humanjarvis

[humanjarvis]

i’m not intending to only write about caleb or even lads but he’s taking over my brain rn like the venom symbiote and i just need to psychoanalyze him a few times to get it out of my system 🚬

[humanjarvis]

i need you more than you need me

the first time you kiss, caleb makes you initiate.

he's sitting against the headboard of his bed with you in between his legs. whispers of "please" leave your mouth as you hover inches away from his lips, your watery eyes begging him to take the lead like he always does

you'd never kissed anyone before, always too busy with school and work and exploding (or not) family members. so when you finally gather the courage to let him have your first, you expect caleb to guide you, to show you how, to make you feel good. but he doesn't.

while you're squirming in his arms, practically imploring him to do something, caleb wears a pitying smirk, rubbing soothing circles into your sides but not going any further

it's only when your want outweighs your embarrassment—when your inexperienced lips brush shyly against his—that he takes charge, his hand bringing you closer by the back of your neck

that first time, you'd thought it was just because he was being cautious with you and letting you set the pace. after all, he wasn't caleb if he wasn't deciding your limits for you behind the scenes, choosing to preserve the fragile image of you he'd worshiped for years.

but in the first few months of your intimacy, it becomes a pattern. no matter how many times you kiss or grope each other on the couch, caleb has you make the first move.

it's not that you're really in control, no—he knows he has something you want, so he has you pursue him. like always, caleb holds all the cards. you initiate, but he makes you initiate. caleb is in control.

he taunts and goads you into action, drawing whines from you as he pushes you to take what you want from him. you feel clingy and desperate and more than a little needy, but little do you know that's exactly what caleb wants. when caleb makes you initiate, he wants you to feel like you need him.

but it’s only because he knows how much he needs you.

caleb's need for you is all-consuming, and in his perverted, one-sided game of revenge, he wants you to know what that feels like.

his performed nonchalance, his practiced teasing grin as he watches you plead for him to touch you first—it’s all a facade meant to mask the truth he can't escape: caleb needs you more than you need him.

a/n: strangely this was inspired by the drake & josh episode where they make a bet over who needs the other more and drake loses miserably. combined with the audio for caleb's affinity lvl 85 secret times, which, wow. a lot going on there

[humanjarvis]

sick caleb waking up after a long nap, heading over to where you sit watching tv with some snacks and shuffling his way into the sofa, drowsily making room to cuddle himself at your side— rubbing his nose against you while making whiny sounds to make you move your arms off your lap before laying his head on your thighs. he turns around to his right side and nestles his face on your tummy. he sighs, nuzzling you and pressing a kiss right above your navel, before wrapping his arms around your waist and falling asleep again.

goodnight! 🤍

[humanjarvis]

i'm sorry for scaring you

synopsis: caleb shows a new side of himself during one of your fights. it almost makes you believe he's changed.

tags: angst, suggestive (psychologically), fluff (sorta kinda), caleb kneels, caleb crawls, caleb is pathetic, caleb is overprotective and unwell pairing: farspace colonel!caleb x reader word count: 1.7k

a/n: this is angstier than i intended i wanted it to be hot, maybe it's still hot, when he tries to lock u up in his house but he has lethal booboo face ⬇

“I didn't ask for any of this! I didn’t ask for your protection, and I sure as hell don’t want it.”

“You not wanting it doesn’t change the fact that you need it,” Caleb replied blankly. 

In the four months since you’d reunited with Caleb in Skyhaven, your relationship had taken a hit. In the first few weeks, you’d barely seen each other; he’d stop by to check on you, assume you thought him the scum of the earth, and abruptly retreat back home. It wasn’t until you’d grown fed up with the awkwardness and uncertainty that you began approaching him again—asking him about his day, initiating phone calls, and even starting the rare video call, if he was lucky. 

Around the last month or so, things had gotten better. During your increasingly frequent visits, you’d gone out together several times—to see the new cyberpunk action movie, to window shop in the pet store, to marvel at the Skyhaven nightscape from the safety of his personal aircraft. Just as you thought you’d both been making progress adapting to your new dynamic, a wave of highly dangerous wanderers had infiltrated the city, and Caleb had had the nerve to essentially place you on house arrest until the threat was dealt with. Fast forward to now, his composure threatening to overpower your impassioned rebuttals. 

“Did you honestly think I’d let you leave right now?” he asked. “You’re here for a week. The Fleet will take the next couple of days to sort out the problem, and we can go out together when it’s done.”

“We can go out together. Right. So you can rush me back here the second someone looks at me the wrong way?”

