syncaleb

[syncaleb]

Gideon: Hey, that little pipsqueak of yours? I think she actually likes you. I caught her staring at you many times.

Caleb: Hm? I sure hope so. We've been dating since forever.

Gideon: WHAT? IT WASN'T ONE SIDED!?

Caleb: WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT!?

Gideon: YOU ALWAYS YEARN FOR HER LIKE IT'S A ONE SIDED LOVE.

Caleb: What's that supposed to mean!?

[syncaleb]

-> my train ride is sooo long i am catching up on fics my delicious brainy genius lads fandom writers have bestowed me with 🤤

[syncaleb]

Bulgin’

Synopsis: Caleb is obsessed with the way he looks inside of you. (Just a Drabble, I’m ovulating)

Warning: Smut, size difference, bulging, tummy bulge, Caleb likes seeing you cry, use of ‘Gege’.

The first time it happens, it’s almost innocent.

As innocent as the outline of Caleb’s cock bulging in your tummy can be.

You’re already crying from the feeling of being so full, of being stretched so wide. Caleb is slack-jawed when his hips twitch and the bugle moves.

You are a mix of awe and horror, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. “‘S too big Cal! T-take it outtt!” You whine helplessly. Caleb breaks free of his trance and rolls his hips back to pull out but the bulge shifts and you both moan.

It was addicting.

Now it’s Caleb’s favorite thing in the world. You’re a whimpering, slobbering mess when he’s fucking up into your fluttering walls. The outline of his cock presses under your flesh.

“See how big Gege is inside? Yeah? Oh Pretty girl you look so precious cryin’ for me.” He grabs at your waist, pushing his thumbs on either side of his delectable cock and pushes down.

You wail, hips stuttering when the action makes it hard to miss his cock pistoning in and out of your heat.

“G-Gege! S’ mean!” This big crocodile tears you give him don’t work anymore. He knows you want nothing more than to cream around his cock, the frothy ring around the base is testament to that.

“Ohhh I know Pips, Gege is so mean! Are you gonna cry for Gege-“ tears roll down your reddened cheeks as the heel of his palm presses against the bulge- “Aww there we go. Go on baby. Gege always wipes your tears. Tell Gege how mean he is.”

[syncaleb]

You and Zayne nuzzle each other… a lot.

It’s something you didn’t realize until Yvonne pointed it out shortly after Zayne had rushed off for an emergency operation. “You two are very reminiscent of cats.”

“Huh?” You only turned to look at her after Zayne had disappeared from your sight. Cheeks a little warm as she smiled at you. “You two said goodbye, but when Dr. Zayne kissed your cheek, he nuzzled you with his nose… you nuzzled him right back. It was pretty cute.”

You can't even say anything in response, your mind slightly malfunctioning as you think back on all the times you and Zayne have subconsciously nuzzled into each other.

You mean to tell Zayne about it when he gets home, just to see his ears grow red and his cheeks pink as he realizes his own habit.

Except, you forget about it when he gets hime. It's not until he's on top of you, his face buried in your neck, that it dawns on you. "You're like a kitten, Z." His body weight is settled snuggly on top of you, a slight hum sounding from his mouth as he processes your words.

"So are you." It vibrates your skin, makes you giggle a little harder and your nails scratch his scalp a little harder. "Yvonne pointed it out today, y'know. I couldn't even come up with a response."

Now, Zayne is chuckling too. The warmth of his face against your neck growing a little hotter. "You've softened me, my love. Ruined me, even. Now I can't help myself when my colleagues are present." The kiss that lands on the top of his head only ruins him further.

"Good, I like the Zayne you've become."

[syncaleb]

Pain reliever

aka slow, injured sex

Caleb x female reader

Words: 2k

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

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

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

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

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

He looks perfectly wrecked right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, yeah…but–”

“No buts,” he interrupts playfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[syncaleb]

love letter practice

you were on a mission, and the mission must be to get caleb to lose his mind.

★pairing: caleb x reader ★wc: 1.9k ★content: old days (high school era), fluff, (mutual) pining, love letter confession (under the guise of "practicing"), caleb's pov. ★a/n: I had love letters on the brain and thought of this! I might end up doing a part 2 set during stage observer, where the "love letter" you find is the one here hehe ★masterlist

You were lurking.

Caleb paused in his studying for the umpteenth time that afternoon, glancing back to where your shadow crept under his door. You'd passed back and forth behind it for the past fifteen minutes, and he was too focused on his essay to call you out on it.

But as he wrapped up all his main points in the conclusion, he called without looking back, "Stop hovering, pips, you know I don't bite."

He smirked to himself when he heard you grumble on the other side, the door flying open and slamming shut in an instant.

"Not funny," you mumbled at his jab towards your old biting habits, and he directed his smirk over his shoulder at you.

You were still lingering on the edge of the room, and his joy quickly faded. He turned around in his desk chair to face you fully.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing," you said quickly, but your hands were behind your back the whole time, fidgeting with something he couldn't see.

Your eyes weren't meeting his either, and his head tilted, arching an eyebrow.

"Come over here," he urged you gently, patting the extra chair he kept next to his desk, just for when you wanted to come in and study with him.

Or, more likely, to pester him until he paid attention to you while he was trying to do his own homework.

You hesitated, then slowly came up, plopping down in the chair with your hands still behind your back.

"You gonna show me what you're holdin' onto so tightly there?"

You glared at him, and he just smiled sweetly, chin propped on his palm, trying to wear down your defenses.

It gave a boost to his pride when it worked, your shoulders deflating with a big sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, and he tensed again.

Were you being bullied? Did you fail a test? Or was it the nightmares again?

Whatever he thought might be wrong, it definitely wasn't you admitting that, "I want to write a love letter."

Caleb stiffened, his mind going to every dark place he tried to hide away from himself, every face of some loser with a hopeless crush on you flashing in his mind.

Outwardly, he tried to hide his troubled expression, but his brows furrowed anyway.

