Archive of Our Own

The dull pang of the basketball bouncing across the court matched in tandem with Caleb’s heartbeat, and the pace picks up sporadically as Caleb weaves past another player. The ball never strays from his palm, magnetic as his charisma.

It rolls off his finger tips, soaring in an arch across the court—

Swoosh.

He scores.

The crowd’s cheers echo in the stadium, drowning out the other teams’ frustrated shouts to each other. His team claps him on the back, congratulating him on yet another save.

They didn’t know his new lucky charm, though.

You.

—

Caleb’s jaw slackens against the table as your fingers push deep and firm against his tense muscles, eyes fluttering shut in relaxation. Your soft, doughy palms felt like heaven, and he found himself having to stifle a groan as he melted to your ministrations like usual.

Caleb had been seeing you for a while now, ever since his shoulder started acting up after a few back-to-back games. He’d been a bit skeptical about how helpful PT would be; he felt all his last therapists hadn’t done much in helping a few of his chronic pains and tenseness that had him fumbling shots. But the moment he laid face down on the table and your touch had caressed him, all doubts flew out the window.

The thing is with Caleb, he could only be at his A-game when he experienced a satisfying high.

Well, with the relief you granted him, his performance had skyrocketed. He’d consistently been scoring like crazy every since he started seeing you. Yet, he found himself greedily craving more at the same time. Like you were satisfying his hunger, yet lulling his appetite into something needier.

And, fuck. It didn’t help how cute you always looked, giving him sweet smiles and encouraging words. Caleb either must be really touch starved, or a pervert— or both— to be this turned on by his PT’s mere touch.

But it was more than just your hands and your pretty face. He always looked forward to making conversation with you as you worked, even as you lulled him into a half-asleep state. His heart skipped two beats every time you laughed at his silly jokes, his brain hungrily storing away each and every fact about yourself that you’d occasionally let slip. You were just being friendly and doing your job, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want you badly.

“Andddd, you should be all set,” your lovely voice snapped him out of his blissful daydreams, and sour disappointment sullied his expression when he registered your hands leaving his body as you finished his massage.

Already? Caleb lifted himself up, mind scrambling for any excuse. “Ah- actually, I have a minor complaint.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Really? Tell me where.”

“My neck,” he blurted, embarrassed at his own desperation. You only nodded, immediately having him lay down on his back.

“Do you recall when or why it started to hurt?” Caleb momentarily doesn’t register your question, lost in how good your fingers feel prodding lightly at his neck. It tickles, but also sends a pulse of heat down his spine.

“No,” he breathes quietly, and you lean in, gaze razor focused on the jumping pulse on his neck.

“Where does it hurt? Right—” your thumb grazes just beneath his jaw, “here?”

“Lower,” his throat dips heavily as your fingertips caress the thick tendon of his neck, and he sweats his whole body shudders.

“There.” He barely mumbles the word as you lean in closer. So close Caleb can count every one of your eyelashes, feel your cool breath waft over his cheek.

Fuck. He should’ve just left when he had the chance. This is bad. He’s so rock-hard in his pants that he has no idea how he’s going to escape without you seeing his erection through his gym shorts. His abs tighten as you hum, and press your fingers firmly at the tendon.

He can’t help it. A trembling groan spills from his lips, and Caleb immediately flusters at the humiliating sound. But you only smile and giggle, not thinking much of it.

Before he knows it, at the sight of your pretty lips parting and that teasing laugh, his abs are clenching again, hot pleasure sparking between his legs.

And he cums untouched.

A sticky, hot mess pools in his boxers, legs shifting slightly on the table as he manages to constrain his whimpers, eyebrows knitting together in pleasure.

You raise your own, gaze darting to his odd movements, but thankfully you say nothing, not noticing anything out of the ordinary until he’s sitting up so fast his head nearly thwacks into yours.

“S-sorry,” Caleb pants, jumping off of the table shakily as if burned. “I just realized I have somewhere to be. Right now. We-we can reschedule!”

