#LADS

[faintrustle]

LADS developers survived the hardest computer college, only to end up coding CALEB.

[erensfeed]

⠀⠀⠀HEELLLOO WORLD.

⠀Caleb girlies may I ask how you are on this very FINE night?

[nanamiscocksleeve]

My Beloved Boys

Warnings: MDNI, sex, virginity loss, threesome, oral (m rec), clit play, childhood friends to lovers trope. Liberties taken with the timeline, this is not the canon timeline, ages have been changed for story convenience. ANGSTY. A/n: Caleb got me ya'll. I tried, I tried really hard, I promise. And now this is what my ovulating brain has cooked up. Please enjoy it. I know this wasn't on my upcoming but I couldn't help it. Also please note, reader, Caleb, and Zayne are all the same age aka 18 here. Not proofread, expect raw text and descriptions.

It had been a few weeks since you’d joined UNICORNS and Tara invited you over to her place for a girls’ weekend. All of you were comfortably laid out in different parts of her living room, drinking wine and eating slices of pizza from the box.

The night had been fun, and with an entire bottle now empty, the women were loosening up and the topics were getting more and more risque. From complaining about exes to sex, to size measurements, they had finally arrived on the subject of virginity. 

“So, what was your first time like?” All eyes are suddenly fixed on you and you feel self-conscious. Taking a sip of your wine, you try not to flush as you vividly remember all the details like it was yesterday.

“Oh, you know. Awkward. Shy. The usual.” You try to act nonchalant but Tara leans forward with a gleam in her eye. 

“Oh come on! Tell us!”

Looking at the crowd of eager faces, you empty your glass before confessing, “My first time…was with two people.” You wait with bated breath, and slowly, one by one, everyone’s eyes widen with comprehension.

“Excuse me?” Tara squeals and sinks her fingers into your arm. You wince and pry her off.

“A threesome for your first time?” One of the other women joined in, a huge grin on her face. “Did it hurt?”

“Why a threesome? Was it something you fantasized about?”

You shake your head no at all the questions. “No. Growing up, I had two best friends and I loved them dearly. I just…couldn’t choose between them both.” 

“Tell us everything.” Tara sits down on the carpet and all the women gather in a tight circle looking eagerly at you. You sigh and extend your glass.

“Get me more wine.”

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~Flashback~

It was the summer after graduating senior year. You were enjoying what would possibly be the last summer before everyone went their separate ways. Life had been rough for you, losing your family several years earlier. But now, you had a grandmother, and 2 best friends who had been through everything with you. Still, the memories brought back a sense of bittersweet nostalgia. Your nextdoor neighbor Zayne, and your grandmother’s other ward Caleb, were your inseparable companions since you had moved in with Josephine after the devastating wanderer attack that had destroyed most of Linkon City. 

Zayne and Caleb were alike, yet different. Both of them were tall and intelligent. Zayne was stoic and introverted, whereas Caleb was extroverted and easygoing. Somehow, the three of you became a unit, never seen without the other two in tow. Any escapades or shenanigans were always done together. You’d done homework together, fell asleep on the living room floor watching cartoons, and shared many meals in the last few years. The idea of being without them seemed unthinkable. Impossible in fact. You’d assumed you would all stay together in Linkon forever.

That had all changed last year, the summer before your senior year. You had been looking forward to spending the summer with Zayne and Caleb. But as the three of you had sat down at your usual boba tea spot, Zayne became very quiet as you started discussing plans for the summer. 

“What’s wrong with you? Is your tea not cold enough? You can just use your evol right?” Caleb had teased, sipping his drink. He gives Zayne a playful jab and Zayne glares at him, adjusting his glasses that had slipped down his nose. 

“Zayne?” You reach out and cover his hand with yours, hoping he’ll talk. There was a strange expression on his face. “Talk to us.”

“Yeah, Zayne. Talk to us.” Caleb widens his eyes and covers your hand with his. “We’re here for you boy,” he says with a tinge of mockery, making his voice sound high and feminine and you give him a withering look, pulling your hand out of the pile.

Zayne sips his milk tea, then quietly says, “I might not be here for most of the summer.” Caleb and you exchange a look before glancing back at Zayne. 

“What do you mean?”

Zayne looks apologetic like he regrets not sharing this news earlier. “I’ll be touring colleges most of the summer. And my parents decided to make it a road trip.”

“Colleges?” Caleb looked intrigued. “You already started applications?”

“I did. And…several of them have already sent in offers for next fall.” 

“What?!” You’re louder than you had intended to be. Zayne winces and you lower your voice. “You’ve already received acceptance letters and didn’t bother telling us?” 

“I’m sorry.” Zayne holds up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I just didn’t know how to bring it up. Neither of you had mentioned college and I didn’t want to talk about it if you weren’t ready.”

“But Zaynie!” Caleb puts a hand on his chest looking wounded. “We’re a family bro! Why wouldn’t you tell us?”

Zayne shakes his head and drinks his tea. You’re about to as well when realization washes over you. “Wait. You said you had several acceptance letters.”

“I do.”

“Well, where are they? You’re staying in Linkon right?” You ask, and for some reason, your heartbeat is increasing. You wait for Zayne to say, of course, one of them is in Linkon and that’s his first choice. 

“I did receive an offer from Linkon Medical University. However…there are better programs.”

“Really? So you might move for college?” Caleb regards Zayne passively. 

“It’s not out of the question.”

An unnatural silence falls at the table as the three of you drink your teas. This was wonderful news for Zayne. You were happy for him, but inside, it felt like your heart had been tied into a painful knot. You knew Zayne was the smartest of your group and that he was destined to be a doctor. But you hadn’t even thought it would mean Zayne might not be in Linkon City anymore. From a professional standpoint, it made sense. He deserved to go to the best college. But it left you feeling hollow like his impending departure had fractured the carefully crafted life you’d built since you’d been taken in by your grandmother. 

“When are you leaving?” Caleb breaks the silence and you’re relieved. 

“Sometime in July.”

“Oh, great! We still have a month then.”

“Well…”

Caleb’s eyebrows knit together in dismay. “What?”

“I have some extra classes I need to take. I’m hoping to get a head start on the pre-med requisites.”

“So, you’re going to be in school all of June?” You try to hide your disappointment. 

Zayne sighs. “Unfortunately. I’ll still be around. We can make time to hang out.” 

You nod unenthusiastically, then hiss as you feel Caleb step on your foot under the table. His purple eyes give you a sharp glance and he gestures towards Zayne and you realize this wasn’t about you; Zayne had shared news that he knew would affect your dynamic but had done so thinking he would have the support of his friends. Caleb reminding you of your manners was humbling and you lowered your gaze.

“I’m really happy for you Zayne.” You murmur, then rearrange your features into what you hoped was a pleasant look of approval. “Congratulations.”

Zayne’s eyes seem to lighten at your appreciation. “Thank you. It took me by surprise actually.”

“Seriously Zaynie. That’s really impressive. So we’re gonna have a doctor amongst us. Hey, you better give us the good drugs if we ever come to you.” Caleb pats Zayne on the shoulder in an acclamatory fashion. Zayne’s demeanor visibly relaxes and you try to keep up a happy face for the rest of the evening.

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

The sun was starting to set by the time you got home, the lazy streaks of tangerine painting the sky vivid shades of pink and orange. There was a feeling of uneasiness in your stomach as you changed into pajamas and brushed your teeth. It had taken years for you to get some semblance of a family, and now someone was going away. AGAIN.

You try to reassure yourself that this wasn’t the same thing. Zayne might be going away for college but it wasn’t until next year. You still had your senior year left to build some precious final memories. Somehow, he seemed older all of a sudden, like he had become an adult within a few hours of telling you about his acceptance letters. You knew you’d be going to college too but hadn’t given much thought about any of it. After the Linkon City disaster, you had decided you didn’t want to wander too far away. You didn’t want to leave Grandma Josephine all by herself. Although Zayne seemed to have made up his mind about attending a college somewhere else, you reminded yourself that you still had Caleb. 