"Why do you want to write a love letter?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice even. But it was tight, his posture stiff when he looked down at his essay again, no longer seeing the words there. "You got someone in mind?"

"Well—no."

Caleb dared to look back up to see you were pouting. And even with the restless storm in his mind, he had to resist the urge to pinch the apples of your cheeks when they were all puffed out so cutely like that.

"But what if I do want to write one eventually?" you continued, in clear distress over a hypothetical situation that he hoped would never exist one day. "And I don't know how, and I just look stupid!"

"You'd never look stupid," he said quickly, effortlessly and honest, even as he frowned deeper at your explanation. "But I told you before, pips, letters are our thing. Why would you—"

He stopped short, breath catching in his throat when he finally saw what was in your hands as you held it out to him.

Across the front of an envelope of antique looking parchment, written carefully in cursive (you never used cursive, you hated how your handwriting looked in it, even though he thought it was perfect and pretty), was the letters spelling out his name.

Caleb looked from it, to you, then down to the envelope again.

"What's—"

"Practice," you interrupted, shoving it into his chest, and he scrambled to grab it. "I need you to tell me if it's any good."

"Pipsqueak, you—" Caleb cleared his throat, shifting nervously, his fingers almost shaking when he grazed them over his name. "You wrote me a love letter?"

"For practice!"

He laughed, and he hoped you didn't hear how winded the noise sounded. Because you'd sure stolen the breath right from his lungs with how you nervously fidgeted, avoiding his eyes, your love letter in his hands.

Your love letter.

For him.

Oh god.

He carefully unsealed the tape (one of your favorite decorative ones, with the cute little red and green apples dancing together), his heart in his throat as he pulled the letter out.

And oh god it smelled like that perfume you'd begged Gran to get you for your birthday, the one that was warm with vanilla and cinnamon and a hint of apples and it smelled amazing you were amazing you—

"Stop treating it like it's a bomb!" you complained, smacking him in the chest, and he laughed anxiously.

"I'm not!" he argued, not knowing how to tell you that this was something precious, something delicate, and he never trusted himself to not break something that special in his hands.

He got stuck for a moment on the Dearest Caleb that started out the letter, his fingertips brushing across it, before he forced himself to get past his nerves and read the first sentence.

A laugh got caught in his throat unbidden, and you were scrambling all over him in an instant, trying to grab it back as you shouted, "What? What?! What's so funny?"

"I am writing to you today," he repeated the start of your opening line, grinning at you as you whined and shook him. "This sure is a formal love letter. Are you courting me, pipsqueak?"

"Shut up!" you snapped, pinching him in the side, and he jumped with an over dramatic ow! "Give it back!"

"Noooope, it's mine now!" He grinned, wrapping his arm around you to keep you pressed to his side, and you playfully punched him while he held the letter over your head and kept reading silently.

'I am writing to you today to tell you what I've wanted to say for a really long time.'

Oh.

Caleb sucked in an unsteady breath, eyelashes fluttering with the indescribable emotion that swept through him.

It's just practice, he told himself over and over as you settled into his side. Your arms wrapped around his waist for comfort, your face burying into his chest with embarrassment. You don't mean it.

And then the next sentence hit.

'I like you, Caleb.'

Oh.

'I like you so much that it's hard to focus on anything but you. I think about you when I'm with you or when you're gone. I think about you during class, or when I'm watching your games, or when you make my favorite snacks after school.'

'I'm always thinking about how I want to hold your hand for longer when you walk me home. I want to hold you tighter when you hug me, and kiss—'

Caleb glanced away, eyes squeezing shut, face tilted up towards the ceiling as he mouthed a silent prayer that he didn't completely lose his mind right now.

Then he dared to look back down, to keep reading:

'—and kiss you on the sidewalk, in the rain, when you hold an umbrella over my head.'

He glanced at the top of your head, at how you held onto him so tightly, hoping against all hope that you couldn't hear or feel how his heart was pounding against his chest right now.

'You're cute, and you're funny, and you've always been nice to me, even when you're pretending to be mean just to tease me.'

"Caleb," you whined, poking him in the ribs as he read through each line carefully. "What do you think?"

"Well, so far it sounds like a birthday card," he teased, lying through his teeth just so you couldn't see right through him and tell how madly in love with you he was, as he'd always been.

You dropped your head onto his shoulder with a groan.

"But give me some time," he said softly. "I'm still makin' my way through it."

"Well, hurry up!" you poked at him impatiently again, and he brushed your hand aside with a laugh.

'You're my best friend, and I want you to be more than that, if you want it too.'

He could almost laugh at that if he wasn't so winded with emotion. If he wanted it. Like you weren't teasing him with all he's ever wanted, and telling him it was practice.

And then the last line hit him right where it hurt the most, in the part of him that's always ached for you, burrowing in there to stay.

'Would you ever be mine?'

"Well?" you said, untangling yourself from his slack grip. You bounced anxiously in your seat, and he hoped you couldn't see how red his face had gotten. "How is it? Did it make your heart flutter?"

Flutter? It nearly gave him a heart attack.

He wanted to give you a real answer to your fake question, to tell you yes. He wanted to scream it to the heavens, wanted to grab your face and kiss you all over and say yes. He would. He already was.

Caleb cleared his throat.

"It's good," his voice cracked when he said it and oh, god, could you see right through him?

"Really?"

You leaned closer, and Caleb quickly scrambled back, as far in the other direction as he could get as you kept creeping closer.

"Yeah, pips, real good," he complimented, carefully tucking the letter back into the envelope, his heart racing. "But, uh, you should keep practicing. On me."

You frowned a little, disappointed as always when you felt like you didn't nail something right on the first try. And he didn't have the guts to tell you that you absolutely did hit it right out of the park, his head all the way up in the clouds with the daydreams you'd fueled for him for the foreseeable future.

"Okay," you muttered, eyes downcast, and his heart ached.

"Hey," Caleb said softly, ruffling your hair gently. You peered up at him through your lashes with a pout, and he just about melted. "I told you it was good, didn't I?"

You sniffed, and he only then noticed your eyes were all teary. "Is it really?"