“No one will look at you the wrong way. Not here. Not while you’re with me. But you need to understand, Pipsqueak: you came to Skyhaven for me. You’re in skyhaven for me. I won’t stand by and watch you put yourself in danger, and you won’t change my mind,” he replied, his large frame looming over you as he stepped closer. 

You’d had enough. You’d spent almost an hour on the losing side of this back-and-forth, and you were too exhausted to pull your punches anymore. “My first time seeing you after the explosion,” you started, voice trembling. “Do you know how it felt? When you stepped off that plane, when you interrogated me behaving like you never have in your life—I didn’t know what to think. But when you brought me back here? Started spewing off that shit about a world where my only world is you? I was scared, Caleb. I thought I’d needed to be afraid for you, but I was afraid of you. That you’d lock me in this house forever, that I'd only see the sun when you decided it wasn’t top bright for me. I was afraid that I’d die here having grown to hate the person I’d wanted to live for,” you finished, your words dripping with venom.

Seething, you spun around, ready to storm out of the kitchen and into the quiet of the guest room Caleb had remodeled for you. 

You’d taken three steps toward the door when you heard something hit the ground with a heavy thud. 

Body still facing the door, you stopped in your tracks. This was new. Unexpected. You’d been prepared to hear a few calls of your name, some “Wait!”s, maybe even a “Don't walk away from me.” Worst case, you’d expected him to pin you in place with his Evol, preventing your exit and prolonging your fight. 

But a thud? A thud could mean many things. Enough things for you to remain frozen contemplating the possibilities before the voice in the back of your head broke through your thoughts, reminding you of the very real chance that you’d spiked Caleb's blood pressure so much that he’d fainted.

The fear that he was hurt made you finally turn around, only for Caleb to catch you off guard yet again.

Caleb the Loathsome, the overprotective, obsessive, now cold-blooded colonel of the Farspace Fleet, was on the floor before you. Kneeling.

All at once, your anger dissipated, melting into shock at the assertive man before you’s sudden display of submission. 

Realizing you’d turned around, Caleb lifted his head, meeting your flustered expression with his pained one. His furrowed brows, shining eyes, and pouted lips—he looked pitiful, honestly. And as much as it tugged at your heartstrings, it awakened something dormant inside you. 

It made you feel powerful. It gave you an idea. 

Biting the inside of your bottom lip, you took several steps toward Caleb’s kneeling form, closing the distance you'd been so eager to put between you all of ten minutes ago. A slight gasp escaped Caleb at your movement, and he swiftly lowered his gaze back to the floor, as if worried that daring to watch your approaching form would make you retreat. 

When you came to a stop, you were just in front of his knees, looking down your nose at his bowed head. For a few moments, Caleb’s heavy breaths were the only sounds between you, thickening the cold air in the room. 

Then, finally—finally—you touched him, lifting his chin up before resting your palm on his cheek. At your touch, he leaned forward, nuzzling his head against your thigh. 

“…You want this that bad, huh? Want me that bad?”

“More than anything,” he breathed. 

You stared at him. 

“Please,” he whispered, turning his head into your hand to brush his lips across your fingers. 

At this, you hummed softly, running your thumb across his cheek twice before turning away from him once more. When you break contact, Caleb freezes in the midst of rubbing his face on your leg, his eyes popping open in panic. He only calms when he sees you heading for the armchair tucked into the right back corner of the room, slowly taking a seat, your legs spread. 

“Relax,” you call out, settling in your chair. He didn’t move a muscle.

You decided you’d had enough of the tense silence after a few more beats. It was time to test him.

“…Come here, Caleb.”

In an instant, his head snapped up. His gaze, abruptly ending its budding relationship with the floor tiles, held yours for more than a few seconds this time, your slight smirk challenging his slight disbelief.

Caleb had all the cunning in the world. Since joining the Fleet, nothing got by him—and on the rare chance that it did, he’d chase it down and make it beg for mercy. He was a prideful man. He was a calculated man. So when you called for him in your sweet voice, slightly breathy with unadmitted nerves, he figured you out quite quickly. 

You were testing him—to see if he’d walk or crawl to you—and he knew it. 

And unfortunately for his dignity, any reservation he held about the latter was overshadowed by his desire for you: to be in your space, to breathe your air, to be close enough to feel you—even if he rarely did now, out of fear that his touch would repulse you.

He needed you to need him. So he crawled. 

Inch by inch, Caleb crawled toward you, the only person who would ever see him reduced to this. The only person who could reduce him to this. And all the while, as the fabric of his dark pants dragged across the floor, his violet eyes never left yours. In them, you saw resignation. You saw anticipation. You saw the shattered remnants of a pride that he’d let be broken, and you saw them rebuild themselves in lust the closer he came.

