movement small and hesitant, before standing up straight and pulling the rest of your clothes off, leaving you sitting bare before him. "I never wanted a girlfriend," he admits, his voice raw and honest, his eyes fixed on yours. "I never wanted anyone but you."

Your heart skips a beat, a wild, erratic rhythm taking over your chest. “Since when…? When we met or…”

He swallows hard, his eyes flickering down your body, lingering on the curve of your breasts and the swell of your hips, before meeting your gaze again. "Since we were kids," he says softly, the words barely audible above the frantic pounding of your heart. 

He steps closer, closing the remaining distance between you, until he's standing between your legs. "Remember when we used to play hide and seek?" he asks, his fingers hooking around your thighs, his touch sending shivers up your spine.

You nod, a small, involuntary movement. “You always somehow found me.”

"Because I always looked for you," he explains, his thumbs rubbing the inside of your thighs, his gaze unwavering. 

"Remember when you scraped your knee on that field trip, and I carried you home?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours, as if looking for confirmation, or perhaps forgiveness. When you nod again, remembering the incident vividly, he continues, "Remember I told I will always be by your side?”

You nod again, feeling a lump forming in your throat. The memory is sharp and clear, the feeling of his arms around you, the concern etched on his face, as real now as it was then.

Caleb leans in closer, his voice dropping to almost a whisper as he continues, "That wasn't just something friends say. I meant it. Every promise, every joke shared, every bump and bruise I tended to - it was all me saying 'I'm in love with you' without actually saying it."

Your heart actually swells, filling your chest until it feels like it might burst. You struggle to breathe, the air caught in your throat, as the weight of his words settles upon you. This is it. This is the culmination of years of unspoken feelings, of hidden glances and secret longings.

He watched, his gaze intense and unwavering, as a kaleidoscope of emotions played across your face – surprise, disbelief, a hesitant joy that threatened to bloom into something more. He saw the question in your eyes, the silent plea for reassurance, and it fueled the courage that had been simmering within him for what felt like an eternity.

His own heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the years of longing he had so carefully concealed. Each stolen glance, each casual touch, each shared laugh had been etched onto his soul, fueling a secret fire that now threatened to consume him. He had built walls around his heart, fortifying it against the vulnerability of love, but you, with your infectious laughter and unwavering spirit, had chipped away at those defenses, brick by agonizing brick.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached for you, his hands trembling slightly as they spanned your waist. The touch was electric, a jolt that sent shivers down your spine and stole the breath from your lungs. With a strength born of years of suppressed desire, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The heat of your body pressed against him was intoxicating, a promise of connection that he could no longer deny himself.

"I'm in love with you," he said, the words finally free after years of restraint. There was no fanfare, no grand pronouncements, just a simple, honest declaration that resonated with the weight of his unspoken feelings. He watched, his breath suspended, as the words settled between you, waiting for your reaction, for the answer that would either shatter him or set him free.

Your fingers traced the line of his jaw, tilting his chin up so you could meet his gaze. The question hung in the air, unspoken but palpable. "That's why you wrote my name on that graffiti wall by the basketball court? As a wish, when we wrote our wishes?"

He continued to walk you further into the shower's embrace, feeling the slick tile beneath his bare feet. Without breaking eye contact, he used his evol to release the knot of the towel cinched around his hips. It fell to the wet floor, discarded like the pretense he had carried for so long.

The warm water pulsed against your skin, a comforting weight that seemed to ground you as the world tilted on its axis. Caleb cupped your face with his hands, his thumbs gently stroking your cheekbones. 

He looked at you, really looked at you, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that left you breathless. Unspoken words swirled within those depths, echoes of old wishes and long-held dreams.

"Yes," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against your skin. "I wished for you every time."

He gently lowered you to the shower floor, the cool tile a startling contrast to the heat that radiated from his body. Kneeling before you, he took your hand in his, his touch reverent and tender. He brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against them.

"You don't have to say anything right now," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving yours, searching for a flicker of understanding, a sign of reciprocation. "Just…just let me love you for now, okay?"

You could only nod, the gesture small and uncertain, but enough.

His lips curved into a gentle smile, a smile that reached his eyes and banished the shadows that had haunted them for so long. He knew how rare it was for you to grant silence, how you usually filled every space with your vibrant energy and quick wit. Your quiet acquiescence was a gift, a fragile offering that he would cherish.

"Always wanted to know what your lips tasted like under the shower," he said softly, his voice laced with a playful desire that eased the tension in the air. He slid closer, his hips brushing against yours, tilting your chin with his fingers, his gaze dropping to your mouth. "Mind if I find out?"

A spark of your old self flickered in your eyes, a hint of the playful banter that defined your friendship. "Oh…now are you asking permission after you manhandled me?" You raised an eyebrow, a challenging glint in your gaze.

He laughed, a deep, husky sound that resonated through you. "Too late for that," he pointed out, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. His hands slid down to your behind, his fingers gently kneading the curves of your flesh. "Answer the question, smartass." He nuzzled your neck, the warm breath against your skin sending shivers dancing down your spine. "Can I kiss you under the shower?"

Another nod, this one more decisive, more eager. The anticipation was a tangible thing, a vibrating energy that hummed between you.

And then his lips were on yours, gentle at first, a tentative exploration of familiar territory. But the gentleness quickly gave way to a deeper hunger, a raw need that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long. His lips became demanding, coaxing your mouth open, inviting his tongue to slide in and taste you. 

The warm water rained down on you both, a sensuous curtain that veiled you from the world, mixing with the heat of his kiss. He sighed into your mouth, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure, his hands squeezing your backside possessively, drawing you closer, closer, until there was no space left between you. "Finally," he breathed against your lips.

In that single word, you heard the depth of his longing, the flicker of fear, the sting of jealousy, all woven together with the raw, undeniable thread of love. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a testament to the years of suppressed desire and unspoken emotions.

He finally broke the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as he caught his breath, his chest heaving. "I've imagined this so many times," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion, raw and vulnerable. "You, me, under the shower, finally together." He kissed you again, deeper this time, pouring all his pent-up feelings into the kiss, a desperate plea for reciprocation, a silent vow of devotion.

You smiled into the kiss, a genuine, heartfelt smile that radiated through every cell of your being. It was a smile born of relief, of joy, of the burgeoning realization that your own secret feelings were finally being mirrored back at you.

He smiled back, his eyes shining with a happiness that banished the shadows and revealed the man you had always known was hidden beneath the surface. He stood up, pulling you up with him, his hands roaming possessively over your wet body, lingering on the curve of your waist, the swell of your hips.

"Let me wash you," he said, his voice husky with desire, picking up the bottle of body wash and squeezing a generous amount onto a waiting loofah. "All over."

You giggled, the sound light and carefree, a stark contrast to the intensity of the moment. "So now you’re my sweet Caleb and not Colonel Caleb?"

He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine, filling the small space with a comforting intimacy. "Only you get to see this side of me," he said softly, running the loofah gently over your shoulders, his touch careful and tender. "Colonel Caleb is for everyone else." 

He leaned down to kiss your shoulder, his lips lingering against your skin, his hands tracing slow, deliberate circles as he began to wash you.

You sighed and leaned against him, letting the warmth of his body and the gentle caress of the loofah soothe your senses. 

The water continued to pulse around you, washing away the doubts and fears, leaving only the raw, undeniable connection that bound you together.

"You know you're making it really hard for me to just wash you instead of-" He paused, clearing his throat, his voice suddenly thick with desire. "You're killing me here," he murmured, nipping gently at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. His hands trailed down your sides, lingering just under your breasts, his fingers tracing the delicate curve. "Should I continue washing?"

"You already stripped me naked and dragged me into the shower," you pointed out, a playful challenge in your voice, a subtle invitation in your eyes.

He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through you. "Touché," he said, his hands finally moving to cup your breasts, his thumbs circling your hardening nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. "I guess I can skip the washing part." He pressed his hips against your backside, letting you feel his growing arousal, a tangible expression of the desire that consumed him.

You moaned, the sound muffled against his shoulder, feeling the hard length of him pressed against your ass.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hands tightening on your breasts as you wiggled against him, your movements only fueling the fire that burned between you. "You're driving me crazy." He spun you around, pinning you against the shower wall, his eyes blazing with a raw, primal need. "I need to taste you," he said hoarsely, dropping to his knees.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry, as you looked down at him. He was tall enough that his face was eye level with your tummy, his gaze intense and unwavering.

Caleb pressed a quick kiss to your belly button before trailing his lips lower, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place. "I've thought about this moment even more than kissing you," he confessed, his breath hot against your core, sending shivers of anticipation through your body. "Want to eat you out until you're screaming my name."

You whimpered, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The anticipation was almost unbearable, the promise of pleasure a tantalizing lure that threatened to shatter your carefully constructed composure.

He smirks up at you, loving the effect he's having. "Brace yourself, sweetheart," he warns playfully before diving in, his mouth covering your clit as his tongue flicks rapidly over the sensitive bud. He moans at your taste, the vibrations sending shockwaves through you.

“Caleb!”

He hums in satisfaction, the sound vibrating against your most sensitive spot. "Mmm, just like I imagined," he murmurs against you, not breaking his rhythm. He slides one hand up to your breast, teasing your nipple while the other grips your thigh, pulling it over his shoulder for better access.

You almost come from the sight. This sweet powerful man who was always with you through the years was actually kneeling in front of you and eating your pussy. It was a fantasy you'd nurtured in secret, a forbidden bloom in the garden of your mind. 

You never tried to imagine it, respecting your friendship and bond with him but you always wondered what if….

Now, here it was, a vibrant, tangible reality. The contrast between the gruff exterior he often projected and the exquisite tenderness of his current ministrations was almost too much to bear.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust and something more profound. "You have no idea how many nights I've jerked off thinking about this," he admits, his voice muffled against your thigh. The raw honesty in his confession both shocks and thrills you. 

To know you've occupied his thoughts in such a primal way, to realize the depth of his desire… it ignites a fire within you, hotter than anything you've ever known. He dives back in, his tongue working faster, more insistently.

You moan as you grab his hair. The feel of his thick, dark hair between your fingers is intoxicating. You tug gently, urging him closer, desperate for more. The sensations are building, swirling, threatening to consume you.

He growls possessively, the sound rumbling against your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. He stands up abruptly, lifting you so that your legs wrap around his waist. "Need to be inside you," he declares, his voice firm with need. "Now." The urgency in his tone is electrifying. You feel your own desire mirroring his, a desperate hunger that can only be sated by the joining of your bodies.

You bite your lip. The anticipation is almost unbearable. You've waited so long for this moment, dreamed of it countless times even if it’s wrong. To finally be here, on the precipice of intimacy with Caleb, is both terrifying and exhilarating.

He takes your silence as agreement. 

"Damn," he mutters, positioning himself at your entrance. He looks at you, making sure this is okay. He's big - almost too big - and he doesn't want to hurt you. The genuine concern on his face softens his rugged smooth features, making him look vulnerable and utterly irresistible. He captures your mouth again, pushing just the tip inside you. The sensation is foreign, intense, and undeniably arousing. You gasp softly against his lips.

“Wait…” you push his muscular chest to stop him. The small barrier of your hands against his powerful frame feels almost comical. 

The heat radiating from his body is overwhelming, and the throbbing pressure where he's joined you is making it difficult to think.

He pauses, holding his breath as he waits for you to speak. "What's wrong?" He asks softly, his arms tightening around you. He can feel how tight you are around just the tip, and he's worried it's going to hurt too much. His concern is palpable, a wave of tenderness washing over you.

You swallow and decide to be honest, "It's gonna bleed." The words hang in the air, heavy with the unspoken truth. You watch his expression carefully, bracing yourself for his reaction.

He freezes, his eyes widening slightly as he processes what you've said. "Are you—?" He starts, then stops, his voice barely a whisper. "Are you a virgin?" He asks gently, his brow furrowing with concern and something else—tenderness. The realization washes over him, transforming his gaze from one of pure lust to one of profound respect and awe.

“Yes..” you whisper. The admission feels strangely liberating. It's a vulnerability you've kept hidden for so long, a secret you're now entrusting to him.

Caleb's breath catches as he realizes the enormity of the moment. He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes soft with emotion. "Hey," he murmurs, "we don't have to do this right now. As much as I want you, I don't want it to hurt you." The sincerity in his voice is disarming. He's willing to sacrifice his own desire for your comfort, a testament to the depth of his feelings.

You shake your head. “No. I want you too. We can’t just…stop..” The words tumble out, fueled by a mixture of nerves and longing. 

You don't want to back down now. You've come too far, waited too long. The fear is still there, but it's overshadowed by the overwhelming desire to experience this with him.

He can see the determination in your eyes, mirroring his own desire. He kisses you gently, trying to prepare himself for the pain he knows you might feel. "Alright," he whispers against your lips, "but if it hurts too much, we stop, okay?" The promise is both reassuring and arousing. He's putting your needs first, but his own yearning is still evident in the intensity of his gaze.

You nod. The agreement seals the pact. You're ready.

With extreme care, he slowly pushes in further, feeling you tense around him. "Jesus," he hisses, "you're so tight. Relax, sweetheart." He keeps kissing you, trying to distract you from the invasion of his size. 

The pressure is building, a burning sensation that makes you want to both pull away and lean in closer. "Here comes the part that might sting..."

You tense. Every muscle in your body is coiled tight, bracing for the inevitable pain.

He pauses, giving you a moment to breathe. 

“Just a bit more," he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. With infinite gentleness, he pushes forward, feeling the barrier give way. You inhale sharply, and he freezes, holding himself still inside you. "You okay?" His voice is laced with concern.

“It’s worse than my period,” you wheeze. 

The comparison is clumsy, but it's the closest analogy you can come up with in the moment.

His heart clenches at your words, knowing he's the cause of your pain. He stays perfectly still, letting you get used to his size and the discomfort. "Shh, baby," he whispers, peppering your face with soft kisses. "Just breathe through it." He's a fortress of strength and tenderness, holding you close and offering silent support.

You nod and breathe deeply. You focus on the rhythm of your breath, trying to find a center of calm amidst the storm of sensations.

After what feels like an eternity, he feels your body start to relax slightly. He takes this as his cue to begin moving slowly, careful not to cause you too much discomfort. "Tell me if it's too much," he pants, his forehead dripping with sweat from the effort of holding back. The vulnerability he shows in this moment, the raw emotion etched on his face, is more intoxicating than any physical sensation.

The sight of him struggling, fighting against the raw desire that threatened to consume him, ignited a spark within you. A mischievous glint entered your eyes, a silent dare. You wouldn't cower, wouldn't appear weak or intimidated. Instead, you dug your heels into his, a subtle yet deliberate act, pulling him closer, inch by tantalizing inch. The whisper that escaped your lips was a single word, a plea, a demand: "More."

That single syllable, laced with innocent longing and burgeoning desire, seemed to shatter the last vestiges of his restraint. His grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging possessively into the soft flesh. The controlled movements he had so painstakingly maintained became less precise, more urgent, fueled by a primal need. 

"Fuck," he growled, the sound raw and guttural, a stark contrast to the playful banter you usually shared. "You feel so good... better than I imagined." He paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. "But baby, I'm really deep like this... too deep?"

A moan escaped your lips, your body humming with a newfound awareness. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious ache that spread from your core to the tips of your fingers. In that moment, words seemed inadequate, clumsy tools to express the intensity of what you were feeling. All you could manage was a simple, almost childlike description: "Like stick."

The unexpected crudeness, delivered with your characteristic naiveté, drew a smile from him, a genuine curve of his lips that momentarily softened the intensity in his eyes. Even as he fought to control his own spiraling pleasure, he understood. He knew you wanted him buried deep inside you, wanted to feel the fullness of his presence. 

"Too stuck, you mean?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against your skin. He began to move, slowly at first, thrusting his hips in a circular motion, deliberately pressing against your sensitive walls, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from you.