Caleb hadn’t talked about college much, but you knew he wanted to attend. He didn’t know what he would major in, but he was naturally gifted in mechanics. You assumed he would be an engineer or something similar. He and Zayne had inherited the math skills, and you’d managed to get a decent grade by studying with them, or rather, getting bullied by them, with Zayne trying not to snap explaining how he got the answer versus Caleb taunting you saying you’d never graduate high school if you were this stupid. It was then you had decided perhaps a career in science wasn’t for you. But perhaps something in the arts, or communications. Perhaps languages. You wondered if maybe you were kidding yourself by not already sending out applications, or at the very least, making a list of where you’d like to attend.

Restless and unable to turn off your mind, you go next door to Caleb’s room and knock.

“Enter at your own risk!”

Rolling your eyes, you walk in and see Caleb sprawled out on his bed, holding his Switch over his head as he gamed.  “Oh, pipsqueak. It’s you.”

You sit on the edge of his bed, fiddling with the corner of the quilt as he continues to play. As you waited, you looked up at the ceiling, where little airplane models, all built by Caleb’s own hands, had been carefully strung up using fish wire and hooks. Little glow-in-the-dark stars littered the spaces in between. You sigh and draw your knees up to your chest, wondering what would happen to the models if he left for college.

Noticing your morose expression, Caleb exits the game and sits upright. “What’s the matter with you?” 

You shake your head and squeeze the bridge of your nose. “It’s Zayne. Did you know he had already applied to colleges?”

“No.” Caleb leans on his bed assessing you. “But I’m not surprised. And he has a point.”

“Which is?”

“Colleges are really competitive these days. Like even with excellent grades and extracurriculars, some people still have to take a gap year because they didn’t get in or they got put on a waiting list.”

You consider his words. “Do you think we should be applying too?”

“If we were smarter, we’d have already applied.” Caleb runs a hand over his face. “But it’s ok. We have the whole summer to plan. I think applications reopen sometime over winter break. We can apply then. You know, like normal students, and not nerds like Zayne.”

You laugh weakly, giving Caleb a reprimanding look. “That’s not a nice thing to say about our friend.”

“He’s not around is he? Anyway. Don’t fret pipsqueak. You’ll get in somewhere too.”

“You’ll stay close to Linkon right?” You lean closer to Caleb, your eyes boring into his. “We can’t leave grandma by herself.”

“Of course. Don’t worry.” Caleb puts an arm around your shoulders and pulls you towards him. Your head rests on his shoulder as he traces circles into your arm. The action is comforting and familiar, and a sense of calm washes over you. 

“I don’t like it when people leave.” You confess quietly and Caleb sighs.

“I know. You used to cry all the time when you first came here. You cried when grandma left to get groceries. You cried when I left for soccer practice. You cried when it was time for Zayne to go home. Honestly,” he smirks and pinches you, making you yip in surprise. “You’re such a crybaby that I’m surprised you want to attend college at all. You know you’re gonna have to live with strangers in the dorm right? Are you gonna cry into your little bear plushie?”

He grins and dodges a blow from you, a bark of laughter escaping him as you try to roughhouse. He indulges you for two missed attempts then leaps and pins you to the mattress. You squirm and shriek under him, trying to escape as he tickles you relentlessly.

“Caleb! Caleb stop!” There are tears in your eyes from the hilarity of the situation.

“Aw, are you gonna cry when you’re being tickled now too? Crybaby crybaby!” Caleb continues to mock you before you pull a dirty move; you angle your knee against his crotch and grin as you instantly feel him go still.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Caleb’s breathing has stilled, and he’s warily looking down at you as you prepare to play your trump card. 

“I’ve done it before and won’t hesitate to do it again.” Knowing you had him in the palm of your hand, you look him deadpan in the eye.

“Get off.” Caleb complies immediately and you sigh, trying to calm your unsteady heart.

“You’re really heartless sometimes ya know?” Caleb’s voice is heard near your head and you turn to face him.

“I had to learn.”

A moment of peace falls between you both and Caleb softly cups your cheek. “Everything will be ok. I promise. You won’t be left behind. You’ll always have a family. We’ll never be too far away from you.” 

“You’d better not.” You huff and suddenly feel exhausted. “Caleb?”

“You can stay here tonight.”

“I didn’t-”

“I already knew. I knew from the second Zayne said he’s not going to be around this summer.” Caleb shifts and pulls you under his quilt. You bury your nose into his chest and close your eyes.

“This doesn’t mean I’m not independent.” You quip and a rumble emanates from Caleb’s chest.

“Of course not pipsqueak. Miss independent.” He strokes your hair and your eyelids grow heavy. Caleb tucks your head under his chin. “But you can be as dependent on me as you want.” Those are the last words you hear before falling into a deep slumber.

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

You barely see Zayne for the next few weeks. His classes kept him busy and he always had homework. Caleb had suddenly become secretive after the night you’d spent in his room though he kept reassuring you that he was fine. You sulk as you watch TV by yourself, Caleb having locked himself in his room again. You wondered what had made him behave so differently. The last few times you’d tried to talk to him, he’d unceremoniously shoved you back out. 

“Boys need their privacy sometimes,” Grandma had reassured you, noticing the way you were glowering at the TV. “Would you like to help me run errands?” 

Josephine's list wasn’t terribly exciting, but you were still bitter from being snubbed by Caleb, so you went anyway. Several hours later, you return feeling accomplished. Just as you’re about to help Josephine put away the groceries, you hear footsteps on the stairs and Caleb finally makes an entrance. 

“Oh look at that! Our groundhog has made a rare appearance!” Josephine teases as Caleb grins sheepishly. 

“Ooh, apples!” He says zealously seeing you unbag the bright red fruits. As he’s about to grab one you smack his hand and he withdraws with a yelp. 

“What was that for?” He rubs his hand looking offended. 

“Only people who helped buy the groceries are entitled to eat them.” You put them away neatly into the fruit basket on the counter, refusing to look at Caleb. With Zayne being awol you had thought Caleb would be a little more sensitive towards you and you were still quite annoyed at his lack of consideration. Caleb huffs, then hoists himself onto the kitchen counter, his long legs dangling off the edge.

“What were you doing all this while anyway?” Josephine asks as she puts away more groceries. “Summer vacation usually means I can’t get a hold of you two even if I needed to. I thought you were planning to go to the beach? Play volleyball with some of your friends?”

“Yeah, and we will. Even if this little gremlin is mad at me.” Caleb hesitantly looks at you, hoping you’d simmered down but you shoot daggers at him and he shakes his head. “I need to talk to you both.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. You turn to look at him but Caleb’s eyes are fixated on Josephine, who’s looking curious. 

“What is it? Nothing serious I hope?” The old woman sits down at the kitchen table. 

“No, it’s not serious. But. It’s kind of sudden.” Caleb’s refusal to make eye contact with you was now starting to scare you. “Grandma, we told you about Zayne and him already getting ready for college right?”

“You did. I always knew Zayne would excel at whatever he put his mind to. Clever boy that one.”

“Well, his news was sort of a wake-up call for me. What I was doing all these days was looking at colleges, and I think I know what I want to do.”

The evening summer sunlight falls charmingly on Caleb’s face, illuminating his smooth skin, the dark hair falling elegantly into his eyes and for a moment, you feel the same sensation you had felt after Zayne had told you about college. You heart was already twisting into nervous knots, and you waited with bated breath as Caleb continued. 

“I’ve decided I want to be a pilot.” His eyes are lit up with ambition as he says the words. Josephine cups her cheeks with her hands, a smile growing on her wrinkled face.

“That’s wonderful Caleb! I’m very happy for you.”

“Yeah. And. There’s something else I found out while doing my research.” Josephine immediately leans forward attentively. You listen quietly, but you can’t help but feel a slight sense of betrayal. Why would Caleb need to hide this from you? It wasn’t a secret that he wanted to go to college, and he loved talking about planes and jets. You felt like there was a piece he was hiding, saving it for fear of losing their attention. 

“The Deepspace Aviation Administration has an apprenticeship-based degree which guarantees I’d graduate as a pilot. It’s a degree in Aviation Engineering. Grandma.” Caleb’s voice has softened, and he looks at her beseechingly.“They’re offering a month-long crash camp this summer. A lot of the students that go have better chances of making it into the program. There’s one slot left. Can I please go?”