“Oh- uhm, it’s okay,” you start, trailing off as he’s rushing out of the room on legs that are slightly— trembling?

Leaving so abruptly is very much unlike Caleb, and you feel a bit confused and slightly disappointed at his suddenness. He was acting weird, avoiding your gaze and making different facial expressions, all while fighting that distinct shakiness in his voice.

He’s probably…sick. Likely due to overworking himself. You frown to yourself, concern settling in your chest. You hope he feels better soon.

You settle cozily in your bed as the video plays loudly through your headphones, wide eyes never straying from your screen. Caleb’s game is on today— and even though you’re not much of a sports fan— after you saw his last few amazing shots, you’ve made sure not to miss a single one.

He looks as good as ever even through a camera, focused furrow on his brow as he’s passed the ball by one of his teammates. You sit up, following his every move towards the net, his fakes and skillful manuevering.

You watch raptly as he throws the ball, shoots—

And misses.

You blink, lips parting in shock. His hands fly to his head as the ball bounces off the rim and onto the court, whistles shrieking as the buzzer marks the end of the game. They lost.

You shut off your phone and ponder what you just saw. Caleb never misses a shot like that. Was his shoulder pain flaring up again? Did he pull something?

You’re still left wondering about it that night as you nestle under your covers, sleepily pondering why.

Caleb tugs roughly at his cock, callouses dragging across every vein. He tightens his grip, and if he fantasizes hard enough, he can almost imagine it’s your pussy hugging his shaft instead of his hand.

It’s wrong, but— God, help him, he needs a release badly.

His tip swells an angry red, flushed cock rock hard in his grip to the point where it’s painful. The thought of your sweet sounds and expressions makes him almost cum right then and there.

“Fuck,” he hisses, white-hot pressure rushing up his groin. Shame mingles with the pleasure at the thought of his teammates knowing the real reason he fumbled that shot— you. While your touch used to calm him, now it’s only succeeding in getting him riled up. His cock aches for you.

Caleb’s jaw slacks at the pleasure, eyebrows raising. “Nghh, fuck fuck, please,” his whimpers echo against the walls, rebounding his needless begging. Pitiful groans spill from his mouth, and his teeth dig into his bottom lip as if to muffle them, though he’s alone in his bedroom.

His hand pumps faster, desperate for the high that’s drawing near. The friction is raw, his nerves overly sensitive. He imagines he feels the ghost of your skilled, soft hands against his shaft, and it undoes him.

His hips buck, his balls draw tight— and he’s cumming, tip spurting ropes of hot cum all across his clenched abs, painting the muscle with his need.

“Fuck,” Caleb pants, throat bobbing as he blinks at the mess he made in the sheets, yet he can’t find it in him to be regretful. Though his cock softens in his hand, and his arousal is satiated for now, the ache in his chest doesn’t cease, and he know it won’t until he sees you again.

You lay the sheets onto the table, anxiously rubbing your hands together as you await your favorite— your only— client.

You’d been seeing Caleb for a while now, and he was one of the better clients you’d worked with. He was kind, patient, and gentle— in a way some male athletes were not. It didn’t help that he was devastatingly handsome, but you are a professional, even if you were dealing with a brunette who’s all 6’2 of lean muscle and sunkissed skin.

“Hey. You ready for me?” Caleb smiles as he peeks his head into the room, and you can’t help but grin back.

“Always. I mean, yes. Come in.”

If he notices your fumble, he doesn’t mention it, taking a seat on the table. He’s only in short shorts, revealing every inch of his torso and legs.

“Just showered. Hope that’s okay,” he explains, settling onto his back.

“Of course, that’s perfect.” You flush at your own words, mentally chiding yourself for the way you’re acting. You busy yourself with snatching the bottle of oil up and lathering it over your hands.

The muscles on his stomach jump as you press your palms to his abs, slowly spreading the oil across his skin. The harsh ridges of his muscles gleam alluringly, highlighting every inch of his strength. Your mouth goes a bit dry.

It was undeniable how attractive he was.