"Yeah." He rubbed his thumb at the corner of each of your eyes, trying to not look too adoring to cross a line when you leaned into his palm. "My heart's all a-flutter. Promise."

You smiled into his hand, and his heart skipped a beat again.

"Okay," you said with newfound determination, giving a resolute nod. "I'll keep practicing. Watch out for the next one, you'll be in love with me before you know it!"

Caleb choked on air at that.

He let you get all the way to the door, and listened to you open it before his resolve cracked.

"I would."

You paused, glancing back over your shoulder at him.

"Would what?" you asked, and Caleb let out a breathless laugh.

"Nothin', pipsqueak," he brushed off, pulling his textbook closer to himself, staring at the words that blended together, your letter on his desk still in the corner of his eyesight.

For a moment, you stayed in his doorway behind him. He could feel you staring. And he almost looked back.

What face were you making? he wondered. Was it the same as his?

Was the same hidden part of him hidden in you as well?

But then the door shut behind you, and Caleb collapsed with a heavy sigh, head banging against the desk.

"What are you doin' to me, pips?" he whispered under his breath, lovesick and bringing the letter up to his lips to kiss it with a dazed smile. "Whatever it is, please keep doin' it."

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[syncaleb]

Reader who can’t cum pretty please 🙏

Squirtings good tho~

LADS men helping you squirt ! ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊

a/n: idk how everyone out there does these kinda prompts without it sounding like copy paste 😿 i have a newfound respect for u guys. I TRIED! and ik these were fast paced. sorry. also, did research, and u CAN squirt w out cumming!

context: you have a condition (medical or it's just hard, you decide)in which you can't come. you tell the boys and they insist they can take care of you <3

p.s. idk rafayel that well 😞 and i had another request similar to this one "they make you squirt for the first time I beg of thee <33" if that was u and u still want that after this pls let me know!

Caleb <3 !

Caleb lets out a shudder when your hand wanders down to the bulge in his pants. For weeks, this was your routine.

Messy make-outs, eager handjobs or sometimes blowjob, Caleb trying to return the favor and you nudging him away.

"N-no, not today," Caleb manages, gently grabbing your wrist and guiding it away.

You frown, your hand tensing slightly. "Did I do something wrong?"

Caleb swallows thickly, his cock giving a twitch of protest when he rests your hand at your side. "Not at all. I just—I feel bad."

"Why? I really want to, Caleb."

Caleb has to will himself not to give in to the way you say his name. "No, it's not that... I just can never return the favor."

He sees the flash of panic that passes through your eyes and quickly continues, "Which is fine! I don't have to touch you if you don't want me to, I just think we should give this a break for a little."

You glance down at the sheets, your face burning with shame. Both, at what you're hiding and the fact that he won't let you touch him.

Caleb scoots closer. "Hey, I really want you to touch me. Really, I do, it just doesn't feel fair."

You take a small breath, then softly murmur, "I can't come."

Caleb's brows furrow. "What?"

"I can't come," you repeat, heart beating wildly in your chest. "I've tried everything, I just can't. That's why I don't let you return the favor. You literally can't."

Caleb blinks. Then, utters a soft, "Oh."

It's quiet for a beat until he speaks up again.

"So, does it not feel good?" His voice is curious, not accusatory. "'Cus when you touch me it... It seems like you like it, but if you don't I don't want you to fa—"

"No!" you blurt out, a furious blush coloring your cheeks. "I like it. I like it a lot. I still feel pleasure, I just can't come."

Caleb lets out a soft breath, almost like it was meant to be a laugh but he subtly covered it up. "So... do you want me to touch you?"

You chew your lip, your body screaming a wordless yes even as you shake your head. "I can't come."

"That's not what I asked."

You take a second. "Yes.."

Caleb smiles, slipping his hand down your waist and tugging you closer until your stomach is pressed to his. "I can touch you all day and night if that's what you want. I don't care if you don't come."

"Your wrist will hurt."

He can't help the laugh that slips out at your warning. "Do you want me to, Pips?"

You nod again and he slowly slips his hand under the fabric of your underwear, teasing his fingers through your slick.

You can't help buck into his hand and Caleb sighs. "I could've done this sooner.. God, you've been so needy, huh?"

When you nod, he eases a finger in. There's almost no resistance and that makes his dick jump.

"I'll take care of you. I'll go as long as you want," he pushes a second finger in, "as hard or soft as you want." He starts pumping slowly, drinking in your expressions.

Your face pinches in pleasure, hands clinging to him as he effortlessly reaches that spot that makes your toes curl.

"This still okay?"

You nod, chest rising and falling with your uneven breaths. "Mhmm.. It feels—different.."

Caleb nudges his fingers deeper, rubbing along that spongy spot inside you. "Here?"

"Yes, Caleb!"

He gives a soft moan at how perfectly you squeeze around him when he rubs over that sweet spot. "Want me to keep touching you here? Or do you want to try something else?"

"Mmn! I–I don't know!" you gasp, your body arching into his touch against your will.

Caleb slows down, gently rolling you over so you can lie on your back. "I won't do anything you don't want. You tell me what you need, alright, Pips?" He leans down to capture your lips.

You can't even return it properly, too focused on the way your stomach curls and your hips jerk every time he pushes his fingers in. Was that normal?

"Why does it feel like I'm gonna—wait–" You bring your arms around his neck and hug him close. "Caleb, it feels like I'm gonna—"

"That's normal," Caleb says, slowing down just a fraction. "You're doing good."

But he keeps hitting that spot. Keeps the same pressure, the same speed, the same angle and it makes you think you might actually pee.

Wait, you think you are.

You can't even tell him to stop before you're making a mess all over him.

"I'm.. hnn.. I'm sorry, Caleb!" you squeal, squeezing your eyes shut and hiding your face in his neck as if that might erase the pure mortification of whatever the hell you just did.

Caleb inhales sharply, easing his out fingers to rub languid circles over your clit. "Shit. You—you're so pretty."

Your ears burn.

"Don't say that.."