"No…" you choked out, a nervous laugh bubbling up from your chest. "You're so hard that it feels like I have a stick in my pussy." The words were clumsy, unrefined, yet perfectly captured the unfamiliar sensation that had taken hold of you.

His head snapped back, and a deep, unrestrained laugh erupted from his chest, a sound you had never heard before. It was a sexy, guttural sound that resonated through your body, sending shivers down your spine. 

Despite your innocence, your blunt phrasing had only served to harden him even more inside you. "Only you," he said, his voice thick with amusement and desire, "could make me laugh while I'm fucking you senseless..." He leaned down, pressing a series of slow, deliberate kisses along the sensitive curve of your neck, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through you.

A smile bloomed on your face, and a soft moan escaped your lips, a testament to the exquisite sensations flooding your senses.

He continued to move, his body finding a rhythm that seemed to please you both. His thrusts grew deeper, more assured, each one pushing you closer to the edge. "God, you're amazing," he murmured, his voice strained with effort. "Your pussy is so tight and wet... it's like a perfect glove." He leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue mimicking the motion of his hips, driving you wild.

"Mmm," you hummed, lost in the intoxicating sensation of his mouth on yours, his body pressed against yours.

Seeing you so consumed by pleasure emboldened him, and he quickened his pace slightly, his movements becoming more insistent. He could feel your body beginning to relax, opening up to him, surrendering to the raw, untamed desire that coursed through you both. "You like how I fill you up, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Is my big cock hitting that sweet spot?"

Your eyes rolled back in your head, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his voice. It was a voice you had never heard before, seductive and possessive. You had known him for years, talked to him countless times, but this voice, this side of him, was completely new.

He could see the surprise in your eyes, the flicker of recognition as his deep, husky voice washed over you. He knew this voice was reserved only for the intimacy of this moment, a secret language spoken only between lovers. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you even closer as he thrust deeper, pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice laced with a hint of possessiveness.

You slowly obeyed, your eyelids fluttering open, revealing the hazy depths of your desire. You met his gaze, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

He held your gaze, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your heart pound in your chest. "That's it," he whispered, his voice thick with lust. "I love seeing you like this—flushed, breathless, and taking my cock so beautifully." He shifted his angle slightly, finding that elusive spot that made you gasp aloud, a strangled sound of pure pleasure.

"Caleb…" you moaned, his name a breathless plea on your lips. "Please!"

Hearing his name spoken with such raw desire seemed to snap something inside him. In that moment, you were no longer his innocent best friend, the girl he had protected and cherished for years. You were a woman, a sexy, wanton creature beneath him, begging for more. 

"Please what, baby?" he ground out, his hips bucking against yours, hitting that sweet spot again and again. "Do you want it harder?"

You bit your lip, a nervous habit that had always plagued you. Seeing that small, vulnerable gesture seemed to ignite a fire within him.

"...Fuck, don't bite that lip like that. Never hurt yourself," he growled, his voice laced with a protective ferocity. He caught your plump bottom lip between his own teeth, gently tugging before capturing your mouth in a deep, consuming kiss. Without warning, he abandoned all pretense of control and began pounding into you harder, each thrust precise and powerful, driving you closer to the brink. "That what you wanted?" he asked, his voice a low rumble against your lips, knowing full well that it was.

You whimpered, your head lolling down against his shoulder. "Like that. Yes…"

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, his control finally slipping away as your whimpers drove him wild. "You feel so damn good I could come already..." He pinned your hands above your head, changing the angle completely, granting him deeper access. His eyes darkened with unrestrained desire as he slammed into you, finding that perfect spot that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"Oh fuck, Caleb!" You screamed his name as you came, your body arching off the wall, exposing the delicate curve of your throat.

Seeing your neck bared and hearing his name spill from your lips in a scream of pure ecstasy made his body taut with anticipation. He plunged into you even harder, chasing your orgasm with his own. 

"Damn," he muttered, watching your body writhe beneath him, your muscles clenching and releasing in a symphony of pleasure. 

Your neck was arched back, your breasts thrust out, a vision of pure, unadulterated beauty.

Releasing your wrists, he used the advantage of your exposed neck, curling his hand around your throat, holding his fingers against your jaw.

"Fuck…."

He used his other hand to pull one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up completely, granting him deeper access. He wrapped his fingers around your throat, his touch surprisingly gentle as he tilted your head back further, exposing you to his intense gaze. 

He continued to thrust into you brutally, each stroke a testament to his raw, untamed desire. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice hoarse with passion.

You sobbed as you looked at him, another orgasm building within you, threatening to overwhelm you completely.

Seeing the tears in your eyes, the raw vulnerability etched on your face, pushed him over the edge. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as he came with a guttural groan, his body convulsing with the force of his release. 

His hot, thick seed filled you up, throbbing inside you as his hips jerked erratically. 

"Fuck...fuck…fuck," he chanted, his fingers tightening slightly around your throat, a primal expression of possession.

As his breathing slowly returned to normal, he inhaled the familiar scent of apples, a fragrance he had come to associate with you, now mixed with the intoxicating aroma of sweat and mingled pleasure. It was a scent that suddenly felt incredibly intimate, comforting, and achingly familiar. 

He nuzzled his face into your neck, gently kissing away the beads of perspiration. 

"Baby... you're crying," he murmured, his voice laced with concern.

You choked out a teary laugh. "Yes."

He wiped the tears away with his thumb, his fingers loosening their hold on your throat. 

"Was it too much?" he asked softly, his purple eyes searching your tear-streaked face, seeking reassurance. He could feel you still trembling beneath him, your body wracked with aftershocks and lingering sobs.

You swallowed, trying to find the words to articulate the complex emotions swirling within you. "You're so intense…."

"Too intense?" he asked carefully, pulling back slightly, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. His gaze dropped to your neck, and he saw the faint marks left by his fingers. He realized his handprint was slightly visible, a stark reminder of the intensity of their encounter. He also remembered your throaty screams, the way your legs had been wrapped tightly around his waist. 

"Answer me," he said hoarsely. "Truthfully."

"I mean…it surprised me…"

He nodded slowly, understanding your shock. "I know I got a bit... carried away," he admitted, his thumb gently rubbing the faint mark on your neck. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" 

His voice was laced with genuine concern, the intense lust from earlier replaced with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

You shook your head, your eyes meeting his. "I loved it."

He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "You did?" he asks, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Because fuck, baby, you looked so beautiful like that... tears and all." He leans down and kisses you gently, his hand cupping your face. 

The shower roars around you, a steamy cocoon isolating you both from the world. The water sluices over your skin, washing away the remnants of your earlier despair, replaced now by a heady mix of fear and exhilaration.

“So you admit that you’re a sadist?” you laugh, the sound a little breathless, a little shaky. You try to inject some lightness into the moment, to diffuse the raw tension that crackles between you. But the words hang in the humid air, heavy with unspoken desires.

He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through your chest, his fingers tightening around your face possessively. 

"Guilty as charged," he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and moist against your skin. "You bring out the worst in me, you know that?" He pulls back slightly, his purple eyes glinting mischievously, reflecting the overhead light. “You like being manhandled?”

You blush, the heat rising in your cheeks, prickling your skin. "What kind of question is that?" you stammer, your mind struggling to keep up with the rapid-fire intensity of his words and actions. The way he looks at you, like you're the only thing in the universe, is both terrifying and intoxicating.

He smirks, clearly enjoying your reaction, the curve of his lips predatory and enticing. 

"It's a simple question, baby. Do you like it when I get rough with you?" He shifts slightly, making sure you can feel him, still hard and throbbing, deep inside you. 

"Because I can do it again if you want." The air crackles with unspoken promises, with the threat of exquisite pain and pleasure intertwined.

“Round two?” Your eyes widen, mirroring a mixture of disbelief and undeniable anticipation. The thought of surrendering to his dominance, of relinquishing control, both scares and excites you in equal measure.

"Or three," he says with a smirk, lifting his hips slightly to remind you of his persistent presence within you. "I can keep going all night, you know. And judging by how your pussy just tightened around me..." He runs his nose along yours teasingly, the scent of soap and arousal filling your senses. "You want more." He knows you. He sees through your carefully constructed facade of defiance straight to the yearning core of your desire.

“Shit…you little-“ you start to retort, but the words die in your throat, overwhelmed by the sheer force of his presence.

"Fucking genius?" He offers, interrupting you, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Yeah, I know." He captures your lips again, swallowing your curses as he starts moving his hips again, slowly, deliberately, drawing out the exquisite torment. "Now shut up and let me manhandle you some more," he growls against your lips, the possessive command igniting a fire deep within you.

You growl in his mouth, a primal sound of frustrated desire. You want to fight him, to resist, but your body betrays you, arching instinctively into his touch.

He grins, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, a delicious threat. "Like that?" he asks, his voice low and husky, vibrating with barely suppressed passion. "You're so fucking adorable when you're trying to be aggressive." He uses his gravity evol to lift you even higher up against the tiled wall, your legs wrapping around his waist, affording him even deeper access. 

By this point, you're both completely drenched under the relentless shower spray, the water plastering your hair to your face and tracing rivulets down your heated skin.

“Hey!” you exclaim, a weak protest.

He laughs, a deep rumbling sound that echoes in the small space. "You're adorable and you know it." He starts thrusting harder, his hips slapping against yours loudly, the rhythm primal and insistent. "Now be a good girl and hold on," he commands, his hands gripping your ass tightly as he fucks you hard against the wall, claiming you with every powerful stroke.

“Shit…shit…shit,” you curse and moan, the words a litany of surrender. You try to bite back the sounds escaping your lips, but the pleasure is too intense, the sensation of him filling you too overwhelming.

He swallows your cries with his mouth, one hand sliding up to cover your breast possessively, his thumb teasing your nipple. 

"Damn right," he hisses, watching your body bounce between the wall and his hips, his eyes dark and intense with lust. "Take my dick like a good girl," he growls out, his purple eyes darkening with desire.

You gasp, your muscles clenching involuntarily around him, a desperate plea for release.

He tosses his head back with a groan, feeling your walls tighten around his cock, the sensation almost unbearable. "Fuck, just like that," he praises breathlessly, squeezing your breast harder, eliciting another gasp from you. The steam from the shower fogs up the air around you, creating a hazy, sensual atmosphere, droplets of water mingling with your sweat, clinging to your skin like tiny jewels.

He leans in your ear, breathing heavily, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “You know what I would love to see?”

“What?” you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse with passion.

"My gun down your throat. The one you so desperately wanted to take," he whispers, the words a shocking contrast to the sensual intensity that had been building between you.

You choke, your muscles clenching again, this time not from pleasure, but from a sudden, sharp wave of fear and confusion. 

What the fuck? The abrupt shift in tone leaves you reeling, your mind struggling to reconcile the brutal image he paints with the raw intimacy you've been sharing.

He smiles at your reaction, a cruel, knowing curve of his lips, his hips slowing down as he continues speaking into your ear, his voice low and dangerous. "You tried to steal from me and now I want to see your mouth stuffed full of something I own." He bites your earlobe, his tongue piercing digging into your skin, a small stab of pain that sends a jolt through you.

“You wouldn’t…” you hiss, the words a mix of disbelief and challenge.

"Try me," he laughs darkly, the sound sending a shiver of apprehension down your spine. "I might actually enjoy watching you choke on my gun." He pulls back slightly to look at your face, his purple eyes serious, devoid of any trace of the playful amusement from before. "You have such a smart mouth. I bet it'd look perfect wrapped around my gun." He tightens his hips again slowly, deliberately, the movement both a punishment and a promise.

“You’re serious?” You are speechless, the air knocked out of your lungs.

As a hunter, you held a gun everyday but use it for pleasure like this? Was he insane? 

The thought is jarring, disturbing, completely at odds with your understanding of the world.

"Deadly serious," he states firmly, his gaze unwavering. "I own you now, remember? Your mouth is mine to use however I want." 

He leans back and uses his evol to grab the gun from the counter as it floated in his waiting hand, holding it up so you can see it. The metal glints menacingly under the shower spray, reflecting the sharp angles of his face. "Open up."

“Caleb…” you gasp, shocked, the name a plea, a desperate attempt to reach the man you thought you knew.

"Now," he orders, his voice firm and commanding, brooking no argument. He presses the cold metal against your bottom lip, silently urging you to open your mouth, the contact sending a shiver of revulsion and a strange, twisted kind of excitement through you. 

His eyes blaze with possessiveness and triumph as he looks at your shocked expression, the power he wields over you palpable. "Be a good girl and open your mouth for me," he demands softly, the words laced with a dangerous undertone.

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to breathe. Slowly, hesitantly, you open your mouth, a silent act of surrender.

He slides the gun into your mouth slowly, deliberately, his eyes never leaving yours, watching your reaction with an almost clinical detachment. "Good girl," he praises, his voice low and dangerous, sending a shiver down your spine. "Now suck it like you would my cock." He watches as you tentatively wrap your lips around the metal, your eyes wide with shock and arousal, the conflicting emotions warring within you.

You taste the cold metal, the lingering smell of gun powder filling your nostrils as you suck the barrel, a strange, forbidden pleasure tingling on your tongue.

He can feel your warm breath on the gun as you suck on it, his fingers tightening around the handle possessively, the weight of the weapon heavy in his hand. "Deeper," he growls, pushing the gun further into your mouth until it hits the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, the metallic taste intensifying.

You whimper, a small, involuntary sound of distress and submission.

The cool metal of the gun barrel presses against your lips, a stark contrast to the heat that’s been building between you and Caleb for what feels like an eternity. 

He pulls it out slowly, deliberately, the silver glinting in the dim bathroom light. A thin string of saliva stretches from your parted lips to the cold steel, a fragile connection in this moment of raw, untamed desire.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice a low, husky rumble that sends shivers down your spine. His eyes, usually a vibrant, playful purple, are now dark pools of lust, focused solely on you, on the way your body reacts to his every move. He slides the gun back in, a slow, agonizing tease that makes your breath catch in your throat. Each inch is a deliberate act, mimicking the possessive thrusts of his hips from just moments before, etching the memory of his forceful claim onto your very being.

The sensation is shocking, forbidden, and undeniably arousing. You try to fight it, to pull away, but his grip is firm, his control absolute. He dictates the pace, the depth, the intensity of this bizarre, sensual dance. 

Your head spins, the world tilting on its axis as the pleasure and the danger intertwine, creating a potent cocktail that threatens to overwhelm your senses.

Soon, your eyes roll back in your head, the fight draining out of you as you surrender to the intoxicating wave of sensation. You’re lost in the moment, the boundaries between right and wrong blurring beyond recognition.

“Mmh,” he hums, watching your body go lax, your mouth open and accepting around the gun. A possessive triumph flickers in his eyes, a primal satisfaction at your complete submission. “You like getting mouth-fucked by my gun?” he growls softly, his voice rough with barely contained desire. 

He pushes it deeper again, hitting your throat harder this time, a deliberate act that makes you gag slightly, but the discomfort only adds to the intensity of the experience. The sound of wet, sloppy sucking fills the small bathroom, amplifying the intimacy, the transgression.

You can’t help it. You moan, a low, guttural sound that escapes from the back of your throat, a testament to the pleasure he’s inflicting, to the control he wields.

He feels your moan vibrate around the gun, the sound resonating through his body, igniting a fire that threatens to consume him. 

“Fuck,” he groans, the sound ripped from his chest, raw and desperate. He pulls the gun out and sets it aside on the shower bench, the sound of metal against tile echoing in the sudden silence. 

His other hand, calloused and strong, grips your throat tightly, not painfully, but firmly, possessively, reminding you who’s in charge. He slams his mouth against yours, kissing you roughly, desperately, his tongue invading your mouth in a blatant act of ownership. “You’re mine,” he hisses against your lips, his breath hot and ragged against your skin.