There it was. That’s what he’d been hiding. A month. Without Caleb. Silently, you resume unpacking the groceries, turning your back to Caleb as you do so. Josephine’s face was lined with delight. 

“Oh, Caleb! I’m so happy you’ve figured this out. Of course, you can go!” She rises from her seat and makes her way to Caleb who slips off the counter to hug her. She barely came up to his waist but she’s brimming with pride. 

“Go fill out the application before someone else gets it! Go!” She slapped him on the back and Caleb, looking like he’d just been told he’d won the lottery, sprinted back upstairs. Silence fills the small kitchen. Pretending to act normal, you start gathering ingredients to prepare dinner.

“Annoying loser.” You mutter under your breath. “He hasn’t even offered to help cook dinner the last few days.” You feel a hand on your shoulder and turn to see Josephine standing right behind you. 

“It’s ok to be upset.”

“I’m not upset.” You start washing the potatoes at the sink. Josephine sighs, then wraps her arms around your waist, giving you a gentle hug.

“Take your time. You know where to find me if you want to talk.” The woman hobbles out of the kitchen, and you put the washed potatoes on a cutting board. Your hand trembles as you pick up the knife, and the backs of your eyes feel hot and prickly. You didn’t understand why you felt like this. It was just a month. Caleb hadn’t applied for college yet. And even if he ended up at Deepspace Aviation it wasn’t too far away. But why did you feel like you were being left behind? Like everyone had their future planned but you? And none of their plans seemed to involve you at all?

You angle your knife to slice the potatoes, then let out a frustrated huff; memories of being a little girl, while Caleb held your hand in his as he taught you how to quickly dice your vegetables, patting your head with praise as he did so. You weren’t quite sure why potatoes were making you feel this way. Unbidden, a tear rolls down your cheek and you dash it away with your finger.

“Didn’t even offer to help with dinner.” More tears stream down your face and you let out a quiet sob. 

“There’s no one to help me make dinner.”

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

“C’mon pipsqueak, at least say goodbye to me!” 

Caleb was standing at the door, ready to leave for camp. You stood, arms crossed, refusing to speak to him. Josephine softly gives you a push.

“Go on now. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

“No, I won’t. Besides he’ll be back in a month. It’s not like he’s staying there forever. Like they’d let him. They’ll probably call us begging to to take him back within a week.” Your snarky attitude hadn’t improved since he’d announced his acceptance. 

Josephine looks at Caleb and shakes her head helplessly. She’d attempted to ameliorate your temper for the last 2 weeks and had gotten nowhere. You had avoided Caleb altogether, even when he’d come knocking on your door to talk. There was a vindictive satisfaction in knowing that your ignoring him was bothering him. A little taste of his own medicine. Didn’t feel so good to be shut off from your best friend now, did it? The thought made your lip curl even as your stomach churned from the knowledge that you would be by yourself for the next month. 

Caleb checks his watch and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m getting late. Pipsqueak please.” Caleb opens his arms, giving you the most apologetic look he could muster. “Come say goodbye.”

You stood firm, even though every fiber in your being was burning to leap into his arms and hug him tight. 

“The bus won’t wait forever.” Caleb quickly strides towards you and before you can step away he’s wrapped his arms around you, and you’re stuck in his embrace. Tears form in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. Your arms remain stiff at your sides even as Caleb continues to hunch, silently bidding you farewell. When he finally lets go, he ruffles your hair. “I’ll see you next month. You can always reach me on my phone.” With a final wave, Caleb sprints out the door to board the bus.

You spend the day coming up with various ways to kill the time but nothing works. Video games felt lackluster and your mind refused to engage with the book you tried reading. For dinner, Josephine ordered burgers from your favorite restaurant to try and cheer you up. You sat quietly, unable to savor the food. Finally, before bedtime, you cave. Anything was better than this crushing, empty feeling in your stomach. You walk into Caleb’s room, and curl up under his quilt, inhaling the familiar scent. It was hard to believe he had been there just a few hours earlier, and you hugged his pillow, regretting your earlier actions. You pull out your phone and make a video call.

“Pipsqueak! Miss me already?” Caleb grins widely at you. The background is filled with activity, filled with high school students wandering around and acquainting themselves. 

“Shut up.” You say but your voice quivers. “Caleb I’m sorry.”

Caleb’s eyes soften. “It’s ok. You don’t have to be.”

“But I was so mean to you.”

“Yeah, you were. But what can I say? How can I be mad at my family?” His words break the shield you’d built around yourself and you sniffle, letting the tears fall. 

“Please don’t cry all over my pillow. It’ll get soggy.” Caleb tries to joke but your tears are eating away at him. He knew what this would do to you, which is why he hadn’t told you his plans before they were solid. “I’ll be back before you know it. Be good for grandma ok?”

You nod, a lump forming in your throat. “I miss you, Caleb.”

“I miss you too. Please don’t be miserable the whole time I’m gone. Try to focus on things important to you too. Maybe make your list of colleges.”

“Yeah. I will.” You wipe away your tears. “Will you make dumplings for me when you come back?”

“Is that all I was good for?” Caleb asks in an offended tone but he’s grinning. “Yeah I will. I promise. Now go to sleep.”

He hangs up and you find the knot in your heart has loosened slightly. Caleb was right. You needed to focus on you. You turn over and are about to go to sleep when a text lights up your screen.

“Ice cream tomorrow?”

It was from Zayne. You smile. They’d never really leave you all alone. You text him a yes and fall asleep contentedly.

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

“How are you feeling with Caleb gone?”

You’re seated across from Zayne with a huge banana split sitting on the table between you. You twirl the spoon between your fingers, thinking.

“It’s strange. I miss him of course. The house feels empty.” You sample some of the ice cream. “It’s even emptier without you.”

Zayne looks guilty as he also takes a bite of the sundae. “I’m sorry. I know it must seem strange given how much time we all spent together. Believe me, if I had known Caleb wasn’t going to be here I would have put in more effort to check in on you.”

“It’s not your fault.” You lay down your spoon, contemplating. Zayne cocks his head.

“Something on your mind?”

You twitch your mouth to the side and try to explain. “Well, I recently realized I seem to have a problem with being by myself. And I’m trying to change that.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because. It’s illogical for me to think I’ll always have you or Caleb or grandma around. I know a lot of it stems from losing my parents. But I can’t be this way every time I have to be away from you guys.” You stab the spoon into the mound of whipped cream at the top of the ice cream. “We’re all going to college next year, and we might go months without seeing each other. I’m trying to be more independent and in control of my feelings. Otherwise, how am I supposed to survive?”

Zayne nods emphatically as you speak. “That’s a very rational way of thinking. However, I don’t think I can fault you for not wanting any of us to move away.”

“Really?” You carefully fish out a cherry from the top of one of the ice cream scoops. 

“Of course. It’s natural to want to stay close to the people who have been a constant in your life.” Zayne glances away from you before continuing. “My parents are doctors. They’re busy most of the time. I work around their schedule. But I’m always more relaxed when one of them is at home. It’s natural to want to be around one’s family. Your feelings are completely natural.”

You let out a breath and laugh. “Well geez Dr. Zayne,” you tease. “Thank you for the psychological assessment.” 

“Anytime.” He offers you a wry smile. “But I think it’s good you’re taking the initiative to adapt. The most successful people aren’t the smartest, but the most adaptable.”

“Oh? So am I smarter than you?”

“Hardly,” Zayne smirks as you pout, “I happen to be both.”

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

Now here you were, senior year finished, the summer that you had hoped would take its time in arriving sitting at your doorstep like a lost puppy begging to be let in. You had opened a window and a cool breeze was blowing past your face. You look out at the neighborhood of Bloomshore, remembering how intimidating it had looked when you first moved here, and now how you could never imagine leaving.

Zayne had returned from his road trip the past summer with a million photos and tales from each city he had visited with his parents. He’d brought back snacks and small trinkets from each place, and every few days, you’d find a postcard from him in the mailbox. You’d saved each one and put them away into a little keepsake box. When he had finally come over after his trip, Josephine had almost giggled herself silly because Zayne had tanned so much during his absence; a lighter ring had formed around his eyes like a raccoon where the sunglasses had perched. You’d laughed when you saw him, and Zayne had merely shook his head in exasperation. 