"Why not?"

"I didn't... pee?"

"No," he responds, kissing the top of your head. "That was something else and you—" he breaks off on a groan, trying to withstand the urge to grind himself into your leg. "You were.. so perfect."

Caleb carefully pulls back to look at you. "Are you okay? Do you want to stop?"

You can still feel him stroking you in small circles, and despite how overwhelming that was, you don't want to stop.

"Can we... keep going?"

Caleb nearly shudders. "Anything for you, princess."

Zayne <3 !

Zayne presses a fervent kiss to your jaw, his hand slowly drifting lower. Down your stomach, and stopping at the waistband of your panties.

You squirm, your cheeks flushing as you grip his wrist. "Wait.."

Zayne instantly draws his hand back. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I got ahead of myself."

"No, no, not at all.. It's just.." You pause, your chest tightening.

"What is it?" Zayne's about to shift away from you when suddenly you cling to his shoulder and pull him back.

He flinches slightly, but he doesn't resist. "It's alright," he starts again. "We can simply—"

"I can't, Zayne."

Zayne blinks once. Then he nods. "I know. It's okay, we don't need to do this. We can—"

"No, Zayne.." You sigh, your whole body burning with embarrassment. "Touching me is pointless. I can't... I can't... come."

Zayne opens his mouth, then closes it again. Did he hear that right? You can't.. come?

"You have anorgasmia?"

You flush. You're not even sure what that word means, but the fact that you're even having this conversation—with Zayne of all people—is making it hard to breathe.

"I don't—I don't know." You shift uncomfortably, your hand squeezing around his shoulder. "I've tried. But I just can't."

Zayne looks at you thoughtfully. Then gently, he says, "Pleasure doesn't always need a climax. But if you don't want—"

"I want to," you quickly say, arching into him despite yourself. "I just didn't think you'd want to since I can't..."

Zayne lets out a soft breath through his nose as he leans down to press his lips against yours. "You know me better than that, don't you?" he murmurs.

You give him a weak nod and kiss him back, gently guiding his hand back between your legs.

Zayne's breath hitches, but he doesn't hesitate.

He starts rubbing you through your clothes, drinking in the soft sighs that come tumbling out when he puts just the right amount of pressure.

"Don't feel like you need to perform for me," he reminds quietly. "I'm not doing this to make you cum." He kisses you slower, matching the pace of his fingers.

"I'm doing this to make you feel good."

You sigh, your hips bucking into his hand. You can't help it. Some part of you wishes he would stop. You two could be at this for hours and you wouldn't finish. But another part of you is screaming at him to continue. To go further.

Almost as if he read your mind, Zayne carefully helps you out of your panties and nudges them aside.

You bite your lip, your face flushing as he stares down at you with pure adoration. He drags his hand down your stomach, then lower.

He runs his fingers through the slick mess between your legs, watching as your thighs twitch around him, like your body can't decide whether to squirm away or pull him closer.

"Relax," he coaxes. "I'll be gentle."

Zayne circles your clit firmly.

"This still feels good, doesn't it?" When your hips come off the bed in confirmation, Zayne smiles. "Good." He rubs faster, absorbing every shift and twitch like it's scripture.

"I won't—I can't come," you remind him, even as your body melts into his touch.

Zayne shakes his head. "Shh. This isn't about making you come. Just enjoy it."

You give a barely-there nod. Then slowly, carefully, you feel him push a finger in. You gasp, your hands fisting in the sheets.

"Is it too much?"

"No. No, it feels good."

Zayne nods, gently pulling his finger out, then pushing back in. He does it over and over again, making sure you're relaxed before he adds another finger.

"Is this still good?"

"Yes," you breathe out, wiggling your hips. "Please don't stop."

Zayne's breath catches in his throat as he pumps his fingers in your slick heat. He could stay here forever, listening to you, feeling you.

He lets out a soft groan, sinking in deeper.

The pressure makes your stomach tighten. He keeps hitting that weird, spongy spot inside that makes your whole body ache. You can't even keep your moans down long enough to ask him to wait.

Your thighs tremble and Zayne stills when a sudden gush of wetness spills against his fingers, down your thighs, and onto the mattress.

For a second, you're frozen. Humiliated. You've never done that—whatever that was. You glance up at Zayne, mortified, but his eyes are half-lidded, pupils blown wide like it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"You..—"

You squirm, your face flushing. "I'm sorry—"

Zayne shakes his head and surges down, capturing your lips with his. "Don't apologize. I don't want you to hold back with me."

You kiss back, your heart still pounding in your ears. "Was that..?"

"No. It's different," he murmurs against your lips. "But did it feel okay?"

You hum against his lips.

"Do you want to continue?" he asks, his fingers flexing inside you.

Yes.

Yes. Everything in you is screaming at him to please continue, but you just shake your head. "No, that was good."

Zayne stares, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. "Is that what you want?"

You chew on the inside of your cheek. "No..."

"What do you want, then?" Zayne shifts his fingers, the wet sound making your face burn. "Use your words."

"I want you to continue," you whisper.

Zayne hums, his lips twitching with a subtle smile as he leans up to press a small kiss to your forehead. "That's better."

Xavier <3 !

Xavier snuggles into your boobs, inhaling you like you're the only air he'll ever need. You sight softly, heat dripping low in your stomach despite your best efforts to keep your horny thoughts at bay.

"Xav.."

"Yes?" he murmurs, blinking up between your breasts.

The sight forces you to tear your eyes away. He's too good at this—the whole innocent 'I'm-just-resting-my-head-here' act when you know what he really wants.

"You're being naughty."

"No, I'm not." He closes his eyes and nuzzles into your chest again, his hands coming up to palm your breasts.

You'd been holding back with Xavier weeks given your... issues and he never questioned it too much. He was content with just kissing you, but he did get a little needy every now and then.

Like now.

You stare down and feel a pang of guilt. He's been so patient. Even when he wants it so much. You can feel it—physically feel how much he wants you when you two kiss and you're sitting in his lap.