You get to work kneading at his chest, rubbing out any knots upwards with your knuckles. A sinful groan emits from him and your heart jumps. You press a tad too firmly onto his shoulder in response.

“Are you doing okay?” You ask absentmindedly, in a daze with how smooth his skin feels.

“Uh, uh huh,” he pants, eyes half lidded. “Feels so good.”

You immediately feel a flush crawl across your face at his raspy choice of words, but quickly brush off your dirty thoughts. It’s a massage, of course he feels relaxed. It’s not like—

He’s hard.

Your gaze darts pointedly away from the tent between his legs, and you clear your throat, trembling hands pressing a few hurried squeezes to his thick bicep. “Well, uh, good!”

Great, you think, biting your lip. You’re supposed to be massaging at his thighs, but that would mean being closer to his…

Fuck it. You’re a professional, after all. And it’s just a normal, bodily reaction men have sometimes. No big deal.

You tell yourself this as your begin massaging at his thigh, and— woah. His leg is so thick and strong that you lose yourself in feeling it more than massaging it. But it’s probably not impressive as the size of that—

You shake off your thoughts. Ogling your client? You must be out of your mind.

“So was the loss due to some pains or stresses I should know about?” You blurt out the question in your frenzy, then immediately cringe at how rude you sound. Thankfully, Caleb doesn’t seem to mind, though he does avert his gaze sheepishly.

“Not exactly.” It’s not the most clear response, but you smartly decide to drop the subject, even if his vagueness only sparks your curiosity.

“Alright,” you slip your hands higher up his thigh, squeezing at the muscle soothingly, fresh heat rising to your cheeks at the sound he makes. God, this is torture. You squeeze your thighs together and try to ignore the pulse between your legs. It doesn’t work.

The rest of the session goes smoothly— if trying not to be eye-to-eye with his erection counts as smooth— and as soon as you’re home, you’re dropping your gym bag in favor of a cold shower. You’d be lying if you said your hand didn’t slip between your legs once or twice.

It’s a few days after that shameful night that Caleb contacts you again.

You stare down at your phone, stomach flipping. It’s normal for him to ask that, especially when you hadn’t seen him in days— his practices likely kept him booked and busy as the next upcoming game was a highly anticipated one.

But the thought of showing up to his place this late? You feel oddly jittery.

You’re in his building before you know it, pushing the button to his floor. The doors slide open with a ding, and you take slow, measured steps to his room, before pausing outside. You’re a few minutes early. Do you seem too eager? You don’t want to look too eager, even though you are—

“Hi,” Caleb swings the door open before you can even knock, a bright smile on his face.

“Hey,” you clear your throat, momentarily dazzled, before you remember yourself and step inside. Immediately, your eyes are drawn around the apartment. You’d been before, but never ditched the opportunity to see the nice place he lived in.

“Sorry, it’s a little messy,” he rubs the back of his neck, though not a single thing seems out of place. You follow him into the bedroom, and though it’s not unfamiliar to do his massage there, the idea still makes your stomach flip.

“Lay down for me,” you prompt, and he does so obediently, peering at you through his lashes.

You begin at his arms, slowly prodding at the thick muscle and trying not to marvel at how it’s they’re the size of your head. As you do your job, though, it becomes harder and harder not to notice his nervous shifting, how tense he feels underneath your hands.

“Caleb, has something been…bothering you?” You inquire slowly, expecting him to outright deny it like last time, but to your surprise, he inhales shakily.

“It’s…a bit hard to explain,” he starts, and the nervousness in his voice makes you pause.

You hesitantly perch on the bed beside him, and his eyes widen, dragging up the length of you before darting away. “You can tell me,” you say gently, eyebrows furrowing. He’s been acting weird— and though you’re not his doctor or anything, you’re the closet thing to one right now. It’s only right you get to the bottom of what your client is going through, especially since you care about him more than you’d like to admit.

“I’ve been missing shots lately because my mind is elsewhere,” he admits cautiously, darkened eyes sliding to yours. “It’s getting harder and harder to deny my…needs.”

“Needs,” you repeat, voice dropping into a sultry tone you didn’t even know you had taken. You think you know where this is going.

