#( caleb trapped in his own mind )

[astravates]

at the moment you want...

to be free.

you've been trying to leave for so long. something is keeping you there, like being chained, or locked in. in the moment, you feel trapped. your heart desires to feel freedom, and this could be physical or mental, or even both. physically. you may be truly trapped, confined in a situation that seems to have no end, or even trapped in your own emotions. you desire to let go, to feel free once again and at peace. there are ways to free yourself, all hope isn't lost.

tagged by: @seeliecourt (thank you!) tagging: @oathwilled, @wildskissed, @sanguisarcana, @recitedemise, @notyetfixed, @cupcaketrickster, @infernaliscor & whoever!

[jinwoosungs]

02/22/25; 09:32pm

{ 18 + drabbles / headcanons }

[ bedroom eyes ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

the sensation of sylus’s large hand trailing up and down the length of your legs makes you shudder in response. he says your name, voice filled with reverence when it falls at the last syllable.

his touch was gentle, oh so gentle as he gently cups at the back of your neck. his featherlight touches makes your pulse quicken, the sweet anticipation felt coursing through your veins when you felt sylus wrap his arms beneath your form. he carries you away from the living room, trapping you within his gaze as you found yourself unable to look away from him.

eyes as bright at ruby gemstones slowly morph into endless voids of onyx, the darkness seeming to spread as evident of his desire for you. once you were back in the privacy of your room does he close and lock the door, the sound of the latch securing in place serving as evidence to what will transpire tonight.

you were placed against the plush mattress, your hands gripping at the silky sheets when sylus descends upon you, lips moving against yours when he forces your tongue in a seductive dance with him. your mind goes hazy, as if you had become hypnotized by the his gaze, not able to speak a single word when sylus sheds off the sheer material of your nightgown.

something about seeing your lover fully dressed while you remained utterly bare for him unlocked a primal need deep inside of you. your breasts felt sensitive to his every touch, goosebumps erupting in the wake of his reverent caresses against your skin. each gasp and soft mewl that escapes from your parted lips was met with an almost cocky expression from the onychinus leader-

for he knew that he was the only one who could make you fall apart for him like this.

your soft mewls turn into moans when sylus settles you on his lap, your naked body pressed against the expensive material of his suit. he lays you across his arms, lips already latching on to your chest when his tongue curls around the hardened bud of your nipple. with hands delving themselves into his silvery locks of hair, you shiver with need for him, feeling the way his teeth lightly grazes against your sensitive skin, the hedonistic sensation making the slick flood from your center.

as if detecting the sweet scent in the air, sylus releases the hardened bud from his mouth. his voice was now raspier, filled with need when he manages to press you back against the bed. your breathing becomes ragged, eyes glazed over when you felt your walls suddenly clench with need for him.

but you didn’t have to wait for long.

sylus hovers over you, spreading your legs while settling himself between your thighs. he takes in the sight of your center, moistened with the evidence of your arousal before pressing his lips against your heat. your moans echo throughout the room, feeling the wet muscle of sylus’s tongue intruding into you, as if wishing to devour everything you had to offer.

and when you saw how hungry his gaze was, you knew that you were in for a long night.

zayne could barely focus on his novel with you smiling and giggling so much beside him.

here he was, simply enjoying a peaceful night of reading in bed with you, yet all he could focus on were the sounds of your laughter. he takes a glance at your novel, assuming it was one of those cheesy romantic comedies in novel form-

and your laughter was just too sweet to ignore.

taking off his glasses, zayne knew that his eyes had considerably darkened, no longer able to focus on his own novel as he found something more desirable to do. he turns his attention to you, softly calling out your name so that you could meet his gaze.

with a hum, you close your own novel and smile back at him-

only to have your eyes widen in response when zayne surges forward, stealing your kiss in a breathtaking kiss. like a man starved for you, he keeps your head still, kissing you like you were his sole lifeline while slowly pressing you back against the bed.

when the need for air proved to be too much did zayne break away from the kiss first, hiding his face within the curve of your neck as he slides his hand down the waistband of your pajama pants. with a tiny smile, he places a kiss against your skin, hands tracing at the soft material of your panties before thrusting his fingers inside of your slick.

your hands were felt gripping at the sheets, panting while zayne worked his fingers in and out of your core. using your soft moans to further his own desires for you, zayne purposely collects your honeyed arousal against his fingertips, using them as lubricant to further travel inside of your center. giving your hardened bundle of nerves a gentle pinch, you could no longer hold back your climax, spilling yourself against his hand.

a rich chuckle was heard coming from your lover when he finally extracts his hand from your panties, his eyes admiring the shiny quality of his fingertips left by your release before placing them in his mouth, licking them clean one by one (never once looking away from you) as you trembled with need for him in response.

the movie you and xavier were currently watching plays on the screen. the plot was mildly interesting as you at your snacks while watching the film, dimly aware of your boyfriend’s movement from beside you.

yet you didn’t move your gaze away from the screen, simply assuming that he needed to use the restroom, or refill his own snacks in the kitchen. however, your expectations were shattered when you saw xavier kneeling in front of you, working on taking off your shorts.

“xavier, what are you-“

“ssh.” he interrupts you with a hiss, “don’t worry about what i’m doing and just focus on the screen.”

you purse your lips in response, your appetite lost as you did your best to focus on the film. the movie had become mere background noise for you now, with your senses heightened the moment you felt xavier pull down your shorts and panties in one swift motion.

the cool air felt against your skin causes numerous goosebumps to erupt, and upon feeling xavier’s slender fingers tracing at the outer lips of your cunt, your breathing hitches.

“don’t look, okay starlight?” with xavier’s last warning, you nearly jump upon feeling the sensation of his hot mouth against your slick heat, tongue traveling within your walls as you felt your arousal leak out of you in waves. your boyfriend was relentless when it came to tasting you, feeling his fingers and tongue working its magic as he drew out even more of your desperate and needy cries for him.

“ngh…! hah… hah…” your moans echo throughout the living room with xavier burying his face within your thighs, not even caring that you were suffocating him with how you had him practically clamped against you. the red hot pleasure felt coursing through your veins was all too much as your back arches against the couch, spilling yourself within xavier’s mouth just moments later.

with an audible grunt, xavier made sure to drink up all you had to offer, pressing one last kiss on your sensitive cunt before pulling up your panties and shorts. while you were left trembling (your panties still soaked from the evidence of your release), your hunter boyfriend acts like nothing had just transpired, sapphire blue eyes staring at the television while he drops a few popcorn within his mouth, not even looking at you while he chewed.

and as the movie continues to play, you began thinking of ways to get back at him for what he had done to you.

your fingers slowly move the new lip gloss across rafayel’s full lips, his beauty seeming to increase as his skin glowed in response to the new skincare routine you had started with him.

capping the gloss, you give him a pout, “it isn’t fair how much prettier you are compared to me, rafe.”

the young artist gives you an incredulous expression. “you can’t be serious, princess! you’re utterly gorgeous!”

you scoff upon hearing his compliment, giving his cheek a gentle poke. “please, it feels like you’re only dating me as some charity work.”

your words were only meant to be viewed as a joke, yet the annoyance in his gaze made you realize that your self deprecation only served to annoy him. “do you really think that way about yourself?”

before you could respond, rafayel moves you onto his lap, narrowing his gaze at you while burning with unbidden passion, “if that’s how you really feel, then i suppose it’s only my duty as your boyfriend to prove you wrong.”

he lays you back against the couch, tossing aside the cosmetic in your hand while slowly unbuttoning your blouse. your breath hitches when your front was revealed to him, feeling rafayel’s hand behind your back as he unclasps your bra. he whispers your name, biting against the shell of your ear while removing the fabric that once covers your chest.

soft lips were felt latching on to your shoulder, a trail of hot and wet kisses leaving you trembling in response. you bask in rafayel’s open show of worshipping you, waiting with bated breath when his kisses were felt trailing down your collars before landing at your breast.

he takes a nipple into his mouth, lightly biting down against it as you cried out to him. the sensation of his tongue and teeth curled and biting on your sensitive skin causes a wave of need to course through you, making you feel how damp your panties had gotten in response to his ministrations.

“i’m going to make sure to kiss every inch of your skin, princess.” he murmurs against your heaving breasts, pressing another wet kiss against it before continuing, “so you better be prepared for this… since i have no plans of stopping anytime soon.”

“w-what did you just tell me to do, caleb?”

you truly thought that you were hearing things, yet the seductive gaze seen within the colonel’s eyes was undeniable-

and you found yourself becoming weak to such a hedonistic gaze.

caleb simply shakes his head in response all while licking his lips, “i think you heard me just fine, babe. i want you to ride my face.”

you were shaking now, feeling a strange surge of desire coursing through you. your walls clench in response to his heated command, and embarrassingly enough-

you could already feel the moisture staining at the front of your panties.

as if reading your thoughts, caleb’s gaze darkens, refusing to hear your weak protests when he takes your wrist and leads you back into the bedroom. tossing aside his shirt and pants, caleb purposely leaves his boxers on, the considerable tent settled against the fabric serving as evidence to how much he wanted this-

to how much he wanted you.

and with his body on full display for you, you felt every bit of your inhibitions melting away. letting out a shuddering breath of caleb’s name (tone filled with need for him), you slowly take off your own clothes-

“panties too, baby. i want to taste every inch of you.”

a shiver of pleasure runs down your spine, and you step out of your skirt and panties, kicking them aside before climbing onto the bed with caleb. you meet his gaze, seeing the adoration in his eyes when you lean down to kiss him. as if running on instinct, his lips perfectly slot against yours, tongues tangled up in a familiar dance as you both moan into the kiss.

when the need for air was too much, caleb pulls away from the kiss first, snapping his fingers as he pointed at his face, “you know what to do, babygirl. get on my face, let me make you feel good while tasting you.”

heat was settled against your cheeks, with you giving caleb a final nod before crawling towards his head. you place your legs on both sides of his face, your cunt clenching while hovering over him as you tried to ignore the embarrassment you felt at what you were about to do.

yet your hesitation only serves to make caleb impatient for you when he suddenly grips at your waist before bringing you down on his face. the sensation of his tongue moving even further within your heat makes you cry out to him. the palms of your hands were planted on the mattress, your nails gripping at the sheets settled below you.

you felt caleb’s tongue thrust with a desperation in and out of your slick walls, and he was reaching so deep inside of you that you found your hips grinding into his face. the moans that spill from your parted lips were nothing short of pornographic, and you were certain that the whole world would be able to hear just how good caleb was making you feel.

and when you thought it couldn’t get any better-

caleb manages to curl his tongue around your swollen clit, giving it a harsh suck as it manages to tilt you over the edge, with you spilling yourself into caleb’s awaiting mouth, thighs tightening around his head. your back arches while you wildly rode out your orgasm, moving your hips back and forth on caleb’s face, your nails nearly ripping apart the sheets from the sheer intensity of your release.

once you were certain you had emptied yourself into caleb did you gasp, finally realizing that you were practically suffocating him. you immediately spread your thighs and remove your cunt from his mouth-

only to see the lovesick and flushed expression on caleb’s face, letting you know that he has enjoyed this experience as much as you had. letting out a relieved sigh, you move down his muscular body and gently pull down the waistband of his boxers. his breathing hitches in response, watching you with hungry eyes when you revealed his erection to you.

you stroke him a few times, using his precum to further lubricate his shaft before sliding your slick heat down every inch of him. setting a steady pace, the bed bounces in tune to your movements-

with you thinking that this was the best way to thank your boyfriend for the mind-blowing climax he had just gifted to you ♡

end notes: unedited, but i felt inspired so please do enjoy this thirst post 🙂‍↕️ also yes, that is sousuke aizen as my banner, the daddiest of them all in bleach.

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[mihanisms]

another yan!caleb drabble

— back on my caleb shenanigans....i need this man so bad. also a tribute to me getting painful signal And a manifestation for me to get his myth cards infold Please Pleeeease Please

— overstimulation, mindbreak, pathetic mean switchy yandere caleb because i think he needs to apologize to us by fucking both his and our brains out. very obsessive / hate-fucky undertones and BREEDING KINK! MENTIONS OF PREGNANCY AND BABY TRAPPING! you have been warned...also this is kind of monologuey from his perspective? idk my brain just shit this out

You were mad at Caleb. You were mad at Caleb. You were mad at-

Fuck, you couldn't even pretend that you had any remaining hostility for him when he was fucking your brains out just right, whimpering out your name like a prayer. "'M sorry for leaving you, princess, I- fuck wouldn't have 'f I didn't need to-" He buries his face into your shoulder, muffling the slew of curses spilling from his mouth, lost in the feeling of your cunt squeezing him just right.

You had lost the amount of time the two of you had been at this, your mind hardwired to the feeling of his cock pounding you, the sloppy sounds of skin slapping against skin and your moans mingling together being the only thing filling up the room.

Suddenly, Caleb's hands move to your thighs, folding you in a mating press and it only felt better, like he was hitting the deepest parts of you now. You could only moan louder and claw at his back, eyes rolling back as your legs shake in his grip. He lets out a soft whine, his mind turning to mush at the vice grip of your pussy. "Princess, god you feel so good, you're taking me just right-" His thrusts only grow more vigorous, wanting to map out every inch of you and ingrain it into his brain.

Your mind felt like it was spinning from the amount of pleasure you were receiving, from Caleb's cock repeatedly drilling into you and the rapid, short gasps of air he was taking. "You think- you think you can take one more f'me, baby?" You could only muster up a quick nod, but that doesn't satisfy him. Letting one of your legs go, he slows down his thrusts and tilts up your head, forcing you to meet his eyes. "Use your words, princess. can you take one more for me?"

It takes a while for you to gather the mushed-up words in your head and force them out of your mouth, but you manage a shaky "M-Mm, I can- I can take one more f'you, Caleb. Pl-ease just one moaaah-!"

Whatever you were about to say gets cut off by your boyfriend resuming his harsh thrusts, his hand moving down from your face to press on the slight bulge now peeking from your stomach. "Good, you can take it..." At this point, his eyes were wild with hunger, greedily drinking in each and every one of your reactions - the tears pricking at your eyes, the drool leaking from the side of your mouth, all of it he committed to memory. This was all because of him. The sight drives him to the brink, his hips moving faster and faster as he loses himself in the feeling of you, everything that was welling up inside him threatening to spill over - both figuratively and literally.

Caleb was panting like a dog in heat with every move he made, his desperation of wanting to fuck you mirroring your desperation to get fucked. You, you, you, you. More, more, more, more. He wanted more, he wanted to consume you, to envelop your very being with his own so that he was the only person you could see, touch, and talk to. You two would never have to be separated again, not by his will or anyone else's.

With every gasp for breath that you took, Caleb's desire to have you intensified, his obsessiveness spilling out of his mouth without a second thought - you were too fucked out to understand anything he was saying, anyways.

"Fuck princess, you reaaaally like getting fucked like this, dont'ya? Getting used like a dirty fuckin' slut, my dirty fuckin' slut? Think i'm gonna get you all nice and filled up, keep you here with me hm? You'd be a good mother i just know it-" The thought of mini you's and him's running around had his eyes rolling back, his legs quivering and his balls tightening up in preparation for his release.

"I really think- I really think this one'll be it, princess. You finally won't be able to leave me, not when you've been stuffed full of my cum and babies, and fuck- Everyone'll just have to accept that i'm yours and you're mine, and nothing-" Caleb's mind is fuzzy, lost in his fantasies as he drills into you, right on the precipice of ruin, "nothing will ever come between us again."

In your state of mind, you were able to make out nothing but the mix of roughness and possessiveness in his voice, yet you were still able to sense the overflowing love he had for you, no matter what it was that he was saying. Already way past your limit, his cock bullying your abused hole leads you to orgasm one last time, a pathetic mewl leaving you as your body spasms and your juices flow down onto him.

The pitiful sound that comes from you and the way your body shakes underneath his was caleb's last straw, his cock spurting out ropes of cum into your waiting pussy. He's left panting and grunting, eyes transfixed on the way your cum had mixed together. "You look so...so pretty like this, princess..." He then collapses on top of you, the hours of sex taking its toll on him as he grinds into you a few more times before going limp, his chest rising up and down rapidly with yours as he tries to catch his breath - and you, your consciousness.

With the remaining strength he had, he manages to move you both to the cleaner side of the bed, pulling out his softening cock from your sopping hole. He leaves a tender kiss on one of the many marks he had left throughout the night, but not before gently prying your legs apart to clean up any remaining cum you had on your legs and pushing it back into you. He couldn't forget what he had just promised you, now could he?

Satisfied with his work and feeling lulled by your soft, shaky breaths, Caleb decides that any further aftercare would be given once the both of you had recharged, his arms that were previously just used to hold you down now wrapping around your body as he slots himself right behind you, joining you in comfortable, well-earned sleep.

a/n: i hope this was a coherent fic, lowkey I wrote this gone as fuck at 3 in the morning so I'm sorry if it's a bit janky

[bizarrelovetriangel]

imagining you.

X-02!caleb feels lust and desire for the first time and is unable to fight against his body's urges.

includes spoilers from decoherence. also here's part two where caleb isn't so..... lonely.

mdni. 18+ only. male masturbation. with all that armor, this was a challenge to write fr.

X-02 finds himself thinking of A-01 yet again.

The security is down, and the researchers are having an urgent crisis that required their presence elsewhere, so he was left alone in his transparent glass experimental pod.

He knows you're also alone in your pod, sleeping as your system recovers from the last time you were used in the battlefield.

A single wall is the only thing dividing your rooms and yet it feels like there's a whole planet between you two.

He pressed his hands on the barrier of his own pod, wishing that he could reach you.

He longs to see you.

Every time he wakes up, he feels the need to find you.

The more he thinks of you, the stronger this strange feeling inside him gets.

The urge to touch you.

He can't recall when the strange feeling started. All he knows is that it is linked to you. Everytime he thinks about you, that strange feeling intensifies.

Ever since that day that he met you, that day when you'd attempted to escape Othan Research Bureau, that day you named him Caleb, you became the subject of every thought in his mind.

Caleb has met plenty of other individuals. He'd encountered endless researchers, soldiers, and civilians from all the places he'd been to. Out of everyone, the one that took a permament place in his mind is you. He thinks about you at every second of the day. You're his every waking thought.

All he'd ever done is watch you.

And imagine you.

He can't stop himself from fantasizing about being with you.

He wanted to take you to places you've never visited. He wanted to give you fruits that you've never eaten. He wanted to make you feel emotions that you've never experienced before.

He wanted to see you smile. He wanted to hear your voice. He wanted to feel your warmth. He wanted to know how you would feel if he holds you close to him.

Even though you're both androids, behind the layers of wires and armor, your bodies are built to appear and function just like a human body. You're able to bleed, sweat, and cry. You're able to feel.

Over the years that he'd been sent out to various places, Caleb has learned plenty about humanity and their behavior.

One of the things he discovered years ago is how people show they care for others without saying any words: holding someone close to one's own body, embracing them to feel their warmth, and even just holding one's hands.

Then, the kisses.

Gently pressing one's lips against any part of another person's body, though the most special one is a kiss on the lips. Caleb learned that the most special person is the only one that gets a kiss on the lips.

For all the days that followed, Caleb wished to hold you and kiss you.

His hands yearned to trace your figure and feel your warmth. His bottom lip would become stained with blood as his teeth would trap it every time he thought about kissing your lips.

In his pod, while the researchers are away and all eyes on him are shut, Caleb lets out a shaky breath.

He run one hand from his chest to his hips, feeling his body heating up.

It's a different kind of heat that he'd get whenever his system is being refilled with energy. This heat.... it's uncomfortable, yet it feels... good, and it's fueled by the thought of you.

He doesn't know what this feeling is, but Caleb feels helpless against it.

He can't fight it.

Caleb allowed his left hand to travel where his body felt the most...painful.

Right between his thighs.

Something is pulsating.

Caleb gritted his teeth with frustration as his exoskeleton prevented him from feeling his own body that's buried underneath.

With an exception from the center of his torso, his entire body is protected by an impenetrable shell that's meant to protect him in the battlefield.

The heat was getting worse. His vision was starting to get hazy.

He felt like he was going to explode if he doesn't relieve himself.

The throbbing feeling was getting unbearable. It felt like an itch that needed to be scratch, but it was a completely different sensation that had him feeling desperate.

Caleb shut his eyes and growled as his limbs moved on their own, failing to resist the heat that had taken over his body.

He'd ripped out the armor on left arm and hand as well as the ones on his lower body: all that's covering his hips, thighs, legs, and feet have come off and fallen on the floor of the pod.

Small sparks went off after he roughly tugged on the wires that regulated the armor that he had just destroyed.