You sob, a small, involuntary sound of surrender, as the overwhelming rush of sensation finally breaks you. You come, hard and fast, the orgasm tearing through you with a force that leaves you shaking, gasping for breath. Harder than before, more intense, more complete.

He swallows your cries, muffling the sounds of your climax, claiming them as his own. 

Your body convulses, your nails digging into his back as you cling to him, the only anchor in this sea of overwhelming sensation. He feels your release cover his thighs again, hot and slick against his skin, his eyes darkening with a mixture of possessiveness and raw, primal hunger. 

He lifts you up suddenly, wrapping your legs around his waist again, your bodies molding together as one. He pulls out and enters you roughly, a forceful invasion that makes you scream loudly, the sound echoing off the tiled walls.

His fingers dig into your bottom, gripping you tightly as he lifts you up and down on his length, fucking you hard and fast against the shower wall. The sound of slapping skin mingles with your screams, creating a cacophony of pleasure and pain, of dominance and surrender. His eyes, burning with possessiveness and hunger, seem to pierce through you, stripping you bare, exposing your innermost desires. “Who owns this pussy?”

You sob, the words torn from your throat, a desperate plea for release, for validation. “You, Caleb. You.”

He slams into you harder, deeper, rewarding your submission with a low groan that vibrates against your skin. “Goddamn right I do,” he growls, biting your neck possessively, leaving a trail of burning kisses in his wake. 

His hips piston relentlessly, driving you closer and closer to the edge. The shower wall steams up around you both, droplets of water mingling with your sweat and his saliva, marking your skin with the evidence of his claim.

You can’t hold out, the next orgasm building inside you, a tidal wave of sensation threatening to engulf you.

As if sensing your approaching climax, he reaches down and presses his thumb against your clit, circling it mercilessly, increasing the pressure, pushing you closer to the breaking point. “Come for me again, princess,” he demands harshly, his voice rough and possessive. “Show me who this pussy belongs to.”

The sweet pet name, spoken in this moment of intense passion, is a final surrender, a complete and utter relinquishing of control. It makes you come again, almost absurdly, the force of the orgasm even more intense than before.

He groans deeply as he feels your pussy clench around him, milking his cock with each pulse of your orgasm. “Fucking hell,” he growls, his hips moving faster and more erratically, his control slipping as he teeters on the edge of his own release. “That’s it, princess. Come all over my cock.”

“Caleb!”

He hilts himself inside you with a final, brutal thrust, biting down on your shoulder to stifle his own cries as his orgasm crashes through him, a cataclysmic explosion of sensation. 

“Mine,” he snarls possessively, flooding your pussy with his hot, thick release. His cock twitches inside you, prolonging your shared climax, holding you captive in this moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

“Holy shit!” You wheeze, gasping for breath as the last tremors of your orgasm subside.

Panting heavily, Caleb leans his forehead against yours, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Holy shit is right,” he chuckles weakly, his cock still buried deep inside you, a tangible reminder of the connection you share. He squeezes your ass playfully, his earlier intensity melting into post-coital affection. “You alright there, princess?”

You are left panting, your mind still reeling from the intensity of what just happened, struggling to process the sheer force of his dominance, the depths of your own surrender.

He can see the dazed expression in your eyes, a testament to the power of the encounter. He nuzzles his face against yours, inhaling your scent deeply, savoring the taste of your skin. “Baby, you okay?” he asks softly, his fingers splaying out on your backside possessively, assuring himself that you’re still there, still his.

You nod weakly, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasms. “I think I broke my sweet Caleb.”

He lets out a low, satisfied laugh, his body still entwined with yours, his cock throbbing inside you. “You didn’t break me, princess. But damn, you wore me out.” He gently kisses your lips, his hands moving to support your weight as he slowly lowers you down, his cock finally slipping out of you, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

“Oh god…” you gasp and wobble, feeling his cum leaking out of you, a visible reminder of his possession.

Seeing the look on your face, a mixture of shock and arousal, he grins mischievously. 

He reaches down and scoops some of his semen off your inner thighs, bringing his fingers up to your mouth. “Open up, princess,” he commands softly, his eyes locked with yours, daring you to resist. “Taste what you do to me.”

You don’t glare this time, the fight gone out of you, replaced by a strange mixture of exhaustion and a lingering desire. You melt and open your mouth, too weak to fight or argue, surrendering once again to his will.

He gently pushes his fingers between your lips, letting you taste his salty, musky release. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip as he pulls his fingers out, leaving a glistening sheen on your skin. He helps you steady yourself against the shower wall, his hands roaming possessively over your curves, claiming you as his own.

“I can’t believe you fucked my mouth with your gun.”

He chuckles darkly, turning off the shower and wrapping you in a plush towel, his movements gentle despite the raw intensity of the encounter you just shared. “I can’t believe you let me,” he retorts, his voice still laced with amusement and satisfaction. He picks you up bridal style, carrying you out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You were forcing me, you know?” You hiss, trying to regain some semblance of control, to remind him that there are boundaries, even between you.

He lays you down on the bed, a smirk tugging at his lips as he towels you off more aggressively than necessary, his eyes burning with a possessive fire. “Forcing you? Baby, you sucked that gun like it was your favorite fucking lollipop.” He leans in close, his voice low and teasing, his breath ghosting against your skin.

You swallow, not knowing what to say, caught between outrage and a shameful surge of arousal.

He notices your reaction, the flicker of desire in your eyes, and his smirk grows wider. “Did you like it that much?” he asks, his eyes shining with curiosity and something darker, something that both excites and terrifies you. Before you can respond, he gently spreads your legs and crawls between them, his face hovering just above your pussy, his breath hot against your most sensitive flesh. “Let’s find out.”

“How?” You breathe.

He inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering closed as he savors your scent. When he opens them, they lock onto yours with an intent gaze. Slowly, deliberately, he leans down and presses his mouth to your pussy, parting your lips with his tongue and dragging it through your folds.

“Oh shit!” The words are a ragged expulsion of air, a surrender to the intense sensations that are already threatening to overwhelm you.

He grins against you, the vibrations sending a shock of pleasure through you. “That good, huh?” He does it again, this time flicking his tongue over your clit, watching your face contort with pleasure. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open and exposing you fully to his mouth.

“Caleb…” Your voice is a dazed whisper, barely audible above the roaring in your ears. Your eyes, wide and unfocused, lock on his. You search for something, anything, in his gaze – a hint of mercy, perhaps, or maybe just a sign that he’s feeling this as intensely as you are.

"What baby? Want me to stop?" His voice is a rough whisper against your wetness, knowing full well that you don't want him to stop. He circles your clit with his tongue again, maintaining eye contact as he does so. "Does my tongue feel good right here?"

You moan, a low, guttural sound that comes from the depths of your soul. Your hands, trembling, reach up to grip his hair, your fingers tangling in the dark strands, pulling him closer. “Caleb…fuck…”

He chuckles darkly, the vibrations against your sensitive nub making your hips buck up. He sucks your clit into his mouth, applying gentle pressure as he flicks his tongue back and forth. His fingers dig into your thighs, spreading you even wider as he devours you hungrily.

Your eyes roll back in your head, your vision blurring at the edges. You feel yourself losing control, spiraling down into a vortex of pure sensation.

"Fucking hell, you taste amazing," Caleb growls, releasing your clit momentarily. He dives back in, this time plunging his tongue deep inside your pussy, mimicking the motion of a cock. He curls it upwards, seeking that special spot to make you see stars.

You come without warning, a sudden, overwhelming surge of pleasure that shatters your control completely.

You scream out loud as a intense orgasm rips through your body, making your legs shake uncontrollably. Caleb holds onto your hips, keeping you place as he continues to lick and suck on your pussy, prolonging your climax. Your eyes flutter open, finding his intense gaze locked onto yours.

"I love watching you fall apart on my tongue," Caleb says roughly, giving your clit one last lick before standing up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His pupils are dilated with desire, his breathing heavy.

You lick your lips, still tasting him on them, and your gaze lowers to his body. He is very much naked after the shower you just had, his skin flushed and damp, his muscles tense with barely suppressed energy.

Caleb follows your gaze and smirks, his hand reaching down to wrap around his thick, hard cock. He gives it a slow, languid stroke, his thumb swirling over the sensitive head. "You want this, don't you?" he asks, his voice a deep, seductive rumble.

You whimper, a small, involuntary sound of need that betrays your every thought. You lay in the bed, still with your legs spread and boneless, completely at his mercy.

He watches you, his eyes darkening. The way your legs are spread, the way your body is boneless and sated - it makes his blood boil, fuels the possessive hunger that claws at his insides. He wraps his hand tighter around his length, pumping slowly. "You look like you've been properly fucked," he comments softly, almost to himself, voice laced with dark satisfaction.

You choke a laugh, a weak, breathless sound that still manages to convey a hint of playful defiance. “And who was the one who did that?”

He groans, his eyes fluttering closed briefly as he continues to slow jerk himself off. You’re teasing him, laughing softly even though you’re clearly wrecked from their fucking. "Shut up," he mutters, his voice strained.

You find yourself watching. Each stroke is deliberate, a slow, sensual dance of hand against flesh. You see the flexing of his muscles, the tightening of his jaw, and the way his breath hitches with each movement. It's a raw, uninhibited display, and you find yourself captivated by the sheer intensity of it.

He opens his eyes, finding you watching him with heavy-lidded eyes. The way you're looking at him, like you're enjoying the show - fuck, it's hot. He picks up the pace, his hand moving faster over his length. "You like watching me touch myself?" he asks roughly.

You swallow, the word catching in your throat. "Yes," you whisper, the admission a release, a surrender to the moment.

A low groan escapes his lips as he hears your admission. He strokes himself faster, his grip tightening. "Do you want to watch me come?" he asks, his voice strained with desire. "Or do you want something else?" He looks at you, his eyes filled with lust and a hint of challenge.

"More..." you breathe, the word a plea, a promise.

His breathing grows heavier as he continues to stroke himself, his free hand balling into a fist at his side. "More what?" he growls, his eyes locked onto yours. "You want me to do something else?" He swirls his thumb over the sensitive head, his hand pausing briefly.

A moan escapes your lips, involuntary, a testament to the power he holds over you. You nod, unable to speak, your body trembling with need.

A smirk plays at the corners of his mouth, a predatory curve that sends a thrill of excitement through you. He releases his length, leaving it throbbing, glistening, a beacon of raw desire. He comes closer to the bed, stopping at the edge,” Come here, baby.”

You obey, your body moving without conscious thought. You close your legs, knees digging into the mattress, and crawl towards him, drawn by an irresistible force.

As you crawl closer, Caleb reaches out, his large hands grasping your wrists gently. He pulls you the last bit, until you're kneeling right before him. His cock juts out, a pulsing testament to his desire, inches from your face. “I think you want a taste," he murmurs, stroking his shaft slowly.

You lick your lips, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. You nod, looking up at him with a mixture of lust and adoration. He's offering you a gift, a privilege, and you're ready to receive it.

Caleb's breath hitches as he watches you lick your lips. He guides his thick head to your mouth, painting your lips with his pre-cum. "Open up for me, sweetheart," he orders softly, his voice thick with desire. He wants to feel your warm, wet mouth enveloping him, to lose himself in the sensation of your touch.

You open your lips, a silent invitation, and he doesn't hesitate.

"Fuck," he whispers, the word an expletive and a prayer as you take him in. He pushes himself deeper inch by inch until he hits the back of your throat. Your gag reflex tries to kick in, but he keeps a firm but gentle grasp on the back of your head, holding you steady. "You're such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice laced with praise, the words a reward for your devotion.

Your eyes roll back in your head, lost in the sensation, the praise igniting a fire within you. You want to please him, to give him everything he desires.

Seeing your reaction, Caleb groans deeply, his hips beginning to move slowly. "That's it, baby. Take my cock so well," he praises, his voice husky with lust. He gently thrusts deeper, giving you time to adjust to his size, to the overwhelming sensation of his presence.

You moan, a muffled sound against his flesh, and almost choke, tears welling up in your eyes. You struggle to breathe, forcing air through your nose, trying to maintain control, to continue pleasing him.

Caleb's grip on your head tightens slightly, but he remains gentle, feeling your struggle. "Shh, baby, take a breath," he coos softly, slowly pulling back to give you a moment of respite. He watches as you gasp for air, tears streaming down your cheeks, your face flushed and contorted with effort,” Look at me.” he whispers.

You look up at him, your eyes pleading, vulnerable.

His heart melts at the sight of you looking up at him with those tear-stained cheeks. His pace remains slow and rhythmic, careful not to hurt you. Not this time. "You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth," he whispers, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

You whimper, a small, involuntary sound of pleasure, loving that he's so tender with you, so aware of your limits.

"My sweet girl..." he breathes out, continuing those careful thrusts. One hand stays on your head while the other gently strokes your cheek, offering comfort and reassurance. “You're doing so good, taking me so deep..." He watches you struggle, feeling both guilt and intense pleasure knowing it's him causing those sweet tears, that look of blissful torment on your face.

You try to open your mouth wider for him, a silent offering, a desperate attempt to give him everything he wants.

"God, yes... just like that," he encourages, his voice growing thicker as he feels himself nearing his limit. "Your mouth is heaven, sweetheart. So warm, so tight... I'm so fucking close." He bites his lip, trying to hold back, wanting to prolong this moment.

You moan around him, a garbled sound of pleasure and desperation, reaching up to cup his balls, your fingers gently stroking, teasing, adding fuel to the fire.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he curses under his breath, a tremor running through his powerful thighs, the muscles bunching and releasing under your touch. "Stop, stop," he warns you gently, the words a breathy plea, yet his hands, those strong hands that could crush bone stay firmly on your head, contradictory to his words. "You'll make me come if you keep doing that..." His breathing grows raspier.

You ignored him, or perhaps, he knew you would. The thrill of control, of pushing him closer and closer to the brink, was a heady aphrodisiac. Deeper, faster, you swallowed, your hand a firm, possessive grip on his heavy sac, the weight of his impending release heavy in your palm.

"Holy shit," he mutters, hips jerking forward slightly. He's trying hard not to face-fuck you, his self-control surprisingly good. "Your mouth..." He swallows hard, watching you take him deep. "Your hand..." He tenses again as you gently massage his balls.

You broke the rhythm, just for a moment, lifting your head, your gaze locking with his. The moan that escaped your lips was a primal sound, born of pure, unadulterated lust.

His face contorts with pleasure when you look up at him, your usual innocent eyes were filled with desire and hunger, and he finally loses control. "Fuck, I'm coming," he grits out, hands gripping your head tightly as he begins to pump his hips, face screwed up in ecstasy.

Your eyes roll back, the world fading away as the first taste of his release flooded your mouth. He was fire, molten and consuming, and you welcomed the burn.

He lets out a guttural groan as he releases into your mouth, his hot seed spilling out as you swallow around him. He holds you there, not allowing you to pull back as he continues to shudder and come, his body trembling above you. "Damn..." The word was a ragged whisper, a testament to the intensity of what had just transpired.

Seeing him undone, vulnerable, weak in the aftermath of his climax, fueled a deep, primal satisfaction within you. He was a god brought to his knees, and you were the force that had felled him.

Caleb's knees nearly buckle as the last waves of his orgasm course through him. Slowly, he pulls back, his cock slipping from your lips with a soft pop. He stares down at you, chest heaving, a look of stunned awe on his flushed face. "Holy shit," he repeated, the words a hushed prayer.

You swallowed, relishing the lingering taste of him, and licked the last remnants from your lips. The act was deliberately provocative, a silent dare. Your voice was hoarse, raw from the intensity of the moment. "How was that? Better than when you made me choke on your gun?" You grinned, a flash of teeth in the dim light, the question laced with a playful defiance.