You sigh, raking your hand through his hair. "Hey, Xavier."

"Mmn?"

"I'm sorry we haven't... gotten physical."

You mentally cringe.

"Don't apologize for that. This is good," Xavier hums, pressing a reverent kiss to your chest, the warmth of his lips seeping through the fabric of your shirt. "This is really good."

"But.. do you want more?"

Xavier looks up, blinking, like he can't decide whether this is a trick question or something you want an answer to.

"Um... I.. Is this a trick question?"

You give a rueful little smile. "No. Be honest."

"I mean, doing more with you would be nice. But I don't need it. I'm perfectly fine like this."

The ache between his legs might beg to differ, but he would never guilt you into doing something with him.

You stay silent, fidgeting with his messy hair.

Xavier immediately sits up when you don't say anything. "Did I say something wrong? Was that actually a trick question?"

You shake your head. "I just—I want to do things with you, Xavier... but... I can't come."

Now Xavier's silent. He wasn't expecting that.

"Oh. Do you know why?"

"No," you murmur. "I've tried everything. Nothing works. I even tried toys."

Xavier's face flushes at the mention of toys, eyes darting around like he's trying to find their hiding spots. Then, quickly he forces his eyes back to you. Now isn't the time to look for your secret dildos or whatever it is you tried.

"Oh," he says again, his chest tightening. "That's.. fine."

You pause. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, do you still feel good when you do... things?"

Your cheeks warm as you nod. "I just—I've never tried anything with you because it would be useless. I wouldn't—you know?"

The thought makes his cock twitch traitorously. Xavier shifts awkwardly, slowly crawling back over you. "I could still make you feel good, if you want me to."

He slides his hand down your waist and squeezes like it's the only thing keeping him from crumbling.

"Even though I wouldn't...?"

"It doesn't matter. I would do anything you want for as long as you want," Xavier insists. And he means it with every fiber of his being.

Your heart stutters and heat rushes between your legs.

"Is there anything you'd want to try?" Carefully, he dips his hand down your stomach, stopping between your thighs, his touch light. "I'll do it."

"Are you sure..?"

Xavier nods. "Positive."

Your body lights up at his answer, your head already swimming with all the things you've wanted him to do. But one thing sticks out.

Shyly, you start, "Would you... go down on me?"

Xavier can't bite back the strangled sound that comes out. "Yes," he breathes. "Yes, I would go down on you."

He slips his fingers under the waistband of your pants and underwear, waiting. "Can I?"

You nod, watching with clouded eyes as Xavier gently pulls your clothes off and dips his head between your legs. He pulls your legs over his shoulder and when you feel his breath on your needy heat, you think you want to keep him there forever.

He kisses you—soft at first, then harder. You just taste so good. Musky, a little sweet, too.

He wraps his hands around your thighs and starts eating you out like a man starved. You gasp, shooting your hand down to tangle in his hair.

"Xavier!"

He hums in response, the vibration making your toes curl. You didn't expect it to be so good, but it is. So, so good.

You roll your hips, unable to stop it and Xavier groans when he feels you. He even pulls your thighs to guide you on his face.

The sounds you two make are obscene. Wet, sloppy squelches, groans, and sighs that are borderline pornographic. It's something you never thought you'd experience.

And when Xavier slowly eases two fingers in, you nearly cry. How can he even reach that deep?

"Oh, God! X-xavier! You—You're—!"

He gives you slow pumps, his tongue working your clit at the same time. And when he curls his fingers, your hips jump.

"W-wait! Why does that feel so—?"

You can barely speak before he's doing it again. And again. And again. And again. You're a squirming mess, hips chasing his mouth and fingers.

"Xavier...! Wait I think I might—!"

Xavier moans when he feels you spill against him. But you're desperately trying to twist away from him, embarrassment stinging your cheeks.

You gasp. "Oh my god, did I just— I’m sorry, that was so gross—"

Xavier slowly eases away, chin and lips glistening with your arousal. He wipes it away, pupils blown wide pure adoration.

You can't even look at him, but you're still blurting out apologies like that might erase the mess you just made.

"Gross?" He breaths out an incredulous sound. "Are you kidding?"

You swallow hard. "It wasn't—?"

Xavier makes an incredulous sound. "That was the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

"W-what?"

"I loved it." He notes the way you're squeezing your knees together and feels a pang of guilt. "Were you enjoying yourself?"

You take a moment before giving a shy nod. "Yes. I just.. wasn't expecting that. Were you okay with that?"

"More than okay," he immediately answers.

"But that wasn't coming, was it?"

Xavier shakes his head. "No, not quite. You're sure it felt okay, though?"

"Mhmm.."

"Then, is it okay if I stay a little longer?" Xavier asks, sliding his hand over your knee.

Yes! You want to greedily pull him back down, but you see the way his chest falls and rises a little too quickly. "Don't you need a break?"

"No." He leans closer. "I don't need a break unless you do."

Your stomach flutters. "I don't need a break yet."

Xavier smiles, gently prying your legs apart and lowering his face between them again. "Then neither do I."

Sylus <3 !

"Something's been bothering you," Sylus says between kisses, his hands dragging up your sides and squeezing like he can't help it.

You sigh, arching into him. "What are you talking about?"

He presses a soft kiss to your head before pulling back. "Whenever we get intimate, you tense up." He cups your face, rubbing a soothing circle over your cheek before letting his fall to his side.

"You can tell me if this isn't what you want, sweetie. You always can."

You nod, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down as if to prove your point when you say, "I know... It's not that though."

Sylus chuckles when he feels you close your arm around his neck. "All right then. What is it?" He brings your hand up to his mouth and kisses it. Soft. Slow.

You smile, chest squeezing at the way his eyes never leave yours. "It's embarrassing.."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed of. Tell me what's on your mind."

You swallow hard, bracing yourself. "Um.. I really want to do stuff with you.. But I can't..."

Sylus quirks a brow, but he doesn't look accusing or judging; he is just curious. "Say more..."

"I can't.. come.."

