Assorted MGG Characters | Oneshots

Conflicted (Caleb, E)

Summary: Blurb. Caleb was good at resisting temptation... and then you came along.

Rating: Explicit (NSFW, 18+) 

Content Warning: Mutual masturbation, riding a pillow, brief/minor breeding kink mention, religious references

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All things considered, Caleb did not consider himself to be a weak man. Sure, he had been through two divorces at a relatively young age, but he was only a man, after all. No one is free from sin, and the wiles of the devil are even more appealing to those still firmly in their youth.

But Caleb was older now. He could resist temptation. Even from you.

Even late at night, when there is nothing between you but paper thin walls that are practically shaking from the sound of your moans alone.

He shuts his eyes, delicately at first but they start to clench as you somehow become even more dedicated to your craft of torture.

It was not enough for you to have sauntered down the hall practically naked for the past week, every single day when he left for work and each night when he returned. You hadn't done enough to hurt him by insisting to drop one of your intimates in front of his door with every load of laundry. You, the temptress and his greatest vice, made sure to invite him in no matter the hour or circumstances. That night, you took your daring one step further. His polite rejection had stirred something cruel inside of you.

"Caleb..." you whimper, and he wonders how it's possible that he hears you so clearly.

He hopes you say it again.

"Fuck me, Caleb," you oblige.

He tells himself he is a strong man, even though he wants you. Despite his hips starting to rock against the pillow firmly held against him, he reminds himself of the victory over your temptation.

But he can't stop the visions filling his mind. Visions of you, with your legs spread wide and your fingers dipping between slick, velvety walls. He is already drunk on the fantasy of the heady scent of sex.

One of his hands is splayed over the pillow that he ruts against hard. It's wrong, he thinks, that it feels so good but still pales in comparison to the mere thought of you. His other hand clamps over his mouth as desperate whines start to escape.

Two fingers slide into his mouth, and he imagines them tasting like you. He sucks on them harder, picturing you straddling him with his cock deep enough that he can feel it fill the empty space just below your womb.

"Harder, Caleb," you cry.

He fucks his pillow harder.

"I'm gonna—" he gasps, and your moans become even more insistent. He can practically feel your throat strain in his own as you both drown in the cacophony of licentious sobs and screams.

"Come for me, baby," you beg, "Please, Caleb. Inside of me."

And he knows. He knows you can hear him, and he doesn't care.

He wants you to hear the way he moans, the sound of your devilish name on a heavenly tongue. He clutches the pillow with both hands and gives one final thrust and imagines himself filling you to the brim. He pictures the way it would spill back down his cock only for him to force it deeper until you accept your role in his bed.

Caleb shutters as the reality of what he's done hits him like a freight train. He is met with silence in the clarity, until a sleepy, sated little temptress purrs,"Goodnight, Caleb."

"Goodnight," he answers to the devil in the other room.