Caleb had returned from camp with a whole new attitude towards his future. He seemed more confident, and couldn’t stop talking about engines and how being in a cockpit felt.  Being the extrovert he was, he’d also come back with many new friends, some of whom lived just a few blocks from your house. You had initially disliked these new friends because it intensified the feeling that you had been replaced. Until one of them had mentioned that Caleb always looked at your picture before he fell asleep at night. Caleb had acted nonchalant but a dusting of pink had appeared on his face at the remark. 

As you had predicted, Zayne had settled on and formally accepted an offer from one of the colleges. He had decided to attend a prestigious medical university at Snowcrest, a city that you knew was near the Arctic, frigidly cold, with short and mild summers. Although not impossibly far, it was still a long journey to reach Snowcrest, and you had felt some of the hope that was in your chest being crushed. Reminding yourself that you were trying to become a more assertive, independent woman, you had heartily congratulated Zayne while Caleb had teased that it was because Zayne would melt if he continued living in the temperate climate of Linkon City. 

Caleb had immediately applied for the program at Deepspace Aviation Administration after coming back and was accepted into their engineering program, news he had received over winter break. You could still remember him dancing around his pajamas early in the morning after reading the email on his phone. He’d barged into your room, startling you from your deep slumber, and scooped you out of bed, spinning you around in his arms as he exuberantly announced his acceptance. Josephine had woken up from the ruckus, making her way up the stairs to investigate, and when she had reached your room, Caleb had tossed you back on your bed before picking up Josephine too, giving a quick circle that lifted her off her feet before carefully putting her back down. They found him baking shortly after; Caleb baked when he was happy. 

Although you had applied to your fair share of colleges, you didn’t hear back until spring, and you had sighed in relief when you saw the acceptance letter from Linkon University. It was exactly as you’d hoped. Even though Caleb would need to move to Skyhaven, it was still closer than Snowcrest, meaning you could see him every month if you wanted to. 

There was still time before everyone went their separate ways. You knew that yet it felt like time had fallen into a strange vacuum where nothing was happening yet everything was happening all at once. Sometimes your pulse started to skyrocket for no reason at all. Thinking about college made you anxious just as it made you excited. New people, new challenges, the classes, getting lost on campus, all these thoughts swirled in your head like a snow globe being violently shaken. 

You knew you’d make friends but there was a pang at the thought of not seeing your best friends. Suddenly it felt like you had taken all these past years for granted. You found yourself reminiscing over small aspects of your friendships with both boys. Like the time you’d turned down Zayne to go to the movies because it was a documentary, or when Caleb had asked for help to paint a model airplane and you’d refused because it was the third model that week. These minor indiscretions now felt like heavy bags of guilt weighing on your conscious. 

Perhaps this is why you were all being separated now, you think self-deprecatingly. You had always thought you had forever with them and hadn’t spent enough time with them when they’d asked you. Now you didn’t know when you’d see them next. 

A knock on your door disrupts your thoughts and you turn to see Caleb standing there. 

“Ready to go?”

“Where?” you ask blankly.

Caleb gives you a questioning look. “To Zayne’s house. He got that new game and asked us to come over remember?”

It takes you a moment to recall, then you put a hand to your forehead. “Yeah, that’s right. I forgot.” You look down at your clothes and decide it’s not worth changing. It was hot outside, and it was Zayne’s house; he’d seen you in rattier things than the denim shorts and T-shirt you were currently wearing. You follow Caleb out of the house, the summer breeze whipping your faces as you walk. Caleb seemed content to walk in silence and after a few yards, you catch hold of his wrist, slowing down his pace.

“Everything ok?” He peers down at you and you nod yes. 

“Caleb. I’m sorry for all those times I refused to paint model airplanes with you.”

“What?” There’s levity in Caleb’s voice. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about those model airplanes you built. You asked me to paint them with you and I always found excuses to avoid it. And now I don’t know when we’ll do something like that again.”

Understanding fills Caleb’s expression and he frees his wrist so he can drape his arm over your shoulders. “You’re thinking too much again.”

“Am not.”

“Sure you are. We’re officially done with high school. You’ve been tweaking out about this since last year. How many times do I have to tell you, it’s going to be ok. And it’s not like we’re depending on carrier pigeons to communicate. Text me, call me, a million times a day if you want to. I’ll always reply.”

The feeling of his warm arm on the back of your neck makes you want to pull him into a hug right now. Caleb and Zayne were so different than most boys their age. Neither of them made you regret expressing vulnerability in front of them. You wondered if they would meet someone when they went to college. Zayne would probably get swept off his feet by another medical student. And Caleb…Caleb exuded such candid energy that girls were always drawn to him. The thought made you uncomfortable for some reason and you push it out of your head.

“If this apologizing thing is gonna continue, then please don’t apologize to Zayne for that day I used my evol to hurl snowballs at him through his window.” 

You burst out laughing at the memory, Caleb’s gravity control effortlessly pitching snowballs into Zayne’s room while you kept watch for the grown-ups. “We ended up drenching his sheets that day,” you say in a sober voice. “I do feel kind of bad now.”

“What’s a little prank between friends hmm pipsqueak? Like that time Zayne and I let that possum into your room.”

“That was you two?!” You jerk back and Caleb doubles over, cackling. “I screamed so loudly that the poor possum keeled over playing dead! But I thought it had really died and I had killed it! Grandma had to put it outside and then showed me how it got up before I stopped crying!” 

Caleb had tears in his eyes as you indignantly frowned at him. “I hate you,” you muttered and continued down the road towards Zayne’s house. Caleb jogs to catch up with you.

“You don’t hate us pipsqueak. You’re going to remember all of this and be reminded that, despite everything, you had a good childhood.” Caleb puts his hand on your head. “I know I will.”

You roll your eyes and keep quiet but know that he was right. 

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

Several rounds of Mario Kart later, the three of you are sprawled out on the floor in Zayne’s room. Both his parents were on-call that night and were working at the hospital. 

“There’s pizza for dinner,” Zayne says lazily as he gazes at the last few rays of the disappearing sun. Although it was well past dinner time, none of you felt hungry. There was something sweet about the calmness of this moment, and no one seemed willing to break it to go down to the kitchen. You’re in between both boys staring at the ceiling fan which was rotating in a hypnotizingly soothing way. The soft whir of the blades was making you drowsy. 

“When I was at camp, there were helicopters with blades like 50 times that size. The military choppers are huge.” Caleb says in a relaxed voice. “Can’t believe I’m going to be piloting those things in my third year.”

“Third year? Not after you graduate?” Zayne asks as the sunlight reflects in his amber-green eyes. 

“Nah. They start showing us flight basics in the third year. That way we can take the exam in the final year and we’re good to fly right after graduation.”

Zayne hums contemplatingly at the explanation.

“I’m guessing you won’t perform your first operation for another 10 years or so right?” you ask, enjoying the camaraderie. 

“They start you off with simple procedures that are low risk. But I want to be a cardiologist. Ten years might not be a bad estimate.” Zayne turns onto his side so that he can look at you. “Do you know what you want to do after graduating college?”

“I just graduated high school. I’ll figure it out along the way. Not everyone has answers about their long-term careers like you guys do.” Zayne gives you a small smile and you chuckle. 

“Do you guys remember the summer right after I first moved in?”

“Yeah. We were 6 years old. Why?” Zayne asks. 

“Remember I wanted it to snow because it was too hot at the time?”

“Oh yeah. Zayne and I came up with a little trick there didn’t we?” Caleb also rolls to his side and props himself on his elbow. Fondness is etched all over his face at the memory.

“I think I’ll tell that story everywhere I go.” You gaze nostalgically at the ceiling. “My two best friends literally made it snow for me.”

“It was the first time we tested our evols together,” Zayne says reminiscingly. He looks over at Caleb. “Want to do it again?”

“What do you think pipsqueak? Will it make you happy?”

You close your eyes. “It would. If you don’t mind snowflakes falling all over your carpet Zayne.”

“The heat should melt them before they touch the floor.”