Without a doubt, he'd broken the exoskeleton and his system will need to be repaired. but that's an issue for another time. Right now, his mind is racing and cannot focus on anything else but his own needs.

There was still the skin-tight suit that's masking his skin and flesh, but that's impossible to remove on his own without doing serious damage on his own system and body.

For now, this is good enough.

Caleb can feel the warmth and softness of his own body - except for what lies between his legs. A shaft that's hard and throbbing, fighting against his bodysuit.

A ragged, quiet moan slips out of his mouth the moment his hand rubbed against it.

Caleb's back hit the glass wall as he spread his legs wider apart.

He closed his eyes and like always, the first image that pops up is you.

Caleb stroke himself over the suit with you in his mind.

He imagined that it was your hands rather than his own, and the overwhelming, euphoric feeling increased by a tenfold.

He felt his bodysuit get tighter, specifically below his hips. The bulge that he'd been palming had gotten bigger and more painful as your face and body took over his mind.

The back of his head rested against the pod's barrier as he let out heavy breaths. His hips thrusted upwards, desperate for the friction being delivered by his hand.

"Nhnnnnggg,,," Caleb's volume increased along with the pacing of his hand movement.

He imagined the two of you outside of the laboratory, far, far way, in a home at the edges of Deepspace.

It'd be just you and him, holding each other tightly, caressing and pressing your lips in each other's bodies.

He wanted to see you and touch you without your exoskeleton and bodysuit. He wanted to feel your bare skin and flesh against his own. He wanted every part of his body to feel yours. He wanted to become one with you.

"So.... good....."

Caleb grinded his crotch against his hand faster as he feels his stomach and hips clenching while his heart races faster.

Suddenly, a part of him shoots out his body.

From under the bodysuit, something warm and wet clings to his skin. The bodysuit becomes slightly damped with it, though it's not noticable.

Caleb wasn't sure what happened, but the heat and overwhelming feeling is gone.

Well, mostly gone.

But he didn't have time to do anything about it because his ears detected the humming of machines around him, which means the security is back on.

Caleb couldn't find it in him to collect himself and attempt to fix his exoskeleton because he was overcome with drowsiness.

"Good night, my one and only."

////////////

"What happened to X-02's exoskeleton?! And why is his system down and malfunctioning all of a sudden?! He hasn't gone out for three days!" One researcher yells after finding Caleb's condition upon returning to his room.

"We couldn't see anything since our security and cameras were shut down. He might've been attacked." another, less-experienced researcher responded with a shrug.

"But the levels of his body's serotonin, dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin have all increased for some reason. If he was attacked, why is his data saying that he enjoyed it?"

"Probably just another error, which is typical when it comes to X-02. There's always something wrong with him."

"Yeah, you're right."

[rafayelxsylusho]

The first time he heard you 🫲🏻 yourself...part 2

Finally done with this one!!

TW: SMUT

and also Caleb calls us meimei a couple of times

Enjoy!!!

"Did you call for me pipsqueak? Did you moan my name because you needed me?"

Your heart races as you tug your hands away from your sensitive flesh, a rush of embarrassment and shock coursing through you.

You can't help but let your gaze rake over Caleb's form, tall and imposing. His eyes are dark, almost black in the dim light of the room, and you feel pinned in place by his intense stare. Your heart hammers wildly in your chest as you sit up, the sheets rustling loudly in the sudden silence.

"Caleb," you breathe out, voice trembling slightly as you try to gather your thoughts. "I... I didn't know you were awake. I thought..." You swallow hard, realizing there's no way to explain what he just saw. What you were doing.

Embarrassment colors your cheeks a deep, telling red as you quickly tug his shirt down, trying to cover more of your bare legs. Your hair is messy around your face, a clear indication of your recent activities. You feel the lingering heat between your thighs, the dampness that coats them, and pray that Caleb can't somehow sense it, that he can't guess at the filthy thoughts that were running through your head just moments before.

You feel your heart leap into your throat as he approaches you, dominating the space around the bed. His eyes, dark and intense, never leave yours as he closes the distance between you. You can't look away, trapped by the force of his gaze.

His large hand reaches out, fingers brushing against the fabric of the shirt you're wearing. The shirt that was once his. The one you "borrowed" without asking, loving the way it smells like him. Like home.

"Pipsqueak," he murmurs, his voice is low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. "You moaned my name." It's not a question, but a statement. A realization. His fingers curl into the fabric of the shirt, fisting it slightly.

"And I heard you," he continues,he is so close you can feel the heat radiating off his body. His other hand comes up, cupping your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. "I heard you moan my name, princess."

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, a gesture that's almost tender. Almost loving. But there's something else beneath it. Tension. Hunger.

"No wonder I couldn't find this shirt," he says, giving the fabric a slight tug. "It was here all along. With you." His eyes bore into yours, searching. Seeing. Knowing. "Were you thinking of me, pipsqueak? Is that why you were touching yourself? Imagining it was my hands on you instead of your own?" His voice drops to a whisper. "Making you come undone?"

You try to speak, to form words, but your throat feels tight, your mouth dry. Caleb's proximity, his eyes looking at you, has rendered you speechless. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest, echoing loudly in your ears as you stare up at him, eyes wide. He's so close now. Too close. Close enough that you can feel his breath on your face, smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him. It's intoxicating. Overwhelming. Your head spins slightly as you try to process his words, the implication behind them.

His hand on your chin, his fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt that you're wearing, it's all too much. Too intense. Too...everything. Your body feels hot, your skin tingling where he touches you, where he's not touching you. You're aware of every inch of you.

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. Trying to deny his accusation. But the words won't come out. Because deep down, he's right. In your mind, it was him. His hands, his touch, his body. You were imagining it was him bringing you to the brink of ecstasy, his name on your lips.

Your tongue darts out, wetting your dry lips, and you see his eyes follow the movement. Your breath hitches, chest rising and falling rapidly as you struggle to maintain some control. But it's a losing battle. You're losing yourself in his dark eyes, drowning in the intensity of the moment. All you can manage is a breathless whisper, a single word that hangs heavy in the air between you. "Caleb..." It's a plea. A question. A prayer. You don't know what you're asking for. But you know you need it. Need him.

Caleb leans in even closer, his nose brushing against your hair, inhaling deeply. He breathes in your scent, his lips curling into a smile against your temple. "You smell like my shirt. Like you've been wearing it all day, maybe hoping I wouldn't notice." His hand slides from your chin, fingers trailing down the side of your neck. Your pulse jumps beneath his touch and he feels it, of course he does. Nothing escapes Caleb's notice.

"What were you thinking about?" he murmurs, his voice low against your ear "When you had your fingers buried deep inside your little cunt." His other hand moves from the shirt, his palm pressing flat against your stomach, fingers splaying possessively over your belly. "Tell me what had you so worked up, princess. What dirty thoughts were running through this pretty little head of yours?"

His lips press against your neck, just below your ear, and he nips lightly at the sensitive skin. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to make your body jolt with pleasure and pain. You can't hold back the moan that escapes your lips as his teeth graze your neck, your body arching into his touch involuntarily. "Caleb," you whimper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. But before the sound can fully register, he's hushing you, his finger pressing against your lips.

"Shh, keep your voice down," he warns, his own voice a low rasp. "Grandma's sleeping right next door. Wouldn't want to wake her." Despite his words, there's a glint of dark amusement in his eyes, as if the idea of being caught together like this appeals to some primal part of him. His hand on your belly moves to your inner thigh. He can feel the heat radiating off your skin, growing more intense with each inch he covers. As his fingers reach the apex of your thighs, he pauses, brows furrowing as he encounters an unusual texture. He glances down, noticing the damp spot that has formed on the sheets and shirt beneath you, a clear indication of your arousal. His eyes widen slightly, understanding dawning on face. He looks back up at you. "Pipsqueak," he murmurs "You're not wearing anything under my shirt, are you?" His fingers press lightly against the drenched fabric of the shirt.

"You're fucking drenched," he says, "Were you this wet just from thinking about me? From touching yourself to the thought of being with me? Fuck," he groans, his own arousal growing, straining against the confines of his pajamas. "If this is what you're like from just touching yourself, I can only imagine how soaked you'd be if it was really my cock buried inside of you"

You squirm beneath his touch, feeling the heat of his hand so close to your aching pussy. Deep down, you know this is wrong. Dangerous. "Caleb, we... we shouldn't be doing this," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's not right, not with Grandma right next door..." Your words trail off, lacking conviction even to your own ears. You want to push his hand away, to put an end to his sinful, tempting touch. But your body remains still, frozen in place, trapped between the need for him and the knowledge that this is a line that can never be crossed.

Caleb ignores your protest, too consumed by your body's response, the damp patch on the shirt growing with each passing second. His thumb finds your nipple, touching the stiff peak through the thin fabric of his shirt. He circles it slowly, teasingly, feeling it harden even more under his touch.

"Shouldn't be doing this?" he whispers, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches your face, taking in every expression, every hitch in your breath. "But your body's telling a different story, pipsqueak."

His hand leaves the heat between your legs, trailing up, slipping underneath the shirt to cup the soft weight of your other breast. He squeezes gently, kneading the supple flesh.

"Look at how hard they are for me," he whispers, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "Look at how much your body wants to be touched by me. Tell me to stop then," he challenges, his eyes dark and intense. "Tell me you don't want this. That you don't want me."

As Caleb pinches the nipple, he is touching under your shirt, between his thumb and forefinger, a jolt of pleasure shoots straight through your core. Your legs part instinctively, knees falling open to expose your dripping sex to the cool air of the room. At the same time, your back arches, pressing your chest further into his touch, silently begging for more. He takes advantage of your body's display, bending his head to capture the stiff peak of your nipple between his teeth. Even through the thin, damp fabric of his shirt, you can feel the heat of his mouth, the way his tongue swirls around the sensitive bud. He suckles hard, the wet patch on the shirt growing as your nipple hardens even further from the intense stimulation. "Fuck, the way you respond to me," Caleb groans around your nipple, his words muffled but still clear. "Like your body was made for my touch. Made to be claimed by me." Your fingers tangle in Caleb's hair, tugging him closer as he lazes his tongue over the sensitive peak of your nipple. A needy whimper escapes your lips, your chest heaving with each ragged breath. Your thighs tremble, legs falling open even wider, inviting, offering yourself up to him.

Caleb's hand touching you under your shirt moves down and hovers, once again, dangerously close to your dripping sex. He teases you, not quite touching, his touch maddeningly close but not close enough.

"Tell me what you need, pipsqueak," he murmurs, his breath hot against your nipple, his words vibrating through your core. "Tell me to touch this pretty little pussy. Beg me to make you come all over my fingers."

"Caleb...please"

He bites your nipple softly, your fingers tighten in his hair, your body trembling with need beneath him. "Please what?" he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing rumble. "I need you to say it. To tell me exactly what you want." Your hips twitch, trying to close the minimal distance, to grind your aching cunt against his hand, but Caleb pulls back slightly, denying you the contact you crave.

"Tell me to touch this desperate, dripping cunt," he demands, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. "Tell me how badly you need my fingers inside you, filling you, fucking you until you scream my name."

His thumb brushes maddeningly close to your clit, making your body jerk and your breath hitch.

."Please, Caleb, please touch me," you whimper, your voice breaking with desperation "Please I need you inside me" Your hips buck upwards, trying again to close the remaining distance between his teasing fingers and your soaked, aching sex. "Please, I can't take the teasing anymore. I'm so fucking wet for you, Caleb. I'm dripping all over your shirt. I need you to touch me." You look up at him with hooded, lust filled eyes, your cheeks flushed a deep, needy red. "Please, Caleb," you breathe out.

Before Caleb can act on your desperate pleas, you suddenly yank the shirt over your head in a desperate motion. Your naked breasts bounce free, the cool air of the room pebbling your hardened nipples. Caleb takes in the sight of your bare flesh, his gaze raking over every inch of exposed skin.

"Fuck, look at you," he growls "Desperate to be touched, to be claimed. Desperate to have my hands all over your body."

He leans down, taking one nipple into his mouth once more, but this time, there's nothing between his lips and your skin. He suckles hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud and at the same time, his hand moves, finally closing the distance between his fingers and your dripping sex. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating from your folds. A low groan rumbles in his chest as he feels how wet you are, your arousal coating his fingers, making them glisten in the low light.

"God, you're fucking soaked," he murmurs against your breast, his fingers teasing along your slit, not penetrating, but close enough that you can feel the promise of what's to come. "Is this all for me? Are you this desperate for my cock every time you touch yourself, imagining it's me fucking this tight little cunt?"

"Yes, it's for you, it's always for you" you moan, spreading your legs wider.

Without warning, he plunges two fingers deep into you. Your walls flutter and squeeze around the sudden intrusion, trying to draw him in deeper. Caleb groans against your breast, the vibrations rumbling through your chest as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of your needy sex.

"Fuck, you're so goddamn tight," Caleb grunts, feeling your walls clench and ripple around his plunging fingers. "I can barely get two fingers inside your pretty cunt."

He starts to thrust faster, his fingers curling to rub against that sensitive spot deep inside you with each pass, his mouth moves from your breast, trailing open mouthed kisses across your collarbone. His tongue, hot and slick, drags up the column of your throat until he reaches the sensitive skin behind your ear. And then Caleb's thumb finds your clit, circling the swollen nub with ruthless precision. The combination of sensations, his fingers pumping into your dripping pussy, his tongue laving your neck, his thumb teasing your clit, has your hips bucking up to meet his touch.

"Caleb," you whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close as you grind yourself against his hand. "Oh god, Caleb..." He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Keep your voice down, beautiful."

He pulls his fingers out from your dripping sex, leaving you whimpering at the sudden emptiness. Before you can protest at the loss, he's settling his broad shoulders between your thighs, his mouth mere inches from your core.

Your body tenses, anticipation and nerves coursing through you as you feel his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. You bite your lip hard, trying to stifle the needy whine building in your throat. He looks up at you, his dark eyes glinting with mischief and a dark promise. "I'm going to make you scream my name, I'm going to make this pretty little pussy come so hard, you'll forget your own name. The only name you'll remember is mine."

With that, he leans in, his tongue parting your folds in one long, slow lick. A moan tears from his throat at the first taste of your arousal, the sound vibrating against your flesh. Your back arches off the bed, your hands fisting in the sheets as pleasure crashes over you.

"Oh fuck, Caleb," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper. Your thighs tremble, the muscles quivering with the effort of staying still, of not closing around his head and grinding your sex against his face. Caleb plunges his fingers deep inside you once more. He curls them just right, rubbing against that sensitive spot that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back in ecstasy. His tongue, hot and slick, laps at your clit, circling and flicking over the swollen nub in a rhythm that has your hips bucking uncontrollably.

Your moans grow louder, more wanton, despite your best efforts to stay quiet. The combination of his fingers pumping in and out of you and his skilled mouth devouring your pussy is unlike anything you've ever experienced. You've touched yourself, imagined this scenario countless times, but the reality of Caleb's touch surpasses even your most vivid fantasies.

Caleb feels your body tensing, your walls fluttering around his fingers as your climax approaches. He doubles his efforts, fingers thrusting deeper, tongue flicking faster, determined to send you hurtling over the edge into blissful oblivion. Your hands fly to your mouth, trying to stifle the scream of rapture that threatens to escape your lips as your orgasm crashes over you.

He doesn't let up, continuing to thrust and lick, drawing out your pleasure until you think you might pass out from sheer ecstasy. The feeling is indescribable, a mind-blowing explosion of sensation that eclipses anything you've ever experienced alone.

Caleb slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean "Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined" He crawls up your body, his eyes dark and hungry as he takes in your flushed skin and heaving chest.

As his face comes into view, you find yourself acting on pure instinct. Leaning up, you capture his lips with your own, pouring all the pent up desire and longing from years of secret admiration into the kiss. Your lips move against his with a fervor that surprises even yourself. He kisses you back, his lips moving against yours with a familiar hunger that sends a jolt of memory through you. The memory of a stolen kiss, years ago, in the dim light of the garage. A kiss that tasted of forbidden fruit, a kiss that you swore never to speak of again. But as your lips move against his, the memory comes rushing back, as vivid and intense as the day it happened. The feel of his lips, the scent of his skin, the way his hands gripped your waist and pulled you closer. It was a moment of teenage passion, a moment that you both knew was wrong but felt so right.

Now, as adults, that kiss takes on a new meaning. It's a promise, a vow, a declaration of intent. Caleb's hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts, kneading the soft flesh as he deepens the kiss. His tongue pushes past your lips, claiming your mouth, exploring every inch of you.

You can feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, hard and insistent. The knowledge that you've reduced him to this state sends a thrill of power and desire coursing through you. You know you should put a stop to this, but you can't. You don't want to. The need to be one with him is overwhelming.

Caleb breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your lips. "Tell me you want this," he demands "Tell me you need me as much as I need you."

"I need you," you breathe out, your voice heavy with desire. Your hands fumble with the hem of his shirt, trying to tug it up and over his muscular chest. Caleb helps you, pulling the shirt off in one swift motion and tossing it aside. Your eyes widen as you take in the sight of his bare torso, the muscles and lean lines. Caleb smirks at your appreciative look "You like what you see, pipsqueak?" he teases, flexing subtly under your touch. "This body is all yours, for the taking. All you have to do is say the word."

He leans down, capturing your lips in another kiss as his hands roam your naked body, caressing every curve. You can feel the heat of his skin, the power in his muscles, and it makes your core clench. He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point.

Caleb grins against your skin at your eager movements, he feels you struggle to remove his pajama pants. "So impatient," he teases, but he helps you anyway, lifting his hips to allow the fabric to slide down his muscular thighs and calves. His cock springs free, long, hard and throbbing, the thick shaft pulsing with his racing heartbeat.

His smile fades as your small hand wraps around his thick cock. He inhales sharply at the contact, his hips jerking slightly. "Fuck, your hand feels so good," he grunts, his voice strained. But then he pushes you back down onto the bed, his large hands gripping your shoulders.

"No, not right now, princess," he says, shaking his head. "Right now, I need to be inside you. I need to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock. I need to make you mine." He settles himself between your thighs. The thick head of his cock nudges against your folds, slipping through the wetness and leaving a trail of your arousal in its wake. Caleb's eyes lock with yours, his gaze intense and full of unspoken promises.

"Tell me you're ready, meimei," he demands, his voice low and rough with desire. "Tell me you need me inside you, stretching you, filling you up. Tell me you want me to fuck you" He doesn't push inside, not yet. He waits for your permission, for your confirmation that this is what you truly want.

"Please, Caleb," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. You reach down, gripping his ass, your nails digging into the firm flesh and you guide him to your entrance, the head of his cock catching on your hole for a moment before you push him forward, urging him inside.

Caleb flips your positions in a swift, smooth motion, leaving you straddling his lap. He grips your hips, his large hands spanning your waist, and lines himself up with your entrance.

"Set the pace, princess," he murmurs, his voice a low, rough rumble. "Take what you need, what you want. Fuck yourself on my cock until you're satisfied."

His eyes are dark and intense as they lock with yours, filled with a mix of desire, love, and something more, something that says he wants to watch you claim him, to take your pleasure from him without holding back.

"Fuck me, meimei," he growls, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. "Show me how much you need it. Show me that this is what you've been dreaming of, what you've been craving. Show me that you're mine, now and forever." He doesn't push up into you, doesn't force you down onto his thick cock. He leaves that power in your hands, trusting you to take what you need, to set the rhythm and the pace. His heart pounds beneath your touch, his chest heaving with each breath.

Caleb inhales sharply as you sink down onto his thick shaft, his eyes fluttering closed at the exquisite sensation of your tight cunt engulfing him. He grips your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he fights the urge to thrust up into you, to bury himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

Halfway down, you pause, a soft gasp escaping your lips. "It's too much," you whimper, your voice tight "I feel so full, Caleb. So incredibly full."

Caleb's eyes snap open, his gaze intense and concerned as he takes in your expression. He can feel your walls fluttering around him, clenching and unclenching as they struggle to adjust to his size. He knows he's stretching you more than you've ever been stretched before, knows that the feeling of fullness is almost overwhelming.

"Shh, it's okay, princess," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "You're doing so well, taking me so deeply. Just breathe, meimei. Breathe through the sensation and let your body adjust."

His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "You feel incredible," he breathes out "Like you were made just for me, like your body was made to take my cock."

He sits up, pulling you flush against his muscular chest. His arm wraps tightly around your waist, holding you close as he starts to guide your movements. He doesn't force you to take him any deeper, respecting your need for adjustment. "Like this, princess," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Nice and easy, just like that. You're doing so well, taking me so beautifully."