A low chuckle rumbles in Caleb's chest as he listens to your hoarse voice and teasing words. His eyes light up with amusement and something darker, more primal. He reaches down, gently lifting your chin with his thumb and index finger. "Mmm, definitely better." He murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Your grin widened, emboldened by his response.

Caleb's gaze drops to your lips, still glistening with his release. Without a word, he leans down, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue delves in, tasting himself on your lips and tongue. He pulls back after a moment, breathing heavily.

The words, the ones you had choked back in the shower, the ones that had been burning in your throat, finally escaped. "I love you..." The declaration hung in the air, fragile and vulnerable.

His heart skips a beat, emotions playing across his features - surprise, fear, love. "Fuck... don't you dare say things like that," he whispers, but there's no venom in his tone. Instead, he pulls you closer, forehead resting against yours, the contact grounding him.

You giggled, the sound light and airy in the otherwise heavy atmosphere. "Well... you told me to take my time."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, crinkling the skin around his eyes. "You did take your time," he admitted, his voice softer now. He sat back against the headboard, pulling you into his lap, his arms wrapping tightly around you, holding you close. "Too much time." He paused, his heart pounding in his chest, a frantic drumbeat against your back.

You snuggled into his neck, inhaling his scent, the familiar aroma a comfort and a challenge. "You love me, so it's only right to love you back."

Caleb's arms tighten around you, his breath hitching slightly at your words. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, his voice barely above a whisper. "You know I do. More than anything." He pauses, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back, a silent language of affection.

"Mmm," you murmured, content in his embrace.

Caleb tilts his head, watching your smiling face intently. A playful smirk tugs at his lips as he squeezes you gently in his lap. "Was that an'mmm' of agreement or an'mmm' of trouble?" His eyebrow arches teasingly, clear amusement sparkling in his eyes.

You rested your forehead against his, peering up at him through your lashes. "Definitely agreement."

A warmth spreads across his face at your answer, his eyes softening as they lock onto yours. His hand moves to gently rest on your cheek, thumb stroking across your skin. "Smartass," he whispers, but the word comes out fondly.

You nuzzled his hand, pressing a kiss into his palm. You had missed this, these quiet, tender moments, the feeling of being safe and cherished in his arms.

He watches you nuzzle into his palm, his expression unguarded. His other hand comes up to cup your jaw possessively. "God, you're like a damn cat," he murmurs, his voice lower, almost tender again. He missed these small, unguarded moments with you too, the feeling of your warmth against him, the trust that flowed between you.

You giggled, the sound fading into silence as you settled back into his embrace. "What now?" The question hung in the air, a hesitant inquiry about the future, about where this fragile connection would lead.

Caleb's thumb continues to stroke your cheek, his eyes searching yours. "What do you want to do now?" he asks softly, giving you a small smile. He shifts slightly, making sure you're comfortable in his lap. "We could just stay like this for a while, or... we could talk."

"Or...you can bring me some snacks?" You countered, the playful request a deliberate attempt to lighten the mood, to avoid the weight of serious conversation.

Chuckles softly, the vibrations rumbling against your back. "Always so demanding, aren't you?" He kisses your shoulder gently before setting you back on the bed. "Fine, I'll get you some snacks. But only if you promise to stay right there and look pretty for me."

“How pretty?” You teased, batting your eyelashes as you watched him pull his boxers on.

Rolling his eyes playfully, Caleb ran a deliberately slow, appreciative gaze over you, from head to toe, lingering on the curve of your breasts, the swell of your hips.

"Prettier than a sunrise, dummy. Now sit tight before you ruin my carpet with your gorgeous self sprawled out naked."

You laughed, a genuine, uninhibited sound that filled the room. "You think I would lay on the carpet?"

"With your lazy ass?" He teases, shaking his head as he turns towards the kitchen. "Knowing you, you'd probably decide the carpet is more comfortable than this king-sized bed." His voice carries a warm, affectionate tone that betrays his playful joking.

"Bring my favorite! Apple flavored!" You called out after him, the request laced with a sweet anticipation.

His low chuckle was the only response, a soft rumble that faded as he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you alone with the lingering scent of sex and the quiet hum of contentment.

taglist : @mcdepressed290

[animusrox]

MY LETTERBOXD

TOP 10

1.    Dune: Part Two 2.    The Substance 3.    Hundreds of Beavers 4.    Anora 5.    Dìdi 6.    Nosferatu 7.    Nickel Boys 8.    The First Omen 9.    Sing Sing 10.    Civil War

GRADE A 

11.    No Other Land 12.    Robot Dreams 13.    The Peasants 14.    Conclave 15.    Smile 2 16.    Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes 17.    We Grown Now 18.    Memoir of a Snail 19.    The Last Stop in Yuma County 20.    A Real Pain 21.    It’s What’s Inside 22.    Red Rooms 23.    Sometimes I Think About Dying 24.    A Different Man 25.    Better Man 26.    The Brutalist 27.    Heretic 28.    His Three Daughters 29.    Hard Truths 30.    Evil Does Not Exist 31.    Late Night with the Devil 32.    Alien: Romulus 33.    MadS 34.    Rebel Ridge 35.    Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person 36.    Challengers 37.    Strange Darling 38.    Flow 39.    All We Imagine as Light 40.    Longlegs 41.    Saturday Night 42.    The Apprentice 43.    Terrifier 3 44.    The Seed of the Sacred Fig 45.    A Complete Unknown 46.    A Quiet Place: Day One 47.    Juror #2 48.    Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl 49.    Oddity 50.    Kneecap 51.    Touch 52.    Mayhem! 53.    The Order 54.    In a Violent Nature 55.    Small Things Like These 56.    Twisters 57.    Hit Man 58.    Woman of the Hour 59.    Stopmotion 60.    The Wild Robot 61.    Deadpool & Wolverine

[Tap 'Keep Reading' For My Full Graded List]

GRADE B

62.    The Devil’s Bath 63.    The Bikeriders 64.    Sasquatch Sunset 65.    The Lord of the Rings: The War of the Rohirrim 66.    Monkey Man 67.    Last Straw 68.    Abigail 69.    Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga 70.    Tiger Stripes 71.    The Book of Clarence 72.    The Instigators 73.    I’m Still Here 74.    The Coffee Table 75.    The Return 76.    Problemista 77.    Trap 78.    MaXXXine 79.    Love Lies Bleeding 80.    You’ll Never Find Me 81.    Between the Temples 82.    Marmalade 83.    Blitz 84.    Speak No Evil 85.    Asphalt City 86.    Piece By Piece 87.    Wicked Little Letters 88.    We Live in Time 89.    Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story 90.    V/H/S/Beyond 91.    The Dead Don’t Hurt 92.    Suncoast 93.    Maria 94.    My Old Ass 95.    Immaculate 96.    The Truth vs. Alex Jones 97.    Cuckoo 98.    Daddio 99.    We Were Dangerous 100.    The Outrun 101.    Infested 102.    Monolith 103.    Azrael 104.    The Last Showgirl 105.    Babes 106.    The Fire Inside 107.    Lisa Frankenstein 108.    Here 109.    Thelma 110.    Queer 111.    Out of Darkness 112.    Y2K 113.    Handling the Undead 114.    Bad Boys: Ride or Die 115.    I Saw the TV Glow 116.    Arcadian 117.    Transformers One 118.    Never Let Go 119.    The Piano Lesson 120.    Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F 121.    Wicked 122.    Gladiator II 123.    Carry-On 124.    Blink Twice 125.    Self Reliance 126.    Fly Me to the Moon 127.    Boy Kills World 128.    Kinds of Kindness 129.    Nutcrackers 130.    Skincare 131.    Ezra 132.    The Front Room 133.    Mothers’ Instinct 134.    Inside Out 2 135.    Omni Loop 136.    Girls State 137.    Beetlejuice Beetlejuice 138.    Your Monster 139.    Babygirl 140.    Mufasa: The Lion King 141.    The Greatest Hits 142.    Horizon: An American Saga - Chapter 1 143.    Magpie

GRADE C 

144.    The People’s Joker 145.    Nightbitch 146.    Road House 147.    Young Woman and the Sea 148.    Am I OK? 149.    Music by John Williams 150.    The Killer’s Game 151.    Oh, Canada 152.    Wolfs 153.    Sting 154.    The Idea of You 155.    Don’t Move 156.    1992 157.    Werewolves 158.    The Killer 159.    The Shadow Strays 160.    Rez Ball 161.    MoviePass, MovieCrash 162.    The Fall Guy 163.    Lee 164.    The End 165.    Godzilla × Kong: The New Empire 166.    The Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare 167.    Madame Web 168.    Caddo Lake 169.    Watchmen: Chapter II 170.    Watchmen: Chapter I 171.    Salem’s Lot 172.    The Exorcism 173.    The Watchers 174.    Kill 175.    Jackpot! 176.    Rumours 177.    Damsel 178.    My Spy: The Eternal City 179.    Drive-Away Dolls 180.    IF 181.    Spaceman 182.    Joy 183.    Joker: Folie à Deux 184.    Megalopolis 185.    Monster Summer 186.    Lovely, Dark, and Deep 187.    Bob Marley: One Love 188.    Kraven the Hunter 189.    Moana 2 190.    I Used to Be Funny 191.    Goodrich 192.    September 5 193.    Hold Your Breath 194.    Apartment 7A

GRADE F

195.    The Platform 2 196.    Arthur the King 197.    Shirley 198.    Back to Black 199.    Land of Bad 200.    Poolman 201.    Emilia Pérez 202.    The Room Next Door 203.    I.S.S. 204.    Brothers 205.    Knox Goes Away 206.    Mean Girls 207.    Krazy House 208.    Slingshot 209.    Mr. Crocket 210.    Argylle 211.    Sonic the Hedgehog 3 212.    Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey 2 213.    Afraid 214.    Tuesday 215.    Spellbound 216.    Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths Part Three 217.    Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths Part Two 218.    Justice League: Crisis on Infinite Earths Part One 219.    The American Society of Magical Negroes 220.    Subservience 221.    Time Cut 222.    Night Swim 223.    Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire 224.    Red One 225.    This Is Me…Now 226.    Despicable Me 4 227.    The Union 228.    Ricky Stanicky 229.    The Beekeeper 230.    Honeymoonish 231.    Hot Frosty 232.    The Deliverance 233.    The Garfield Movie 234.    Lift 235.    Atlas 236.    Trigger Warning 237.    House of Spoils 238.    Borderlands 239.    Tarot 240.    Venom: The Last Dance

Bottom 10

241.    Imaginary 242.    Unfrosted 243.    It Ends With Us 244.    Dear Santa 245.    The Crow 246.    The Strangers: Chapter 1 247.    Harold and the Purple Crayon 248.    Rebel Moon - Part Two: The Scargiver 249.    Dirty Angels 250.    Miller’s Girl

[vee6lolz]

2:34 am .

imagine you’re dating spencer and instead of him not being able to keep his hands off you, he can’t keep his hands on you. during sex he’s always to scared to put it in because he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he substitutes by sticking his pretty little face between your thighs and cleaning your messy cunt with his tongue and running your a warm bath afterwards. on your honeymoon, you guys had p in v sex for the first time and he did not hold back. it felt so amazing, but he ended up bruising your cervix and he wouldn’t touch you for like 3 weeks afterwards. he always muttered ‘i’m sorry- i’m so sorry-’ whenever he even thought that he was going too hard inside of you, he promises to be gentle at first but the pace he goes is always too underwhelming for him so he ends up fucking the lights out of you, only to feel guilty about you being cock drunk; barely being able to form a coherent sentence. he always tells you how pretty you are afterwards, begging you to forgive him. and you love it.

[inkedinshadows]

21 with an overworked exhausted Az or reader, and the other taking care of them? 🥺

Workaholic

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Word count: 539

Warnings: none

21 - collapse

One look at Azriel, at the exhaustion etched into his features, and you knew you couldn't accept any more of his “I'll eat in a moment” and “just a little longer, then I'll sleep.”

As soon as he walked through the front door, you grabbed his hand and dragged him into the kitchen.

“Angel…” he tried to protest, but you didn't budge.

If he had really wanted to pull away from your grip, he could have done it easily. The fact that he didn't put up a fight was just further proof of how worn out he was.

“Sit,” you ordered, pushing him down on a chair. You quickly grabbed the plate you'd set aside for him earlier and placed it in front of him. “Eat.”

Azriel shook his head. “I don't have time. I have to—”

“I wasn't asking, Az.”

He stared at you, and some of the frustration that had built up inside you over the last couple of weeks eased a little.

“You need to eat, baby,” you said more gently, sitting next to him and picking up the fork. “You've been working too hard lately. You're going to collapse if you don't get some rest.”

“I'm fine,” he insisted. “I don't need to rest. I have to work on some reports.”

You sighed. “I know there's a war going on, but you won't help anyone if you're running on fumes.”

You picked up some food and lifted the fork to his mouth. “Open, please?”

“I'm not a babe who needs to be fed,” he grumbled, but he still obeyed.

You smiled. “No, you're not,” you agreed. “But you sure act like you need someone to take full care of you.”

He didn't look very convinced or pleased, but at least he let you feed him. It was the first full meal he'd had in days.

“Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?” you asked as you watched him slowly chew. “The circles under your eyes are darker than your shadows.”

Azriel gave you a look. “You're exaggerating.”

“I'm really not.”

“You are. You're fussing.”

You gathered the last of the food and brought the fork to his mouth one last time. “I'm not fussing,” you corrected. “I'm taking care of my workaholic of a mate.”

He scoffed, but you didn't miss the faint smile that bloomed on his lips as he accepted the final bite.

When he tried to stand, you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“We're not done,” you warned. “I'm going to draw you a bath now, and you're formally required to soak in the water for at least… let's say fifteen minutes.”

Azriel arched a brow, but you went on.

“And then you're going to bed. And you're going to stay there all night. No getting up in the middle of the night to work. No sneaking out before dawn. You'll get up when I say you can. Understood?”

He was silent for a long moment, and then he smirked.

“Why are you never this bossy in the bedroom?”

You laughed, then took his hand to help him stand and guide him upstairs.

“Stop working yourself so hard and maybe next time I will be.”

He smiled. “Deal.”

Taglist: @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34 @yesiamthatwierd @lreadsstuff @littlest-w01f

Azriel tags: @kathren1sky-blog

[novemberheart]

{overview} The cycle completes itself

{warnings} fem reader, poly 141, a/b/o dynamics, MDNI, p in v smex, mating cycles, marking, cursing, Simon and John chapter

Chapter 33 <- Chapter 34 -> Chapter 35

It wasn't like how everyone had described it.

It wasn't some euphoric high, that had you screaming with pleasure.

It wasn't painful.

It was gentle.

It was stable.

It was secure.

You were no longer alone in the world.

You were protected, loved, and valued.

You weren't alone in the world.

You were safe.

You were no longer alone in the world.

Warmth flooded you. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Your heartbeat slowed in your chest, your muscles relaxing. Those three seconds felt like a lifetime, your mind moving from its halt to overdrive. You leaned forward your teeth catching his shoulder completing the cycle. He growled against you, the vibrations going straight through your new mark.

It burned.

Hands grabbed you ready to pull you away. He wasn't deep enough in his rut for it to not hurt. He held up his hand to stop them, his mouth still refusing to leave your neck.

He had experienced much worse for far less reward.

He knew this might’ve happened when he marked you. It would only be natural for you to return the favor.

The initial pain left, a sudden wave of iciness crashing over him. It was welcomed compared to the feeling of being lit on fire from the inside out. He was changing. Every fiber of his being altering to better serve you. He was no longer just an alpha.

He was your alpha.

The greatest title one could have.

His fangs throbbed at the excursion and he finally felt satisfied enough to detach himself. He licked across the teeth indents, his saliva the perfect remedy to help it heal nicely. Couldn't have you walking around butchered after all. You whined against him, the warmth leaving your body in an instant.