The two boys look at each other, and then Zayne extends his palms toward the ceiling. Soft flakes of snow start to form on his palms, and then Caleb points a finger toward Zayne. The snowflakes lose their gravity, delicately floating into the air, and dancing near the ceiling. Both of them hold their evol until the air is filled with them.

“Ready?” Caleb asks, and you can feel joy radiating from him. 

“Ready!”

Caleb disengages his evol and the snowflakes make their way back to earth, melting away as they do so. Even at this age, it was still magical, and you feel a sudden constriction in your throat.

“I’ll miss you guys,” you murmur, then hold their hands as the remaining snow starts to fall around the three of you. 

“We’ll do this for you whenever we meet,” Zayne says solemnly, observing your expression. You sniff and smile, your eyes overbright. You turn and find yourself face-to-face with Zayne. You hadn’t realized he was so close, and you can see the surprise in his eyes. The world seems to stop spinning, frozen in the moment. In the blink of an eye, without thinking, you lean forward and clumsily press your lips to Zayne’s. 

You weren’t sure what you were thinking, but all you knew was that words weren’t enough to describe how much you’d miss him. When you lean back, Zayne’s eyes are wide but he doesn’t look displeased. You reach out to pat his cheek.

“I’ll miss you.”

You hear shuffling on the carpet and suddenly feel warmth against your back as Caleb presses his body against yours. This wasn’t an alien reaction to you; You and Caleb cuddled all the time, even slept in the same bed from time to time since you were kids. But somehow, his breath on the back of your neck was telling you this was different. You feel Caleb’s lips press a soft kiss to your nape and you jerk at the sensation, trying to look at him over your shoulder.

“I’ll miss you too my little one,” Caleb whispers, tipping your face to his by your chin. Enamored by the tenderness of his gaze, you allow him to give you a chaste kiss, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling.

Your heart races as you become aware that you are sandwiched between Caleb and Zayne, and neither one is moving away. Instead, strong arms, one from each of them, come over your waist, effectively holding you into place.

“Are you ok with this?” Zayne murmurs into your ear. “Us showing you that we’ll miss you?” Your eyes squeeze closed as you realize you have just experienced your first kiss. Correction. Kisses. Your face turns red under their watchful gazes but right now, you were consumed with the idea of being in this moment for as long as you could.

“Yes.” You whisper the word out loud. 

Hearing your breathless consent, both of them move impossibly closer, and you gasp as you feel Caleb softly kiss your ear. “Tell us if you want to stop.” His warm breath tickles the sensitive skin and you squirm. 

 Zayne strokes your arm and it sends tingles down your spine. You feel yourself going light-headed at their touch. They feel safe, and your mind enters into a state of connection. You can hear their heartbeats, the low, masculine sighs welling up from their throats as their hands gently explore the contours of your body over your clothes. 

Your legs were the most exposed part of you, the shorts having ridden up from all the movement playing video games, and rolling around on the carpet. It’s Zayne who boldly touches your knee first, sending a jitter of electricity up into your core. The blood rushes to your ears, and you almost jump as Caleb chuckles before sinking his teeth into one of the lobes. The little nip was unfamiliar, but it felt good and your hand grips the front of Zayne’s T-shirt as the minor sting passes.

“Are you feeling hot?” Caleb moves some hair away from your shoulder to kiss and lick the crook of your neck. “Your ears are so red right now.” His words cause you to flush. Your skin felt uncomfortably warm, and your heart was pounding inside your chest as their hands stroked every inch of you. A strange throb was beginning to make itself present between your legs now; it was in time to your heartbeat, as though your sex had developed a rapid pulse of its own. You move to try and get comfortable and your panties chafe against your folds. 

“What is it? Zayne sneaks his hand over your waist and onto your back, his head leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I feel…” your voice trails as you struggle to find words to describe it. “Light. But also…strained? Like I’m hot everywhere. And tingly.” You knew you must have sounded ridiculous but Zayne gives a comforting pat on the small of your back. 

“Arousal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair away from your face. “All the signs point to that. According to my pre-med textbooks anyway.” 

“Oh…” 

Arousal. 

You’d learned that word in biology but you had never thought about what the implications of it would be in the real world. Zayne peppers your face with small kisses and your eyes flutter shut as they reach your cheeks, your chin, the tip of your nose, and then finally your lips. He hovers uncertainly for a second before he does so, and it feels like a little light has been ignited inside of you. His lips were soft, warm, and unparted. Gaining courage, and your curiosity getting the better of you, you open your mouth and hear a groan issue from Zayne. Experimentally you give him your tongue, exploring the crevices of his mouth, and feel a delicious, liquidy pull, in your lower abdomen. Excitement pulses through your body as Zayne’s tongue timidly touches yours, participating in the erotic dance as you kiss. 

Caleb has now left kisses all over your neck and shoulders, and you can feel his hands starting to grow mischievous and he walks them along the front of your collarbone, starting to stroke down on the swells of flesh under your Tshirt but not daring to cup them completely.

You and Zayne part and his eyes are smoldering, green embers growing in the irises. “I don’t want to continue this on the floor.” 

Your brain is in a haze and it takes a second for you to register what he had said, and you hasten to move, but are prevented from doing so as Caleb hooks his arms under your upper body, and Zayne gently cradles your legs from the knees below. They lovingly move you to the bed and resume their positions on either side of you.

The softness of the bed is alluring, and all of you sink into it, you feel their hands flirting with the edge of your T-shirt. Feeling shy, you glance up at them and raise your arms. Taking your cue, Zayne pulls off the garment, then he and Caleb follow suit, discarding their shirts with yours. You drink in the sight of their bare upper bodies. You had seen them half-naked before when you’d gone to the pool and the beach with them, seen their bodies wet with water and sweat. But the longing and hunger in their eyes as they looked at you made it feel like you were seeing them differently; now as men rather than childhood companions. 

Goosebumps form over your skin as your upper half is exposed to them, and you tentatively reach out to put a hand on each of their chests. They tremble at your touch, and the knowledge emboldens you, knowing they were as affected by you as you were by them. The direct skin-on-skin contact was soothing, their warm, firm bodies pressing up against your softness. Caleb traces a finger along the inner crease of your cleavage, then looks at you for permission. You nod, curving towards him so he can unhook your bra. A mixture of nervous excitement fills you as the small piece of fabric slips off your body and you quickly cling to Caleb, hiding your breasts from view. 

He strokes your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’s ok my little one. I’m sure you’re beautiful.” 

You feel a persistent ache in your breasts and press up against Caleb’s hard chest, surprised at how the ache lessens as you do so. Caleb lets out a low, guttural groan, and at the same time, Zayne closes in to kiss down your back, licking random little lines on your skin that have you pressing deeper into Caleb’s body. You gasp and wriggle in surprise as Zayne bites down on the curve of your waist, then soothes the bite with his thumb.

“Won’t you let us see you?” Zayne’s deep voice requests you, and feeling like you’d burst into flames from the embarrassment, you finally let go of Caleb and lie back on the bed, covering your eyes with your hands as you do so. You hear their collective breaths being drawn as they take in the view of your soft breasts, the nipples hard from their affections. 

“How cute,” you hear Caleb growl. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel your breasts being cupped and squeezed, and then suddenly, light floods your vision as Caleb tugs your hand away from your eyes.

“Aw look at you. You’re blushing.” He teases but it’s said with gentleness. Zayne watches your expressions intently, and you let out a moan of pleasure as they continue to play with your breasts. 

“Are you enjoying it?” Zayne’s voice cuts through the buzz in your head and you nod, a heady twirl of sensation shooting up your spine. Your toes curl into the mattress as they mindfully pull your nipples, feeling your arousal grow as they do so. You nod breathlessly at Zayne’s question and feel an urgent pulsing between your legs. You’re desperate to touch and relieve yourself. You were no stranger to pleasuring yourself after all but could you do it with these two watching?

The thought sends an arrow of lust straight into the deepest depths of your core. You’re about to speak up but all that comes out is a noise of desire as Caleb licks your nipple, savoring the taste of your skin before suckling the little bud into his mouth. Zayne repeats the action on the other side and you feel like you can’t catch your breath, each soft suck sending you into a dizzying spiral. You feel like nothing is solid under you like you’re floating on a cloud, where the only thing that existed was the sweet stimulation of their mouths on your body. You try to discreetly rub your aching clit against your panties, the barely there friction making you feel like you might go insane. 