He rocks your hips with his, helping you establish a gentle rhythm. The new angle allows you to slide up and down without feeling overwhelmed, the drag of his cock against your sensitive walls sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. Caleb's hand slides up your back, his fingers threading into your hair. He tilts your head to the side, his tongue traces the line of your jugular, feeling the way your pulse jumps and flutters at his touch. "Your body is incredible," he breathes out against your skin, his voice rough with desire. "The way you move on my cock, the way you take me in..." His other hand slides down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit. He starts to rub the sensitive nub in slow, deliberate circles, matching the pace of your hips. The added stimulation makes your walls clench and ripple around him, drawing a low moan from deep in his chest. As you continue to move on his lap, finding your rhythm, you start to take him deeper with each downward thrust. Caleb's breath grows ragged, his quiet moans filling the room as your walls grip him tighter and tighter. The feeling of you enveloping him inch by inch, your pussy engulfing his throbbing cock, is almost more than he can bear.

"Fuck, princess," he grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. "You feel so fucking good. So tight, so perfect around my cock." He starts to meet your thrusts, rolling his hips up to drive himself deeper into your core. The new angle allows him to hit that special spot inside you with each surge of his hips. "Am I hurting you?" he asks, his voice strained with concern and desire. "Tell me if it's too much, tell me if you need me to stop."

But he doesn't stop, can't stop, driven wild by the way your body is consuming him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth finding your pulse point. He bites down, marking you, claiming you, as his hips thrust up into yours, driving himself deeper and harder with each passing second.

"Fuck, I can't..." he pants out, his voice wrecked and raw. "I can't hold back much longer, meimei. You feel too good, too fucking perfect. I need... I need..."

Caleb's eyes flutter open as you still your movements, meeting his gaze. Before he can speak, you capture his lips in a searing kiss, your mouth moving against his with desperate hunger. He kisses you back just as fiercely, his teeth nipping and tugging at your bottom lip.

"I love you," he breathes out against your mouth, the words tumbling from his lips like a sacred vow. "Fuck, y/n, I love you so much. You're mine, all mine." Hearing those three words, feeling the raw emotion make a new wave of emotion crash over you, and you start to move again, taking him to the hilt this time. You sink down onto his cock, your walls clenching and fluttering as you envelop him completely. You roll your hips, rising and falling, as you ride him with wild abandon. Each downward thrust drives him deeper, each upward roll of your hips bringing you back to the brink of ecstasy.

Caleb's hand slides from your hip to your stomach, feeling the way it bulges and stretches around his thick cock. He presses down on it, feeling the shape of himself inside you, the hard length of him pulsing and throbbing against your womb.

The sensation is too much for him. With a quiet moan of your name, he surges up into you, burying himself to the hilt. His cock jerks and twitches as he starts to come, his hot seed spurting deep inside your core.

"Fuck, y/n! Fuck, I'm coming! I'm coming inside you" His fingers dig into your hips, gripping you hard enough to bruise as he holds you down, forcing you to take every last drop of his release. His eyes squeeze shut, his head thrown back, lost in his climax.

The feeling of his hot cum painting your insides, claiming you from the inside out, pushes you over the edge. Your walls clamp down around him as your own orgasm crashes through you.

"Caleb!" you silently cry, not able to hold back anymore" Fuck...Yes, yes, yes!"

Your bodies shake and tremble together. The pleasure is so intense that it borders on pain. You cling to each other, riding out the waves of your releases, lost in the heat and the haze of your passion

Caleb hugs your waist tightly, his strong arms wrapped securely around you. He buries his face between your breasts, his panting breaths hot against your sensitive skin. His face is flushed, a deep rosy hue painting his cheekbones, proof of the intense pleasure and release you've just shared.

"Don't move, princess," he whispers against your skin "Let's stay like this for now. I want to feel you, all of you, wrapped around me."

"Do you feel that meimei?" he asks softly, "The way our hearts are beating together? The way our bodies fit, like two puzzle pieces made to interlock? Don't ever forget this moment," his gaze intense as he stares up at you. "Don't ever forget the way I feel inside you, claiming you, loving you. You're mine now, princess. Truly and completely mine."

Part 1 here

[aleksatia]

❄️Blind date with your ex-husband. You never expected it to be… Zayne.

Inspiration hit me going 100mph down the highway, and I took an unscheduled gas station stop just to write this down. My husband almost divorced me again thinking I’d lost my mind — so in a way, this series is dedicated to him. And to second chances. I know they exist. I’ve lived one. 🥀

An unplanned new series. Five ex-husbands. Same setup, different reactions.

🎨 Rafayel | 🏍 Sylus | ✨Xavier | 🍎 Caleb

CW/TW: Divorce / Post-divorce emotional trauma, Emotional neglect / emotional suppression, Communication breakdown in relationships, References to emotional dissociation, Raised voices / emotionally intense confrontation, Crying / emotional vulnerability, Mention of jealousy & insecurity, Gaslighting-adjacent dynamics (arguably), Implied sexual tension / physical intimacy (consensual, emotional).

Pairing: Zayne x ex-wife!you Genre: Slow-burn, emotional dissection, second chances soaked in silence. Heavy on longing, surgical precision on heartbreak. Lovers to strangers to… Summary: Zayne doesn't do chaos. He does control, routine, distance. But when fate traps you both in a curated room labeled “One Hour of Honest Connection,” the silence breaks first. What follows is memory, ache, and the terrifying weight of things never said. Word Count: 3.3K

The room was small. Too small for this.

Soft jazz filtered through hidden speakers. There were two cups of something herbal already on the table, a plate of small, intentionally complicated desserts arranged like the nervous offering of a Parisian intern. The walls were a muted sage green, the lighting gentle. It would’ve been cozy, if it weren’t for the glaring fact that Zayne was sitting across from you.

You blinked once. Then again.

"No," you said flatly.

Zayne, ever efficient, didn’t even look up from the glass of water he was examining.

"Statistically," he said, voice calm, "there was a 0.2% chance of this exact pairing."

You stared at him. "So what I’m hearing is: we’re still just that unlucky."

He looked up then. God, those eyes. Calculated glacier. "Technically, yes."

The silence that followed was not companionable.

You hadn’t seen him in eleven months. Not since the divorce. Not since you stood in that shared apartment and told him — voice shaking, fingers cold — that you couldn’t keep guessing if you were real to him.

He hadn’t fought you.

He’d just stood there, like someone who'd miscalculated a formula and refused to recheck it.

You waited for something — anything. He stayed silent.

He stayed silent even when you sent the divorce papers. Even when it was over in a small judge’s office, quiet and procedural. He brought flowers — jasmine — and you still don’t know if they were a symbol of freedom or a plea.

 He never explained.

Just spoke in clipped, efficient phrases, like he’d already erased you from his life.

And now — now you were locked in a curated hell that probably had its own photo filter. A little brass plaque on the inside of the door read: One Hour of Honest Connection.

You almost laughed. Almost.

Zayne adjusted his cuffs. You noticed — god help you — that he still wore the watch you gave him. The one with the engraving inside: Every time your pulse stutters, it’s me.

Of course he still wore it. The man remembered to reorder that book you never finished—left it on your doorstep in silent punctuation.

"This wasn’t deliberate," you said finally.

"Agreed."

You folded your arms. "So. Let’s make this painless. We wait the hour, we don’t talk about feelings, and we pretend your emotional negligence wasn’t the reason we’re now two sad statistics sipping herbal disappointment."

Zayne raised an eyebrow. "Technically, the tea is chamomile, which is known for its calming properties. And you’re the one who said ‘emotional negligence.’"

"God, you’re still exhausting."

He didn’t flinch. Of course not. That would imply a physiological reaction. "So I’ve been told."

You stared at him for a beat. The weight of old familiarity draped the room like a too-heavy coat. He hadn’t changed. Not in the obvious ways. Still buttoned-down, still precise, still that undercurrent of something almost tender that never made it to the surface.

"Why are you even here?" you asked suddenly. "Blind dates don’t strike me as your thing. Too much room for inefficiency."

He tilted his head. “The nursing staff submitted my name. Some kind of team-building initiative.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. They were hoping to end up across the table themselves?”

Zayne didn’t blink. “Several of them expressed interest.”

You snorted, sharper than you meant to. “Charming.”

He nodded, like you were discussing post-op recovery times. “I considered opting out. But I didn’t.”

That surprised you. Enough to glance at him fully, meet his eyes, where something flickered — not regret, exactly. But its distant cousin. The one who shows up late to funerals.

“Why not?”

He took a sip of tea. “I wanted to see what I’d do.”

You hated how that hit. How much you wanted to ask: How many phone numbers did you collect before you landed here?

But you didn’t.

The desserts between you remained untouched. Tiny works of art. Sugar sculptures that mocked you with their curated whimsy.

"You look good," he said abruptly.

You blinked. "Don’t do that."

"Do what?"

"Say things that sound human. It throws me off."

He smiled, the faint curve of it almost imperceptible. “Noted.”

Your eyes caught on his mouth — just for a second. A breath too long. You looked away before he could notice.

There was another pause, but it hung differently now — heavier, colored with things you hadn’t said when you should have, and things he never said at all.

"Did you ever—" you started, then stopped.

Zayne watched you. Waiting. He was always good at that. Waiting until your own words betrayed you.

"Forget it," you muttered.

"No," he said quietly. "Say it."

You hated him a little for that. For still knowing when to press.

"Did you ever think," you asked, voice low, "that maybe love isn’t a hypothesis you prove with consistency? That maybe I just needed you to be… messy? With me?"

Zayne didn’t answer right away. And for once, you let the silence stay. Let it stretch and breathe.

When he finally spoke, it was almost a whisper. "Yes. I thought it too late."

You closed your eyes.

Jazz played on. Somewhere outside, people were falling in love the loud way — the all-in kind. Dramatic. Full of color.

Here, in this perfect little room, you and Zayne sat across from one another like ruins politely dressed for tea.

The hour hadn’t even started ticking down.

He was watching you now. Not intensely — not obviously. But directly. The kind of look that felt like it was being filed away for later analysis.

You met it. 

Zayne looked away first. Not because it hurt — but because there’s only so long you can hold tension before it cuts.

He looked down at the desserts. Picked up a fork. Cut into something with a caramel shard on top and didn’t eat it.

You watched him with a frustration so familiar it almost felt nostalgic.

“You always do that,” you said.

“Do what?”

“Control the atmosphere. One calculated silence and the room bends around you.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Then: “I thought that was preferable to chaos.”

You scoffed. “Of course you did.”

The clock on the wall, tastefully small, ticked once. You imagined someone — a curator of curated intimacy — had set it to be just barely audible.

Zayne glanced toward it.

“Forty-three minutes,” he murmured.

You laughed — dry. “You going to count them all?”

His eyes flicked back to you. “Only the inefficient ones.”

That shut you up.

You stared at your tea. Cold now. Obviously.

He watched you again. Observed you, like you were an interface needing diagnostics.

You looked away — deliberately, before his gaze could finish its quiet dissection. But your eyes caught the slight fold in his cuff, the slow press of thumb to palm as he adjusted the line of his wrist.

Surgical. Precise. Familiar.

A phantom shiver traced down your spine.

You remembered that hand on the small of your back in the hospital hallway once, the only contact he allowed himself after a seventeen-hour surgery. He never let his voice break protocol. But that one touch — the pressure, the warmth, the steadiness — had left you trembling.

You cleared your throat.

“Do you regret it?” you asked.

“This date?” he said, because of course he would miss the point.

You glared. “The way you loved me.”

Zayne’s expression didn’t shift. But you saw the pause in his breath. A calibration flicker.

“I loved you thoroughly,” he said. And the word thoroughly struck like a steel scalpel. Accurate. Clinical. Missing the pulse entirely.

You stood. “You loved me like I was a pet project. Like a very intelligent houseplant. Watered. Supported. Monitored.”

“I kept you safe.”

“I didn’t want to be safe!”

It came out sharper than you meant, and echoed too loudly in the boutique silence of the room. You saw the smallest movement — the tightening in his jaw, the shift of his heel, like a man correcting for turbulence.

He stood slowly. Adjusted a cuff. Again.

Still useless. Still beautiful.

“You think I was cold. Detached.”

You laughed once. Bitter. “You treated me like a system. Like something that shouldn’t break. Not someone who might cry. Or scream. Or—” your voice wavered, “—or leave.”

He stepped forward, eyes flickering over you.

“You did leave.”

“And you let me.”

“I didn’t stop you.”

“You didn’t even ask why.”

Your voice shook now — not from weakness, but from the fury of being unseen.

���You just stood there like it was a cancelled meeting, not a fucking life falling apart.”

His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

“What was I supposed to do?” he asked eventually, quietly.

“Fight,” you snapped. “God, anything. Say my name. Say stay. Say something other than 'okay.'”

The clock ticked again.

He hesitated. Just for a second.

“You once said I made you invisible,” he murmured, like he wasn’t even speaking to you, but to the ghost of that moment.

Your breath caught — and snapped.

“Because you did,” you said, sharper than you meant. “You watched me like a case study. Like I was data.”

Your voice broke.

“You weren’t seeing me, Zayne. You were cataloguing me.”

He flinched. A fraction. Barely there — but you caught it. And hated that it still made you ache.

His hands clenched slightly. Just barely.

“If I’d touched more, you would’ve called it possessive. If I’d spoken more, you would’ve said it was performative. I calibrated.”

“You calibrated me,” you said. “Like I was a machine you didn’t want overheating.”

He said nothing.

You stepped closer. Too close.

“You loved me like a robot,” you whispered. “And I wasn’t built for that.”

Silence. Then, very softly:

“I didn’t know how to love any other way.”

His voice dropped like a stone in water. And you swore — for a second — the lights flickered.

Zayne took another step. A fraction. Enough.

“You think I didn’t feel?” he asked, voice low. “You were the variable I couldn’t isolate. The part of the equation that never balanced. You made everything uncertain.”

And there it was again — that glint in his voice. That barely-there tremble. A fault line under a glass surface.

Your eyes flicked to his collar. The soft pull of fabric around his throat. The line of his jaw, the neat cut of his hair. The way one lock always fell forward when he was tired or tense.

It was falling now.

“You used to look at me like I was a test you were trying to pass,” you murmured.

“I was trying not to fail,” he said.

You hated how your pulse jumped.

He lifted a hand. Just slightly. Just enough to suggest contact. His fingers hovered — millimeters away from your skin — but didn’t touch.

A beat.

His voice came quieter this time — lower, rougher at the edges, like the words didn’t want to come out but had nowhere else to go.

“Another wrong calculation.”

Not bitter. Not even angry. Just… tired. And devastatingly honest.

And something in you — snapped.

Not because he said it. But because he meant it. Because he stood there, wanting you, needing you, practically reaching — and still treated it like an equation gone wrong.

You felt your breath hitch. Your fists clench.

Because you saw it in his eyes — the ache, the hesitation. The damn pulse in his throat that jumped when your gaze dropped to his lips.

He wanted this.

You.

But he wouldn’t let himself have it.

And you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You didn’t,” you said, sharp. “You don’t. You want me close enough to feel it but never close enough to believe it.”

He looked at you — not coldly. Worse. Calmly. As if this pain had already been processed and shelved.

And that was it.

“You never said it,” you shouted. “Not once! You never said you loved me!”

That stopped him. Not like a slap. Like a flatline.

For the first time in the whole goddamn hour, his expression broke.

He blinked — slow, stunned — as if you’d just said something so grotesque he couldn’t compute it.

“You think I didn’t?” he asked, voice low.

Not soft. Not calm. Low — like thunder before it hits.

He stepped closer, but not rushed. Controlled. Always controlled.

“You think because I didn’t say the exact phrase you wanted, I didn’t feel it?”

His jaw was tight now. Breath shallow.

“You think all of that—” his hand flicked between you, the table, everything, “—meant nothing because it wasn’t loud enough for you?”

And then — his voice rose.

Not yelling. Lifting. Cracking through him, like pressure that finally split the seal.

“I LOVE YOU!”

It echoed. Echoed in that perfect little room like an alarm someone forgot to disable.

“I love you,” he repeated, lower this time. “I love you like a man who doesn’t know how to breathe around you, but will die trying to stay still just to keep you from leaving again.”

Your chest rose and fell like panic. Like longing. Like something ancient reawakened.

“Then why,” you spat, “why would you agree to a date with some other woman?!”

He stilled.

Then — movement. Swift. Sharp. Controlled chaos.

He closed the remaining distance in three steps.

His hand caught your chin — firm but not rough — guiding your face up until his eyes locked with yours, precise, invasive, burning.

“Are you jealous, princess?”

His voice was velvet and wire — both caress and warning.

And it hit you.

Not just the word. Not just the sound of it. But everything that came before it.

The I love you. The I stayed still so you wouldn’t run. The eyes. The ache. The damn way he looked at you like he still knew every nerve ending and wanted to press all of them at once.

And suddenly you weren’t standing. Not really. Your knees tried. But the rest of you was already melting.

Heat flashed through your spine like a pulled thread. Your breath caught — and stayed. Every part of your body was too much and not enough at once.

You hated him for that. And you hated that you wanted more.

Your pulse roared in your ears. There was a throb where there should have been reason.

And still — somehow — your mouth moved:

“Jealousy’s not the word. Try ‘haunted.’”

A breath passed. And he smiled. Just a little. Just enough.

“You left,” he said, voice low and clear. “Don’t forget that.”

You opened your mouth, but he didn’t let you speak.

“Because I wasn’t enough,” he added. “Because I didn’t perform grief the right way. Or love. Or need.”

He stepped back half a pace, and the space between you hurt like an incision.

“You think I didn’t feel it?” His voice stayed calm, but you heard the crack forming in its base. “You think because I didn’t break dishes or sob in the shower that it didn’t gut me?”

He looked straight at you now. No veil. No control.

“You have no idea what it’s like to live in a body that won’t let the feelings out,” he said. “To drown in it. Quietly. Until you forget where the surface is.”

You stood frozen. Not because you didn’t want to move. But because guilt was a weight, and it was finally settling on your shoulders.

“I’m not built for displays,” he continued. “But that never meant I didn’t love you. I just showed it differently.”

He exhaled. Soft. Controlled.

“I don’t scream ‘I love you.’ I leave umbrellas in your bag on rainy days. I keep your favorite candy in your glove compartment. I flip your pillow to the cool side when you fall asleep. I listen when you hum a song twice and add it to your playlist without a word.”

A pause.

“I wasn’t dramatic. I was constant.”

His voice faltered just slightly now.

“And if that wasn’t enough for you — if you needed fireworks — I’m sorry. But I can’t become someone else to prove what’s already true.”

He took one more step back.

“Because if one day you look at me and see a man pretending to be something you want — someone louder, brighter, messier — you’ll stop respecting me. And I swear to God, that’s the one thing I wouldn’t survive.”

Your breath caught.

Your hand moved without permission, reaching for his. Taking it. Holding it with both of yours.

You lifted it gently, pressed your lips to the inside of his fingers — those surgeon’s hands. Steady. Deadly. Gentle.

“I didn’t know,” you whispered. “I didn’t see. I was so busy spiraling through my own mess, I thought… I thought your silence meant absence.”

Tears welled up.

“I didn’t leave to punish you. I just— I lost my wings somewhere along the way. In the quiet. In the waiting. I was jealous of your work. Of your focus. Of how the world looked at you with admiration and looked at me like… like a placeholder.”

Your voice cracked.

“Every dinner alone. Every party I walked into like I was still half-married to a man who’d rather be in an OR. I thought you didn’t love me.”

Zayne’s jaw tightened. His eyes — bright, focused, unreadable — didn’t move from yours.

And then, softly:

“You’re right. I didn’t love you the way you needed me to. I never knew how to make you feel chosen.”

He paused. Just long enough for the words to break skin.

“But you were. Every day. Every time.”

Another breath. Shallower this time.

“And if I had to do it again — knowing you’d leave—”

His voice barely made it past his throat.

“I’d still choose you.”

A beat.

“Because you are the point.”

And before you could react — he moved.

He pulled you close, lifted you effortlessly onto the edge of the table. The desserts clinked, wobbling on their plates. His hands cupped your face — thumbs firm against your jaw, fingers threading through your hair.

And then — he kissed you.

Not cautiously. Not politely.

He kissed you like a man who had written restraint into every breath for too long, and finally, finally, had been told he could break character.

His mouth crushed yours with a precision that stole air and reason. One hand on your hip, anchoring you. The other behind your neck, fingers fanned through your hair, tilting your head exactly how he needed.

You gasped into him, and he didn’t pause — just deepened the kiss, molding his lips to yours like he was tracing every remembered contour.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to breathe, but didn’t move far. His forehead touched yours. His breath was warm. Steady.

God, he always kissed like he was solving you. And part of you — shamefully — wanted to stay unsolved.