The expression on your face must embolden Caleb, because he then blurts it outright.

“Hahh, I just,” his flush spreads from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “need a release, baby.”

Your eyes drift down to where his legs are spread, cock bulging through his pants and— oh.

Caleb’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyes half lidded. “You, specifically, I mean— fuck, it’s always been you. If-if you’ll have me.”

You gape, thighs pressing together tight. It’s shocking, though not entirely. The hard-ons, the way he fidgets around you, it makes sense now, even if he is your client. But…God. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t wet right now, that you haven’t been wanting this every time your hands made contact with his skin. That desperate, thirsty look on his face has you buzzing with thrill.

You must’ve taken too long to reply in your stupor, because he backtracks. “U-unless you don’t want me, which is fine, but—”

“No,” you blurt, scooting closer on the bed. “I mean, yes.”

You put an end to his nervous stammering with that, and the hope that lights up in his eyes is shockingly adorable.

“As your physical therapist….it is my job to make sure you’re in a good shape to play.”

--

“C-Caleb!” Pitched whimpers spill from your lips as a warn tongue laves against your bare pussy. His hands have your thighs spread across either side of his face, granting him access to the meal he’s wanting for so long. He keeps his face buried in your cunt to the point where you wonder foggily if he can breathe— but judging by the vibrations you can feel from his wanton groans, he’d have it no other way.

Your thighs tremble in his tight grip, fat of them dimpled by his greedy fingers that pry them open. The limbs jerk in his hold when he presses a lewd, messy suckle right over your clit, and you whine out again.

“Taste so good, fuck, your pussy ‘slike heaven,” he mumbles against your folds, before his tongue flicks out hungrily against your slit, rough buds scraping against your nerve endings. The slimy muscle pushes insistently at your quivering hole, poking past the entrance until you squeal.

Your fingers grip those silky strands of fawny hair you’ve admired countless times, able to appreciate the feel of them even through your hazy pleasure. Though you mussel them up further as his nose bridge nudges your clit, grinding messily into your cunt.

Caleb lets out a whimper of pleasure against your pussy, lewd squelching noises emitting from between your legs as he tongue-fucks you. Dark, long lashes flutter in pleasure as he hooks his nose over your mound and inhales. You flush, but the flat of his tongue dragging across your slit makes your embarrassment dissipate in seconds.

“Sweeter than, hah,” he breathes warmly against your folds, and you clench around nothing, “honey, baby.”

“Caleb,” your thighs shudder in his tight grip, toes curling with each eager lick. “Ngh, it’s so—”

Your pussy is weeping from the feel of his warm, ravenous mouth licking at you, sparks of pleasure curling your spine.

He curls his sinful tongue just right, slurping all your juices as his glassy eyes gaze up at you. “Mmf— I know, hun’, you’re so wet—”

As if to drive home his point, he tongues at your hole again, squelching noise growing in cadence to your gasps. You whimper at the intrusion, thighs instinctively clamping shut around his head. Caleb only groans in bliss as your pillowy thighs enclose around either side of his face, mouth still snugly latched onto your poor pussy— in fact, his rough hands grip the limbs to keep them there eagerly. The pressure on your lower belly grows and you feel something rising in you.

“You’re gonna be unable to, nghh—breathe,” your hips are desperately moving on their own, grinding your syrupy clit against his sharp nose bridge, each motion adding to your mounting pleasure. Caleb understands your need, pressing open-mouthed suckles across your glistening folds, tongue lashing out to taste your arousal.

“Don’t care,” he hums between suckles, rolling your creamy clit between his sharp teeth. You squeal, feet pushing against his shoulder lightly, torn between kicking him away or drawing him closer.

His broad tongue rubs roughly against your entire pussy, the friction of his buds against your slippery folds making you gush into his mouth. Caleb slurps it up, messily suckling every bit of it like he’s starving of thirst.

And when he catches your throbbing clit between his wet lips and sucks, teeth grazing the sensitive nerve endings, you shatter.