You shiver as Caleb releases your moistened peak, caressing your hair and kissing his way down to your navel. Both their large hands stroke the length of your legs, intensifying the need building inside your core. Your nails sink into the covers as you quiver under their touch. 

“Feeling ok?” Zayne cups your cheek as he notices your tension. You crack your eyes open and nod.

“I feel hot. I need…I need to…” You blush as you try to form the words.

“What?” Caleb prompts you and moves back up to take your hands, stroking your palms. “Tell us.”

I need…more…” you manage to say, then gasp as Zayne ghosts your belly button before his hand dips below the waistband of your shorts. Your breath hitches as he strokes the soaked gusset of your panties, just a few inches shy of your clit.

“Show us.” Caleb catches your lips in an unexpected kiss. 

Zayne’s hand withdraws and he slides down your shorts over your legs, little ripples of electricity running through your body as he does so. 

“You’re so wet.” Caleb’s voice is laced with arousal as he moves toward your feet and sees the patch of moisture on your panties.

“It’s natural,” Zayne reassures you and squeezes your hand and you nod, your embarrassment giving away to your instincts. Your hips raise slightly as Caleb removes your panties, displaying your swollen sex to their eyes. Zayne moves next to Caleb as you part your legs, and take a finger into your leaking core, drawing up the slick towards your clit. Whimpers leave you as you stroke light circles onto the swollen bud. 

“That’s so hot,” Caleb says as he watches the erotic view in front of him. Zayne quietly observes you for a few minutes, then you feel a jolt burst through you as he reaches his fingers into your drenched folds and copies your moves.

“Like this?” 

“Y-Yes…” you whisper breathlessly, your legs parting shamelessly to allow him better access. The pads of his fingertips were gentle, and the sensation of someone else touching you was so starkly different from when you did it. The air becomes balmy, and you writhe passionately under his gentle ministrations.

“Such a good girl for us.” Caleb strokes your thighs and you moan as your hips roll, trying to reap all the pleasure you can get. Your feet plant into the mattress and suddenly, you feel a different set of fingers, a little thicker than Zayne’s, softly probing at the wetness of your core. 

“Breathe for me baby girl.” You hear Caleb’s encouragement and breathe deeply as he inserts his fingers into you. It was done carefully but you were already lucidly wet and his fingers sink in with ease. Your moans start to keen as Caleb slowly strokes your inner walls, his movements uncertain but soft as he watches your face for discomfort. Zayne continues circling your clit and the sensations from both of them were driving you mad.

You feel yourself clench, your body tensing under their tender ministrations, pleasurable mewls filling the air as they work your body to the edge. The separate sensations were unlike anything you could have ever imagined in your wildest fantasies. Even when you’d touched yourself before, you’d imagined a faceless stranger. But now with these two, it was even more heady than you could imagine.

“Don’t stop.” You pant as you feel your body tip into the abyss. They don’t relent and keep up the pace and your eyes squeeze closed in ecstasy as an orgasm builds and explodes inside you. Your body quakes from the pulses of delight flowing through you and your sobs fill the quiet bedroom as you fall apart, a puddle of tangled, sensual desire.

“How was it?” Your chest rises and falls as you try to catch your breath and you see Caleb curiously lick at his fingers, tasting the fluid collected from your body. The sight was so lewd and yet arousing, and you can’t help but stare as he cleans up his digits.

“Good it was…good.” 

Caleb turns away and you see him fiddling with the fabric of his sweats and something clicks in your head. “Are you both…?”

You glance down and Zayne doesn’t try to hide it, but he averts his eyes shyly as you see the hard bulge in his shorts. Slowly, you roll over and crawl over to them. “Can I see?” you ask curiously, and a nervous glance flashes over their faces before they oblige. Your eyes widen as their cocks spring free of their confines, thick, veiny, and pulsing with heat. 

Your hands move automatically, reaching out to stroke them, and both of them hiss at your touch, your small, soft hands already pushing their inexperienced bodies toward the edge of bliss. You’re surprised at the firmness, and the velvety the skin was stretched over their arousals. Growing bold, you give a slight squeeze, and both of them groan, the noises heavy with want.

It emboldens you, hearing the desperation in their voices, seeing the way drops of pearlescent fluid start to form in their slits. Your mind craved to know what they tasted like, how their desire might feel on your tongue. Leaning forward, you cautiously taste Caleb first. His abdomen tightens, a low moan escaping from him and he grips the covers.

“Ca-careful…” he says in a trembling voice. You hear the thin restraint in his words and repeat the action on Zayne, tongue darting out to sample him. Zayne lets out a huff followed by what sounded like a snarl. 

Drunk with the power you held over them, you continued to test their boundaries, sampling, sucking, giving soft kitten licks, never taking more than a few inches of them into your mouth at a time. Their patience was wearing thin and their eyes had a primal haze to them when you dared to look up.

Caleb jerks you away from him, momentarily stunning you before you’re wrapped up in his strong arms, and he pins you underneath him, his erection grazing your thigh as he does so. His body was like a furnace and you nuzzle your face into his chest, his heart beating like a caged bird in his chest. He moans as he pushes his hips against you, trying to soothe the ache in his cock. 

Zayne shifts towards your head, his facade of control slipping as lust pours into his system. You reach out a hand to stroke him again and he bites his lip, eyes fluttering closed. 

“I think…I’m ready,” you say quietly and 2 pairs of eyes fixate on you.

“Are you sure?” Caleb’s tone is ragged as he tries to control himself from being selfish. 

You nod and stroke his hair with your free hand. “I’m positive. With you two…I’m not scared.”

Caleb laughs nervously. “Got us all wired up here baby girl. You think this is something I have practice with?”

You sense his insecurity and murmur, “It doesn’t really matter.” 

Caleb takes a deep breath, then moves, your legs spreading apart as he adjusts, grabbing his cock and probing around near your entrance. You tense slightly and feel Zayne move so that he can put your head on his lap. He strokes your face, then leans down to kiss you, easing your worries, and you feel your core flutter in anticipation.

Caleb finally notches in, and he pushes with care, pausing as he hears a muffled gasp escape from you, spilling into Zayne’s mouth. The sensation was strange, it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as you thought it would, but it wasn’t the most comfortable either. It felt like unused muscles were being stretched inside you, then suddenly…you were split apart and he was there, filling an unfamiliar cavern that had been untouched all these years.

“Fuck…” he hisses as he feels the tightness of your walls, the wet clench of them around his cock. Caleb’s movements are shaky as he soaks in the glorious feeling of your body, not daring to push too far in for fear of losing control. Your eyes are clouding over as you gaze up at Zayne’s face, your body rocking with each of Caleb’s thrusts. You moan loudly as he dares to bottom out once, then he quickly pulls out, his breathing shallow. 

“I can’t…Not in you…” he mumbles, then starts to pump himself in his hand. You cup Zayne’s cheek, and understanding, he moves carefully between your legs. He kisses your pubic bone, and like Caleb, strokes himself before using his hand to guide himself inside you. You were prepared for the sensation this time but marveled at how different Zayne felt inside you compared to Caleb. Your pussy stretches and accommodates him easily, the muscles relaxed and loose as he enters. 

Zayne brushes away hair from your face, his movements tender like Caleb’s and just as inexperienced. To you, however, they felt amazing, and you’re in awe of the human body, the way it could feel and bask in these sweet feelings and touches. Zayne’s breath grows ragged with each passing thrust and all too soon, he’s pulling out as well.

The sight of both them pumping their lengths, of knowing you put them in this frenzied sexual haze, stroked your ego. Caleb lets go first, his nose scrunching up in pleasure as he releases his load, the warm sticky fluid splattering on your belly as it happens. Zayne follows not too long after, jets of seed spilling out of his swollen tip to join Caleb’s.