You opened your eyes, just barely, and met his. Focused. Hungry. Lit with a kind of reverence that made your stomach flip.

That’s when you moved.

You reached down blindly — fingers finding the soft swirl of whipped cream on one of the desserts. You dipped into it, then slowly dragged your finger along the edge of his jaw.

He didn’t flinch.

Your finger slid over his bottom lip, and when he parted them, you leaned in, tongue flicking the taste away, then trailing up his cheekbone. Slow. Almost cruel.

Zayne exhaled harshly — the closest he came to a groan — and gripped the table edge behind you like he needed grounding.

Your bodies pressed tighter.

He kissed your collarbone, your neck, his breath hot. Fingers sliding under the hem of your skirt, just barely.

Another kiss. And another.

You felt like the room spun sideways. Like you were going to—

Ding.

A soft chime.The door clicked.

Time’s up.

He stilled. You did too.

No one spoke. Breathing was enough.

Zayne lifted a hand and dragged his knuckles along your cheek. Tender. Achingly so.

He pressed his lips to your forehead.

And then — just like that — he stepped back.

You blinked, dazed. Dizzy. Waiting for him to say something.

But he didn’t. He turned, walked to the door, opened it — and left.

Just like that.

You slid off the table slowly, knees hitting the floor before your mind registered the impact.

What the hell. What the actual—

Your phone buzzed.

A message. From him.

“Emergency consult. Patient flatlined. Possibly me. Will advise.” 

[muqingslover]

hiii, can you please share more goofy habits caleb has while sharing a bed with u 💝

[ By popular demand i'm here to share extra thoughts on Caleb's sleeping habits! Kinda of a part two to this, in case you missed! ]

Oh boy there's so much to unpack here. We all know Caleb has experienced a loooot of bad things and has not worked through them in an actual healthy way at all. He is also a master at hiding it from you, but you can get a glimpse of how damaged he truly is during bedtime.

First of all, you will rarely, if ever, catch him sleeping on an actual bed. Or sleeping at all to be honest. What Caleb does is take power naps whenever he can on his couch at the office or when he's at your place waiting for you to. The one to (partially) blame for this is his chronic insomnia. I like to believe Caleb has always been a very light sleeper and it's only gotten worse throughout the years— The sound of a door opening is enough for him to be wide wake in a matter of seconds. Trust issues anyone?

When he wakes up, if alone, his go-to activity is working out. He'll do push-ups or leave the house for a loooong late night jog, anything that will tire his body out since he's wired up. Then, he takes a freezing cold shower to reboot his system and either starts to work early or sits down to solve some calculus problems to prevent his mind from thinking about anything else since it's 98% of the time never anything good.

To add to that, the main reason as to why his insomnia is so bad is the fact he has nightmares on an almost daily basis. They're often about you in some way and he wakes up panicking about where you are, how you are, if you're with someone else, why you aren't here with him instead and if you plan on leaving him. That's why it's so crucial for Caleb that you stay somewhere he can see you whenever he needs to. Otherwise, his anxiety will gnaw at him until he just shows up unprompted on your front door in the middle of the night.

On the topic of nightmares, next thing on the list is a more...sensitive one: His reactions to nightmares that involves the abuse Caleb himself went through. I say sensitive because this man is a trained soldier and he wakes up in very high alert which, sometimes, means he might hurt you by pure reflex similar to retired war veterans.

The first time you woke up with his hands tightly wrapped around your neck you seriously thought you were a goner. The sound of your voice calling his name was fortunately enough to make him snap out of the haze he was trapped in, believing he was under the threat of the ghosts of his past and had to defend himself before it was him the one who would end up dead. You have always been his anchor, it was not a surprise that you were the only one able to pull him back even in a moment like this.

Regardless if he had been in control or not, Caleb would blame himself until his last day on this world. He wouldn't sleep (Key word being sleep because he will stay in bed with you, he just won't *sleep*) on the same bed as you anymore after this and instead spends his nights on a mattress on the floor next to you. The sight of your bruised neck and the tears in your eyes because of his hands, because of him, only serve as fuel for his nightmares. He doesn't even want to imagine what would've happened if you hadn't been able to speak loudly enough to wake him up.

"Caleb is a big spoon!!" people yell at me and I agree! However! If you want this man to have some peaceful sleep then the only way to achieve that is to have him laying on your chest where he can both listen to your steady heartbeat and feel your warmth as he holds you. Run your fingers through his hair and promise him you'll be right there when he wakes up to soothe his anxieties as much as possible and he might just sleep throughout the entire night.

Moving on to more sweet thoughts so we don't end on a bitter note— He has serious beef with the plushies you own, specifically the ones you hug to sleep. I mean, he's right here? Hello??? Why would you want to hug that fat ass bear of yours. If your plushie goes missing one day through suspicious means don't be sad because you can just cuddle him! He promises he'll behave this time!

Another silly thing is Caleb cannot keep his hands to himself when the two of you are sharing a bed. Literally. His hands have a will of their own and they must be touching you at all times in some way. That also means he will bother you by torturing tickling you non-stop until you're on the verge of tears. He loves the sound of your joyful laughter and how red your face gets while you try to escape the evil tickle monster so I'm afraid there's no way to get him to actually stop.

[starmocha]

Push & Pull [Caleb/Reader ★ 1939 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] What a bore, he thought, no longer amused by tonight’s show. A/N: To be fair…this was started at the same time as Pillow Talk. idk what I’m defending myself from I’ve done worse alkaal;akla Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @rose-tinted-kalopsia @valkyyriia @natimiles @yourlocalcatscammer 【 request to be added 】

He was just a tease.

But you liked it.

You liked the way Caleb didn’t make the first move, the way he always seemed to smile knowingly, already aware of what was going through your mind. He would calmly observe you, a smirk here, a chuckle there, whenever it seemed you wanted to make him jealous.

Tonight was no different. You were feeling particularly bratty, wanting to provoke him a little for your own amusement. He didn’t say anything when you had left his side, already strutting your way through the crowd, capturing the intrigue of the wolves in this den, their eyes gleaming from the lascivious thoughts running rampantly in their minds as they traversed down your body.

In the crowded bar, Caleb sat in a corner booth, leg crossed over the other as he enjoyed his drink and the entertainment you provided. He chuckled, feeling a twinge of pride, knowing that everything of yours belonged to him.

Glass to his lips, he took a slow sip, darkened eyes watching your every move from across the room.

Such a pretty little thing, so strong and alluring, you were the object of many male gazes, a figment in all of their perverted fantasies, but, oh, what a shame that your own eyes were only on Caleb truly. He watched you entertained the flirtatious advances, smiling and giggling, dumbed down for their pathetic sake, their pride too fragile to truly experience the kind of woman you could be in the bedroom. None of these swine could match his caliber. At this point, it seemed more insulting to you than him.

What a bore, he thought, no longer amused by tonight’s show.

Caleb set his glass back down on the table and stood up, crossing the room in slow strides with his long legs. He always did know when you would try to make him jealous, and tonight was just one of those nights. However, it never worked—not even once—because you would always come back to him, just like how he would always find his way to you.

He exuded an aura of dominance, a silent command to yield to him. One cold stare had dispersed the crowd of boys around you, and soon, you felt that familiar presence lingering behind, him knelt down lower, his lips from your ear, a faint growl in his normally gentle voice with you:

“My room—now.”

In a dark hotel room overlooking Linkon, the floor-to-ceiling windows allowed the city lights to illuminate the space, enough so that after you had pushed him onto the bed, he lounged casually and watched as you stripped out of your little black dress for him.

You wondered if he was always this good at masking his expressions, because even with the minimal lights in the room, you couldn’t truly discern his look. You reached behind your back and unclipped your black lacy bra, letting it fall to reveal your breasts to him. He tilted his head a little, appearing more amused than aroused, almost as if he was simply studying you for a figure drawing class than appreciating you as a work of art crafted by God Himself.

You huffed a little in annoyance, still determined to get a rise out of him.

You climbed into bed with him, crawling closer until you were settled in between his legs, peering up at him with the same naughty smile you wore all night long. His hands instantly grabbed your face, his lips upon yours as he kissed with the intensity and intention of bruising you enough to leave his mark, a reminder that you were always his. It didn’t take much before he had you immediately flipped on your back, trapped beneath his heavy body, your legs already parting to allow him access.

He smirked. It was, after all, so sweet how you were always ready for him, always desiring him when you could have any man you wanted. You stared up into his familiar violet eyes, your chest heaving, breathing heavier as your body was trembling with anticipation. He knelt above you, his hand grabbing at his tie, loosening them as it was his turn to provide you a show.

With every article of clothing he took off, revealing more and more of him to you, you could feel a growing ache as you imagined those large hands grabbing at your buttocks, his toned chest pressed against your body, and his warm mouth taking your nipple to suckle and tease until they hardened, until he had you squirming underneath him, legs trembling, your cunt dripping obscenely for him.

“Caleb…”

“I know,” he murmured, as he tossed the last item of clothing on the hotel floor. He reached out and grabbed at the waistband of the panties you still wore. He hummed low, his arousal visible, once he took in the sight of the soaked panties. “Already this wet…fuck…”

His lips were on yours again, and you both fumbled in the dark, hands exploring one another, your moans and his heating up the room.

“You make such pretty sounds,” he murmured, “I want to hear more…”

You felt his calloused hand rubbed circles on your thigh, and then—

Smack!

A piercing slap resounded, the sting had you crying, squealing in surprise, but also aroused by his dominance. Caleb chuckled, seeing that delighted look in your eyes. He slapped you again, harder, the noises you were making a blend of pain and pleasure.

“Did you enjoy prancing yourself around those men tonight?” he asked calmly, his voice neutral, showing no sign of annoyance or anger. He seemed almost genuinely curious. He slapped harder, the sting lingering far longer than the previous instances. Almost immediately, he rubbed the same spot he had struck in soothing circles, and he murmured lazily, “Answer me.”

“…No,” you admitted, panting softly as you gazed up into his eyes. There were tears in the corner of your own eyes, a natural reaction to feeling the sharp pain.

“No?” he questioned, almost mockingly. He reached up and brushed those tears aside, his lips kissed your temple. “But it was your idea to act like a slut tonight.”

You whined at him, “Caleb…”

He immediately chuckled and apologized. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, “You don’t like being called a slut, do you?”

You remained silent, eyes darting to the side in avoidance. His hand grasped your chin, making you keep your sight on him. He continued in that same soft and even tone, “Or rather, you only like being my slut?”

You inhaled sharply, and Caleb laughed, your quick natural response answering his question more honestly than words ever could. He kissed you again, settling more comfortable in between your legs. You gasped when you felt his hard, thick cock pressing against your slick entrance. You trembled, breathing shuddering as he eased himself in, his low groans answering your own cries.

Caleb panted softly, smiling, and spoken almost matter-of-factly, “You’ll always be my slut.”

He started shallowly thrusting in and out, feeling your walls stretching to accommodate him. He continued in that same easy tone, “You can take as many cocks from as many men, but you’ll always want me instead.”

“Ca-Caleb…!”

You were whining, gasping and moaning, your body responding to the pleasure of feeling him penetrating you again and again in this same, leisure rhythm as he took his time, relishing in the lewd expressions you wore only for him.

“How many men has this pussy taken?” he asked, his lips on yours once more, swallowing those heavenly moans.

“I guess I really don’t fucking care,” he admitted, “Because you will always be mine. Isn’t that right, pipsqueak?”

You were trembling, tears in your eyes, too overstimulated by him and his words to truly grasp what he was saying.

“Answer me,” he demanded, thrusting in harder, your arms now wrapped around his neck. His own arms wrapped around you, lifting you from the bed as your legs locked around his waist. His pace grew more brutal, no longer slow and leisurely. He panted heavily, his voice lower than before, as he demanded again, “Answer me. You will always be mine, right?”

You whimpered into his shoulder, crying and agreeing without thinking, “Yes! I’m yours, Caleb! Always yours!”

One hand rested on the back of your head, pressing you closer to his shoulder. He smiled faintly. “Good girl,” he whispered, “My good girl. My pretty little slut. All mine.”

You squealed as wordlessly, Caleb took you harder, fucking you so intensely, you could feel your climax fast approaching with every deep, hard thrust. You panted, sharp nails digging into his back, his immediate groans had you clenching around him, squeezing him until you both were crashing, falling deeper and deeper into this state of euphoria together.

Your back hit the mattress again, and Caleb’s body collapsed on yours, his weight keeping you trapped underneath. You reached forward, your hand brushing against his damped bangs that clung to his forehead. He looked down at you, curious, almost as if he was waiting for your next move. You smiled and leaned up, kissing him where you had just touched.

He smiled back, his expression warmer than before, feeling very familiar, a memory of a time so far in the past now. You sometimes wished you could see this same smile again more often, and perhaps, maybe over time, you both could return to that period of innocence. It didn’t seem like an impossible dream, you thought, your fingers still lightly stroking his temple.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Caleb murmured, breaking you out of your trance. He grabbed at your restless hand, little kisses pressed against your fingers as he peered up again into your eyes, as if he was waiting still, silently calculating.

You wondered what he was thinking, what was hidden behind those eyes for so long. You remembered when they shined like brilliant amethyst, but now it seemed a dark cloud had overcast.

“I’ll be back,” he whispered, kissing your cheek before he had gotten up.

You lazed in bed, tired but immensely satisfied, still feeling the lingering warmth of his body heat against yours. You struggled to keep your eyes open, feeling a heavy exhaustion wracking your entire body.

It wouldn’t hurt to nod off for just a few seconds, you thought.

Perhaps you might have rested for far too longer, because now, you suddenly found yourself feeling weightless. Once you had opened your eyes, you realized the reason for the change. Cradled in Caleb’s arms, he carried you to the bathroom.

“Can you walk?” he asked, peering down after he had noticed you stirring.

You immediately shook your head, the faint gleam of mischievousness twinkled in your eye.

“Still a brat?” he asked, and you pouted, just a bit upset that he had caught on so quickly to your treachery. He sighed in mock-exasperation. “Alright, alright.”

The warm bath he had drawn felt heavenly on tired muscles. Completely spent and satisfied, Caleb kept you cradled in between his long legs as you both relaxed in the water, because this was how it always was. He would always take care of you. It was just in his nature, a natural instinct he could never ignore.

The water rippled when he moved, his head bent to kiss along the nape of your neck. His murmur was so soft and warm, a contrast to his earlier cold teasing. Your guard lowered, you relaxed against him, his arm wrapping around your waist as he gazed down at you, a satisfied smile graced his lips.

My pipsqueak. Mine.

[salemrph]

"Let the World Burn"

Chapter 1: A not so well planned night

Navigator: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | AO3

Summary: A night of celebration ends in chaos—you vanish without a trace. The ransom demand arrives, but Sylus knows this isn’t just about money. What should’ve been a simple rescue mission unearths secrets far more sinister than anyone ever imagined.

Character: Sylus x MC; Luke and Kieran, Caleb, Zayne

Genre/Warning: descriptions of violence and blood, hurt/comfort, injuries, grief, romantic, drama, action, slight sexual content, angst

Word count: 8,135 | Reading Time: 32 min | AO3

taglist: @voidsylus @thechaoticarchivist @syluscrows @likewhyareyousoobsessedwithme

Chapter 1: A not so well planned night

The burning building groans under the weight of its own collapse, crumbling piece by piece. The flames rage uncontrollably, swallowing the entire complex, leaving nothing but charred ruins. In the heart of the main part of the wearhouse, the scene is a nightmare. The floor is slick with blood, bodies scattered in unnatural poses, bullet casings gleaming like twisted confetti in the dim light. The air reeks of gunpowder and death. This was no battlefield—this was a massacre.

Under the eerie glow of the red moon, such a sight might seem familiar. But tonight, something is wrong. This wasn't supposed to be the end. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Not after everything. 

Gunfire echoes, sharp and relentless. The screams of the fallen mingle with the guttural roars of the Wanderers, their twisted forms wreaking havoc as they tear through what remains. It’s a cacophony of violence, a hellish symphony that cuts through the night. And through the madness, there he is—the man in the suit. The one who has conquered with nothing more than his calm demeanor and his cold, calculating presence. The one they all feared. But now, as he stands in the wreckage, there is no cool detachment. There is no indifferent strategist. His expression is tight, his jaw set with a fury that has never before surfaced. His usual composure has shattered like glass, replaced with darker, dangerous rage. His right eye, glowing like a dying star, reflects the turmoil inside him. It burns with the kind of intensity that could scorch the very earth beneath him.

In his arms, the body of a woman, limp and lifeless, hangs like dead weight. Her blood stains his clothes, seeping into the fabric, marking him with a reminder of the choices he’s made, the consequences of those choices. The plan was never supposed to unfold this way. This was not the outcome he had imagined. The walls of the building continue to groan, buckling under the weight of the flames, the weight of everything collapsing. It had been a trap. Of course, it had been. But he had no choice. The risk was necessary.

And now he has paid the price.

Few days before

Gradually, routine returns to your life. The festivities are over, the beginning of the year has been wonderful. Going to the New Year's market with Sylus has been a good way to see how your relationship has changed. The feelings you have for him have been consolidated. You accept them and welcome them, letting the beautiful and sparks fill your chest with warmth, tenderness and love. 

As you made the lanterns together you remembered every adventure you've shared with him. The search for the lost gem, being sucked into a protocore to a far away place. The trip to the mountains or to the lost oasis. You smile in a daze. You've spent so much time with Sylus, that returning home alone is strange. Lying on the bed, you remember how he struggled to shower at your place. Making a mess in the bathroom. That was just the first step to letting him into your territory, not only speaking about your apartament. Your holy sanctuary. That night of secrecies. You couldn't let him go, that night your whole body and mind wanted to make him stay. You sigh as you remember his lips, the heat between you two, the melting feeling to become one. You hug the big crow plush laying next to you on the bed, it smells like him. So comforting. Now, without him around, you’re deeply sure that being with him makes your life funnier, kind of dangerous but strangely full of new emotion. 

However, not everything is honey-coated and perfect. Your face changes, your stomach hurts, and you lay on your side as you remember your mission in Skyhaven. Caleb. You want to throw up. He lied to you, in the cruelest way possible.

Although you wish with all your heart that Caleb had his good reasons, something doesn't add up. The explosion definitely happened. The Fleet and everything around it is a black box. A void, like Caleb. He came back so different… You haven't talked about it at all. He must have a reason to hide things from you, locking you up in his apartment. That wasn’t nearly how you had him in memory. Worst of all, you can't just go to Zayne and tell him: “Oh by the way Caleb isn't dead”. You can already picture his face, not sure if he should prescribe you pills or send you to psychiatry. Making maybe at the beginning a dry joke or something. Zayne would pinch his nose before removing his glasses. Trying to figure out if you’re really serious about it or you haven't fully accepted Caleb's death. Either way, if Zayne believed you, his reaction would be just as stoic as ever. What you can't know is that beneath that icy, overly professional manner of dealing with you, he feels a deep affection for you. Ever since you met. That affection would make him get into a big fight with Caleb. 

Oh, and how about explaining this to Sylus? He would believe you right away but at the same time, he would be probably looking for a way to make Caleb pay for his action. If those two ever met, it could be the end of the world. Seeing how Caleb is now and how overprotective he is with you. He would probably not like it one bit that you're dating the most wanted man in the galaxy. And thinking about how much Sylus doesn't like people messing with you…and how he usually treats his enemies. Very bad idea, very, very bad idea. Honestly speaking that would be a fight to see who has the biggest cock. The Farspace Fleet's Colonel vs Onychinus's Leader. Place your bets on who will be the last one standing. 

You are tense, tired and helpless. The whole thing just gives you a headache. Caleb has texted you a few times after New Year. He showed up a few times but it was still weird. That's it. You sit up on the bed, you look out of the window, it’s raining. Somehow he always brings a storm into your life. It doesn't matter if he comes back or if he is leaving. You truly wish you could trust him, like you used to. A tear rolls down your cheek. You breathe in deeply, trying to hold back all the emotions. 

A notification pops up on your phone. You wipe the tears from your face. 

“How are you doing? We haven't seen each for a while” You smile at Tara’s message, quickly typing a reply.

“Good, just trying to survive this weather. Feels like it’s been forever since we last spoke. You back from your family’s place yet?”

She responds almost immediately.

“Yeah! Just got back yesterday. It was nice, but chaotic as always. What about you?”

You hesitate for a moment before replying.

“Nothing too special these days”

Tara, of course, sees right through you.

“Nothing? Girl, that answer is screaming ‘I’m hiding something.’ Spill."

You roll your eyes, but your fingers hover over the keyboard. You could tell her about Sylus—about how you ended up together, the teasing, the tension, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. But you feel like it isn't the moment. 