A few inches away from you, Caleb stops, sitting demurely on his heels. His hands twitch in hesitation before falling into his lap. His vulnerability is palpable, and you can feel him banishing himself back to his hell of self-deprecation, the guilt-eroded space in his mind where he repeats how little he deserves you. Before he can lower his gaze again, you beckon him upwards,  guiding his palms to rest on your knees. His kneeling form almost equals your seated one in height.

“I used to love watching you scare off the boys who were mean to me,” you tell him, placing your palm back on his cheek. “But as much as I like you intimidating, this little act might be my new favorite.” 

His nervous breaths come to a momentary halt before he brightens slightly, chasing your touch. He nuzzles into your palm like he did your leg earlier, and you sigh. 

“You scared me, Caleb,” you murmur. 

“I know. I'm sorry.”

“I know you want to keep me safe, that you have kept me safe for as long as either of us can remember,” you say, continuing to stroke his head. “But I don’t want to be afraid of you, Caleb. I won't be afraid of you. So if you want to keep doing this, if you want us to move on, if you want me—it can’t happen again. Tell me it won’t happen again.”

Your movements still as you tighten your grip on his jaw, forcing him to meet your eyes. A grimace flashes across his face as he goes quiet for a moment. But you wait for him. You have to. As exhilarating as it’d been to see him crawl before you, this was the true test—if you extend your trust, will he extend his lenience? You have to believe that he will. To give him the chance to. 

And as you’re wrapped up in your optimism, your fantasies that he’ll acquiesce and let your relationship go back to normal, Caleb responds. 

“...I’m sorry for scaring you.” 

[humanjarvis]

caleb music headcanons

i'm receiving word about possible pirate caleb x siren reader myth and although that was not in my long and detailed plans for him (i've been playing this game for 2 months) it made me actually write these

caleb doesn’t pay much attention to his music taste. to him, music is mostly background noise—something to help pass the time while he’s studying or cooking

he isn’t very picky about genre; he’ll listen to anything, but low-stress indie songs bring him comfort. he finds new ones by shuffling a 12-hour playlist that updates weekly, but he has two or three bands that he checks up on every few months to see if they’ve released anything new 

has an undiscovered love for techno instrumentals, though

he seems disinterested in music on the surface, but it’s honestly because he cares about your taste in music more than his own

he would listen to the songs you liked when he’d drive you home from school, letting you practically use his dashboard as a punching bag while you impulsively switched between your top playlists. if his infotainment system had been sentient, it would’ve sighed every time you got into the car 

he takes note of your most played artists, looking them up to feel closer to you (and to see if they’re playing a show near you anytime soon—if so, he saves up to surprise you with tickets once or twice a year) ((two tickets. you’re going with him. together.)) 

his research comes in handy when you quiz him on boyband trivia, and the playful grin on his face hides his twitching eye when you gush over how cute you think the leader is 

caleb comes to truly appreciate music when he realizes how much it means to you. he comes home late one night to find you dancing and singing around the living room, bathed in the color-changing mood lights from your floor lamp and wearing the noise-cancelling headphones he got you a few months back 

he’d walked in on one of your frequent “music nights,” as you called them, and he was so enamored by the sight that he rarely missed one after that 

every music night since then, you switched out your headphones for a speaker in the corner of the room and welcomed caleb into your mini-raves. he seemed to have missed the “rave” part of the memo, though; he mostly remained idle on these nights, perfectly content to sit on the couch just watching you, outside of the rare times you managed to pull him up to dance with you 

you, on the other hand, were all over the place—sometimes you’d stand looking forlornly out the window, pretending to be in a sad music video; sometimes you’d make up your own choreography in the middle of the room; and sometimes, during the most energetic songs, you’d crawl all over him in excitement

caleb’s favorite music nights are the ones where you sing for him. don’t get him wrong—he loves having you use him as a jungle gym when a hype song is playing—but he can’t hold back his anticipation whenever a slow song comes on shuffle. each time, you collapse onto the couch next to him, turning your face into his shoulder

while your pulse slows, you begin reciting the lyrics you know by heart, the vibrations going straight into caleb’s chest. he pulls you closer to him and thinks this is an intimacy he’d like to live in forever, you crooning with your fingers in his hair 

pressed flush against caleb’s body, you eventually drift off to the rhythmic beating of his heart, and music night is over, for you at least 

but the night goes on a bit longer for caleb, who’d memorized lines from the ballads you sang to him and secretly downloads the songs after, so that the next time he’s away, he can listen to them and pretend it’s you