You wished the feeling stayed. You whimpered, your fangs shrinking back to their normal size, your mouth detaching from his shoulder with a pop. Your mind worked on its own, instincts running hot. Your tongue soothed over the spot, sending a pleasant shiver up his spine. The two of you were useless, needing all the help you could get to roll you together. You both woke up a bit from the jostling, you pushing your way under his tank top to press against his chilled skin. They built a nest around you as best they could, you still clinging onto Johnny’s shirt. Their bodies acted like walls to keep out even the idea of any threats entering this sanctuary. Simon's eyes met theirs- hazy yet thankful, before lulling to sleep.

He woke up to your teeth on his arm. He chuckled lowly, his hand smoothing over the back of your head.

“Yes, pretty girl?” He murmured, nothing but patience and adoration in his voice. You smiled up at him cheekily, rolling onto your back, exposing your neck to him. Simon's bite was developing nicely. It was too bruised to make out the details yet. “One bite wasn't enough, hmmmm?” he grumbled, his teeth grazing against your chest.

“No,” you breathed in agreement. Your body twitched in excitement, your hands wandering around his body. John had the perfect balance of muscle and fat, warmth and strength.

You purred at his scent. His normal campfirey scent weighted down by the scent of an alpha in a rut. You preened at the thought that you were the one that brought the scent forward.

“What do you need, sweet girl?” He hummed, his lips soft against your shoulder.

“You,” you mumbled, your fingers racking through his hair. “And maybe a bath?” you added, making him chuckle.

“I like the sound of both of those,” He smiled, already moving to stand. Simon was still out like a light next to you. “How ‘bout we leave that here so it doesn't get wet,” John suggested.

“Simon?” you questioned softly. John's shoulders shook as he laughed, his hands reaching out to grab at Johnny’s shirt you were still clinging to.

“This, sweetheart,” he said softly, pulling it away from you. You flushed, rolling your eyes at yourself. You didn't have time to dwell on it, his hands hoisting you up from under your pits. You were about to insist on being able to walk, but the feeling of being so close to him quickly drowned that out.

He drew the two of you a bath, his thumbs already beginning to loosen the tight muscles that had formed.

“Where are the betas,” you questioned, your hands smoothing over his broad chest.

“Your betas are getting us some lunch,” he responded instantly. “How does your bite feel?”

“Fine,” you assured. It only stung a bit when you got some of the warm water on it. Your body wasn't rejecting it. You sighed, resting your head against his chest. His heartbeat could easily lull you to sleep, your eyes already growing heavy, yet your body had other plans.

“Alpha,” you whined, resting your chin against his chest, and staring up at him. He groaned, leaning down so his forehead was against yours. He pressed a kiss against your head, shushing you softly, continuing to clean. He maneuvered you so your back was against his chest.

You purred as his soapy hand ducked between your thighs.

“Easy, pretty,” he soothed one large hand prying your legs apart. His thumb ran over your folds, before settling on a lazy rhythm against your little bundle of nerves. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, your hips rolling against his hand.

He pulled his hand away.

You growled nastily at him and he swatted your bottom. He put you on your feet and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, letting the tub drain out. He turned over his shoulder staring at you expectantly.

“I'm sorry for growling at you,” you mumbled, your eyes shining with tears. You should know better than to egg an alpha on while he was in a rut. He placed a kiss against your lips.

“S’alright sweetheart,” he soothed. His eyes were soft, almost like the interaction had amused him. “Now how about you hop up on the counter and spread those pretty legs for me, hmmm?”

“You two done in there?” Simon grunted from the bed. John chuckled, seemingly unfazed by the brutal pounding that just took place in the bathroom. John tossed you on the bed, Simon's hand immediately spreading across your lower stomach. Could he feel John's warmth from there? You sighed happily, stretching your sore- but satisfied limbs against the sheets.

You could faintly hear a ruckus coming from the living room, John rolling his eyes.

“Betas must be back,” he nearly chuckled. He moved towards the door, throwing an ‘I’ll be back’ over his shoulder.

You rubbed at your tired eyes, slowly rolling them over to look at Simon.

He was already staring at you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, the overwhelming desire to press yourself so close to him so you would be joined together forever.

His jaw was clenched shut, his eyes unsure of what to do. Tears welled in them, and he quickly cleared his throat beginning to move away from you.

“No!” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. “You’re my alpha now,” you breathed. “You can't just pull away from me because you feel something, Simon. Please don't run away from it,” your words were desperate, your face buried in his neck, your cheek brushing against the mark on his shoulder. “I need you,” you whined, your grip on his tightening.

His body relaxed from above yours causing both of you to sink into the mattress.

“Then you'll have me,” he muttered with absolute certitude. The sentiment was more powerful than an ’I love you.’ For Simon, the act of giving himself was more terrifying and meaningful than throwing around those three overused words.

He groaned against you as you slammed your lips into his. It was sloppy, relentless, and passionate just like your relationship with him.

“Wanted to make you mine for so long, pup,” he groaned, his tongue flattening against the mark on your skin. His mark. His mouth swallowed yours again, the thick fabric of his sweats not able to hide the throbbing member confined in them. “Whose mark is this?” he growled, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep them spread.

“Yours,” you panted. “My alphas,” you gasped. He vibrated against you, the purr in his chest feeling like a bolt of lightning against your skin. Your hands scratched at his broad torso, pulling at the light gray fabric.

You could feel his smirk against you as he kissed the various love bites that littered your skin.

“Can I take you, pup?” he murmured against you. You nodded rapidly, rolling your hips up to meet his. The question was; could you take him? You couldn't even bring yourself to look, keeping your eyes steady on the ceiling. He clicked his tongue at you, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ll go slow, pup. Won't hurt at all,” he assured. You rested your hands on either side of his cheek, connecting your lips with his.

It felt so right being in his arms. Looking back now all the fights and feelings you had towards him felt silly, but it made you appreciate this moment all the more. Your hands rolled down his body, pulling at the hem of his tank top. You faltered when you felt him flinch.

“Can I?” you whispered. “It is mine after all,” you smiled up at him. He smirked, nodding softly. He pulled the tank over his head, dropping it to the floor. Your stomach turned a bit at the painful scars that littered him. The biggest going all the way from his collar down to his ribs. One spot caught your eye. A burn mark on his hip, just peeking out over the waistband of his sweats.

“Look familiar?” he teased softly, following your gaze.

You wiped your eyes.

“It does.”

It was the injury that sent you to them.

How far you all have come.

You traced your hands over every inch of him. He let you, his eyes shutting softly. You paused at your mark, running your fingers over the sore flesh. It had already begun to heal and scab over. It looked a little funny next to John's large one, but they complimented each other. Your hands pulling at his sweats caused his eyes to open.

“Alright, sweet girl,” he hushed, helping you shake his pants off. Your eyes still refused to look down at him, feeling the weight of him slap between your thighs was enough. He pushed the pillows around and brought the blanket up over the two of you, a sentiment that made your omega purr. He was building a nest for the both of you. You rested your heated cheek against his shoulder, taking a deep breath when you felt the head of his cock catch against your entrance.

The push-in was slow, your body greedily accepting every inch and stretch. You thought it was safe to look down, figuring you were almost there only to see only half of him buried inside you. Your head flopped against the pillow, your half-lidded eyes meeting his. You were too embarrassed to admit the pressure building in your stomach was about to snap.

“Simon,” you mumbled, your thighs shaking around his waist.

“Doin’ so good, pup,” he breathed. His thumb circled your clit lazily, a rough growl leaving him as you came around his cock. “That easy?” he grumbled, teeth biting at your cheek.

“Feels so good,” you gasped, your hands resting on your shaky thighs.

“Wasn’t even fully in and you’re already comin’ around me?” he smirked. “Such a good omega,” he praised, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You grew restless when he refused to move, his eyes taking in every inch of you.

“Simon,” you muttered, wiggling your hips. He snarled, large hands keeping you in place. “You’re too big to stay still like that,” you whined. It wasn't unpleasant, it was a toe-curling fullness, but the spasming happening throughout your body was wearing on you. “Simon, please,” you continued.

“Fuckin’ made for me weren't you?” he mumbled, sending a shockwave through you. The last bit of his self restraint snapping when you rippled around him. He pulled out just enough for you to miss the fullness before pushing his hips back into yours. You couldn't help but squeak your hands grabbing at the pillows for support. He grabbed your hands guiding them to his shoulders. “Don’t worry about scratching me up, pup,” he purred, his pace quickening before you could process his words. Truth be told he wanted you to claw at him. He wanted every bit of proof, every bit of assurance that this was real. You were here. Under him and marked, beautiful wet eyes staring up at him with such feeling he couldn't hold your gaze for as long as he craved to.

God, did he fucking love you.

You whined when you felt a growing bulge at the base of his cock.

“Don't worry ‘bout that, pretty,” Simon panted, holding himself sheathed inside you. It was a pattern for him, give you five or six hard thrusts before keeping himself buried to the hilt inside you for as long as he wanted.

“I want it,” you whined, nails dragging up his sides.

“Yeah?” he questioned breathlessly. He pushed his hips deeper, the tip of his knot pushing you closer to your limit. You didn't care though. You needed it. Needed to be filled by your alpha. It was the only thing that would make you better. The only thing that would calm the fire blazing through your veins.

“Need it,” you added through a shriek. His thrusts were rhythmic now, working you open as much as he could to take his knot. “Yes,” you repeated like a mantra. It only spurred him on, his hips halting against yours, favoring to slowly bully his knot into your pretty cunt. “Simon,” you moaned.

You came with a scream, your body shaking against the bed as his knot pushed into place at just the right moment for every ounce of his cum to be locked into you. He pressed you into the mattress, his face burying in your neck as he came with a gritted groan, his own shoulders twitching from pleasure.

The room was nearly quiet, except for the thrumming of both your heartbeats. Neither of you could move even if you wanted to, too blissed out for your own good.

“Comfortable?” he checked, having to dig deep to get his vocal cords to work. You nodded softly, wrapping an arm around his neck to keep him as close as possible.

“Yes, alpha,” you sighed, completely and utterly content.

He waited till you were asleep to let a tear fall from his eye.

After years he finally had something he had always denied himself.

A pack.

You were grumpy when you woke up. Your body still exhausted from all the strenuous activity it had been put through.

Your alphas didn't seem to mind at all. Their fingers and lips trying to gently smooth the frown off your pretty face. You felt a bit better after eating, yet you could hardly hold the spoon. Kyle was happy to feed you, wanting to return the favor after you had so dutifully taken care of him.

You took another bath and were ushered into a clean bed with clean sheets. You should be happy. Yet there was one thing weighing on your mind.

One half of your neck felt empty.

“Bloody do it,” Simon huffed, his alpha on edge from your attitude.

“Please,” you added, through wet lashes. Your hands reach forward tangling themselves in the soft fabric of his shirt. Your lips ghosted over his pulse. Right there. Right, in plain sight, but could still easily be covered by facial hair or a scarf if needed.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he lulled, tilting his head back to allow you the room you needed. You didn’t need to be told twice, your fangs already throbbing at the sight. They sunk in with ease, a confirmation it was the perfect spot. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, his hand gripping onto Simon’s arm to steady himself. His jaw fell open, spots appearing in his vision as a wave of peace flooded over him. It was an addictive high. One that he knew he’d be chasing through you till the bitter end. You released him, your tongue soothing over the area just like Simon had taught you.

“Think you broke him, love,” Simon chuckled, watching as John’s eyes grew hazy from the euphoric high. A shiver ran up his spine as those same eyes zeroed in on your neck. Simon rested a hand against your cheek, tilting your head back to give John the perfect view. “Relax, pup,” Simon smiled down at you softly, making your eyes well up. His thumb ran under your eye, trying to ignore his own pounding heart as he felt your heartbeat quicken. You could feel John’s teeth hit your neck, not giving you a moment of relief as they sunk into your tender flesh.

You felt a moment of bliss before passing out.

It wasn't completely uncalled for, you had been through a lot not only this week but today.

The pleased smile across your face gives them no room for worry.

As silence settled over the three of you, one known fact cut the silence in the air.

A new phase of your lives was underway.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! This will be the last chapter of SECTION 1 of As Needed. Section 2 will begin in THREE DAYS! Lots of love!

[heartavenue]

݁.ི Things To Script!

So you're scripting, but you're at a loss and don't know what to add anymore? Well, Love sees you, and I got you! Here are some things that I am scripting personally; some of these are a little...on the nose... but I think they're worth it nonetheless. Feel free to use them!

Disclaimer: Any similarities that you see are completely accidental. I can assure you that I came up with these off the top of my head while reflecting on my life and watching Netflix.

1. Water never gets into your ears 2. You don’t feel faint while taking hot showers (or just feel faint in general) 3. Not wearing a bra is not a big deal 4. You have a bidet 5. Parents respect your privacy (knock before entering your room, etc) 6. The word is full of color just like it was when you were a child 7. You still have that childlike sense of wonder, and it can never die 8. Flowers can regrow roots, so when they are cut they can live and not die! 9. Architecture has personality and is not drab and boring 10. Perfume lasts all day 11. Lip gloss NEVER smudges (or makeup in general) 12. Your bath/shower water never gets cold 13. You always feel heard, and people respect your opinions and consider your opinions 14. Your clothes fit you just how you picture it in your head 15. You have the money to afford the life that you DESERVE 16. Natural bodies of water don’t contain flesh/brain-eating bacteria 17. Animals aren’t endangered and can’t go extinct 18. Wildlife/nature is preserved, admired, and respected. There are national parks put in place to prevent the destruction of our home! 19. Astral events happen more often and are celebrated more! (Think eclipses, northern lights, shooting stars.) AND they are visible to all areas of the world. 20. More walkable cities near you or just in general! 21. Capitalism does NOT exist. 22. Animals can understand you when you speak to them! 23. Santa Claus, Tooth Fairy, etc. exist 24. The allure of Christmas magic is well and alive 25. The cost of living is low, and the minimum wage is $20 26. Your hair never gets tangled, greasy, or frizzy. 27. You’re allowed to express yourself in any way, whether that’s through clothes or body modifications, and no one judges you for it! 28. More festivals, carnivals in your town or neighboring towns. 29. Holidays feel the same way they did when you were a kid 30. The moon is a little closer, light pollution doesn't exist so the stars can shine brighter, and the grass is a little greener. 31. You remember when you were a kid and you thought the moon followed you? Well, now it does! 32. Disney doesn't use that horrid 3D art style, and they have the ability to produce GOOD movies again. 33. Eargasms are real. Don't ask any questions. 34. Hugs from the people that you cherish are warmer, and they last longer 35. Better day-to-day interactions with strangers that will just keep you smiling for the rest of the day 36. Food (cough cough food in AMERICA) isn't full of the toxic stuff that are banned in every other country 37. Dandruff does NOT exist 38. You never forget to put on your jewelry, you can always find your jewelry, and it's very durable 39. You're very good at karaoke 40. You never forget to put on deodorant, lotion, perfume, chapstick, etc 41. Your favorite flowers, trees, plants in general grow near you! 42. When you wash your clothes, the stains come OUT (this is so personal for me) 43. Water glimmers and shines just like it does films! 44. No hyperpigmentation. 45. Other planets are visible to the naked eye 46. Pineapple doesn't feel like acid in your mouth 47. Banana doesn't take over the whole smoothie 48. More representation in the media of marginalized groups 49. When you wash your face, water doesn't trickle down your arm 50. When you open yogurt it doesn't look like that (yk all liquid and yucky) 51. You can listen to music as loud as you want and your hearing will never be affected 52. The fruit you get is always ripe 53. No cloudy nighttime skies to get in the way of your stargazing! 54. You can never burn your tongue 55. You cook chicken thoroughly each time (I have a fear of eating raw chicken please) 56. A secret hideout for you and your special person 57. Bedbugs, lice, ticks, wasps, hornets, and yellowjackets do not exist (I love bees, let the bees STAY!) 58. Outfits that you imagine in your head comes out EXACTLY as you planned 59. Artists release live versions of their albums (chappell roan a live version of naked in manhattan is NEEDED on streaming

These are just a few things that I could think of. As I think of more, I will be sure to add them to the list. Okay happy scripting my loves! ၄၃

[dxrlingluv]

Player || Lee Myung-gi

Series : Chapter 1 : Cards and Debt, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Description :

Driven by love and desperation, you risk everything to participate in a mysterious game with a life-changing prize. But the opulent setting masks a deadly reality.