There’s a beat of silence. A slow, terrifying beat, before Sylus finally nods in acknowledgment. "All right.. Do you want to talk about that more?"

Your cheeks burn an embarrassing red, but despite the heat, you still feel an odd sense of comfort. So, with a shaky breath, you start, "I still feel good. But there's just... no finish."

"No release," Sylus echoes, and you nod.

Sylus hums, nibbling on your knuckle. "So that's what it is? You don't want to burden me?"

You give a shy nod and Sylus almost can't help the scoff that slips past his lips. You frown, about to ask him what he's making that sound from when he leans down and kisses you. "You could never be a burden to me. In or out of bed."

You gasp against his lips.

"But—"

"No buts. Do you want to feel good?"

"..Yes."

"Then let me make you feel good."

–

The next time you see Sylus he pulls out a velvet-wrapped box, intricate designs engraved on its side.

Your eyes widen in surprise as you stare down at it, cheeks flushing like you already know what's inside.

"What's this?"

"These are options," he says, watching with an amused little smile as you slowly open the box. Inside are lubes, oils, and a few dildos. They look beginner-friendly, but it doesn't stop your mind from spinning.

"You don’t have to do anything tonight. Just… options for you, if you ever feel curious. I want you to feel safe."

You tentatively pull an oil out. "What's this?"

Sylus grins, his chest warming at the way your lips part with curiosity. "It's meant to enhance your pleasure."

Then slowly, you pull out the dildo. It's not as intimidating as you thought it'd be—It's actually a cute pink, not too big or too small, with a few ridges lining the side.

"Again, you don't have to try that."

Your mouth goes dry as you look back up at him. "I want to."

Sylus's lips twitch with a smirk. "You do?"

You nod, tapping the oil. "And... this too."

Sylus nudges the box aside and kisses the top of your head. "Tell me if you ever want to stop. This oil can be overwhelming at first."

You let him guide you onto your back and strip you down—slow and gentle. Like he would stay in this moment forever if you let him.

Then slowly, he rubs the oil on your clit, his touch making your back arch. Sylus smiles. "Does it feel good, sweetie?"

"Mhm."

"It'll take a few minutes to kick in, but in the meantime, we can explore with this." You watch, your stomach fluttering as Sylus applies a generous amount of lube on the toy, then gently nudges it at your entrance.

He watches every shift, careful not to hurt you.

And when he pushes it deeper, your little mewl makes him twitch in his pants.

"How does this feel, sweetie? Do you want more?"

You gasp, clutching his arm. "Yes, please!"

He presses deeper, giving you a moment to adjust. The second you start squirming your hips, he gently starts pumping the toy in and out, gauging your reactions. At the same time, he reaches down and starts rubbing firm circles over the achy bud between your legs.

You squeeze his arm tighter, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt.

"Talk to me," he breathes. "Is it too much?"

You furiously shook your head. "No! Please don't stop!"

Sylus lets out a soft laugh. You're beautiful like this. He works over every spot he knows will have your back arching and your toes curling, building you to a high you didn't know was possible.

"Sylus...! I feel like—Ah! Every time you do..hahh.. that! It feels like I'm... I'm gonna..!"

Sylus smiles, slowing down, just enough to let you relax, but not enough to let you come down from the high.

"Shhh... Let go. You're not going to pee, if that's what you think."

You grab him impossibly tight. "P-promise?"

Sylus nudges the dildo deep, hitting that spot once more and you nearly lose it. "I promise. Do you still want this?"

When you nod, he doesn't stop anymore. He hits all the right places, again and again and again. Then you feel it—the pressure in your stomach, the sickening tightness—

You barely have time to speak before you're spilling yourself on the dildo and his wrist.

Sylus lets out a stuttered breath. "God, look at you… absolutely stunning."

You want to flush, ask him if that's really what you thought it was, apologize for just... spilling yourself but he's already leaning down and kissing you.

"That was okay?" you ask between kisses and he groans.

"That was perfect. You're perfect."

Rafayel <3 !

Rafayel leans back, lips kiss-swollen, and brows furrowed in concern. "Hey, you okay? You..." Rafayel pauses, unable to hide the hint of offense, "tense every time we do this."

You open your mouth, unsure of what you're even going to say, but Rafayel quickly continues. "It's fine if you don't want this," he assures you, slipping his hand into yours and squeezing. "Just tell me. I don't ever want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"No.. It's not that..."

He sees the way you seem to shrink. "Not that I’m demanding fanfare every time I lean in,” he jokes, hoping that might ease the tension.

Your lips curl up in a small smile. "I know..."

"Then what is it?"

With a shaky breath, you finally manage, "I can't come."

Rafayel's brows come together. "You.. can't come?" he repeats, relief flooding his chest when you nod.

Not that he's happy you can't come, but at least it isn't him.

"I'm sorry I didn't know," he murmurs, cupping your cheek and pressing a light kiss to your forehead.

You smile, leaning into his touch. "It doesn't mean I don't experience pleasure though.. I just," you shrug softly, "never finish."

Rafayel nods, thoughtfully. "You should've told me sooner. I wouldn't have—"

"No, Raf—" you laugh breathlessly, cupping his face in your hands. "I'm trying to say that I want to do things with you. I want to right now."

Your cheeks warm when you hear yourself.

"I still feel good. And if you didn't mind..—"

"I don't mind," Rafayel answers, already slipping his hand around your waist and pulling you close. "I don't mind at all."

"Then do you want—" You break off on a yelp as Rafayel scoops you into his arms. You laugh, curling your arms around his neck. "What are you doing?"

"Setting the mood."

You scoff, nuzzling into his neck. "You don't have to make this a big deal."

"Why not? You're a big deal to me."

He gently sets you down on his bed and dims the light before crawling over you. You swallow hard, every cell in your body lighting up the instant he leans down to kiss you because now you know where this is going.

He's slow, gentle. The way he always is, but he's also hungrier, needier.

His hands drag down your side, remapping your body before finally landing between your legs. He pulls back to look at you as he applies gentle pressure.