Pitched moans spill from your lips, walls fluttering hard as your trembling legs tighten around his head. Shocks of pleasure wrack through your body, warm and blissful.

He keeps going, licking at you as if he’s in a trance, and the overstimulation has your feet kicking out against the mattress. “Caleb,” you end up having to wrench him away by his hair. He only blinks dazedly up at you, swollen lips parting.

“Hahh, sorry,” he blurts, nuzzling his nose against your inner thigh, as if he never wants to leave, even when you’re finally releasing his head from between your legs. The bottom half of his face is sticky and drenched, and you have to look away as he continues to stare at you with those puppy eyes like he’s not filthy right now.

“Did I hurt you?” You babble, flushing in a way that has little to do with your exertion.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head fervently. “No, fuck, felt so good, honey. Would happily die between your—”

“Okay,” you pant. “Um, wow.” But it’s hard to ignore how your pussy already is throbbing again, insatiable when it comes to him.

Caleb only blinks up at you, his own cheeks pinkening. “Think you can go one more time? S-sorry, baby, but…”

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence. You’re helping him tug off his boxers, both of your movements eager, and—

It’s big.

You knew as much when you saw it tented against his pants, but seeing it in real time? Your mouth waters a bit.

His cock bobs at your attention, pearls of precum dotting his pinkish tip. He’s so hard it’s probably painful, if the swelling veins trailing down his velvet shaft are anything to go by.

Your cunt flutters pathetically. You’re still drenched from his tongue, and the idea of his cock inside of you sends molten heat pooling in your stomach.

You lay back, throat dipping. “Please, Caleb, I need it.”

Caleb groans as if pained, and the look he gives you is almost feral, but he hesitates. “I know, honey. Need to loosen you up f’me first.”

He settles between your legs, calloused finger prodding at your soppy entrance. You tense as his long finger slips in with surprising ease, your warm pussy sucking it in.

Caleb inhales, violet eyes transfixed on where his digit slowly plunges into your heat. “This, hahh, pussy s’so cute, baby,” and he curls his finger to crook at that spongy spot inside you, and you mewl.

Your jaw slacks as another finger joins, the burning sensation lessening with each thrust against your g-spot. The wet clicks make you bite your lip in mortification, but Caleb just speeds up, fingers scissoring against your tight walls. It feels good, yet you want more.

“Want your cock, Caleb,” you practically beg, adamantly pushing your feet into the mattress. “Please, ‘leb—”

His fingers slip out of you, and you’re whining at the loss until he’s lining up against your entrance, heavy length nestled right against your folds. “Fuck, you’re needy. Have you been wanting this as long as I have?”

You nod along dumbly, breaths shallow at the feel of his velvet cock between your legs.

“Don’t worry,” he plants his hand near your head, body looming over yours. “I’ll, ngh, give it to you.”

And his thick tip nudges your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscle. You let out a tiny whimper, but Caleb shushes you, swollen lips pressing soft kisses to your cheek. The tenderness is enough to momentarily distract you, and you blink at his affections, before he’s sheathing his long cock entirely inside you with a final plap!

You gasp out, forehead creasing at the stretch, cunt instinctively squeezing his girth. “Ngh- Cay’, it hurts!”

“Hah, I know baby, ‘s gonna take some getting used to,” he looks similarly pained, jaw slack with how you squeeze him like a vice. Your pussy is hugging him so snugly, and his pearly teeth dig into his bottom lip as he tries not to immediately cum.

“F-fuck.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck, large body shuddering against you.

“C-Caleb?” You hic, pussy steadily growing wetter by the second. You feel so full, stretched tight around his cock. But you need more.

“Sorry, hun, this pretty pussy ‘s just so tight.” And he draws his hips back and slams into you at a punishing pace. Your toes curl against the sheets, hands flying to clutch at his broad back.

“Oh my God,” you pant, mind blanking at the feel of his length dragging in and out of you. His fat tip drives right into your g-spot with a force that has you seeing stars. Your cunt forms a frothy ring around his shaft, lewd schlicks resounding with your moans.