The rest of the night was a blur. You remember being carried to the shower, by which one, you couldn't remember. They had washed you, murmuring how you’d be their girl forever. After helping you dry off, Zayne had lent you a change of clothes, and you fallen asleep wearing his hoodie and shorts, both of which were baggy and loose. It was past midnight when Caleb had roused you, reminding you that you needed to get back to Grandma’s house. He packed your clothes into a plastic bag, and after you had hugged and kissed Zayne goodnight one more time, he’d held your hand on the way home. Once back at your own home, Caleb had led you to his bed, and held you snugly against him as you fell asleep once more.

It was the perfect ending to the summer. You felt deeply content and sighed against Caleb’s chest. It was rare to find one person that loved you so wholly but two? That was nothing short of a miracle.

જ⁀➴જ⁀➴જ⁀➴

~End Flashback~

The group of women were gazing at you in wonder, their cheeks flushed as the wine they’d been sipping intoxicated their system. Tara’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. 

“And?” she prompts in an awed hush as you conclude your story.

“And what?”

“Don’t play dumb!” Tara pouts. “Where are they? Are you guys…in a poly situation?” Shr grins slyly.

Her question makes your heart twist painfully. Trying to keep your composure, you finish the rest of your wine. Taking a deep breath, you say the final, painful, part of the story. 

“My grandma’s house was blown up during the attack on Bloomshore district last year.”

Tara’s eyes change from teasing to horrified. “I’m so sorry!” She covers her mouth as the rest of the group becomes somber at your admission. 

“My grandma and Caleb didn’t survive the blast.” Your voice trembles.

“And…Zayne?” Tara’s voice is hushed.

“Zayne and I lost touch. He used to send letters regularly then, his last one to me, stated that he’d been asked to be part of a research program for developing a cure for Protocore Syndrome. It was some sort of high-clearance project, privately funded. He stopped writing after that.”

“No!” Tara looks absolutely beside herself. “So Zayne is alive…but you don’t know where he is?”

You shake your head no and excuse yourself, escaping to the balcony. None of the women follow you and you’re grateful for the moment of privacy. The night wind whips your hair and you breathe it in, the air feeling fortifying despite the chill. 

The seasons might change, but to you, they’re all the same. In your mind, you’re stuck in a perpetual state of summer, the memories of your two lovers echoing through your mind. 

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

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[cowboyheyxu]

caleb is 10 when he realizes that he's a physical touch fiend. the rush he gets when his hand lingers on top of your skin after playing with you is like no other. when he presses into your side while you're reading, his thoughts always circle around one topic: you, you, you. when you would run into his room after a nightmare, caleb was ready to swoop you in his arms and hold you until you fell asleep. every response towards you was involuntary.

caleb is 15 when he realizes that teasing 13-year-old you becomes irresistible. when he holds up your book, pencil, or some other item in the air, he watches as you jump up and down to try and grab it back. he's grown a lot in three years; if he had to estimate, he's a whole head taller than you now—20cm at least.

when you throw yourself onto him in an attempt to get your stuff back, he falters. you're laying against him on the couch, shuffling and moving up and down over his body, and caleb's breath hitches. you're so close and right there.

he's going insane. you can't even stand up for five seconds before caleb pulls you down against him once more, saying something about retaliation or revenge while tickling you to death.

caleb is 20 when he's about to leave for the DAA. there's an air of silence around the house. you've trapped yourself in your room more often, stressing over your senior finals. at least, that's what you've been telling him.

"i'm sorry caleb, i really need to study for this test."

"oh! i totally forgot about that project i had due tonight. shit, i'm sorry caleb. we'll have another movie night soon, okay?"

he doesn't know if you're actually this busy or if you're actually ignoring him. all he does know is that he misses you. he wonders about how he could miss someone who was in the room across from him. you were so close, but so far.

when you found out he was leaving—though you had a grin on your face while congratulating him—caleb knew you were devastated. he wondered if you were secretly mad at him for leaving.

two weeks before his departure, he practically forces you to be around him. he laid down next to you like before. he stroked your hair while you napped on the couch. he teased you and picked you up so you could hit him and grab him like you used to. he always chose to put his arm around you during a movie. he dragged you by the hand all around the neighborhood. he needed to all of that again, a thousand times more.

but at 24, it seems like there may have been a wedge between the two of you. calls are more and more infrequent.

"sorry, space signal sucks," he'd type.

"sorry, i was busy with training!" you'd reply, 2 days later.

he thinks that he would do anything to go back to before. he hasn't felt you in months. he sees you only twice a year.

it's hard. it was excruciating during the first few weeks. not only was he dealing with bootcamp, but he always found himself looking to his side, thinking you'd be there with him. at night, you were there, right next to him in bed.

he imagined that you would whisper words of reassurance in his ear. you'd hold onto him like you used to, when you had nightmares, and wrap your legs between his. there were days where we stroked his necklace, wishing that it was your hand instead. what he would give to have you next to him.

all he wants is to be able to feel you again. he chastises his 10-year-old self for taking you for granted back then. he wants to feel the apples of your cheeks when he caresses your face. once,—when he was 13 (you, 11)—he did that, and he thought you had a fever the way you warmed up. if he could, caleb would build a time machine to go back to that.

caleb is 25 when he is out of your life.

he thinks about you every day. it reminds him of when he was in bootcamp five years ago. it takes him back to when he was fifteen; you were on top of him, and his brain was fried to a crisp. caleb wonders if he's always been this way, because he can recall that at ten, you were still the only thing consuming his mind.

even during his arm repairs, you're there throughout all the pain.

when you discover his metal arm, all of caleb's instincts point to the door. he's spent so long trying to hide it from you: it's the constant long-sleeves (even though they made him incredibly uncomfortable), or making sure to only touch you with his left-hand (even though he wanted to pull you in with both hands).

but he stays. because it's you.

you freeze momentarily, listening to his writhes and moans of pain. caleb only notices you're there when he feels your hands brush his shoulder. he jolts back in surprise, and he sees you looming over him.

he stammers something, not even sure of what he said because you're here. you see him. you see it.

caleb's wanted this for so long. he wanted to see you again, in a state where you were both vulnerable, like old times. however, that moment probably wouldn't have come if he doesn't confess about this, so he relays the details.

you listen attentively, eyes wide with shock as caleb goes on. your hands wrap around his metal one, and he feels nothing. it's agonizing. he sees you examine him so gently. your fingers trace over bolts and plates of metal, lightly stroking up and down his arm. and caleb feels nothing.

how often has he dreamed of this? for you to be touching him again, so intimately and softly? he's stayed up countless nights wishing for you to be here, just so he can put his arms around you in a crushing embrace, only to be incapable of feeling you on one side of his body.

you pull away from his arm, asking if the fleet was accountable. when he doesn't say anything, he feels your weight lift off the bed and go towards the door.

whatever happens next is involuntary. he uses his flesh arm to pull you back, caging you between his forearm and his chest. there's no thought to it, no rationalization. it's just you and him. and he's been deprived of this for so long.

he breathes into the crevice of your neck, and he has half a mind to place his entire face there. he wants to breathe you in after being away from you for so long. no conversations, no contact, no touching. the last time he was this close to you was years ago. he needs this, caleb thinks.

the feel of you against his bare chest is something he cannot seem to describe. it's like he's his teenage (or even kid) self again, where he seems to short-circuit whenever he comes in contact with you. you're still small compared to him, but you fit perfectly like you did a decade ago.

he lets you go after he feels you trembling. you don't hesitate to place your hands on his waist and tackle him onto the bed. you catch him off-guard as you pin him beneath you, looking straight into his eyes.

"hold me," you plead, "with your right hand."

caleb lets out a shaky breath. there are voltages of electricity flowing through him—literally and figuratively. his skin sparks alive when he feels you. will it be the same with the metal arm?

slowly, caleb raises his mechanical arm. he wraps it around you, and feels the movement of your back shift downwards. you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. caleb held his.

you wait patiently before caleb starts running his metal hand up and down your back. you watch him exhale as he continues. you press your forehead on his, and you breathe in tandem with him.

caleb is 25 when he discovers that he loves physical touch.

wow like i didn't expect this to get so long... but like here we are???

i think we need to start embracing touch-starved caleb in all of our fics. this man hasn't seen the love of his life in YEARS (infrequently, anyway) so i think once she touches him (like INTIMATELY) for the first time in years he goes a little cray.

also sorry the ending was rushed i wanted to get this over with bc i intented this to be like 500 words but obviously it got way longer than that. what can i say... this freak has dug into my brain.