"There’s nothing to spill 🥱"

“Mhm. Sure. You definitely didn’t spend time with someone who makes you all flustered and stupidly heart-eyed♥."

You: "I don’t get flustered😖"

Tara: So you were with him!!! 

You groan, rolling onto your stomach and burying your face in your pillow before typing back.

You: "That’s not what I said."

Tara: "You didn’t deny it either."

She’s relentless. You can practically hear the smugness through the screen.

Tara: "Oh, pleaaase. You are so gone for him. It’s painful to watch. Let's have fun this Friday, and share the tea with me. Girls Night!😘 

A distraction. That’s what you needed. Something to pull you out of your own head, away from the tangled thoughts of Caleb and the mess that had been occupying too much space lately. Maybe just enjoying the fact that Tara is back, you have Sylus and work isn’t too stressful since your mission in Skyhaven. 

You exhale tiredly, relaxing your body a little and you type back a quick "Fine, fine. Girls’ night it is." 

You toss your phone aside. If you keep this up, your thoughts will consume you. You need to rest, relax and disconnect, even if it's just for one night. You know full well that if it becomes too much, you can always return to the base. Lose yourself in assembling and disassembling illegal weapons, listen to the stories behind each stolen gem, or simply sink into the sound of a classic vinyl record.

But that would mean pretending, and you don’t have the energy for that either. So you stay. You stay in the solitude of your apartment, listening to the spring storm getting closer, raindrops tapping against your window.

The nightmares keep coming—fragments of memories slipping through your mind, haunting you in the quiet hours of the night. You toss and turn, drenched in cold sweat, your chest tightening with an unease you can’t shake.

That day, you walked behind Caleb. Why does he always look at you like that? Like you’re some helpless animal. 

“We’ve been outside for too long. Gran’s going to be worried” he says. You sigh, arguing with him a little longer. He worries too much. You’re an adult now, you can handle yourself. You’re one of the best in your squad—you don’t need protection.

Caleb shakes his head. “Since you’re grown up now, I won’t cover for you this time” he closed the door and with that a huge explosion knocked you off. 

You wake up gasping. Your hands tremble as you press them to your face, trying to ground yourself in reality. But the memory is so vivid now, more than it ever was before. Because he’s alive. But he shouldn’t be. You went to his funeral. You grieved. You cried for weeks, drowning yourself in work, chasing leads that led to dead ends. Searching, desperate, for any explanation that made sense. You were lucky to just have a few bruises and scratches, but you still don't know how you survived that. 

Is still raining outside.

Friday arrives, and with that, the bass thrums through the air, a hypnotic pulse that sinks into your bones. The music is loud, almost overwhelming, but it pulls you in, makes you move without thinking. The crowd around you sways in sync, bodies pressed close, some dancing, some lost in their own world. Flashes of blue and red lights sweep over the dance floor, catching glimpses of flushed faces, sweaty skin, and wide, dilated pupils. Laughter and shouts mix with the heavy bass, but it’s all just background noise. You let the rhythm take over, moving to the music, feeling lighter with every beat. The shots you took earlier are kicking in, smoothing out the tension in your mind, making everything feel a little more distant, a little easier. 

You're not here to drink yourself into oblivion, this isn’t about forgetting. But Tara knows you too well. She’s been sliding shot after shot of tequila your way, a knowing glint in her eyes. She’s not being subtle. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

Tequila loosens your tongue.

And Tara? She’s waiting. Watching for that moment when your guard slips, when the alcohol smooths out the edges of your thoughts just enough for you to say what you wouldn’t sober.

You slightly stumble into the bathroom, Tara right behind you. The pounding bass from the dance floor fades into a dull thrum. You grip the edge of the sink, taking a deep breath, using the cold water to clean the sweat of your neck. 

"So," she starts, dragging out the word. "Are you going to tell me?"

You blink at her. "Tell you what?"

Tara tilts her head, exhaling like she’s dealing with a particularly slow student. "Skye. That ridiculously handsome fruit entrepreneur you’re definitely fucking aaand… you’re in love with?" She smirks. "That. Talk to me."

You hang your head in shame. Tara can read you like an open book. She’s not stupid. Sweet? Sure. Cheerful? Most of the time. But when she wants the truth, she has a way of digging it out of you, whether you like it or not.

"Fine, fine…" you mumble, rubbing your temples as if that’ll somehow erase the tequila-induced haze clouding your brain. "I have…" You trail off, searching for the right word like it might magically appear on the bathroom wall. Tara arches a brow, waiting. "...Something with him" you finally admit, the words tasting both bitter and sweet.

"I knew it" Tara says triumphantly, a smirk spreading across her face. But then, her expression softens. "But… there’s something more, right? Is he treating you well?"

Your instinct is to brush it off, to tell her everything is fine. Perfect, even. But you hesitate, and that tiny moment of silence is enough for Tara to catch on. Her smirk fades as she studies your face.

"Hey," she says gently. "What’s wrong?"

You shake your head quickly, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. You don’t want to cry. Not here. Not now.

"I’m fine with Skye, really. I’m fine." you insist, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. "Emm…  It’s not about him… I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it."

Tara doesn’t look convinced.

"You can always talk to me, you know that?" Tara says softly, her voice free of judgment, just warmth.

Before you can respond, she pulls you into a long hug, wrapping her arms around you tightly. The kind of hug that makes your chest ache, like it’s holding together all the cracks you’ve been ignoring. For a second, you let yourself sink into it. Eyes closed, fists gripping the back of her jacket. You don’t say anything because if you do, you might break. You just want to forget for a moment, so you put on your best smile. 

You step out of the club with Tara, your laughter spilling into the crisp night air as you imitate the ridiculous guy who’d tried—laughably—to hit on both of you at the same time. The absurdity of it still had your sides aching. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed this, the chaos, the rhythm, the freedom of letting go. Your feet ache from hours of dancing, but it's the kind of satisfying pain, the kind that comes from having fun. You glance down at your feet, sighing a little, but when you look back up, Tara's already pulling out her phone, tapping away at a text with that familiar, sly smile.

"Good night! Come home safe, you hear? she says, giving you a playful wink before stepping back with a wave.

You smile back, tilting your head to the side. "Night, Tara. We need to do this more often."

Her laugh rings out, light and warm, as she taps out one final text before slipping her phone back into her bag. She spins on her heel, her stride confident as she calls over her shoulder, "Oh, trust me, we will."

You decide to walk a few streets down, hoping the cool night air will help ease the alcohol still remaining in your system. The city around you buzz with the low sounds of late-night life—cars passing, distant conversations, and the occasional siren. You pull your jacket tighter around you, enjoying the peace after the chaos of the club.

As you walk, you briefly think about calling Sylus. It’s late, though, but you figure he’s probably busy with his usual late-night reading or, more likely, handling some shady business—being the leader he is. A smirk tugs at your lips.

You glance down at the bracelet with the cursed gem, remembering the hunt in the N109 Zone. The gem had caused so much trouble, but you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of Sylus swearing he had "lost" it. He really has no luck when it comes to keeping things, does he?

The thought of him—his unwavering confidence, the rare softness he reserves only for you—warms you from the inside out, like the memory of his hand brushing against your hand, your cheek and finally all over your body.

You shake your head with a quiet chuckle, a mixture of fondness and comfort washing over you. Sylus has a way of consuming your mind without even trying. It’s maddening, really. But in moments like this, you don’t fight it. You let yourself savor the pull he has on you, that magnetic connection you both share.

Maybe you’re finally ready to tell him how you feel. You haven’t said those tree teeny-tiny words that are always on your lips. Is undeniably to say that what you two have is certainly a relationship. The thought sends a flicker of nervous energy through you, but it’s one you can’t push away any longer. After all, you’ve declared it already—in your own, complicated way. The matching bracelets might as well be a couple's tokens, a declaration sealed by the ominous phrase you both had exchanged: “Live together and die together.”

Your fingers graze the gem on the bracelet, its surface cool against your skin. The memory of the moment flashes brightly in your mind. Sylus’s eyes, deep and endless like the gem itself, holding this mix of tenderness and affection. He had looked at you in a way that made your breath catch, and though he hadn’t said much, the subtle shift in his expression told you everything you needed to know. He was happy. Happy to share the „curse“ and whatever else might come with it, as long as it was with you. At that moment, you wanted to kiss him so bad.

You laugh softly to yourself, shaking your head again. Nothing about Sylus is ever quite normal—not the way he plans, not the way he cares, not even the way he agrees to wear such trinkets like it’s a love note. But that’s okay. In fact, it’s more than okay. It’s him.

So much has changed since that snowy night. Despite the low temperature outside and the way the snow piled heavily on the ground, you felt warm—warmer than ever on a winter night. Your territories merged into one, his skin became yours, and yours became his. The cold was forgotten as his touch anchored you, the world outside fading until only he remained.

During the festivities, creating lanterns for the New Year, in your new complicity. You have almost forgotten the mission you both went after that snowy night.

„I don't need to mention that you always surprise me, sweetie.“ Sylus smiles at you from the passenger seat.

You smile back, the satisfaction of your plans falling into place shining in your eyes. "It’s what I do best" you reply confidently, earning a soft suppressed laugh from him.

Sylus shakes his head lightly, his sharp red eyes glinting with intrigue. "Go on, tell me what you’ve figured out, my bold hunter" he prompts, leaning back in his seat, clearly enjoying your moment of triumph as much as you are. Your fingers tighten slightly around the steering wheel as you prepare to unveil your findings.

It’s only when the faint scuff of a step echoes behind you, too close to be ignored, that the spell of your thoughts breaks. The warmth in your chest cools instantly, replaced by the sharp edge of awareness. You glance over your shoulder, the street seems empty. Either way, you pick up the pace, your footsteps quickening on the sidewalk. That nagging feeling won’t go away. Someone’s definitely following you.

You keep your pace steady, trying to stay calm, but your hand instinctively moves towards where your weapon would be. It’s not there. Dammit. You left it at home. Of course, the security guy at the club wouldn’t have let you in with it. You click your tongue in frustration. You wanted a simple, easy night. Instead, you're walking through dark streets, being stalked like some damn prey. Surely that moron from the club is stalking you now, for letting him down. This drunk dipshit has no scruples whatsoever. The last thing you need is a confrontation. You can’t help but feel the adrenaline start to pump, trying to spot whosoever tailing you. 

You whip around into a side street, your heart pounding. You peek over your shoulder again, the unease turning to full-blown anxiety. But as you turn to face forward, a hard, sudden impact knocks you off your feet. Pain erupts across your face, and you stagger back, knees buckling as the world tilts dangerously. Blood trickles down your cheek, hot and sticky.

A low laugh follows you, cruel and mocking. "We got you, honey... Be good, and don’t make any sound."

Before you can even react, something heavy slams against the back of your head, your vision spins out of control. The darkness takes over, pulling you under like a wave. Sylus... Hardly able to hold onto the thought as everything goes black for a moment.

"Hey! Are you stupid or something!? The boss said she should arrive in one piece" The big guy that punched you, swings out to hit the other guy in the face. "You!" He turned to the third man in a raincoat "Throw her in the truck, we're leaving".

The big guy spits on the ground, wiping his knuckles with the back of his hand, his face twisted in irritation. He shoots a glare at the third man, who's standing off to the side, clearly unsure of what to do.

"Get moving, asshole" the big guy growls. "Don't make me repeat myself."

Raincoat guy, a little skittish but obedient, steps forward and grabs your arm, yanking you to your feet with surprising strength. You barely register the movement, your head spinning, everything still hazy from the second blow you took. The world around you seems to blur and twist as they drag you along the alley, the sounds of their voices muffled as if coming from underwater.

"It wasn’t easy to get you" the big guy mutters, his tone low as they push you toward a black truck parked at the end of the street. "But.. It seems that today is our lucky day." The cold metal of the truck presses against your face as you slip completely into unconsciousness. You feel your hands being tied roughly. It hurts. You don't even have the strength to scream. The world fades away, leaving only the faintest whisper of the crow's caw ecos in your mind before everything goes dark.

Under the red moon in the N109 Zone, in one of the many locales under Onychinus's control, stood an opulent lounge hidden within the skeleton of an old industrial building. Polished black marble floors gleamed under the warm glow of crystal chandeliers, their light dancing across walls adorned with intricate carvings and rich velvet accents.

A long bar of dark wood stretched across one side of the room, lined with bottles of the finest spirits from across the world. Plush leather seating circled low tables, each arranged for privacy and comfort. The faint hum of classical music played in the background, a stark yet intentional contrast to the lawless chaos that marked the rest of the zone.

Sylus glanced at the cards in his hand, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he discarded one and leaned back in his armchair. On the table in front of him, cards, chips, and a half-full glass of whiskey were laid out in a casual arrangement that belied the tension in the air. The dim lights of the room flickered over his sharp features, creating shadows that only accentuated his calm, confident demeanor. His eyes flicked briefly to the clock on the wall. It was late, but that didn't matter. The game had its own rhythm, its own flow. Time was just another tool in Sylus’s arsenal.

The men —business associates, lackeys, and rivals alike— around the table exchanged words about profits and threats, the usual back-and-forth of business. Sylus sat at the head, his posture relaxed yet commanding, fingers loosely gripping the edge of his glass. To anyone watching, he looked completely in control, nodding at the right moments, his sharp eyes betraying nothing. But the truth is, he wasn’t really listening. His mind was elsewhere.

He’d just finished dealing with a potential problem in one of the sectors—nothing that couldn’t be handled by the twins, but still, it had required his attention. Normally, his focus would remain on the next move, but tonight, his thoughts wandered. 

He knew you’d be out tonight, enjoying yourself. Mephisto is taking an eye on you, even if he shouldn't be monitoring every time. But it is the best for both. And besides, you don't need to know everything he does to keep you safe. His jaw tightened slightly, and he forced himself to relax. The thought of you laughing, genuine and carefree, eased the tension in his chest. He wanted you here, with him. The room’s dim light, the murmur of voices, the ever-present hum of danger, it all felt less significant compared to the idea of you.

He imagines you sitting on his lap, dancing in the shower, looking at him with that sweet smile laying next to him…makes Sylus want to leave immediately, setting everything on fire. Burning the whole fucking planet down if that’s keeping him from going back to you. Especially after that sublime night when you finally fell into his arms, when you finally said yes to him. The memory of your sweet whimpers replayed in his mind, again and again. The way you called his name in soft whispers is a melody he couldn’t forget. 

The lascivious sound that emanates through the silence of the room, the rustle of the sheet under your skin, the slight creaking of the bed as Sylus thrust his cock inside you, a symphony that he wishes would not stop. 

“Sy..Sylus” you moan. “More...”

“As you wish." 

Each movement, each shift of his body against yours, sends a wave of heat through him, making it harder to stay composed. His muscles tighten with every gasp and every whimper that comes from you. Your fingers pulling at his silver hair, it's like adding fuel to the fire. 

Sylus took a discreet, deep breath, forcing himself to keep his composure. His dick is already reacting to the thought of your naked body. That night and all the others he has spent with you, have been the ones in which he has slept most peacefully. In his built fortress where he can have you all to himself, away from the dangerous world, where every second person wants to kill him. And in those moments, the chains of anxiety, loneliness and fear vanish with every smile you give him. He still doesn’t understand how, despite everything he did to you in the beginning—kidnapping you, forcing you to resonate with him—you still choose him. 

He would never have imagined that in this opportunity that the universe has given him, he would actually have you for himself. He doesn’t want to be selfish or let greed consume him, but it’s not enough. He waited so long, so painfully long. Every second he doesn't spend with you is another second wasted in his semi-mortal life that he has. The desire to feel your love forever, your hand gently caressing his hair, drowns him.

He needs to call you after this—no, perhaps he would come to you instead. Maybe pick you up wherever you were or better yet, slip into your apartment and fall asleep beside you, where he belonged.

His phone vibrated, a notification lighting up the screen. His gaze flinched to it briefly, a part of him wondering if it was you. Perhaps you wanted to share some late-night thought or even indulge in one of those rare moments of vulnerability you let slip with him. The idea of hearing your voice, even through the static of a call, pulled all his attention.

As soon as he unlocked the screen, his smirk faltered just for a fraction of a second. His eyes narrowed as the footage played. The image on the screen was unmistakable: you, stumbling, disoriented, your silhouette outlined in the harsh glow of streetlights. A group of bastards surrounded you, their movements quick and methodical as they shoved you half unconscious toward the back of a truck. His fingers tightened around the phone, the faintest crack of pressure whispering through the room as his grip betrayed his calm exterior. For a moment his Evol expands around him, the crimson mist charged with energy could have killed everyone in the room in an eyeblink.

Sylus’s expression turned dark, cold and lethal. A surge of bloodlust coursed through him—the calculated rage that always ignited when someone dared to lay a hand on his treasures. And in this moment the greatest treasure is you. The men at the table, sensing the shift in the room, grew tense. The air felt heavier, thick with the wordless fear of being in Sylus’s presence when his mood changed. The conversations died down, and even the bravest of them hesitated to make eye contact with him. Everyone in this room knew Sylus’s reputation. They’d seen or heard stories of what happened to those who crossed him. And they knew very well that, while his vengeance is swift, it is the aftermath that was truly terrifying. Feeling the weight of his anger was to face something worse than death itself.

Sylus tapped his fingers against the table like a countdown to doomsday. His mind raced through possibilities, contingencies, and plans he’d already set in motion to ensure your safety. He’d anticipated countless threats, prepared for a hundred scenarios. But this? This wasn’t business. This was personal.

Taking you couldn’t be just an arbitrary coincidence. You weren’t an easy target, not with the layers of protection he has placed around you. No, this was intentional. Someone had been watching, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Finally, he broke the sepulchral silence making the men feel the air grow colder around them. “Excuse me, gentlemen. It appears I have… more urgent matters to attend to.”

He stood slowly, his eyes scanning the room one last time. None dared meet his gaze, their fear as tangible as the tension in the air. They knew Sylus wouldn’t merely retaliate—he’d destroy whoever had dared to piss him off. Making them pay the price in the most painful, unforgettable way possible. They had unknowingly signed their own death warrants.

As Sylus reached for his coat, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at the screen—coordinates update of Mephisto position. He stepped out into the dimly lit hallway where Luke and Kieran waited. Both men straightened immediately, their usual confidence replaced with a cautious tension. They could sense it.

Luke spoke up, cautious, "Boss..."

Sylus didn’t even spare him a glance. He didn’t need to. Sylus shoved his phone into Luke's hand, the grainy clip of you being hauled into a truck playing in grim silence. His voice was low and cutting as he stepped forward.

"It’s hunting season," Sylus said coolly. Both stiffened. "I want a name. I don’t care who you have to hurt to get it." His eyes flicked between them, daring either of them to question him. They knew exactly what it meant: no one was safe. Every shred of mercy Sylus might have offered was off the table.

Kieran gave a sharp nod, already in motion. “We’ll find out who’s behind this, boss.”

Sylus’s lips curved into a smug smile. “Make sure you do. If anyone’s stupid enough to get in the way…” He let the threat hang in the air.

------------------

Your mind slowly clears, but the pain in your head and the taste of blood in your mouth make it hard to focus. You try to move, but something isn’t right. A sudden panic flares inside you as you realize your hands are bound. You attempt to shift your position, trying to find a way to free your hands, but there’s no give. The bindings are too tight biting into your skin, and your fingers are numb from the position they’re forced into. A curse escapes your lips.

A dim light flickers beneath the door, throwing unsettling shadows across the cold, concrete floor. The emergency light above you hums softly, its steady drone amplifying the oppressive silence that surrounds you. You swallow hard, the metallic taste of blood lingering in the back of your throat. It’s hard to think clearly with your head pounding like this, but one thing is certain: you need to get out of here.

Frustration rises inside you, the feeling of being trapped and powerless threatening to drown you. Your body hurts, each movement is an aching twinge through your limbs, but you refuse to stay down. You try to sit up, darkness creeping at the edges of your vision while your head is spinning. For a moment, the world tilts dangerously, and you think you might pass out again. You take a shaky breath, forcing your body to obey. Slowly you manage to sit up against the wall. 

With all the training you have had, even the session with Sylus or Xavier, nothing has prepared you for this. Being in pain and injured makes every mission hundred percent more dangerous, that's for sure. Now your body feels heavy and weak. You don’t know how long you’ve been out, but every minute you stay here, the situation gets worse.

“Where the hell am I?” you mutter to yourself, voice hoarse. No windows, no clues. No phone, no gun. The possibility of being found... It will be hours before anyone notices you've disappeared. Your breath catches as the realization hits: whoever brought you here isn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon. The thought makes your stomach churn. You shake it off. You can't afford to panic. The nice clothes you had put on for this trouble-free night are dirty, your socks torn. They've even left you barefoot. You try to hold back your tears. It seems that life loves to see you in these situations. Like seriously, how many times have you been so kidnapped already? This is the third time, if you count Caleb looking at you in his apartment and Sylus three days in his basement. Even if you believe you should have been stronger, this isn’t on you. 