His pelvis slams against your stinging thighs, but you can barely pay attention to anything other than the sparks of pleasure bursting up your spine. You blink dazedly, lips parting as you can barely contain yourself.

“Cay— mmf!” His lips slot over yours, swallowing your cries as he tongues you messily. You gasp into the kiss as he devours you, eagerly suckling and licking into your mouth like it’s an apology for the deliciously rough way he fucks into you.

Or for what’s to come— because he breaks the kiss with a sigh, leaning back on his heels, grabbing at your hips, and slamming you back onto his cock.

Your jaw drops, raw, stinging pleasure bursting behind your eyelids. Each powerful thrust of his hips, combined with the way he manhandles you to plunge back onto him, has his tip reaching so deep inside you swear you can feel him bruising your cervix. Your fingers twist into the sheets, and your back bows like you’re possessed.

“Fuck,” you gasp, eyebrows drawing together— it feels so good that it hurts. “Caleb— Cay!”

“Yeahh, feels good, baby?” And he’s gone, glassy eyes locked into where his cock ruthlessly rams into you, your poor pussy weeping down his shaft until it’s soaked. His tongue peaks out to wet his bottom lip, his breaths shaky with exertion.

He’s slamming into you so hard you can feel the breath being punched out of you, replaced by only the stinging in your lower stomach. You can only watch foggily at his muscled form, the way his forearms tighten along with his grip, his abs clenching when you squeeze particularly hard around him. Fuck, he looks good; the pitched groans rumbling from him only serve to get you wetter. His cheeks flush cutely as if he’s not doing the most sinful things to you.

“Feels— hic, so good!” You squeal, bent legs tensing up as the pleasure mounts. Caleb lifts your hips slightly, and the angle has him kissing straight into your g-spot repeatedly with precision.

Your body goes slack in his hold, all thoughts leaving your muddled brain as you can only focus on the mind-numbing feeling of his cock burying itself into your pussy. Swollen lips parting, you manage only warbled whimpers, walls pulsating against his shaft.

And you’re finally cumming, loud moans spilling from you, clenching hard around the firm length inside you. White-hot pleasure floods your body until your vision blurs, body locking up tight before you go limp completely.

“Fuck—” Caleb follows soon after, sheathing himself inside with a final thrust, and you vaguely feel his warmth seed fill you up, dribbling down your thighs. You blink tiredly as you hear him whimper your name, large hands gripping your hips in a way that’ll surely leave a bruise in the morning.

You mumble something incoherent as he pulls out, his fluids leaking steadily from your sore hole. The bed dips beside you, and you’re shaken from your half-asleep state with a few cool kisses peppered against your sweaty face.

You groan, and Caleb tugs you into his arms, tucking your head under his chin.

“You okay?” He murmurs, lips tickling the shell of your ear.

“Yeah,” you drawl, still floating on clouds from the pleasant buzzing of your body.

“Now our both our bodies are relaxed, hm?” Caleb teases, lifting those hands he adores so much to peck the backs of them.

You only hum sleepily, proving his point as you drool slightly against his pecs in a way that makes him huff fondly.

—

The cheer of the crowd is deafening as the loud buzzer marks the last five minutes of the game. You can only watch, hands clasped anxiously, as the ball is passed from player to player, in possession of the other team.

“Caleb Xia is making a move here— but has he recovered from his last loss?” The announcer’s words only strengthen the churning of your stomach, but as his physical therapist and girlfriend, you held your faith in him.

Sure enough, he manages to bat the ball from another player. His skilled hands are a blur; the ball dribbling underneath his palm in lightening speed as if glued to him. He weaves past a player, and another, until—

“And Xia’s taking a shot—”

The ball swishes cleanly inside the net— “And he scores, securing yet another win for his team—”

You stand from your seat, clapping and cheering, grinning so wide your cheeks are sore. Someone whistles, and others whoop, but as Caleb scans the stands, he’s searching for only one person. Your eyes lock. He beams, pointing at you across the court, and a laugh bubbles in your throat.

His lucky charm. His love.