Your breath catches in your throat.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Rafayel asks, his voice low, laced with a hint of frustration. Not at you though, at himself.

"I just didn't know if you'd still want to... do stuff if you knew."

Rafayel lets out a small shudder, rubbing firm circles through your clothes. "Do you seriously think I'd walk away because I know you better?"

You give a slow shake of your head. "I'm sorry.. I shouldn't have thought—"

Rafayel kisses you again, his hands slowly working your pants and underwear down your legs. "Don't apologize. I'm sorry."

He's gentle when he nudges your clothes away. "I should've been more attuned to you," he says, his hand finding the heated skin between your legs again.

He drags his fingers through your slit, a quiet breath slipping out when he feels how much you've wanted this.

"N-no, Rafayel," you try, your hips rolling into his touch. "It's not your fault."

"It is." He crushes his lips against yours, his fingers slowly working over your slick heat. "Let me make it up to you."

You press your palm to his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath the faint whiff of turpentine and terpene clinging to his skin. Then you nod.

"Okay."

Rafayel doesn't waste a single second. He pushes in slowly, his mouth parting at the way you cling to his finger.

He waits until he's certain you're ready, then he nudges another finger in, drinking in the way your face pinches with pleasure.

"Tell me if it’s too much, or not enough. Every stroke is for you."

"It's enough," you mewl, the sound shooting straight to his core. He can't help it. You're so beautiful like this.

He curls his fingers once, gasping when he touches the spot that makes your back arch and your hips jump.

"There?" he asks. "Do you like that spot?"

You don't even know what that spot means, you just know it feels good so you give a furious nod. "Yes! I like.. It!"

Rafayel knows he should keep his teasing to a minimum. You're being so open and vulnerable with him after all, but it slips out unbidden.

"That's it." He bites his lip, a silent scolding, but then it comes out again. "Falling apart on my fingers.."

When you flutter around his pumping digits, he nearly loses it.

You cling to his shirt, heart pounding. "Feels so good... keep talking.."

Rafayel shudders, his thumb brushing against your clit when he speaks. "Yeah? You want to hear my voice?" His voice dips, jaw tensing from the effort of holding himself back. "Look at you... dripping all over me."

He hits that perfect spot. And once he finds the exact place that makes you breathe out a whiny moan and curl your toes, he hits it again and again.

"You're so beautiful."

You feel your stomach burn, the pressure inside you coiling tight. Too tight.

"Rafayel..!"

You gasp as you spill yourself over him, a furious blush painting your cheeks. You want to curl up and his in his blankets, but he's leaning down and pressing his whole body weight onto you, kissing you slow and deep.

"You're my most beautiful work."

You make a muffled sound into the kiss, melting into it. When he pulls back, his cheeks are tinted a cute pink and his breathing is uneven.

"You said... that you don't finish.. but you can squirt?"

You cover your face. "Don't say that!"

Rafayel smiles. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's gorgeous."

You peek through your fingers. "Really?"

"Really."

He gently pulls your hands away and kisses you again. "Thank you for showing me that side of you."

"Thank you for helping me."

—

@cafekitsune for dividers!

i didnt like this.

[syncaleb]

The duality of this man 🥹😫✨🫶

[syncaleb]

── .✦ 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 & 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 -> « link »

•caleb casually drops the “we’re dating” lie at school like it’s no big deal. he is tired of the guy who sends you ‘wanderer samples’, or the dude who comes over the house asking to ‘borrow’ your homework. besides, he is a senior, older than you — soon he will leave the school & his precious pipsqueak will get swamped by men. disgusting. the thought alone sends shivers down his spine.

“nah, i can’t go out saturday. got a date with my girl.” he hums to one of his friends in the basketball court, juniors are also here, perfect! he made sure to say it echoing enough that everyone hears it.

“…your girl?”

“yeah, the one i live with? the one who comes cheerin’ me up for my matches? the one who i share my soda can with? duh.” honestly? it’s not hard to believe at all, that you and caleb are a thing… people don’t even question it. the way you touch him like he’s yours, the way you depend on him…

•however — you find out when someone congratulates you on “finally making it official” and you’re just standing there like ?????

caleb comes up right after, sipping from his stupid juice box, his hand gently wrapping around your waist, gentle… so careful… but firm.

“oh, pips, did you not tell them yet?”

•he acts like your boyfriend in every possible way. carries your books. pulls your chair out. walks you to class. then again… when does he not? you don’t notice any significant changes in caleb’s behaviour. and you are too kind to embarrass him like that…

you: “stop it. i am old now i don’t need your help—“

him: “i’m committed to the bit. besides, you are old doesn’t mean i would stop being there for you?”

•he’s extra affectionate at school but still the same annoying menace at home.

he’ll poke your forehead and be like,

“my girlfriend’s so short i gotta bend to reach her thoughts.”

and then dodge your swing like he’s done it a million times.

•grandma’s suspicious but says nothing. just watches the two of you with a knowing look and a cup of tea like she’s watching a soap opera play out in her living room. josephine hater ™️ -> me.

•eventually — caleb starts keeping you close in crowded hallways. real possessive.

“watch it,” he says to a senior who brushed your shoulder. “my cupcake’s kinda delicate.”

you: “i’m literally not? i want to be a hunter you’re being a cornball!”

caleb: just ruffles your hair with his soft grin.

•he puts “girlfriend 💕” as your contact name in his phone. when you try to change it, he changes his lockscreen to a blurry selfie of you mid-yawn captioned: cute little pipsqueak

honestly you don’t understand where it comes from, or why caleb suddenly tells everyone he’s your boyfriend. but eventually, you couldn’t care less.

•one day, when he was making his fussy eater (you) some braised chicken wings — you confront him about the rumor; and he just shrugs. the usual avoidance plastered on his face.

“everyone already thinks it. why not just… go with it?”

you: “why would you do that?”

he goes, suddenly quiet, expressive in a somber and yearning way: “because i wanted it to be true.”