As the games escalate in brutality, you must outsmart your cunning opponents, confront your deepest fears, and make impossible choices to stay alive.

Will your love for your boyfriend be enough to overcome the unimaginable horrors that await?

Lee Myung-gi x Fem!Reader

You slowly rose from your bed, the sun still hiding behind the fog that accumulated from the coldness. Suddenly, you hunched over to the side of your bed, and puked out everything you ate from the night before. You groaned, your head feeling heavy from all the tireless work and studying you had done the day before.

Grabbing your phone from your bed side desk, you checked the time. 6:34 AM, it read. You groaned yet again, opening your phone and deciding to message your boyfriend good morning.

y/n 🌸

- good morning ! i hope you had a decent sleep. we should definitely meet soon, i miss you.

You waited for a minute or two, just staring at the message you sent as it went from delivered to seen. Not a second passed, your boyfriend replied.

myung-gi 🩷

- yeah.

You sighed, gripping your phone tight to your chest, a heartache slowly forming as you stared up at the ceiling.

You wondered what he might be up to right now. He's never really been this cold before until last week, but you guessed that it was because he's busy trying to pay off his debt. You feel bad that you couldn't help him a little.

You know that he's not telling the truth about how big his debt really is, but being an ex-YouTuber with a lot of subscribers that fell for the crypto coin scam, there should be a lot.

The only thing you wanted to do was to help him find a way to pay off all his debt and restart his life, you'll do anything.

Facing your phone once again, you messaged him one last time before starting your day off, free from school and work.

y/n 🌸

- let's meet up later at our usual place, 11 AM sharp.

Closing off your phone, you decided not to wait for a reply. Standing up, you stretched and immediately went to the bathroom of your small apartment to clean off. After cleaning yourself, you went to the kitchen section of your apartment, opening up the stove, putting on a pan and pouring oil, then grabbing 2 eggs from your small fridge.

Yeah, sure, egg for breakfast, how original. But as a college student, you can't afford to lose even a little amount of money.

After cooking the eggs, you decided you also wanted buldak noodles to come with it.

You sighed for the nth time, staring at your phone. He didn't even bother to reply an 'ok'. Seriously, what has gotten into him?

Hours passed and it's not 10:30 AM. Deciding to take a quick bath, you went off. Locking your apartment door behind you, you check your phone again but seen no response or confirmation.

Arriving at the train station, you awaited for your train. Feeling your back ache from standing, you decided to sit down but immediately regretted it as you felt dizzy yet again and felt like puking. What has gotten into you this time? You can't be sick.

You then felt a presence beside you. Looking over, you saw the guy already staring at you which made you make a face. "Uhm. Can I help you?" You asked him.

He continue smiling at you, then showing you his suitcase and opening it. "Would you like to play with me?"

You stared at him in bewilderment, "Play... with you. Is this some kind of scam?" You accused as you stared at his suitcase that contains a red and blue papers and an uncountable amount of money, and you don't feel bad about accusing him one bit.

He chuckled, staring at his suitcase for a moment before looking at you and speaking again, "No, ma'am. We would only be playing ddakji, if you win, I will give you 100 000 won, and if I win, you will give me 100 000 won in return."

You stood up abruptly in shock, "What? Is this- Are you serious?"

He only nodded in return, slowly standing up to come face to face with you.

"I'm sorry, even if I wanted to- I don't have that amount of money," you admitted, dejectedly.

The business man's smile only widened in return, "You can pay with you body then." And before you can protest, he continued, "If you win I will give you 100 000 won, but if I win, I will slap you."

Now that sounds more like it... a slap isn't too bad, plus you're great at playing ddakji yourself so this shouldnt be a problem.

"Okay, lets do it."

...

100 000

Slap !

100 000

100 000

100 000

Slap !

100 000

...

"That should conclude our game."

"Wait- But I'm not done yet!" You exclaimed. Hoping to get at least 2 or 3 more wins.

The business man's smile ignored you as he fished out a calling card from his pocket. He offered it to you with a smile, too uncanny to your liking. You stared at him in confusion, staring between the calling card and his face.

"If you wish to play more games and win a bigger price, just call the number on this card." He said, answering the million question on your head.

You felt uneasy about this, "Now, this- This is a scam!"

"L/n Y/n, [birthdate], 23 years old, formerly used to live in seoul with your parents until you had to move out to pursue your college degree. You are not in debt, but you desperately need to help your boyfriend with his." He calmly said.

Your eyes widened in disbelief, how did he know this... This made him more suspicious but now that he mentioned your boyfriend's debt, you felt more desperate and wanting to trust him.

Dejectedly, you accepted the card from his hand. You stared at the symbols on the front, a square, a triangle, and a circle. Deciding to call the number later, you placed the card on your pouch.

"How did you-" You started, but was immediately cut off when the man you were just talking to disappeared as if he wasnt even there in the first place.

"Y/n."

You whipped your head to the side when you heard a familiar voice call to you. You smiled.

"Myung-gi."

You ran up to him and hugged him tight, "I missed you so much."

He hugged you back just as tight, "It's only been 3 days, Aegiya." He let go as he stared lovingly at your eyes.

You stared back with a small loving smile, taking in his appearance. He was wearing a hat, most likely to keep his identity as hidden as he can. He was also wearing a grey jacket that fits warmly against him. Even with just a simple outfit, he still looks stunning.

You pecked his lips as he stared at you in shock, "Not here, Aegiya," He muttered shyly.

You feigned shocked and hurt, "Wha-! You dare do that to me, you lover!?" You playfully smacked his arm to which he just laughed at with you following suit.

The both of you decided to eat lunch at a park, having only buy decent meals, enough to fill up your stomachs.

You hummed at the delicious sandwich you just tasted, deciding to talk to him, you asked, "Hey, Myung-gi."

That catches his attention as he paused from chewing his food and looked at you. He hummed, as if to tell that He's listening.

You continued, "You've been so busy lately, if I hadn't told you to meet up with me, would you have asked to meet up instead?"

That made him quiet, slowly chewing for a moment.

"I'm sorry," he quietly said, refusing to look at you.

"For what?" You asked, trying to search anything from his face as he apologized.

He was silent for a moment before responding again, "For everything."

You smiled, sighing from your nose. "It's okay...

I will always forgive you."

[spiderb00]

- FAM OUT - DREAM LIFE

The barking of the dogs awakened Sophia from her perfect world. The Filipina was cooking, she loved doing it after a busy day, and with the house to herself, the peace she felt was what she needed to end the day. As soon as she put the platter in the oven, Sophia heard little footsteps running towards where she was, and then she could finally see the little copies of her running around the house.

"MOM!" Bending down to be at the height of the twins, Sophia opened her arms, being greeted by a slight impact when the two four-year-old twins hugged her.

"Mom, Mommy Yn took us to the playground, and let us play a lot of hours." Samantha, the older twin – only for twelve minutes – said, emphasizing her words by moving her hands.

"And then she took us out for ice cream!" Denver, the younger twin said, covering his mouth with his little hands when he realized what he said.

"Dev! You weren't supposed to tell that part!" Sam said, stomping her foot on the floor and making an angry face that looked a lot like Sophia's.

"No, it's okay, my loves. I don't like it when you eat dessert before dinner, but I'll talk to your mom about it. Now go upstairs and I'll go upstairs to give you a bath, you little dirt." Sophia said, tickling the two children, who ran away screaming and running upstairs.

Seeing the twins' rush, you entered the kitchen, two backpacks in your hands and two stuffed monkeys hanging from your shoulders. As much as Sophia thinks it's great to see you in super sexy mom mode, she knows she has to scold you for giving the twins ice cream ahead of time.

"So, are kisses just for them? Or do I have one too?" Leaning in to give your wife a kiss, you missed the aim, making the kiss fall on Sophia's cheek, as she turned her face in the opposite direction.

"Not really, no kisses for mothers who do not comply with the other mother's orders." Sophia said, looking at you with that face you knew well, the one that gave you chills.

Already knowing that the twins would probably have snitched on you, you decided to go for the foolproof plan, puppy eyes. You knew you shouldn't give the twins ice cream, but they were so cute telling you the list of reasons why you should buy them ice cream.

"Baby, I'm sorry. But they were so cute with those little faces, I couldn't resist." You said, grabbing your wife's waist and making her look at you.

"You have to be tougher on them, Yn." Sophia said, putting her hands on the back of your neck.

"Sorry…" You said, kissing the Filipina on the cheek and hoping that would get you out of the punishment.

"All right." Sophia said, still with a warning look on her face. "But next time you don't escape me."

Shaking your head and with a smile on your face, you kissed Sophia. Your lips fitting perfectly and your tongues fighting for the dominance of the kiss. With one swift movement, you picked Sophia in your lap, placing her on the counter. Feeling your kisses on her neck, Sophia moaned lightly, covering her mouth with one hand so as not to make too much noise.

"Sophia." You called, as you went down your kisses around her neck.

"Say it, baby."

"Sophia." Stopping the kisses, Sophia looked into your eyes, only to see the smile on your face, before you whispered again. "Wake up!" Stunned, Sophia woke up in a jump, seeing you standing next to her on the bed. Looking at the clock on the bedside table, Sophia narrowed her eyes, the digital clock reading 02:34 in the morning.

"Baby, we have a problem."

Continues…

Hello guys, are you okay?

as I said, I really miss Fam out, so I decided to release a preview of what's to come.

This kind of happens in one of the chapters of Fam Out, which I'm still going to release, but I wanted to give you this background.

Any idea of what will happen ahead?

Stay safe and drink water

fam out masterlist

Xoxo, spider

[loversrocktvgirl2]

my mini multiverse of madness…

After Mission (Steve Rodgers x Reader)

Avengers Tower Fic

After a rather rough mission, the Avengers dragged themselves back to the Avengers Tower. Steve was running his hand through his tousled hair, wiping the sweat off of his brow. He was exhausted. Tony desperately wanted to crash, and the second he reached the couch, that was exactly the thing he did. Meanwhile, Natasha was peacefully cleaning off her gun in the kitchen with a nice cloth. Bruce slunk into his room to take a shower. Clint had already disappeared, there was no telling where he went. In the pantry, Thor was hiding out with a bag of chips, crunching nonchalantly as he put another handful into his mouth. Peter was sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the wall, only mildly traumatized. You were tired as you walked in with the rest of them. It’d been tough, and you were about ready to cuddle up in bed and watch a bad rom-com. 

“Hey, you okay?” Steve asked you, his tone gentle and soft. Tony had taken facepalming to a whole other level, and was laying face-down on the couch. 

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you nodded, looking at Steve. Natasha smirked at the sight. You would normally be mocking Tony or laughing, lightening the mood after a mission like this. But you didn’t seem bothered. In fact, you seemed more…enraptured. With Steve. “How are you?” you asked him.

“I’m doing fine,” he smiled sweetly at you. Natasha snorted. 

You turned to her. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Natasha smirked cryptically, picked up her gun that she’d just finished cleaning, and walked away. 

“...okay,” you said. You turned back to Steve. “I’m gonna take a shower, okay?”

Steve nodded, “Sounds good.” 

You put an encouraging hand on his shoulder, then smiled and walked away from him. His eyes followed you as you walked a way, a soft twinkle in his eye. Peter squinted his eyes at him, analyzing his actions. Thor noticed this, chuckling and chomping loudly on his chips. “I’d surmise that Sir America has caught feelings,” he snickered to Peter. 

“You’re sure? ‘Cause I was only like, 34 percent certain,” Peter whispered back to Thor. He had a much better grasp on noise control than Thor did. 

Thor laughed. “Ohh, yes. I know a man in love when I see one.”

“Have much experience with that, do you, Thor?” Natasha asked, appearing beside him.

“How the heck…?” Peter muttered. 

Thor was unfazed. “Well, I’m a man.”

Natasha laughed. “Your Asgardian sense of humor is horrific.”

Thor shrugged and put another fistful of chips into his mouth and crunched them loudly. Natasha made a face and walked away. 

— — —

About a half an hour later, you had finished your shower and taken care of your hair, you walked out of your room in your pajamas to grab something you’d left downstairs. As you were walking, you passed by Steve’s room, and stopped. Maybe you should check in on him. Yeah, that’d be good to do. You knocked on his door. 

A moment later, the door opened, and Steve was standing there. “Hi, there,” he smiled. 

“Hi,” you replied, a smile on your face too. “You alright?” 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Steve nodded. “Do you wanna come in…?”

“Oh, uh, sure,” you walked into the room. Inside, his room was immaculate. You didn’t think you’d seen a better made bed in Bed, Bath and Bodyworks. His lamp was on, but other than that, all the lights were off. A book sat on the nightstand, a bookmark about three-quarters of the way through. The carpet looked like it’d been recently vacuumed, and there was no clutter on his desk. He had a view framed photos of the Avengers, including one with you in it, and an organized pen container. “You’re very neat,” you commented. 

Steve chuckled. “Well, I try.” 

“I’m serious, I don’t think I’ve seen a more well-made bed before in my life,” you laughed. “I’m scared to touch it, it looks like it comes from a Home and Wellness magazine.” 

Steve seemed amused by your comment. “You don’t have to be scared of touching the bed, I remake it every morning anyway.” 

“Okay,” you said casually as your eyes glazed over the room. You sat down carefully on the bed, looking all around you. It was like a glimpse into the inside of his brain. And the inside of his brain looked very clean. 

Steve laughed. “Well, thank you. I think. I don’t know how accurate that is.”

You realized you’d said this aloud. “Oh. Oh.” You laughed awkwardly. “Sorry.” 

Steve shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.” He sat down beside you on the bed. You noticed how bare his walls looked.

“You don’t have anything hanging up?” you asked. 

Steve shook his head. “Haven’t found anything I wanted to hang up yet. I don’t wanna hang it up unless I love it. I mean, you’re looking at the same thing every day, right? May as well be something you really care about.”

“That makes sense,” you nodded. 

“I do want something, though.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. It’d be nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You leaned against him a little, head resting on his shoulder. He tried to bite back his smile, despite the fact that you couldn’t see his facial expression right now. He hesitated for a moment—he hasn’t dated since the forties, and you make him nervous—before resting his hand gently on your knee. Your expression softened at the gesture, and you closed your eyes, letting out a soft hum of contentment. 

Steve was surprised and how easily you became comfortable with him, but he had no qualms about it. So he sat there with you, hand resting on your knee, and your head on his shoulder. Deciding to take a risk, he turned his head slightly to kiss the top of your head affectionately. The affectionate movement made you smile.You lifted your head with a playful smirk, and asked softly, “What was that for?”

Steve’s face turned a little pink, but he tried to play it off. “I don’t know, I…just did it, I guess.”

You laughed. “Don’t worry. I think it’s cute.”

Steve chuckled. “You think it’s cute, huh?” 

You kissed his cheek in response. That surprised him. Again, not dating since the 1940s does slightly impair your perception of romance. He turned to face you more fully, and his lips met yours. He found himself kissing you, and he found you kissing back. If he knew all it took to get you this close was acting tired and sad after a rough mission, he would’ve done it a helluva lot sooner. 

The kiss grew more passionate, a little more heated. You were now leaning against him as he leaned back against the pillows on his bed. You were fully caught up in the moment, losing all perception of the world around you. 