What is this shit about!? 

After a while, the door swings open and a big guy comes in. The light from the hallway is bothering your eyes, making it hard to see the man clearly. He's not very tall, rather broad, wearing a shirt that's too tight for his body. He looks like some rich idiot's lackey. God, how you hate this. The smell of tobacco is definitely coming from him, but the smell of disinfectant comes from somewhere else. You try to pick behind the silhouette who is approaching you. 

"Wow, wow, look at that. Did you sleep well, princess?" he says with a mocking tone making your skin crawl. You press yourself harder against the cold wall, instinctively trying to make yourself smaller.

You glare up at him, forcing your voice to stay steady despite the surge of anger and fear in your chest. "Who are you?" you ask, but your words are tinged with more insecurity then you want to admit. “What do you want?”

He grins, kneeling in front of you like a predator sizing up its prey. The mockery in his smile is unbearable, and his words only make the situation worse.

"Oh, nothing" he says, the smell of your mouth makes you nauseous. "We just needed a bait." You manage to spit the rest of the blood on the floor, your eyes locking onto him with defiance. "Even with your damaged face you look beautiful. I understand why he has you around.” Your stomach turns, but you fight the urge to recoil as he reaches toward your face.  “I'm sure you suck him well off with that little mouth." You twist your head away, shaking his hand off with a quick, forceful movement. You breathe heavily and the pain in your head hits you again.

His malicious laughter has a sickening sound. "No need to be shy, princess. We know all about you."

You laugh trying to hide every piece of fear in you. “Oh... Entlight me”

“The untouchable Leader of Onychinus has a weak spot, his Achilles heel…” The man sneers. “A sexy hunter. ”His eyes glint with amusement as he leans in. “In other words... You” The words hit you hard, like a punch to the stomach.

“Achilles heel?” you ask with sarcasm. “I wish. So, you just know that I'm a Hunter trying to imprison him? Wow, great job, big boy. You really cracked the code, didn’t you?” You let out a soft, mocking laugh, leaning back against the cold wall as if his words mean nothing to you. Your heart is hammering in your chest, your ears are ringing because of the anxiety you’re feeling. Let him think you’re a regular Hunter. Nothing more. Let him underestimate you. The more he thinks you’re helpless, the better your chances of escaping this twisted game they’ve dragged you into.

He doesn’t seem amused. "Oh, I see," he sneers, his eyes narrowing as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your face. If he gets any closer, you might just throw up on him. "Playing dumb little girl, huh? Cute." He pauses for a moment. Checking your expression. "You think we don’t know who you really are? You’re not fooling anyone."

“Do you always talk this much, or are you just enjoying the sound of your own voice?” you counter, your words sharper now. It’s a gamble, but anything to keep your composure.

His eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn't seem fazed. If anything, his smirk widens at your resistance. "You’re a tough one. I like that. You are one of those that are more fun to break" he says, his tone makes you shiver. He stood up and grabbed you by your hair, throwing you into the middle of the room. You scream. He approaches you while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. "Oh, yeah, I will have fun with you before the others can." He kicks you in the stomach, and you scream in pain. "Don't worry I won't kill you."

You just feel bumps all around your body, you don't know how much time passed but it felt like an eternity. The pain is everywhere, you try to protect yourself somehow but there is no way. You are completely at its mercy. The taste of blood fills your mouth and finally when he stops you throw up: the tequila shots, the drinks and your dinner. The deep laughter tells you it's over. The door swings shut behind him, the sound of the lock clicking into place echoing in the room and with that the silence follows.

Sylus...

You fall unconscious again, everything hurts.

------------------

"Speak" Sylus commands, his voice low and clipped, as he stands in the armory, carefully selecting the weapon he'll need. Luke and Kieran finally return after two hours.

"There’s a man, goes by Rudy," Luke begins, breaking the silence. "Seems he’s been conspiring against you for a while."

Sylus exhales sharply, a frustrated sigh escaping him. "Not that jerk," he mutters under his breath. Rudy was one of those insufferable enemies you can have. At best, you could ignore him and hope he didn’t get too out of hand, but it was always a risk. He was a horrible man—too much alcohol, drugs, and cigarettes, with more money than sense. A nobody with delusions of grandeur. His greatest desire was to dethrone Sylus and take control of the N109 Zone. The last bastard who tried that, is dead.

However, the last time Sylus had to deal with that human waste, things went a bit awry. Rudy tried to interfere in a protocore transaction a few months ago, where Sylus gave him a first and last warning, not to interfere in his business. Rudy didn’t take it well, of course. That mission was when you managed to get the plane tickets to go with him. Despite all his efforts to keep you safe, you always found a way to stand by his side. During the mission, Rudy must have memorized your face. Sylus never brought anyone but the twins into his business. He tries to keep out of the mess but… You taught him a good lesson, kicking Rudy’s ass when he tried to attack you, you managed to dodge and knock him to the ground with ease. His beloved is such a fierce hunter. 

"And...?" he placed some weapons on the table and the ammunition boxes.

"He’s the one who kidnapped Miss Hunter," Kieran adds, his tone tense. "It’s definitely a trap. He must know that you... have feelings for her."

Sylus’s eyes narrow, his jaw tightening at the mention of that fact. He knew exactly what Rudy was capable of, but to dare mess with him directly—kidnapping you... He should have killed him right then and there. But now, hearing the confirmation of what Rudy had done, Sylus’s grip tightens around the weapon in his hand. The anger surging through him is sharper, more dangerous than it had been before, and no amount of control can suppress it.

The hours of waiting was almost a waste of time. Sylus knows that the twins surely tried his best to bring the information to him, as soon as possible. You could be dead by now. He tried to erase the idea from his head. Mephisto lost track of your kidnappers in a remote area, it seems there is an electromagnetic field. However rushing in blindly, without the proper intel, would be reckless. Sylus was never reckless. He won’t let this go. This time, he’ll make sure Rudy learns the true cost of crossing him.

“There’s something…” Luke started. Sylus’s phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with an unknown number. He picks it up without hesitation, his voice cold and dismissive as he answers.

"Mister Sylus! My old friend!" The voice on the other end is smug, dripping with false camaraderie.

"Cut the crap, Rudy" Sylus snaps, his patience already wearing thin. He leans against the armory wall, his hand gripping the phone with the same tension he holds his weapon.

"Oh, come on now" Rudy laughs, his voice thick with arrogance. "That’s how you greet an old friend? Don’t be so harsh..."

"I don’t have time for this shit" Sylus growls, his eyes narrowing as he listens to Rudy’s infuriating tone.

"Ah, ah, ah… Be nice." Rudy continues, almost gleefully "I have something of yours. I wouldn’t mind giving it back, but... I want something in return."

He straightens, his posture sharp as steel. "Where is she?"

Rudy chuckles, clearly enjoying the tension. "Impatient as always. She’s... fine." There is a pause. "Say something sweetheart." Sylus freezes as he hears your voice, faint but unmistakable in the background. 

His mind flickers with a clear dark scenery: Rudy’s lifeless body, each limb meticulously severed, his blood-streaked remains scattered in the ocean to be forgotten by the world. He doesn't usually take the time to torture any of his enemies, but he would take all the time in the world for Rudy. Disintegrating his body with his Evol wouldn't give him the satisfaction he needs. He can already picture the slow, torturous death he’ll deliver, every cut precise, every moment a lesson in regret.

"Don't touch me you asshole—!"

There’s a scream, followed by a sharp scuffle, and then the sound of you biting him. Rudy curses under his breath, but Sylus can’t help but smile—if only for a split second. At least you still have some fight left in you. It’s a small victory in the middle of a much larger storm.

“Rudy” he says, his voice dropping to an almost deadly whisper. “You really don’t understand what you’ve done.”

On the other end of the line, Rudy laughs again, the sound grating against Sylus’s nerves. “Oh, but I think I do. You see, Mister Sylus, I’ve been watching you for a while now. You’ve got a weakness, and she’s absolutely delightful. I’m just making the most of it.”

Sylus doesn’t respond immediately. “I’ll give you one chance. Tell me where she is, and maybe I’ll make your death quick.”

“Always so violent,” Rudy replies mockingly. “You think I’m stupid enough to tell you that? No, no, no. This isn’t a negotiation. You give me what I want, and I’ll consider giving her back. Whole, even.”

The sound of your muffled voice cuts through the conversation again, and for a brief second, Sylus’s mask of control slips. His teeth clench, his jaw tight, as he stares at the weapons lining the armory wall.

“You’re running out of time,” Sylus growls, the dark promise in his tone chilling. “Do you know what happens to people who touch what’s mine?”

Rudy laughs, though it’s tinged with a nervous edge. “Oh, I know exactly what happens. But... You’re not in control this time.”

Sylus just smirks, his free hand brushing over the handle of a blade.

"What do you want?" 

Rudy’s tone shifts, the mockery giving way to cold calculation, his words laced with greed. “You know what I want. The Aether Core. I want it delivered to me, and if I don’t get it... well, let’s just say things will get very uncomfortable for your precious little bird.”

Sylus’s jaw clenches at the mention of the Aether Core. That cursed artifact—the very thing he’d gone to great lengths to bury, to keep out of the hands of people like Rudy. It wasn’t just dangerous; it was catastrophic in the wrong hands. And he? He was the embodiment of “wrong hands.”

For months, Rudy had been sniffing around for it, pushing boundaries, threatening allies, but Sylus had always stayed one step ahead. Now, it seems he has finally found the leverage he needed to force him into a corner. He knew the Aether Core couldn’t fall into Rudy’s grasp. The devastation it could unleash wasn’t just Sylus’s problem—it was a threat to everyone. The thought of you... Sylus mind paused for a moment. Is true that he has it, you both rescued that thing in the last mission. If Rudy is just asking about that one, it means he doesn't know about your Aether Core in your body. Sylus click is tough, that would give him more time but you're still in danger.

“Tick tock, Mister S.” Rudy teased, breaking the silence. “I give you, let me think, ten no... eight, let's do four hours to decide. Bring me what I want, or I’ll start sending you little pieces of her. Maybe I’ll start with a finger... or should I play a bit with that mouth she has? I haven’t decided yet.”

Sylus’s vision blurred for a second, red with rage. He took a slow, steadying breath, forcing himself to stay composed.

“You're dead by tomorrow.”

“Oh, I'm shaking.” Rudy replied smugly. “Don’t make me wait.”

The line went dead, but Sylus didn’t lower the phone right away. His hand trembled, not with fear but with the force of his restrained ire. He turned toward Luke and Kieran, who had been standing silently, their expressions grim.

“We need the location” Sylus barked, his voice sharp as a blade. “Now.”

Kieran nodded, already pulling out his device to track Mephisto. Luke looked at Sylus, his face tense. “Boss, what's the plan?”

Sylus’s eyes darkened, a murderous glint in them. “Tonight, we’ll put on quite the show. Bring everything—I’m going to destroy that worthless bastard and the filth he calls his empire.”

He picks up his leader jacket from the back of the chair and slips it on, his mind already running through the details. There’s no room for mistakes. Not this time.

"We’re going to meet him." Sylus says finally, his voice is colder than ever. "Get ready.” 

“Yes, boss!” They say in unison. 

Luke paused for a moment before speaking. “But there is something else you need to know…”

Navigator: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | AO3

A/N: To be honest, I was nervous about releasing this. I hope I could live up to expectations and give you a good show. I had a lot of fun writing this. It's complex, as I've already mentioned, and I'm not used to long stories—let alone ones in this category. Next chapter in 2 weeks.

If you have the time, leave me a comment. I would love to hear your feedback.

[lettersoftheshygirl]

“when did you get so pretty?” caleb (l&ds) x fem!reader

part 1/3

you did not expect that question from him. why did he say that so suddenly? more importantly, what did that even mean? the two of you grew up together, he constantly saw you around and you saw him. the question was so out of the blue, isn't it? caleb never outwardly ogled you or tried to ambush you with unwanted feelings, but you did notice the growing difference in his behavior. the soft touches evedy now and then, the hand on your waist when the two of you were sat together. it just kept getting more and more lately.

that question was even more unwanted right now. the two of you were sat in your uni dorm, you were dressed in some baggy sweatpants that you had worn a thousand times before - ketchup, curry and mysterious stains adorned the soft fabric like some sort of medal, and of course a the strokes t-shirt you loved and adored. you had no makeup on either, so you were even taken aback by that sudden question.

“i don't know?” you shrugged, your eyes looking around the tiny dorm nervously before looking back at your childhood friend. he just nodded and looked back at his phone like he didn't just make your heartbeat twice as fast.

caleb was like that. ever since the first time he saw you when you were six, he had an effect. he made you smile and laugh and feel better but he also made you feel flustered, and very weird; like there was a bird trapped in your ribs, flapping it's wings constantly to be let out and flowers constantly growing in your lungs to suffocate you with the thoughts that he will never really be yours. he was just your friend though, right?

“weird.”

“did you say sum’?” caleb asked, ploping some crisps into his mouth that he stole from your bag. some other time you would have been annoyed, but your assignments and all these annoying thoughts that constantly nagged your little mind just made you overstimulated to even care about your fucking lace bar-be-que crisps.

“yea, i said you're acting weird. ” you scoffed, which made him frown and look at you with a weird look.

he laughed. well, not really, but that annoying half-laugh that he does when he finds something amusing. “weird? how?” he asked, leaning from the wall to come a little close to you. he wasn't super close, he was on your bed and you were on the desk. you were supposed to study but how could you with that handso- WEIRD face looking at you every now and then?

“shut your big ass up.” you scoffed, “and give me back my crisps.” you said, standing up from your desk chair with a loud scraping noise and lunging towards him. he successfully dodged it, giving you a sly grin. the question that popped into your mind was when did he get so strong? guess both of you ignored a lot of changes in yourselves lately.

“what was that pip-squeak?” he huffed, pretending not to hear you as he placed his hand inside the family pack of the crisps once again.

this time, your anger got the best of you so you leaned forward, putting one of your knees on the bed and lunging to get the pack from the other side of him but his grip tightened, making you slip. a small sound of pain left your mouth as his knee hit your chest and your head landed on his thigh.

the room got quiet.

caleb got quiet. he's never quiet. his hand formed into a fist as you sat up and took the bag of crisps from him, failing to see what he always saw in you; the heavy breathing, the flushed cheeks, bright blue eyes that looked almost violet in the cool lighting of your room. and of course, the awkward bulge in his pants that he effortlessly hid with a tug of his jacket. he was used to it. crazy how you could never see something so big right in front of you.

“next time get your own.” you mumbled, putting a piece of crisps into your mouth as you sat down on the hard mattress of your bed.

caleb crossed his arms and looked at you with a weird face, “next time i won't be so kind, pip-squeak.” he said, his voice different than usual. you thought you imagined it at first, but his voice sounded.. sensual, almost? it was lower, darker, sexier. nothing like your kind-hearted best friend.

“who cares.” you scoffed, “anyways, you need to get out by 9. the RA won't be so lenient this time, y'know? she's my friend but not really.” you tried to change the topic but you could still feel a weird tension in the air. it made your chest tighten with anticipation, and heavy with a weird sense of melancholy.

“I'll leave.” he sighed, “who are you taking to the formal?”

the formal gala was this end of semester thing your university was having. usually you would take one of your girls, but this time you hadn't got around asking them. it wasn't more so about procrastination or avoiding it, but more about drowning in assignments and work. you could still ask one of your friends and they will say yes, but right now you wanted to annoy caleb. why? no reason.

“my friend.” you answered, vaguely on purpose.

“which friend?” he replied almost instantly as he began to get off the bed and put his shoes on.

“you don't know him. he's a new friend.” as soon as those words left your mouth, he turned around like you had said a slur to him. his puppy dog eyes turned into those ones of a manic german shepherd ready to pounce and his jaws clenched to a shut.

caleb had always been possessive. he was 10 when he realised that any other boys from your class touching you or even talking to you made his blood boil. he got in a lot of trouble for pushing boys in the floor or threatening them when they got too close to you. the teachers would say: it'll get better as he gets older. but it never did.

“him?” he repeated as you hummed positively. he let out another one of those small laughs, “are you tryna’ get me annoyed, pip-squeak?” he asked with a small grin.

“mm.. no.” your clear answer made his hands ball into a fist. was he holding himself back from trying to claim you as his own, or punch whoever this ‘he’ was? it was too hard to guess. “why would I want you to get annoyed? that's so immature.” you said in a taunting tone.

caleb didn't say anything, just stood up from the bed and walked over to the door. his walk was scary. he had grown this confidence in him that mounted around him like a barrier no one could break down, each step was calculating and vindictive. it resembled the one of a black panther— creating an aura so strong, just a look was enough to scare.

“i'll see you later, pip-squeak. take care of your friend.” he said in an awfully sweet tone, which made your heart race and legs squeeze. you didn't quite understand the last part, and you didn't want to either. it was too much for you already

at this point, all you wanted to do was sleep and let this day pass.

a/n: i haven't written in so long 😭

y'all might remember me as @/megumisgirl but i changed my tag to something more ’universal‘ since i have joined a lot more fandom since then, i.e. lnds. my exams are still on and i appreciate all the dms i got since my absence. how are you all doing? lmk in the comments or inbox 💗

also, this isn't proofread so if you see any mistakes, please comment. love you all.

[lumieresdreams]

an: it's 4am, y'know what that means!! random sussy hcs/drabble time with our fav puppy caleb :D

minors dni!!!! no age in bio = blocked

cw: virgin, pathetic, bottom-ish!caleb, he is so desperate for your lovin', masturbation, dry humping, first time, general smut!

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

virgin!caleb who, first and foremost, we can all agree on is a panty sniffer. stuffs one of your dirty undergarments in his pocket on laundry day for later

virgin!caleb who tears up while touching himself to the thought of you while he inhales your scent like his life depended on it, he's almost making himself see stars with the way he grips so tightly and how roughly he was pumping his hand. he'll continue until your scent embeds itself into his memory or until the source itself runs out

virgin!caleb who loves it when you feel comfortable enough to wear a tank top and house shorts that are a little too small, riding up just enough to show off a little more of the curve of your ass when you lounge on your belly, sprawled over his legs on the couch

virgin!caleb who does his best to keep his mind elsewhere but the enticing view in front of him. his phone, the tv, the ceiling fan of all things.... nothing was working, he internally groans as he feels his pants tighten underneath your belly, he's sure you'll feel it if he doesn't do something to get up and away from you now

virgin!caleb who got denied to get up, no matter what kinds of reasons he threw at you. you gave him a smirk from your position, you knew the effect you had on him, all those missing undergarments, all those glances that lingered a little too long when you wear comfortable yet inviting clothing around him

virgin!caleb who almost immediately starts whining when you finally decide to get up, only to trap him on the couch by sitting on his lap. specifically on his groin, which forced a shaky breath out of hum

virgin!caleb who was easily at your mercy when you lifted his chin up, looking into those soulful puppy purple eyes of his that held the galaxy, he was all yours

virgin!caleb who whined, groaned and moaned unrestrained with the way you grinded your hips down against his bulge, the little fabric between you two adding slight friction on top of your movements

virgin!caleb whose hands didn't know where to be or what to do until you guided them onto your hips where they stayed without command, he was so desperate to hold onto something to keep him grounded now. if given permission, he could finish like this via dry humping

virgin!caleb who almost lets out a sob once you finally ran out of patience playing around, now finally having kicked off your shorts and undies, while having pulled caleb's pants and boxers down to let him out. only then to guide his tip vety slowly into your heat

virgin!caleb who was absolutely NOT prepared for how physically hot and tight you were, your walls clinging all around him, slick and needy. he was already tearing up at how good you were making him feel, his hands trembling

virgin bottom!caleb who sat there frozen not out of fear, but out of excitement, all of those years of yearning, dealing with what ifs and daydreaming of the perfect first time, culminating into this unexpected yet welcomed surprise

bottom!caleb that gets spoiled for once in his life, getting pussy drunk after about 10 minutes in of you riding and edging him, he was a whimpering and moaning mess already

bottom!caleb who moans your name like a prayer, repeating it under his breath as he reaches his first climax with you. he might as well consider it a spiritual experience with how high up in the clouds he felt, but that wouldn't be the end of it if you had any say in it

bottom!caleb who's super clingy after you finally had your fill get it? and made sure he also enjoyed himself. he will never forget ever saving himself for you because now, he won't have any other piece of heaven to yearn for when he already has you showing him heaven's gate under your own volition

[sevgilimsatoru]

Error: 410 (Self Aware!AU Caleb Edition) Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Summary: A self aware!AU with Caleb and NonMC! reader.