•and he doesn’t look smug or cocky. he looks… soft.

and maybe you’re thinking about how he always saves you the last cookie. or he does your laundry because you hate it, or that he gives you piggy-back rides home because you get sassy that your feet hurt, or that he brought you a movie prop from your favorite movie… or how he lets you sleep in his arms in the attic…

how he always hovers.

how he yells at the TV for you during horror movies.

-> maybe it doesn’t sound so fake after all.

maybe next monday, you grab his hand in the hallway. by yourself, and the shock on his face… is all you needed to know to understand the intensity of his feelings…

maybe this time, the rumor becomes real.

[syncaleb]

You ever just get possessed by Caleb the moment you get some GOOD ASS apples in your house? I’ve been tearing up this bag since I got it. Feel like a deer who came across a goldmine of apples

[syncaleb]

so obsessed with the wedding planner story bc apparently zayne tried to walk like a penguin as a kid and there was a video of that shown to mc with two penguins in the back

and zayne says that they're a couple and he knows that bc one penguin just randomly carried a stone in his beak to give to the other penguin and im like BABE THATS LITERALLY YOU

hes so penguin coded with the randomly dropping candies into your hand i love his autism i love his little trinkets i love that man

[syncaleb]

he is pathetically in love with us and loves that we bring normalcy in his life <3

I’m so normal about Sylus teasing mc about how he has a large custom mattress as opposed to her pitiful regular sized mattress in Magnum Opus, but in the sleep quality feature he mumbles in his sleep about how his the mattress is too big because he wants to have mc closer to him. Bruh he wants not even a FRACTION of space between them he’s such a cuddle bug….

[syncaleb]

he ate akso hospital😭😭😭😭

mephi if u were here I would feed u tons of food. you might turn into a fat birb but you will be our fat birb, babies should be spoiled with love and food. take care of yourself little birdie I love u mwa

But the real question is, how fat of a mephie will you still adore? 🤔

Is he still baby? 😔 yes the answer is yes

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

((Quick note: To the unanswered asks still in my ask box- you have been acknowledged!! I just have a ton of drafts waiting in queue so imma try to space out ask replies so those posts can see the light of day 🫠))

[syncaleb]

-> after a day of code changes and sad days… i finally made the functionality work… sob sob so happy! 🥹 y’all better be proud of me hehe <3

[syncaleb]

A Photographer's worst nightmare LOL

I just know xav would be glowing so bright on his wedding day he'd ruin all the pics and yes that is jeremiah being blinded next to him LMAO

HAPPY WEDDING DAY!!!! Hope everyone's able to get the memories they want!!! 🥳🥳🥳

[syncaleb]

rafayel the type to moan into your ear and murmur how much he wants to marry you just as he's about to cum inside you OH i'm losing it

[syncaleb]

── .✦ 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐛 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 & 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 -> « link »

•caleb casually drops the “we’re dating” lie at school like it’s no big deal. he is tired of the guy who sends you ‘wanderer samples’, or the dude who comes over the house asking to ‘borrow’ your homework. besides, he is a senior, older than you — soon he will leave the school & his precious pipsqueak will get swamped by men. disgusting. the thought alone sends shivers down his spine.

“nah, i can’t go out saturday. got a date with my girl.” he hums to one of his friends in the basketball court, juniors are also here, perfect! he made sure to say it echoing enough that everyone hears it.

“…your girl?”

“yeah, the one i live with? the one who comes cheerin’ me up for my matches? the one who i share my soda can with? duh.” honestly? it’s not hard to believe at all, that you and caleb are a thing… people don’t even question it. the way you touch him like he’s yours, the way you depend on him…

•however — you find out when someone congratulates you on “finally making it official” and you’re just standing there like ?????

caleb comes up right after, sipping from his stupid juice box, his hand gently wrapping around your waist, gentle… so careful… but firm.

“oh, pips, did you not tell them yet?”

•he acts like your boyfriend in every possible way. carries your books. pulls your chair out. walks you to class. then again… when does he not? you don’t notice any significant changes in caleb’s behaviour. and you are too kind to embarrass him like that…

you: “stop it. i am old now i don’t need your help—“

him: “i’m committed to the bit. besides, you are old doesn’t mean i would stop being there for you?”

•he’s extra affectionate at school but still the same annoying menace at home.

he’ll poke your forehead and be like,

“my girlfriend’s so short i gotta bend to reach her thoughts.”

and then dodge your swing like he’s done it a million times.

•grandma’s suspicious but says nothing. just watches the two of you with a knowing look and a cup of tea like she’s watching a soap opera play out in her living room. josephine hater ™️ -> me.

•eventually — caleb starts keeping you close in crowded hallways. real possessive.

“watch it,” he says to a senior who brushed your shoulder. “my cupcake’s kinda delicate.”

you: “i’m literally not? i want to be a hunter you’re being a cornball!”

caleb: just ruffles your hair with his soft grin.

•he puts “girlfriend 💕” as your contact name in his phone. when you try to change it, he changes his lockscreen to a blurry selfie of you mid-yawn captioned: cute little pipsqueak

honestly you don’t understand where it comes from, or why caleb suddenly tells everyone he’s your boyfriend. but eventually, you couldn’t care less.

•one day, when he was making his fussy eater (you) some braised chicken wings — you confront him about the rumor; and he just shrugs. the usual avoidance plastered on his face.

“everyone already thinks it. why not just… go with it?”

you: “why would you do that?”

he goes, suddenly quiet, expressive in a somber and yearning way: “because i wanted it to be true.”

•and he doesn’t look smug or cocky. he looks… soft.

and maybe you’re thinking about how he always saves you the last cookie. or he does your laundry because you hate it, or that he gives you piggy-back rides home because you get sassy that your feet hurt, or that he brought you a movie prop from your favorite movie… or how he lets you sleep in his arms in the attic…

how he always hovers.

how he yells at the TV for you during horror movies.

-> maybe it doesn’t sound so fake after all.

maybe next monday, you grab his hand in the hallway. by yourself, and the shock on his face… is all you needed to know to understand the intensity of his feelings…

maybe this time, the rumor becomes real.