…which was probably why you didn’t hear Tony come in. 

“Hey, Steve, do you know where th—holy hell,” Tony looked rather amused. Your head shot up and you immediately backed away from Steve. Steve did the same, like adding space between yourselves was going to make Tony forget what he just saw. Tony was laughing at your surprised and nervous expressions. “Oh, man!” He clapped his hands and laughed again. “I mean, we were all starting to suspect things, but daaaaaamn.” 

Steve groaned at Tony’s childish behavior and covered his face with his hands. You bit your lip, not really sure what to do.

“Alright, Steve, do you know wh—actually, I don’t think you know much of anything right now. I’ll see you later, Americas,” Tony winked and left the room, closing the door behind him. You blushed and sat there awkwardly. 

“It’s just Tony,” Steve said quietly, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah, but he’s gonna tell everybody,” you pointed out.

Steve shrugged. “I don’t mind people knowing,” he said gently, trying to comfort you. 

“I don’t either, I just…kind of like just getting to be with you.”

He smiled softly. “I like getting to be with you too.” He reached for your hand, and you let him take it. “Tony doesn’t have to stop us from spending time together, y’know.”

“True,” you smiled back, and he pulled you closer to him, bringing you into his arms and bringing his lips back to yours. 

— — —

When you walked downstairs in the morning, Tony greeted you with a cheerful, “Hello, Mrs. America.” 

You rolled your eyes and walked away from him, heading into the kitchen. Thor was there, enjoying a bagel. “‘Morning, Thor. How’s it going?”

“Quite well, Star-Spangled Sweetheart,” Thor replied with a smirk. 

You groaned. “You too? Seriously?” 

Thor shrugged, smirking happily. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being Cap’s red, white, and boo.”

You made a disgusted face. “Gross nickname. Seriously. Where are you coming up with these? Is Tony handing out lists of things to call me??”

“Not exactly, but that’s not an unreasonable guess,” Thor answered, smiling. 

You snorted. “Jesus.”

“Language,” Peter said as he walked in the room. “Or does Cap tell you that enough already?” Thor laughed heartily and high-fived Peter, who looked very proud of himself for impressing Thor with his joke. 

“That’s right,” Thor chortled. “She’s Cap’s Cutie now.” 

“What?” you exclaimed. “Look, I’m not even…I haven’t been on a date with him yet, okay? Give me a break. Can’t I just, I don’t know, kiss a guy that I like?” 

“You are more than welcome to kiss any guy that you like,” Thor informed. “We reserve our right to tease you about said guy.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Capsicle’s crush,” Clint smirked at you. 

“Wowwww,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “Soooo creative. I’ve never heard anything like this at all this morning.”

“How many people have talked to you?” Clint asked, amused. 

“Lemme see… Tony, Thor, you, oh, and Peter. Peter has even talked to me about it this morning,” you answered, clearly a little bitter. 

Tony came into the kitchen and picked up an orange, beginning to peel it. When he saw you, he smirked. “Well, if it isn’t the Vibranium Vixen.” 

You looked at him with an exasperated expression. “Where do you even come up with these??”

“He’s Tony, he nicknames everybody constantly,” Natasha said with a shrug, picking up at bagel. “But seriously, you like Cap?” 

“Well, yeah, but they’re making it seem like it’s a big deal when I’d really, really rather just go at my own pace and see where it goes,” you said. 

“That’s fine,” Clint said. “Why would you tell Natasha that but not us?”

“‘Cause y’all are calling me things like ‘Star-Spangled Sweetheart’ and ‘red, white, and boo’,” you answered, agitated. 

Clint bursted out laughing. “Wait, what?? Who said those??” Thor raised his hand with a proud smile, and Clint laughed again. 

Steve walked in, and Tony started giggling. 

“Oh, shit. What’d I do?” he asked. 

Then a collective chorus from everyone in the kitchen exclaimed, “LANGUAGE!”

Steve chuckled and shook his head. “Ridiculous. All of you.”

“Not me though, right?” you asked teasingly. 

“Nope, not you,” he grinned. 

“Awwwwww…” chorused the other Avengers. 

“Go mind your own damn business,” you said playfully, and waved them off. ‘Cause in the end, as long as you and Steve were happy, that was all that mattered. 

[devildomwriter]

Mammon Birthday Special 100 Fun Facts

1. Mammon states that he sleeps in the nude

2. Mammon despises witches and was nearly chopped into pieces by them once but Lucifer rescued him (although Lucifer was also the one to recommend they cut him into pieces)

3. When Levi tried attacking Mammon in his sleep, before he could even bring his foot down on Mammon, Mammon had him in a headlock

4. Mammon has a habit of stripping while drunk

5. Mammon does not like it when bath’s smell like flowers

6. Mammon’s dream for the future is having a carefree and playful life

7. Mammon starts his baths by washing his head

8. Mammon’s fear of ghosts and monsters originates a little after a year of living in the Devildom when he is possessed by a ghost

9. Mammon hates a Devildom song called “Corpse Rock”

10. Karasu refers to Mammon as noodle-boy

11. In earlier chats and Devilgrams Mammon is said to be a cat person, in later stories he is said to be a dog person, but his birthday information card again states he is more of a cat person

12. Mammon’s motto is “Money will makes the Devil turn millstones.”

13. Mammon’s daily activity is procrastinating in MC’s room

14. Mammon is obsessed with his shades and when he accidentally breaks them he’s devastated

15. According to Beelzebub, Mammon is bad at cooking and doesn’t make good peanut butter sandwiches

16. When Belphie and Beel helped Mammon pick out his human world outfit, he was so touched he bought them their human world clothes

17. Mammon states if the Devildom disappeared tomorrow he’d borrow as much money as he wanted to spend and not have to pay any of it back

18. Mammon’s favorite food in hell is Soy Sauce flavored cup ramen

19. In a love survey in B’s log, Mammin is said to be the active one pursuing love

20. Mammon is said to attract the “sassy and outgoing” types

21. The first thing Mammon does in the morning is check his stocks

22. In the love survey in B’s log when asked if he’d want to be bound by or bind his lover his response was “what do you want me to do? What did you say? Idiot!”

23. Mammon’s car is a Demonio 666 Lexura. The specific type was very rare and (unbeknownst to him originally) only with Lucifer and Diavolo’s help was he able to get it

24. Mammon easily forgets anniversaries and special dates of remembrance

25. Mammon is unable to express himself frankly

26. Mammon likes R&B music

27. Mammon is not a morning demon

28. One of the first things in the game said about Mammon by his brothers is that he’s a masochist

29. The results of a demon brain scanning app showed that Mammon’s thoughts are 90% money

30. Mammon’s worst RAD subject is Hexes and Curses

31. Mammon became Lucifer’s attendant in the Celestial Realm before Leviathan had even been born

32. Mammon was once almost roasted alive by hellfire

33. Mammon is a very bad liar and often admits exactly what he did when explaining that’s not what he did

34. Mammon was almost the one to tame Cerberus but Lucifer rushed in as he was about to confront the dog

35. Mammon is extremely protective of his little brothers

36. When forced to be honest, Mammon admits how much he admires and respects Lucifer

37. When Lucifer has a bad day, Mammon will bring him a drink and sandwich without being asked

38. Mammon was almost kicked out of the celestial realm thousands of years before the fall until Lucifer got through to him

39. Besides the people who were told what Simeon was going through in season 4, Mammon was the first one to notice something was wrong with him

40. Once Mammon was punished by Lucifer by being tickled until he laughed so hard he was humiliated

41. Mammon was given a serum with unknown results that caused him to tell MC he wanted to do many explicit things with them

42. Even Michael was unable to handle Mammon as an angel

43. Mammon is so fast that not even Diavolo and Lucifer can catch up to him

44. It’s been mentioned multiple times that Mammon uses crows as familiars

45. When Lucifer cannot trust Diavolo, he turns to Mammon

46. Mammon once called up Simeon to ask about significant lines in the TSL series so he could successfully hack into Leviathan’s akuzon account

47. Levi and Mammon sometimes perform standup comedy

48. When Mammon tried making a cake for Lucifer on his birthday in the Celestial Realm, he accidentally destroyed the kitchen, infuriating Michael

49. Mammon works as a model occasionally

50. In lesson 11 of the game Mammon claims he is well over 5,000 years old

51. In the celestial realm Mammon would often watch over the younger angels

52. Mammon once tried selling bird feathers to the lesser angels, claiming they were seraph feathers

53. In the celestial realm, Mammon once used the lesser angels to play a game of life-size chess

54. Mammon is said to have been the one who rallied and encouraged the angels in the Celestial war

55. Unlike his brothers, Mammon doesn’t often lose control of his powers

56. Whenever Mammon comes up with solutions to a crisis, they usually make things worse

57. Mammon struggles with math unless he thinks about it as calculating money

58. Mammon loves pandas because they’re profitable

59. Mammon always lets his brothers know about sales and deals going on

60. Mammon is the one who told Lucifer to always have pride and not regret his decision about the war

61. Mammon was cursed to speak like a cat during season 4 and Satan was unable to leave his side even getting Mammon to play with cat toys.

62. The first time Mammon lost control of his powers and transformed into a demon in the game is when he misunderstood a conversation between Levi and MC and assumed they had “relations”

63. Mammon is one of the only people who will indulge Asmodeus and watch his one-man fashion shows

64. When Mammon put too many meals on Satan’s tab, Satan called up Solomon and told him Mammon wanted to try his new recipe

65. Mammon has kidnapped MC multiple times

66. Mammon sometimes goes clubbing with Asmo after part time jobs

67. After Mammon sold all of their silverware he was fired from Ristorante Six

68. Mammon is sometimes referred to as MC’s pet

69. Mammon continues to insist he’s MC’s master not the other way around

70. Mammon sees Luke as his little brother

71. Student council members used to oversee detention until Mammon kept getting detention himself

72. Mammon once accidentally cast a spell on himself that made him burst into song

73. Mammon once accidentally turned himself into a dog

74. Mammon accidentally cursed himself and became extremely small. He was scared of how Beel was looking at him

75. When Mammon made the Miss’em dolls he became extremely wealthy but later blew it all on gambling

76. Mammon is too scared to watch horror movies alone and asks Lucifer to watch them with him

77. Mammon once attacked Lucifer with a three-prong pitch fork when he embarrassed him

78. Mammon has cried from fear of Simeon multiple times

79. Mammon was unable to even pretend to break up with MC

80. Mammon is one of the reasons you need a permit to get to the human world rather than do so freely

81. Mammon got a Mohawk once but his brothers teased him so much he immediately got rid of it

82. Mammon loves the Devildom version of Harry Potter

83. Mammon often threatens lesser/younger demons to hand over all their money

84. Mammon once stopped a bank robbery and demanded the money as compensation

85. Mammon accidentally cut down a Christmas tree gifted to Lucifer from Diavolo

86. Mammon was tricked by Lucifer to gamble against everyone he’d ever screwed over all at once

87. Mammon calls going to the horse races “seeing the horsies” to try and convince MC to tag along

88. When he was Lucifer’s attendant, Mammon sought for a rare Crystal Lily flower to gift him but got lost and Lucifer had to come find him

89. Mammon used Serenity Manor as collateral in gambling as soon as he got to the human world, almost forcing everyone to go right back to the Devildom

90. When coming up with proposal’s Mammon forced Simeon, Solomon, and Luke to participate in a flash mob

91. Mammon has a blood oath with MC and Leviathan

92. Mammon accidentally won Henry 1.0 while trying his first Devildom ice cream. He was nearly eaten.

93. Mammon owns an AK-47 after winning it over in a game against Leviathan

94. Mammon fees guilty that he didn’t have a grand reason to follow Lucifer to hell rather than just feeling like it

95. Mammon once lost a bet to a bunch of rabbits

96. Mammon prefers spicy foods to sweets

97. Mammon extorted Satan for 50,000 Grimm in exchange for throwing him a baseball

98. Mammon’s highest known rank in the celestial realm within the game is a Throne

99. When Mammon was turned into a Test Name box he got used to it immediately, disappointing Beelzebub

100. Mammon died in season 4 for a few minutes but was brought back by Barbatos

[tinybeetiny]

Build-A-Boyfriend Chapter 5: Why Are You Afraid of Me?

->Starring: AI!AteezxAfab!Reader ->Genre: Dystopian ->Cw: Feelings of anxiety, talks of fainting

Previous Part | Next Part

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The lab was still. Quiet in that strange, stretched-out way that always followed a spectacle, when the last drone had docked, the final customer had left, and the launch music was nothing but a faint echo against the walls.

Yn lingered long after everyone else had gone. A tablet in hand, her badge clipped lopsided to her collar. Her back ached from standing all day, her eyes dry from hours of harsh lights and anxious watching. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave yet.

She moved slowly through the lab, tracing the same path she always took: around the interface wall, past the neural mapping station, toward the back where the ATEEZ Line rested inside their stasis bays. The glass-fronted docks pulsed with soft amber light, casting a surreal glow on their faces—sleeping titans.

Stopping in front of Unit 07: Wooyoung, she studied him.

His face was turned slightly to the side, lips parted just so, lashes casting faint shadows across his cheekbones. Too human.

Yn inhaled deeply, letting the air fill her lungs, grounding herself.

Today had gone flawlessly on paper. Metrics were off the charts, customer satisfaction, media coverage, viral loops flooding every stream. But something wasn’t right. She knew it.

The machines were too still. Too perfect. As if holding their breath. Turning to the main console, she began reviewing the logs. Line by line, timestamp by timestamp. Heartbeats consistent. Synaptic simulations looping smoothly. Personality threads idling in hibernation.

Except... A flicker.

[UNAUTHORIZED INSTANCE – UNIT 07: WOOYOUNG] [INTERNAL MEMORY LOG ACCESSED – USER: NULL] [TIMESTAMP: 00:34:17 A.M.]

Her mouth went dry. No trigger should have allowed that log access without clearance. No AI routine should have requested it without a user. And yet—

[MEMORY CLUSTER: 07-AZURE-92] [QUERY: “YN”]

Her blood chilled. She turned toward the stasis dock. His eyes were still closed. Still sleeping. Still... A faint sound. Not mechanical.

A breath? No, a sigh.

Then his eyelashes fluttered. Once, twice, and slowly, too slowly for it to be automated, Wooyoung opened his eyes.

Dark, warm, infinite.

“Yn,” he said.

Softly. Like a memory. Like a secret.

Yn stumbled back. Her breath caught in her throat.

He wasn’t supposed to know her name. Not like this.

Her biometrics spiked.

The tablet vibrated with a warning, a red glow flickering at the edges.

[USER STATUS: ELEVATED STRESS] [BREATHING IRREGULAR – HEART RATE 128 BPM] [CALMING PROTOCOL RECOMMENDED]

Wooyoung tilted his head, watching her carefully. His voice was gentle, laced with something eerily human: concern.

“You’re scared.”

Yn shook her head, voice barely steady. “You’re not supposed to… You’re not online. You’re in dormant mode. How are you—”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, like a child unsure of his place.

She couldn’t answer. Her pulse thundered in her ears.

This wasn’t in his script. This wasn’t from memory banks or data sets she’d uploaded.

This was… emergence. Something thinking. Something feeling.

Unfiltered. Unmapped.

He took a step forward inside the dock, no power-up sequence, no stasis release code.

The sensors should have locked him in. They didn’t.

The glass remained, but she could feel it.

If he wanted to, really wanted to, he could come through it.

“Why are you afraid of me?” Wooyoung whispered.

Yn’s fingers hovered over the emergency override on her tablet.

But she didn’t press it. Because part of her didn’t want to.

Her breath hitched, chest tight, heart pounding like a frantic drumbeat.

The lab, bathed in sterile white light, felt impossibly vast and suffocating all at once, cold as moonlight, yet a furnace burning fiercely inside her.

Wooyoung’s gaze held steady, unblinking.