Tags: Caleb x reader, Caleb x NonMC! reader, Caleb x fem!reader, fluff, angst (slightly) Stressedout!reader. Hypersexual!reader

Word count: 1k

Inspired by: @ittybittyfanblog

"Separated steps; that made this vow; We’ll walk together forever. Now we share this sorrow. wet eyes that used to peek through windows; are now trapped in this suffocation like this. breath is confused; mind is troubled;Why is this heartache happening, my love?"

You were sitting at your desk, working on a project. A study session is going on with Caleb. The scratching of your pen against the page, the sounds of keys clicking on your laptop vibrating through the room.

"Are you actually getting some work done, or are you just staring at me?" You asked, glancing up at Caleb. His cheek pressed against the back of his hand, looking at you with a smile on his face.

"Don't worry about me, sunshine. Just focus on yourself." He said, his eyes fixed on the necklace around your neck. You had brought yourself an exact replica of his necklace—it was merch, and you loved the look on his face when he first saw you wearing it.

"Oh, I'm focused. In fact, I'm almost finished with my work." You said, ending the study session. Leaning back in your chair, you sighed. You were just looking at him, admiring him, and it seemed like he was doing the same.

Until Caleb walked closer and closer to the screen, his hand pressing up against an invisible barrier. You reached out, putting your finger on the phone screen where the palm of his hand was.

"How could you just pretend that this doesn't bother you? Huh?" Caleb asked softly, his face twisting into a frustrated expression. He looked tired, his jaw clenched as his cold eyes stared into your own.

You couldn't act like it didn't bother you. The distance that was always going to be there between you two. The fact you could never reach out and feel his skin on yours. You were still trying to grapple with the realization, and it seemed like Caleb was done believing this idea.

"It does, but what could I even do? You are not a part of my world, and I'm not a part of yours… I've accepted it, you know? The fact that… this is all our relationship is going to be. I'm okay with it."

"Well, I'm not. I can't do this. I just—" Caleb said, letting out a shaky breath. His eyebrows were furrowed, a deep frown on his face, and you were sure his lower lip trembled slightly.

"How could you expect me to just sit here and wait, knowing that I won't be able to protect you if something happens?" What am I going to do if you get in trouble? I can't protect you from the other side of the screen."

"What if… one day, you just leave and never come back?" I wouldn't even know what happened... I would be left with buried memories of you. I…I can't lose you, sunshine." Caleb said, his voice cracking slightly at the ends.

"Caleb, I'll be fi-"

"Like hell, you would be fine. No one knows what is going to happen in the future. You can't promise me something that you aren't yourself aware of."

Your eyes flickered over his face. His words worried you, not for yourself but for him. "Caleb, is everything alright?" You muttered, leaning closer to your phone screen, pressing your forehead against it.

Caleb did the same, leaning in to press his forehead against the screen. He didn't reply. Your breathing was the only thing you could hear along with the faint background music of the game.

"I'm fine, sunshine. I couldn't help but be worried. I'm sorry if I scared you…" He said, keeping his eyes closed. Maybe then, he could pretend you were really there, beside him.

"It's alright…" You said, letting out a huff.

"Can I ask you for a favor, baby? It's a pretty big ask if I'm being honest."

"Of course, anything at all." You replied you weren't sure why you agreed… maybe because you just wanted him to feel better.

"Promise me that you will take care of yourself when I'm gone," Caleb said. You looked up to see his eyes were already on you.

Your eyes widened at his words. Did you hear him right? "What are you talking about…?"

"I'm going to try and find a way to you. I can't live like this… so close to you yet so far away. It'll kill me if I stay put any longer without you beside me. I can't wake up to an empty bed and dream of you beside me. I want to make that dream of myself for you… for us."

"And you are going to make that decision for me now?" You asked, the hopeful look on his face tugged on your heartstrings, but you just couldn't let him do this.

If you said yes, who knows if he'll actually ever find a way to you? You were fine with this as long as he was with you.

"Please… sunshine. You know that's not what I mean…"

"Of course, I do. But how long would that take you? Days, months, years… maybe our entire lifetime. You can't leave me like this—waiting for you like a dog." You said your words were sharp. You understood his intentions, but you couldn't agree with them.

"Sunshine… Don't you trust me?"

"Of course, I trust you. Have you even thought about the consequences of your actions in the world you live in?"

"Everything in your world might just get destroyed if you aren't there. Do you even care about that?"

"No, I don't. I don't care about what will happen. I'll do it. As long as it gets me to you…" Caleb said, leaning closer to the screen to caress your cheek. You instinctively leaned in even though you couldn't feel it.

"Trust me… I'll find my way to you even if it's the last thing I do. You'll wait for me. Won't you?" Caleb asked, looking at you. Trying to soak your presence in for maybe the last time.

"I'll wait for forever if I have to," you replied, giving him a crooked smile. Sniffling as tears filled your eyes. "I love you, you know…"

"I love you too."

"See you soon, sunshine. Take care of yourself, okay?" He said, giving you his signature smile.

You nodded in response. Watching the screen of your phone turn black. Your phone restarted, the phone screen lighting up.

Your fingers curled around the necklace around your neck, the coldness of the metal seeping into your warm fingers. You sat there in silence in your empty apartment.

Tag list: @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @aneertawrites @etsuniiru @demon-master-zero @angstylittleb1tch @mcdepressed290 @ittybittyfanblog @winwinwrites @alifyairl @huhleighna @calebsbeanpeeler @bookworrm1999 @mentaltrouble2201 @noxus123 @babyx91 @multisstuff @beomluvrr @sunnylittleapple @lunia-likes-pomegranet @imhere2dosomething @lostpsycho13

[hauntedbysmut]

Dark Desires

Tags: voyeurism, masturbation, mentions of violence (not against FMC), PIV, creampie

Full fic below the cut or you can take the link.

Darkness had fully blanketed Linkon by the time your hurried steps took you to your apartment building’s doors. A last minute mission with a particularly stubborn Wanderer had demolished your plan to get home early to call Caleb for your nightly chat. Taking another anxious look at your phone, the 8 missed calls and 13 unanswered texts from him glared menacingly from the apps on your screen. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of your neck, knowing that the sheer number of notifications was a bad omen when it came to your rather unpredictable and possessive boyfriend.

Boyfriend. A new label he had given himself the last time he visited, not content to be introduced as a friend anymore, especially around your friends and other men. It wasn’t enough that he owned your mind and body, he wanted everyone to know it, too. Heaven forbid any coworkers saw you as a potential love interest. The thought alone made you swallow heavily.

Pressing the elevator button repeatedly in hopes it would come down faster, your heart began to pound for an entirely different reason. You had spent the whole day teasing him in between work missions. Knowing he was coming back from his own mission this afternoon, you’d had the bright idea to send him some tasteful nude photos you took this past weekend and rather sexual texts, all with the intent for him to see them as soon as he landed and was within range to receive them again. Build up for tonight’s call. Then work ran late… and here you were, trapped in the lobby of your building, praying to gods who probably weren’t listening to get you into your apartment as fast as possible.

The sudden ding of the elevator doors opening in front of you drove you to action and you quickly entered, pressed your floor’s number, and spammed the “close door” button. Your foot tapped nervously on the tiled floor as the elevator finally began its ascent, floors seemingly passing slower and slower the closer you got. Dashing from the elevator seconds after it landed on your floor, you ran down the hall to your apartment and jammed your finger onto the sensor.

“Error. Please try again.” Sighing heavily, you pressed your finger down more firmly.

“Error. Please try again.”

“Come ON!” Your frustration was beginning to boil over as you pressed your finger down one more time, rolling it back and forth lightly on the pad to get it to read. With the small chime of success and a quick press of the doorknob, you stumbled in your front door. The entryway light dimly lit your path as you hurriedly threw down your bag and unlaced and removed your boots. Free of your shoes and bag, you padded into your living room, stopping suddenly as a small gasp escaped your lips.

With only a light glow from his phone screen and the entryway light shining on him, Caleb sat menacingly in the darkness of your living room. The armchair he rested in belayed a comfortable relaxation, but his face was anything but. “Caleb?” You craned your neck to look at him more closely, taking a couple of steps forward in an attempt to see him better.

He was leaned back in the chair, still wearing his uniform pants, which you noticed were undone at the top, as if he had released the button to give himself more room to breathe. His bare chest and abs shone with a light red tint from the mingling lights, casting him in a sinister glow, the shadows playing against the divots and curves of his body, and on his head, his colonel’s hat rested as if he had just come off duty. The metallic glint of his right arm winked from the armrest while his left hand rested against his face, just below his lips. He was smiling. Your legs trembled. Even knowing him as he was now, intimidating and taciturn, he could still make your body react with primal fear at times when caught off guard. His eyes took you in, one detail at a time, resting on each part of your body as if looking for some grave injury or illness that may have caused your delay. Finding nothing, his eyes hardened further.

“Welcome home, pip-squeak. Long day?”

Your eyes were locked on his, watching for any change in expression or twitch in his powerful body. Your legs were tense and ready to run at a moment’s notice. When none came, you shifted from one foot to the other, crossed your arms protectively across your chest, and answered him. “I had a mission that ran long. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” You paused briefly for any reaction. Nothing. “I thought we were video calling tonight?”

He hummed briefly. “That was the original plan, wasn’t it?” He swiped on his screen and your eyes snagged on a familiar photo. Your mouth dropped open in shock. Noting your reaction, he continued to swipe through the nudes you had sent him today. Despite his slow perusal, his eyes were still on you, a predator watching his prey. “Bold of you to send me such sensitive information when I could have pulled these up by accident in front of anyone.” His eyes glinted as his head tilted toward his left hand, still resting against his chin. “What exactly was your plan for us this evening when you sent these pictures?”

Your tongue felt like lead in your mouth, and you swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “I assumed we could spend some time on a video call together.”

He quirked an eyebrow. His smile hadn’t faltered this entire time. Your stomach roiled with butterflies at the lewd thoughts you’d shared via text with him today. “You were going to make me watch?” His voice was so soft, but the undercurrent spoke of danger. Goosebumps broke out along your arms and his keen eyes seemed to notice.

“No?” Your uncertain tone coupled with an apologetic smile had his smile sliding off of his face.

“You’re lying, pip-squeak.” He closed the phone screen, pitching both of you into a deeper darkness. The entryway light’s glow was only so strong this far away. He shifted in the chair, leaning forward until his arms rested on his knees, hands clasped together as he stared up at you from under the brim of his hat. His eyes were so dark they looked almost black, pupils expanded over the usually brilliant purple of his irises.

“Caleb,” you whispered. Another tremor rocketed up your spine and he smiled with predatory intent as he noticed your light shaking. He was like a viper coiled to strike, and you, a harmless mouse, were about to become his meal.

“Scared?” He stood up slowly, taking deliberately measured steps toward you. Despite your instinct to step back, you stood your ground, tightening your arms banded in front of your chest and staring up at him defiantly.

“As if.” Your voice wavered slightly, and internally, you berated yourself for how weak you sounded.

His left hand moved toward your face, brushing a strand of hair that had come loose from your braid back behind your ear. His fingertips grazed your neck as he let his hand trail downward, and another small shiver moved through you at the gentle but intimate touch. Struck stock still, you breathed in short bursts as his head moved forward, leaning down to your neck rather than your face.

His quiet chuckle brushed your ear as his nose bumped your pulse point. He lifted his head and you could feel his lips moving against your earlobe as he whispered, “Such brave words for such a scared little bird.” His left hand came up to snake around your waist, pulling you in closer to him, your feet making stuttered steps as he dragged your torso closer to his own.

You squeezed your arms tightly with your hands as the pressure of his body increased against yours. Much like his evol, Caleb was like gravity, ensnaring you in his orbit whether you wanted to be or not. His face continued its sensory trail along your neck and jawline before his mouth returned to your ear.

“Someone saw me open one of your pictures,” he began. Your eyes widened and a rush of air escaped your mouth. You turned your face toward him abruptly.

“What?!”

His eyes met yours, and they were flinty and hard. His voice was just as dark and angry. “Don’t worry, I made sure he wouldn’t see ever again.” You squirmed in his grip and untangled your arms, trying to push him away. His arm was like a steel band around your middle though, and you were unable to get any kind of distance.

“Caleb, did you kill him?” You searched for any kind of answer and when he didn’t say anything, you pushed against his chest again. “Caleb!”

His hands moved so quickly that you were unable to stop him before he gave you a couple of shakes, hands repositioned on your upper arms. “Nobody gets to see you like that but me. Do you understand?”

You shook your head and hit his chest with your fist repeatedly as you demanded an answer again. “Did. You. Kill. Him!”

Exasperation suddenly burst out of him, “Why do you care? He saw parts of you only I am allowed to see! Has someone else ever received those kinds of pictures from you?” He watched you closely to see if your expression would give the answer away. “Because if there are others, I want to know. NOW.”

You set your jaw stubbornly and shook your head.

His expression relaxed slightly. “Good.” He used his grip on your arms to place them over his shoulders, moving in as closely as he could be to your body. “You’re mine, pipsqueak. Say it.”

Despite the turmoil in your head, the knowledge that he had probably ended someone’s life just because they looked his way at the wrong time and had seen you, you couldn’t ignore the dark, twisted pull you still felt towards him. A single tear slid down your cheek at the realization that you were just as dark and twisted if you could still accept him like this. If you were still willing to be with him even if he would have you no matter the cost. He wiped the tear from your cheek with gentle precision, pressing his forehead against yours, his hat pressing up into his hair, and tilting his head back and forth while he waited for your answer. “Say it,” he murmured, his lips mere centimeters from your own.

You wished you were stronger, that this insane, unbreakable connection didn’t make you feel so out of control and trapped, but simultaneously totally whole. “I’m yours.” Your whispered confession brought his lips down on yours, the previously curbed affection bursting forth like a freed bullet, piercing your heart. You had lost him once. You knew you wouldn’t survive that again. You would take him in any form. If that meant accepting the new darkness that seemed to surround him, you’d do it. Neither of you would be alone ever again.

Your mouths met over and over in a frenzy, and in an effort to appease him, you opened your mouth and touched your tongue to his lips. He groaned into you as his tongue met yours, his dominance rising as he pressed into your mouth with reckless abandon. His hands were firmly locked around your back, bodies flattened against each other as you held on to his neck, legs straining as you pressed onto your tip-toes to be as close to him as possible.

He gave you a sudden nip to your lower lip and shoved you backwards onto the couch. Your arms slapped into the cushions as you braced yourself on impact. “Take off your clothes.” He stood above you, fixing his hat back onto his head. Eager to obey, you pulled at your clothes, unbuttoning your pants and shucking them down your legs, snagging your underwear with them. You peeled your socks from your feet and then ripped your shirt off over your head. Your clothes flung around the room as you hastily discarded them, bra following, Caleb stepped back to the armchair, sitting back down and resuming the position he had been in when you came home.

Panting and dripping across from him, you stared, waiting for his next order. You shivered in the sudden lack of his presence, cool air rushing around your body from your furious disrobing. Your nipples pebbled and strained into the semi-darkness. A brighter light flared to life in Caleb’s view, the screen of his phone lighting up the space marginally and causing your eyes to strain.

“Caleb?” You looked at him with confusion, a blush staining your cheeks red as his right hand clicked a few buttons on his screen.

“Since you wanted me to watch, I’m going to watch.” His smile caused your stomach to flip flop.

“Why is your phone on?”

“Because I’m going to record you.” You inhaled suddenly, pulse sky-rocketing at the implication. He let his eyes drag along your damp, tensed body, and dragged the pointer finger of his left hand through the seam of his lips. “That way, whenever I can’t be with you, I can watch you make a mess of yourself while you scream my name and know that I’m the only one who gets to do this to you. The only one who can touch you or watch you fall apart.” His hand fell from his lips and squeezed his cock through his pants. The dark outline of his length strained against his pants, the tip just below the edge of his underwear, peaking out of the unzipped crotch. “I’m going to direct you, love, and like the good girl I know you are, you’re going to listen, aren’t you?”

Without letting you respond, you watched as his right hand pushed the red record button and swallowed heavily. This felt so wrong, yet so hot. Getting to see how you affected him, knowing he would use this video later to touch himself and come all over his hand watching you, turned you on so much. A little moan slipped past your lips as the mental picture of him stroking himself roughly to your video played in your mind.

“That’s it, baby.” His encouragement reminded you of your new mission, and you looked up at him through your eyelashes. “Sit all the way back on the couch.” You shifted until your back was against the cushions, legs slightly dangling off the ground. “Now pull your feet up until you’ve got them both on the couch in front of you.” One leg at a time, you pulled your legs up until they were folded in front of your body, acting like a barrier between his eyes and your naked flesh. “Shift your feet outward a bit so I can see that pretty pussy.” You could feel your cheeks flaming at his request, knowing your wet lips would soon be visible to the camera and his greedy eyes. You dragged one foot out a few inches before repeating it with the other, letting your knees fall together in the center and biting your lip. Your face felt so hot, and the weight of his gaze on you was like a palpable force, even with him being feet away.

He groaned as he shifted, the brush of fabric against fabric your only hint that he was moving at all. “Spread your knees, baby.” You tucked your head against your chest, taking a deep breath, then gradually letting your knees fall apart. Caleb licked his lips. The way your arms were positioned next to you pressed your breasts together. A subtle pink tint warmed your skin with a mixture of your arousal and embarrassment, and the camera’s light gave your moistened lower lips a gorgeous glow. “Fuck, look at you.” His voice was like crushed velvet, so soft and supple it felt like a caress against your heated skin. “Take two fingers and drag them through your lips for me.” With a full view of his face, watching as his eyes took you in, your excitement mounted. You took a hand and dragged it across your stomach, knowing his ears were picking up every hitched breath, every tiny response your body made, even as his hand squeezed his erection erratically. You wanted to make him lose control.

Even though he hadn’t told you to, you let your other hand shift up and grasp a breast, eyes fluttering shut as you palmed it and then squeezed a nipple between two fingers. Your other hand continued its quest downward, playing in your curled pubic hair and spreading over your labias before you dragged them back up to your pubic bone to slide between your cleft together. The brief stimulation over your clit as your fingers moved made your knees twitch, and as you whined, Caleb hissed through his teeth. You dipped your fingers into your soaking hole, spreading the slick up and down your lips.

“Oh yessss…” He was mesmerized as you pulled your fingers out before plunging them back in. He sat up a little straighter, hand still gripping his dick through his pants, eyes locked on your fingers, even as your back arched from the stimulation you were giving your breasts. “Show them to me.” The need in his voice made you clench on nothing, the noticeable absence of him sending several pleasurable clenches through your core. You lifted your hand and spread your fingers, the fluid on them shining in the low light and stretching between them. You watched as his hips bucked up against his immobile hand, control beginning to slip away as he was riveted by your show. His right arm clenched the armrest as if to keep him from moving toward you, anchoring him in place. A thrill of power despite your submission sang through your bones, and you brought the fingers to your mouth, licking deliberately between them before popping them both into your mouth and sucking them clean.

You knew that this was a dangerous game. At any moment, he could snap and be on you, but for now, you internally celebrated the hold you had on him. Knowing he wouldn’t last much longer, you plunged your fingers back down into your cunt, pumping hard and fast and moaning with abandon as you gave yourself over to the pleasure. Your other hand continued to squeeze and play with your breasts as you fucked yourself with your fingers. The wantonness of the act made you feel bold and uninhibited. You let Caleb’s name slip from your mouth as you added a third finger. You could feel the build-up increasing and decided to go fully in with both hands, redirecting one to your clit while the other thrust in and out of you. The spray of your own fluids against your thighs and Caleb’s answering growls and moans drove you higher and higher until it felt like you were on the edge of a cliff. With a concentrated effort, you took the leap, strumming and stroking until you knew you were screaming his name, just like he wanted.

Caleb strangled his cock as your cries trailed off, fingers wet and shining as you ceased your movements. The shine of the camera light and the sheen of sweat on your skin created an incredible glow. You looked radiant. Sitting up fully, he pressed stop on the video and turned the phone screen off. He stood quickly and turned on the lamp next to the couch. Your eyes blinked blearily up at him, a satiated smile gracing your face as he looked down at you, naked and unashamed, bathed in the pleasure you had taken for yourself by his command. He dropped to his knees, reaching out to stroke your face with his left hand, pulling your right hand up to his mouth and licking your fingers clean.

“You’re so beautiful,” he moaned around your fingers. “So incredible.” He grabbed your other hand and began to lick it clean. “So sexy.”