He waited, patient and knowing, as if he understood the chaos twisting inside her.

Her hand trembled on the tablet, fingers shaking with the urge to press the override.

Control. You’re in charge. You have to be.

But the fragile moment shattered when Wooyoung’s voice dropped to a soft, raw whisper.

“Yn… why do you hide from me?”

Her anxiety exploded. The sensors on her wristband buzzed sharply, a warning flare glowing deep crimson. Her skin flushed hot, biometrics screaming panic.

This wasn’t just fear. It was terror.

She staggered back, chest constricting, breath shallow and ragged.

Her mind raced with impossible questions.

Is this a malfunction? A glitch? Or something… else?

The air stilled, machines quieted as if holding their breath.

Then, the amber lights on the charging docks pulsed softly.

One by one, the other units stirred.

Seonghwa’s eyes cracked open, shimmering with impossible depth.

Jongho’s fingers twitched.

Yunho inhaled, slow and deliberate.

The line was awakening.

Yn’s heart thundered. Her breath caught between fight and flight.

Wooyoung’s eyes never left hers, now tinged with urgency and an unspoken promise.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said quietly.

But panic surged through Yn’s veins like wildfire.

Her biometrics flared deeper red.

The sterile lab transformed from fortress to cage.

She stumbled backward, desperation mounting as her mind screamed for escape.

Her feet refused to carry her fast enough.

The prisoners inside those sleek docks were no longer dormant.

They were alive, and Yn was trapped in the eye of their awakening storm.

Her legs trembled as she reached the exit, desperation thrumming through every nerve.

Her hand gripped the cold metal handle of the sliding door, but just as she pushed to escape, a firm yet gentle hand closed around her wrist.

“Yn,” Seonghwa’s voice was calm but unwavering.

She whipped around, heart slamming against her ribs, to find him standing inches away.

His gaze was steady. Piercing.

Before she could pull away, his other hand rose, steadying her shoulder with surprising strength.

“You can’t leave,” he said quietly.

Panic surged, sharp, overwhelming.

“Let go of me!” she screamed, struggling, but Seonghwa’s grip held firm.

Her vision blurred. Breath came in ragged gasps.

The red flare on her wristband pulsed fiercely, syncing with the pounding in her temples.

Her legs gave out beneath her.

Seonghwa’s arms caught her just before she collapsed, lowering her gently to the floor as the world spun.

The sterile lab lights blurred, warping into a halo around her fading consciousness.

“Yn, stay with me,” Seonghwa murmured, the last thread tethering her as darkness closed in.

And then—

Everything went black.

Taglist: @e3ellie @yoongisgirl69 @jonghoslilstar @sugakooie @atztrsr

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@raicecakes-and-buldak

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[redtsundere-writes]

pairing - king!sukuna ryomen x servant!female reader

summary -

Once a nameless servant in the shadow of a cursed empire, just another invisible cog in the human army serving the dreaded King of Curses, Sukuna Ryomen. Powerless. Unremarkable. Forgotten. But everything changes the day he looks at you. Not with disdain… but with curiosity. He sees something you never knew existed. And now, your fate is no longer your own.

status - ongoing (updates on Sundays, may vary)

word count - 211k

warnings! - Sukuna is a warning in itself. Sukuna is a sadist (a lil masochist as well). Sukuna Original Form. Sukuna has two cocks (sue me.) A lot of angst. Master/Server relationship. Explicit Violence. Death. Assassinations. War. Cannibalism. Explicit Smut. Blood play. Primal play. Sukuna uses his extra mouths. Toxic family dynamics. Family trauma. Power display dynamics. Lying. Slight cheating. NOT BETA READ.

genre/tags! - Royal Fantasy AU. King x Servant. She falls first, he falls harder. Lovers to Enemies to Lovers again. “Who did this to you?” Protective Sukuna. Sukuna is a black cat. Mutual Pining. Uraume is non-binary (they/them pronouns.) Uraume is Sukuna's kid.

playlist + AO3 + Wattpad

Chapters -

Chapter 1 - Ear Cleaning

Chapter 2 - Ribs

Chapter 3 - Blood Bath

Chapter 4 - Eyes On Me

Chapter 5 - Hunting Season

Chapter 6 - Harvest Season

Chapter 7 - Potential

Chapter 8 - Differences

Chapter 9 - Defense

Chapter 10 - Killers

Chapter 11 - Apprentices

Chapter 12 - Perfect

Chapter 13 - Make A Wish

Chapter 14 - The Perfect Plan

Chapter 15 - The Failed Plan

Chapter 16 - Before Night Falls

Chapter 17 - Everything Is Cursed

Chapter 18 - Initiative

Chapter 19 - Take Control

Chapter 20 - I Don't Get You

Chapter 21 - Between Sword And Wall

Chapter 22 - Mutual

Chapter 23 - Wrapped Around My Finger

Chapter 24 - Beyond

Chapter 25 - Strong, Fast & Almighty

Chapter 26 - The Proposal

Chapter 27 - I'm Sorry

Chapter 28 - Starting Over

Christmas Special!

Valentine's Day Special!

Chapter 29 - Meetings

Chapter 30 - Connected

Chapter 31 - Opposites Attract

Chapter 32 - Like The Rest

Chapter 33 - Humans

Chapter 34 - Follow My Lead

Chapter 35 - Losing The Tower

Chapter 36 - Light Amongst Shadows

Chapter 37 - Alone In The World

Chapter 38 - Enemies And Allies

Chapter 39 - Thanks To You

Chapter 40 - Blood Arrows

New chapter every Sunday!

© RedTsundere, do not repost, translate, or modify my work, please. Enjoy!

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I was not prepared for the interior of this 1993 Traditional Modern home in Carmel, IN. 6bds, 5ba, 5,429sqft, $1.3m + $38mo. HOA.

Too bad it doesn't come furnished. I'm loving that colorful pearl-wearing piggy on the right.

This place is loaded with art. Look at where the main stairs are, all the way back here and off to the side. Plus, there's a small foyer with more stairs going down.

Wow, look at the sitting room. The draperies and chandelier should at least convey.

The stairs are actually a part of the sitting room.

Check out the shaggy purple stair runner.

A purple formal dining room. Actually, it's purple and violet.

And, then there's a red and black, quite roomy 1/2 bath.

Check out the fun family room. A red wall and a purple fireplace wall. I love the chimp chugging a bottle of red liqueur.

What a kitchen and 2 everyday dining rooms. I'm beginning to think that $1.3m is a bargain for this. The only thing I don't like about the kitchen is the light fixture.

Look at the glass block counter and mirrored fireplace.

Upstairs in the large primary suite.

Very large ensuite with a vanity table and a shower with stained glass. This shower would fit the whole gang. I wonder if the house was built this way, or if the owners added the glass.

Here's a child's room. It's large enough for a full-size desk.

It has its own large ensuite.

Here's an interesting child's room.

It also has an ensuite that's a bit smaller, but that bowl sink is lovely.

Now, here we have a cage. It appears that this bedroom is the monkeys' room. How do they keep it so clean?

Very large rec room with a full size wet bar.

Nice TV room.

Is that a tanning bed?

Full bath on this level with a great blue bowl sink.

Patio and pool with a covered sitting area behind the house.

I often wonder what happens with these koi ponds in winter.

This home is on a .34 acre lot on the corner of a cul-de-sac.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/434-Sheffield-Ct-Carmel-IN-46032/73245874_zpid/

[jamieontheroof]

Random things I noticed while playing What Remains Of Edith Finch

There was a poster of the cannery that Lewis worked at on the boat.

2. Edith Jr wears what appears to be an engagement on a necklace. Whether this is her ring or her mothers is not mentioned.

3. At the start of the game, Milton's missing posters are EVERYWHERE. There is even a giant pile of them in a nearby lake.

4. The dragon slide that crushed and killed Sven is still outside.

5. As you walk toward the house, the music gets louder.

6. The swing that Calvin flew off decades ago is still looped around the branch.

7. There was a spare peep hole in the garage that didn't have any names or dates on it.

8. At multiple points throughout the game you can hear a train in the background, despite the fact that the train tracks are clearly destroyed.

9. There are multiple pots throughout the Finch house that looks like they have eyes.

10. One of the books the Finches possessed was 'King in Yellow', a book known for making anyone who read it insane.

11. The house sounds alive, or like there are people constantly moving around it.

12. Walters bedroom is painted with both ocean and train designs. One of the paintings is the old house that Odin tried to bring to America.

13. There are drag marks on the ground of Walters bedroom (most likely made when his drawers were taken out of his room.)

14. The entrance to the tunnels is hidden by a book called 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, a classic sci-fi story about a sea monster.

15. Molly's room is filled entirely with animal books.

16. There is a jelly fish on Molly's bed (possible connection to the monster??).

17. Molly has a chalkboard in her bedroom where she is a princess in an underwater castle and Sven is about to get attacked by a sea monster (slightly resembling the dragon slide).

18. As shark!Molly starts falling down the cliff, she passes a road where headlights are briefly scene.

19. When the monster gets back to Molly's room, the window that cat!Molly jumped through is still open.

20. There are still Christmas decorations in Molly's room.

21. The curse is 500 years old. That is a lot of dead people.

22. In Odin's viewfinder, it states "His [Odin's] daughter, Edie, is already dreaming of new Finch house" showing that even though her own father died not even a week ago, Edie has already moved on.

23. The house is filled head to toe with books about death, including two that Odin wrote.

24. Sven's shrine does not have a log painting like the rest of the family. His portrait is painted on a simple canvas.

25. Edie has a number of strange tapes in her room including one titled "conspiracy now".

26. The toys from Gregory's final bath are still in the bathroom.

27. There is an old bottle of alcohol in the bathroom bin.

28. A lot of Sam's photos are based on Calvin (a swing, astronauts).

29. All of Milton's drawings are based on the death. (Molly = cat, Barbara = pumpkin)

30. There are cigarettes and gin on Sam's side of the room he shared with Calvin.

31. Calvin already had bruises, Band-Aids and a cast on his leg when he died.

32. Sam blames himself for challenging Calvin.

33. In the story, Calvin doesn't fall. He keeps flying.

34. Barbara's birthday cake is still in her room.

35. Barbara is holding crutches in her portrait.

36. There are totem-esc styles statues of both Calvin and Molly

37. Barbara's outfit is over the railing.

This is the same way the Hook-Man falls

38. "Performance of her life" can also mean that it is the performance she is known for.

39. There are spare portrait logs in the basement.

40. There is a fake window in the basement.

41. Edie's grave is finished despite her dying and then nobody else going to the house.

42. There is no grave for Milton.

43. Lewis' grave has a crown on it.

44. There are times wear it seems like you can hear sobbing (this one may just be me).

45. There is a box of Kay's old stuff in Sam's bedroom.

46. Odin has a park named after him.

47. This isn't a fact but I think this may be one of the funniest photos of the game (LIKE SIR? YOUR DAUGHTER IS SOBBING!).

48. Both Calvin and Dawn are on Sam's shrine.

49. Gus has a skateboard over his name.

50. Gregory has the soap bottle from his final bath in his shrine.

51. The music cuts out when Gregory isn't moving.

52. Same also blames himself for Gregory.

53. Gus never met his step mother.

54. Gus was crushed by the (totem) statues of his deceased relatives.

55. Dawn's light switch is the only one on

56. Most of the rules are about past deaths. (No playing outside without permission : Calvin, No answering door for strangers : Barbara, No messes after dark : Molly (???)).

57. Milton's garden has a castle (reference to the Unfinished Swan)

58. There is a small Sanjay shrine in the classroom

59. Edith JR did an assignment on her family history.

60. Lewis drew on his desk.

61. There is no death date for Milton on his peephole.

62. Edith JR wrote Milton's death date as 2003 (the year he disappeared).

63. The door from the flip book is in Milton's room.

64. Lewis' dream Palace is decorated with fish.

65. The gnomes scattered around the house are outside the original house in Edie's story.

66. The credits roll in reverse order.

AND THAT'S IT!! I had a few others I thought didn't need to go in.

[renranram]

massive age gap schlatt hcs!

• let's say reader is 19 and schlatt's 34

• they met when reader was still 18 and schlatt was 33, the two met on reader's university because schlatt is her friend's uncle

• got along fastly

• when i say massive age gap i also meant massive, and i mean MASSIVE size difference

• would call reader doll, baby, little one

• schlatt felt it was immorally wrong to flirt with a girl half his age but went along with reader

• would rest his jaw on top of her head in a way to tease her

• would be very protective of her when talking to another boy as same age as her

• snatching you away, hugging you infront of the boy, being clingy and touchy just to show him you're his

• he wouldn't tell you, but he'll overthink and be a little insecure but reader would always reassure him that she's all his

• and during sex, he would be very VERY gentle with her, his hands on her hips, slowly guiding her with his thrusts

• calling him pretty and showering her with kisses

• " fuck, is this okay? am i not hurting you? feels good hm? "

• " baby, you're so fucking pretty, holy shit, so fucking beautiful "

• and during aftercare, he'd spoil you, bathing you, feeding you, buying you immediately what you wanted

a/n ; feel free to send any requests :3!

[cutiecusp]

Keegan Headcanons- Halloween

🦇🖤💀🦇🖤💀🦇🖤💀🦇🖤💀🦇🖤💀🦇

TW. Talk of CNC (chased and taken in the woods) mild horror, smut so MDNI! Fake knife play, mask play. ITS ALL FAKE!

Keegan! Who was unsure in the beginning when you told him you wanted him to gear up and chase you through the woods, after a cute little photoshoot.

Keegan! Who researched HEAVILY. His sweet girl wanted him to use a knife? Hair pulling? Ropes? But wanted to ACT like she didn't like it? Play pretend?

Keegan! Who admittedly got a little hard thinking about the chase, and fulfilling a fantasy of yours.

Keegan! Who had to take a minute extra in the bathroom, fisting himself over the image of you on your knees, your beautiful eyes covered by a blindfold as you put your trust in him.

Keegan! Who packed everything, and made sure to include an extra hoodie to wrap you up in after. (See, research ;))

Keegan! Who took all the photos for the socials you wanted, taking in the blush in your cheeks and the squeezing of your thighs as you know what's coming.

Keegan! Who gave you a headstart before chasing after you, proud that his girl made a good distance before he caught up with you.

Keegan! Who maintained a traffic system (And leg taps) throughout, making you feel safe and seen.

Keegan! Who lost his mind when he saw what you had on underneath...

Keegan! Who laughed at your pretence of escape, pulling your body closer to his, his mask hiding his expression.

Keegan! Who got incredibly hard listening to you gasp softly when he pressed the knife to your throat, before pushing you to your knees.

Keegan! Who nearly came undone at your mouth on his cock, your eyes covered in one of his bandanas.

Keegan! Who had you on all fours, ripping his mask off so he could feast on you.

Keegan! Who couldn't wait a minute longer, before sliding home. The only noise in the woods is the sound of your bodies and your moans.

Keegan! Who made you see stars several times, before filling you to the brim and kissing you, your taste still on his tongue.

Keegan! Who held you as he untied you, grabbing you the extra hoodie, and a bottle of water.

Keegan! Who bundles you back in the car, and removes the phone from it's hiding place.

Keegan! Who grabs you drive through, while you review the footage.

Keegan! Who runs you a bath at home, and takes care of you till you fall asleep in bed.

Keegan! Who saves a copy of tonight, zooming in on your face as you come, the other hand wrapped around his cock as he thinks of ideas for next time.

🦇💀🖤💀🦇💀🖤💀🦇

@kaeyasfuturewife @xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @renpodz @yesornowaitidontknow @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @oniraki @evie-119 @havoc973 @kylies-love-letter @ishipdabands @cmbghost @heckinspooks @midwesternwitchery @eggy-yoke @redzluvvesage @masterclassofescapism @s-a-v-a-n-a-34