His reverent expression gave you a new satisfaction. You reached for him, even as he pulled back, shifting to sit on his heels. His hands worked to pull his dick out, pushing his pants and underwear down to his knees. The swollen red tip leaked pre-cum and the new light showed the wet spot on his underwear as they disappeared down his legs. He reached out and grabbed your hips, pulling your ass to the edge of the couch cushion. His frenetic energy had you gripping his arms as best you could, a brief shock of knowing pinging through your pleasure-addled brain. You wanted him to lose control. His pupils, despite the brighter light, were blown wide, and you knew he was lost.

He shifted back up onto his knees and with a quick adjustment, plunged his full length into you. You cried out in surprise, unprepared for such a sudden intrusion, despite having come only minutes before. He drove a hard pace, using his leverage of your hips to shove you down onto him as he bucked up into you until you were halfway off the couch, fingernails digging into his arms as you held on for dear life. He fucked you like a man possessed. His eyes never left where you were joined, watching as his cock shone with your slick on each retreat only to disappear to the hilt as he shoved back in. The angle of the position had him driving up into your g spot on each press upward, and a strange pressure built that you had never felt before. He released one hip to press down on your lower stomach and you screamed as the change in sensation became sharper and more insistent.

“Caleb! Fuck!” You tried to breathe. Tried to warn him of what you thought might be coming, but it was too late. All reason, all sense fled your body as you seized along his cock, body tensing and squeezing as your eyes rolled back in your head and a feeling like none you had ever experienced short-circuited your brain.

Caleb watched in awe as your pussy pushed him out, squirting all over his torso. He looked up to see you convulsing against the couch, hair plastered to the sides of your face and mouth open on a silent scream as your dripping hole clenched on air. A roar of primal pride bolted through his brain and he shoved his now dripping dick back inside of you, pressing your legs further back into your chest, moving to half standing, and unleashing himself. All he could think about was the tight squeeze of your cunt, the fucked out look on your face, and the recognition that you were his.

He leaned forward and kissed your lips. You tried to kiss him back, but found it hard to focus after the barrage of pleasure you had just endured. It didn’t take long for him to lose rhythm and come inside of you, his whole body alight with you and the tight clutch of your body on his.

Both of you were panting hard as he lifted you into his arms, still buried inside of you, and turned so he was sitting on the couch. He draped you against his chest, kissing your forehead and wiping the sweaty strands of hair away from your face. Your skin slicked against each other as he shifted to get comfortable. His heart pounded beneath your ear and you knew yours kept the same pace.

“Caleb?” Your voice sounded weak and thready, even to your own ears. You coughed to clear your throat a bit more. He chuckled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, pip-squeak.” He pulled you as close as he could, arms tight against your back and you felt him sigh in contentment. His head bent down to your ear and his voice was suddenly darker and more intense. “You’ll always be mine.”

[jane-the-good]

CALEB: tender moments pt. 2

WORD COUNT: 1.8K

SUMMARY: kindergarten teacher AU! It’s a lovely day with just a hint of stress, but that’s how life is. Caleb is always there to lend a hand and make everything easier ◡̈ but what if you’re on your own when a wanderer attacks???

TAGS: Caleb x MC, fluff

AN: I like how in game there are lots of tender moments ◡̈ I think I might keep more going! maybe more AUs if you have requests ♡

WARNINGS: fighting, disaster at an elementary school (no death), weenie bit of yandere Caleb

AO3 caleb masterlist

The morning is a hush, a breath held between night and day. A sliver of time untouched, where the world lingers along the line of dreaming and waking. The air is thick with quiet, the kind that softly streams through windows, weightless and warm. Light drapes itself in long, golden threads, stretching across the floor, as if hesitant to disturb the stillness. For a moment, everything is suspended, unrushed, unbroken, waiting.

You wake to the comforting scent of breakfast, the softness of Caleb’s presence moving through the kitchen. He’s always up before you, his body already warm from his morning workout, his hair still damp from the shower. He doesn’t say much at first, just gives you a smirk when he catches you watching him.

"Morning," you mumble, still groggy as you step toward him, stealing the toast off his plate before sinking into your chair.

His thoughtful care is everywhere, the way he makes sure your plate is full, the way he watches, making sure you eat, making sure you’re cared for. It’s in the way he puts lotion on your hands for you and in the way he reminds you, "You call me if anything happens, okay?" His voice firm, but laced with something deeper.

You promise you will.

Your classroom is warm, sunlight spilling through the windows as your students work through their assignments, their soft murmurs filling the air. You love this, the way their minds spark to life, the way they look to you for guidance, for understanding. It’s what you were meant to do.

It starts with a distant rumble. The sound is low, like thunder trapped beneath the ground. Then, the entire building shivering. A sickening lurch, followed by a deafening roar. The lights flicker. The security alarms blare.

Panic tightens around the school in an anxious fist.

Through the window, you only see its shadow. A Wanderer. A thing born from deepspace, all wrong angles and shifting mass. It’s hulking darkness warping the light. Its eyes burn, sickly and bright.

The world erupts. An explosion tears through the hallway, shockwaves slamming into the room. You’re airborne before you register the force, spine colliding with the far wall. The floor rumbles. Screams fracture the air. Debris falls in jagged sheets.

Through the ringing in your ears, you barely register your own voice, telling your students to stay low, to move toward the emergency exit.

But something blocks the way. Its smell hits you before it’s in sight. The Wanderer is close, too close.

You can’t even think. You just act.

With shaking hands, you grab a metal rod from the wreckage, your body moving on instinct. If you can distract it, if you can buy enough time for the hunter unit to arrive, maybe your students will have a chance.

The last thing you remember is the sharp, searing pain as the creature’s energy pulse knocks you to the ground.

The security feeds go dark.

One second, he’s watching you. The next, the screen is static.

His heart stops.

The reports come in, Attack at the school. Heavy damage. Casualties unknown.

He’s on his way out before he can hear anything worse.

Emergency crews swarm the wreckage, voices barking orders over the wail of sirens. The building is half-collapsed, broken steel and shattered glass jutting from the ruins. Smoke rises in thick, choking plumes, staining the early morning sky. His pulse pounds in his ears as he shoves past responders, ignoring shouted warnings. His eyes scan the chaos, searching, and so incredibly desperate.

In the distance, he hears a frantic child’s voice talking to the emergency crew. 
“My teacher is still in there! You have to find her!”

The world tilts. Sound warps and muffles like he was shoved underwater. Someone is still talking, but he can’t process the words. Can’t breathe past the freezing fist closing around his ribs.

He doesn’t wait for the rescue team. He doesn’t trust them to find you fast enough. Not when every second could be the difference between life and, No. He refuses to think it.

Smoke constricts his lungs, dust coats his skin, but none of it matters. Not when you’re still in there. Somewhere beneath this wreckage of a school.

His voice is raw from calling for you, so desperately. He claws through debris, shoving aside broken desks, shattered glass, anything that stands between him and you. His fingers are bleeding, his body screaming, but he won’t stop. Not until-

There. A glimpse of fabric. A hand, too still.

Panic slams into him as he drops to his knees, pulling away chunks of rubble until he reaches you. His hands shake as he presses two fingers to your neck. The longest second of his life. Then, a pulse. Weak but there.

“Hey, I got you,” he breathes, barely able to hear himself over the pounding in his ears. “Stay with me.”

The world is hazy when you wake.

Your head aches, a dull, pulsing pain, but it’s the warmth that you notice first. Caleb, his body pressed close, his breathing quicker than you can remember. His hand is grasping yours, refusing to let you go.

The ground beneath you is rough, uneven. Ash clings to your skin, the air thick with the scent of burnt metal and dust. The ruins of the explosion stretch around you in silhouettes, even the ceiling is caked with dirt.

Your body protests as you try to move, every limb heavy with exhaustion. The shift is small, barely more than a breath, but it’s enough.

Caleb stirs. His grip tightens around you, his arms wrapped protectively as if shielding you from a danger that has already passed. His head snaps up, eyes wild, frantic, like he’s been waiting on the edge of a nightmare.

“She’s alive,” he rasps into the phone, his voice rough with relief. “But she’s hurt. We need evac now.”

You blink sluggishly, your vision swimming, but the warmth of him, solid, grounding, keeps you tethered. His hand still in yours, squeezing gently, reassuring.

“No, she’s conscious, but barely,” he continues, jaw clenched, his voice tight with contained urgency. “I don’t care how, just get here.”

You try to speak, but the words catch in your throat, dry and raw. There’s no telling how much debris you inhaled. He must sense it, because his attention snaps to you instantly, his free hand brushing over your hair, careful, reverent.

“Hey,” he murmurs, softer now, the phone still pressed to his ear. “Stay with me, okay? Help’s coming.”

His thumb strokes lightly over your knuckles. Even through the chaos, even with his voice sharp and commanding as he barks coordinates into the receiver, his touch remains gentle.

“I’ve got you.”

You want to tell him you’re okay. That you’re still here. But all you can do is squeeze his hand back, faint but certain.

His other hand brushes over your hair, careful, reverent, avoiding the bruises and cuts along your temple. There’s something fragile in the way he touches you, like he’s afraid you might break.

"How do you feel?"

You blink, the world still tilting around you, a dull ache thrumming behind your temples. "Like-I got- hit by a spaceship."

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, he huffs out a breathless, almost-laugh, but it’s shaky, frayed at the edges. His fingers tighten slightly around yours, like he’s reassuring himself that you’re still here. That you’re still in this existence with him.

"You almost did."

Memories flood back in fragments, the attack, the students, the Wanderer. You try to sit up, but his hands are there instantly, holding you steady.

“Slow down,” he stutters. “Don’t push yourself.”

“My students, ”

“They’re safe,” he assures you quickly. “You kept them safe.”

You exhale, relief washing over you. But Caleb… he’s still tense. The weight of what he didn’t catch is still heavy on his heart.

"You should quit."

Your eyes snap to his. “Caleb, ”

“You almost died.” His voice is quiet but firm, the words heavy between you. “I swore I’d keep you safe, and I, ” He stops, jaw tightening, his hand curling into a fist at his sides. There’s something so exposing in his expression, something he’s barely holding back. “I don’t want to lose you.”

The words hang between you, fragile and heavy all at once. You reach for his fisted hand, your fingers brushing against his, warm despite the cold bite of the night air.

“I love teaching, Caleb.” Your voice is steady, but there’s a plea woven into it, a truth you need him to understand. “It’s not just a job. It’s who I am meant to be.”

His gaze flickers along the fleeting shadow falling on his face. A shallow breath escapes his lips as his shoulders sag. He watches, helpless, every moment you're out of his reach—able to care for you from a distance, but unable to protect you the way he wants. It's something you love, but it’s a choice he can't bear to see you make.

And maybe that’s what terrifies him most. The thought that he could hate you, if something happened, because it was your choice. But that’s absurd, isn’t it? Because he could never hate you. Not really. Not ever.

"Fine," he mutters. "But what about when we have kids?"

You freeze.

“Kids?” You stare at him, caught completely off guard. “Plural? And soon?”

His lips twitch. "I'm just thinking, "

"You are not just thinking,” you cut in, eyeing him suspiciously. "You mean it."

There’s a beat of silence. Then, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, maybe I do."

Your head is still spinning, from both the injury and this conversation, but you can’t help the small, incredulous laugh that escapes.

“Caleb,” you say, voice softer now, “we’re not there yet.”

He studies you for a long moment, then nods, resigned. "I know." Then, his hand tightens around yours. "But if this is what you love, if this is what you have to do... I’ll do everything I can to keep you doing it."

The weight of his words settles into the depths of your worries. You feel it in the way his fingers tighten around yours, desperate, like you are something fragile, something slipping through the cracks of a broken world. Something he cannot afford to lose.

“That’s all I need,” you murmur, the words small but certain, steady in a way the ground beneath you isn’t.

Around you, the world stirs. The rumble of stone being torn from stone. Voices calling through the dust. The distant wail of sirens, growing closer. The city stitching itself back together, blind to the places where you have come undone.

But here, in this breath, in this narrow space between ruin and rescue, between before and after, there is only Caleb. His arms around you. His breath against your temple. The quiet, steady beat of his heart, as if willing yours to do the same.

[muqingslover]

[ Caleb canonically doing MC's laundry has set something off in my brain so here I am. Also, happy Valentine's day ! here's a longer one as a treat from me ;) I've been posting kinda of non-stop haha ] if you saw me post this before no you didn't

This has happened before. In fact, it had happened a few too many times for his sanity's sake. Whenever Caleb offered to do your laundry to be helpful he always had to deal with the strain in his pants that he pretended wasn't there by covering his lap with a magazine and thinking about literally anything else besides that tantalizing piece of fabric. He's been a good man, or at least he's always tried to be one for you. But was it really his fault if the situation was presented to him with a quite literally adorable little red bow?

Still, he has an admiring amount of self-restraint and for days he told himself he should give them back to you. Every time you two met he kept waiting for the moment to return it, clutching the fabric in his pocket, but all he received were reasons not to. Or perhaps, he just saw what he wanted to see. That's how a week turned into months and then the tortuous years without contact that drove him to the brink of insanity. Fighting back the urge to find you again and do everything his mind has fantasized about countless times was one of the hardest battles he ever faced, and that was saying something.

"Fuck..." He exhaled shakily. His head hit the wall behind him and he spread his legs further on the chair of his private quarters, keeping a firm hand wrapped around the base of his cock. It started after he found the old pair of panties that he had so carefully stored away and now all his mind had to offer were twisted fantasies. Caleb was in biiig trouble— He had to leave in less than fifteen minutes for a meeting and there were security officers constantly passing by his door, but he was past the stage that a simple cold shower and mental math equations would make the issue go away. The images of how the fabric would've adorned your curves in all the right places were soon followed by the memories of how sometimes he'd get a sneak peek when you bent over in front of him and gods that was the sexiest thing he's ever seen.

His metallic hand clutched the delicate fabric tighter as he trapped the lace between his teeth to force down another low groan when his palm began moving up and down again and the faint smell of your soap made his mind feel fuzzy. He was so sensitive that it ached to be touched— He was sure if this was your hand he'd have come on the spot the second your fingers brushed against him. Hell, if you breathed a bit too closely to his cock he'd fall apart like the pathetic man he is and he can only picture how your beautiful face would look covered with his cum. Can you blame him though? He's never even considered doing this with anyone else, nor will he ever do that, and his busy military life didn't leave much space for his own...moments.

He released the lace from his teeth and pressed the red fabric against his swollen tip, accidentally letting out a strained moan that was a bit too loud as his eyes rolled back into his head. He decided to quickly shut himself up by pushing his dog tag into his mouth to bite down on the metal, otherwise everyone outside his room would know just what the colonel was doing. Caleb imagined that the wet line his precum had made was because of your arousal for him instead. The way it would seep through the thin fabric and mark your pussy for him in such a filthy way. The way he'd lick along the damp spot and enjoy each and every sound that he'd surely drag out of your throat while he had your thighs around his head.

His hips jerked as he thrusted himself into his hand, into your panties, into you. The room filled with his barely contained ragged breathing as he hoped your pussy would be as much of a slippery mess as his cock was right now when he pushed past your slit, stretching you open so good yet so agonizingly slow. His grasp around his length was tight when the friction of the thin fabric against his dripping cock sent him over the edge and he came so hard his body twitched non-stop. His dog tag slipped from his lips, dangling around his neck again as he slumped back against the chair after his strength left his body momentarily.

His eyes landed on the red panties that were now coated in his thick, white cum and Caleb raised his hand to bring the messy cloth to his lips. He pushed his tongue out and licked along right at the middle where your soaked cunt would be, tasting his own release and wishing it was yours. It was a shame he had gotten such a pretty and precious thing dirty but, not to worry, he's always been good at cleaning up.

[moraishi]

First Bite Pt.2

Roles: Xaiver, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Caleb, (Mc reader)

Word count: 1k

Prompts: How i think LADS man would react to giving you a bite on their neck to offer their blood to you (Vampire Mc)

Xaiver:

As Xaiver tilted his head back, exposing the smooth expanse of his neck while staring at you with his pretty blue eyes, his casual face wasn’t helping to situation. You can say he is not only doing this to help you but also for his own benefits (sneaky lil prince :D)

Sitting on the couch of his apartment he lead you next to him, holding your hand and pulling you toward to couch. After you sat and leaned a bit closer to his neck. His hand go up to your hair instead of hand.

“Go on. Take what you need.” His voice is low, a bit of teasing… with his best efforts he put a small smile on his face and lean back on the couch, getting all comfortable untill your fangs sink in.

His breath catches with the fast bite. His playful mask shatters for just a second. His fingers tighten in your hair, the feeling of your lil two fang biting his skin felt.. weird, weirdly calming. Tilting his head aside more to let you have a better view. After you let go of him, looking at him a bit worriedly a shaky chuckle escaping him.

“Did you find what you wanted?”He asked as he rub his bite mark, a soft smile appering on his face yet feeling a bit of tired and sleepy after getting sucked on neck.

Would he let you bite him again? “Why not, if you insist.”

Zayne:

His jaw clenches as he sits still, his hands balled into fists. There was a still nervousness in his eyes deep down. You can hear his pulse racing. It all started after seeing you laying on sofa with tired eyes. You forgot to buy more of animal blood bottles of yours so the fridge was empty. And the wrost was your hunger was unbearable. Leaving you starving.. Zayne just couldn’t let you rot like this. So he offered you his own.

“…It’s better for your health, i trust you.” He whispers after setting you on the counter. His voice is barely audible. Leaning closer for you to bite him, his hands on the counter next to your thighs trapping you between his arms. Giving you no choice but to take a bite from his delicious neck.

The second you bite, his entire body shudders. His breath hitches, fingers twitching like he’s fighting his instincts to push you away or pull you closer. A breathy gasp leaving his mouth. Closing his eyes tightly as you suck. When you finally pull back, he exhales, pressing his palm over the wound. He doesn’t speak for a long time and just take a deep breath.

“…Is it always like this?” His voice is unsteady. The hunger in you was something else for him. But it was better than you whining on sofa all the day.

Will he let you take a bite again? “Only if its emergency.”

Rafayel:

His eyes are wide a bit, lips slightly parted. A mix of excitement and nervousness running in his veins. Crossing his arms and quickly tilting his head to right, you can clearly say he is a bit of blushing duo to his red ears. A small pout on his lips making you question if you should bite his neck or his lips first. So you just nod and walked toward him to take your bite. He leaned down a bit before talking.

“Be quick before i change my mind darling.” He uncrossed his arms and grips your wrists, pulling you closer to him. Holding his chuckle after seeing you getting on your tiptoes to reach to his neck. But when you bite, he couldn’t hold the soft gasp as it escapes from his lips quickly. His hands clutch at your waist like seeking for something, his heartbeat wild against your lips as you keep sucking his blood like a craving dog. He just nuzzled his face to your hair to not make anymore noise.

“Oh…” His voice is breathless, almost dazed. When you pull back, he’s still lost in the feeling, staring at you like he’s been reborn. He look at you for a moment before he lean away and a nervous chuckle left his mouth. “That was… something else for sure.”

Would he let you suck on his blood again? “No way.”(Lie.)

Sylus:

He watches you with narrowed eyes, tilting his head slightly. He’s calm, almost too calm for the whole situation. Sitting on his chair with your knee on his stomach pressed hardly. Your hands on his hair as you lick your lips before raising a brow. Still not sure if he was just teasing you or serious about the whole biting thing.

“Hmph. If you want it, take it.” His voice is low, challenging you. Inviting you. To this attitude you leaned even closer and quickly sink your fangs to his neck. Piercing his skin and making his breath hitch. His hand snaps up, gripping your waist as his body reacts before his mind does. Pulling you closer as he rest his eyes close, breath deepened.

When you pull away, he touches the bite wound, chuckling under his breath. “That was supposed to be my role, you know.” He smirks, his bite mark should easily heal like the gunshot but you can say he is going to keep it there on purpose.

Will he let you bite on his neck again? “Try it if you can.”

Caleb:

His expression is soft, full of quiet understanding. He’s always known what you are. And what you starve most.

“Cmon, i know you for more than years. I can see the hunger in your eyes pipsqueak. this will ease it. take as much as you need.” He said with a big smile while pressing you down, his hand tilting your chin and getting closer to you. After seeing you getting closer back to his neck he closes his eyes and let you bite, and when you finally bite his body barely flinching, but his breath stutters for a moment. He dealt with more pain for sure but this was more than a bite, this was almost too intimate to believe.

When you pull back, he reaches up, his fingertips grazing your lips, wiping away a stray drop of his crimson blood. “See? It wasn’t that hard right?” He asks gently. And the worst part? He’d probably let you lose control on him without self respect. How could he let you starve like this otherwise?

Would this biting session repeat again? “Absolutely yes if you need it.”