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐁 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚, 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

╰┈➤ ❝ caleb x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (with plot; honestly more fluff-centric with a lil smut towards the end <3), mention of nightmares, comfort, kissing, cuddling, heavy petting, dry humping, praise, dirty talk, inappropriate use of evol (kinda), use of pet names "baby" "princess", + "pipsqueak" like… once. lmk if i missed any tags !

wc : 2.4k

an : AAAAA i gave in 😭 some of you may know that im a chronic nightmare haver and. absolutely nothing . n o thi ng !!!!!!!!! is going to stop me from writing fluffy smut with the love of my life JSNFBWHF (++ mildly inspired by @starmocha 's post, ily you keep me (in)sane <3)

taglist : under the cut! (SIGN UP HERE)

KO-FI JAR / COMMISSIONS

You can't sleep, but at least he's right there to help you.

"Caleb…"

It started with a soft nudge.

"Caleb?"

There was no reply.

Your head lifted then, momentarily leaving the comfort of the pillow… only to be met with stillness. You could feel a huff threatening to spill from your lips, ever indignant over moments of lack of attention from him—yet, the dark of the room reminded you exactly where you were. A glance at the clock on his bedside table showed you an hour you shouldn't be awake at; not normally, at least. And if that wasn't enough, then the silent, sleeping figure next to you would have proved it.

It wasn't fair to wake him up. You were the odd one out.

And, yet…

And, yet…

You pursed your lips.

A beat.

Two beats.

Three.

"Caaaaleeebbb…."

His name turned into a whine, and this time, you sat up, reaching to roll him over onto his back.

Thankful as you were of his general attentiveness to you, you watched a little wave of recognition wash over him.

"…Hmh? Pip..squeak…?"

A hand reached out to rub at his eyes, voice thick and raspy, the lower octave jumping out to you. And with that unfocused gaze, and those slow movements… He wasn't quite awake.

Sheepishly, you pawed at his arm.

"Sorry, can't sleep…" you mumbled.

"Mmm… That's a shame, 'cause I sure can…"

You looked at him with a frown.

Still asleep, my ass.

The lazy smile on his face contrasted with the droopy eyes his expression still wore, and yet, he was still clearly awake enough to tease. You knew he was only getting under your skin on purpose, but nevertheless, you wanted at least a smidge of comfort—you huffed in an indignant manner, reaching out to give his shoulder a little punch in protest.

At your motions, he laughed quietly.

"Alright, alright. C'mere."

He reached out to ruffle your hair, and there was a slight moment of pause. You watched him scan your figure—there was a sort of appreciation to it, a soft, fond gaze that felt a lot like… Home. And then with a yawn and a stretch, his arms tugged you closer to his body until you hadn't much of a choice but to roll over on top of him, his arms circling around your torso to gently hold you in place against him.

"Better?" he murmured.

You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, the little thrum of his voice as he spoke—it was a low whisper in your ear, still somewhat fighting the sleep from his tone, but just soft enough to lull you into a sense of comfort.

A small smile spread on your lips.

"Mhm," you nodded against him; "A little."

He allowed you to move and adjust yourself over him, legs resting neatly on either side of his waist, your body curled right into him with your head resting right above where his heart would be.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

You smiled.

He felt safe.

"...Only a little, though? What's up? Nightmare?"

There was a yawn to his voice, and slowly, you felt him begin to absentmindedly run his hand up and down your back.

In truth, he didn't need to ask. He knew you well enough—you were like this often; there weren't reasons otherwise to why you would be awake at this hour. And he knew, too—there would be no sleeping for you until you could forget whatever images you'd seen in your head just moments ago. You needed a distraction.

He would provide it.

You felt him nuzzle his nose into your hair, planting a series of chaste kisses, the pad of his thumb placing a little bit more pressure onto your back if only to reassure you that he was there.

That everything would be alright.

"Mm… Hard to close my eyes when I can still see it…" You sighed and tilted your head, chin resting atop his chest as you cherished the way his other hand had moved to gently stroke through your hair.

"Yeah? S'okay, I'll stay up with you." You could see the way the sleep had more or less worn off of his features, almost as if the only thing that mattered to him in the moment was staying alert enough to help you fall back asleep first.

It was kind of adorable.

Your eyes softened, enough to let out a playful roll of your eyes. "Aww, look at you being all warm and caring~"

"And, what? You'd rather I not be? Says the girl who's always come runnin' back to me after falling and scraping her knee at the playground!"

"Hey, that's different! It really hurt, you know?! You were there!"

"Uh-huh. And might I add you were runnin' from some supposed ghost of the swing set, just 'cause it wouldn't stop moving?"

"Ugh, don't you bring that back! I didn't understand the laws of physics yet! What else can you do when you're ten and not a science gal?!" The smug little smirk on his face was infuriating enough, and were you not so comfortably snuggled up in his arms, you'd have reached out to smack it off of him yourself. "I am not a kid anymore, thank you very much."

But if you thought he'd use your indignance to push your buttons a little further, to your surprise, his only response was a chuckle. His head leaned down to kiss the top of your forehead; "'Course I know that, you're all grown up now. Just… Where would you be without me, am I right?" He smiled, and this time, his hand slide over from the top of your head over to the side of your face. Gently, gently, he coaxed your head up a little bit, palm cupping your cheek with a little caress of his thumb. "Some things don't change. And since you are my princess, then I gotta give you the princess treatment."

Giggling a little, you shifted slightly to nuzzle your nose against his. "…Geez. Okay, I concede. 'Specially when you call me that."

"Princess? You really like that one, huh?"

And despite the laugh in his voice; despite the playful roll of his eyes right back at you, he leaned in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

One kiss.

Two.

Light, feathery touches that fall into soft, breathy laughs—

Another kiss, and then another.

Slowly, you found yourselves lost in a quiet moment of feeling each other like this, foreheads pressed together, fingers gently running through strands of hair.

So close— so… comforting.

"Feelin' better, baby?" he murmured.

And you realized that the pointless bickering, the little bit of reminiscing—all that he'd done by means of pulling you far away from your dreams and into the reality that you shared with him.

Because it was really, truly, all that mattered in the end.

Smiling softly, your gaze dropped back to his lips as you placed a little kiss to each corner, cherishing the soft huff of laughter that fell from his own.

"Mhm," you whispered. "Much, much better."

So close, so comforting.

You could look into his eyes—warm, and pretty, and so inherently him—and they would be the only things you'd care to look at.

"D'you wanna sleep now? Or…" There was a playful lilt to the way he spoke, and his eyebrow raised—you could feel him press your lower back a little bit more against him, the subtle way his hand dipped lower to rest upon the curve of your ass. You didn't miss the smirk that edged at his lips. "If you're not sleepy yet, I could think of a couple ways to make you sleepy…"

Typical Caleb.

You swat at his arm playfully, a louder laugh falling from your lips. "Caleb! It's, like, three in the morning! I though you were sleepy?!"

"Uh, yeah, I am. But clearly you aren't."

"But that's 'cause—!"

You caught the roll of his eyes as he leaned up to give you another little kiss, and then promptly gave you a look.

"Heyyy. It'd help you sleep, right?" he offered a lazy smile. "And I told you I'd help you. You're in a pretty ideal position too, you know."

You were used to being curled up on his chest like this, but now that he'd suggested it, you had to realize that he was right—and perhaps as a little test, perhaps because you couldn't help it, you gave a little experimental roll of your hips.

The immediate gasp was more of a reaction than you'd expected, and then even you couldn't help the knowing smirk from spreading across your features.

"Shit— oh, that's how we're doin' this, huh?" He spoke through gritted teeth, but his hands had already slid down to rest at your hips. "Gonna use me to get yourself off, s'that it?"

"You suggested it!" you shot back, "don't you take back your words!"

"Oh, don't you worry about that. No way in hell am I takin' back anythin', princess." Another lazy grin despite the firm hold he had on your hips, and he cocked his head to the side. "Well? Go on, baby, do your thing."

It was near embarrassing how easily he could have you dripping wet with just his words, with his voice, yet you knew with certainty that you could have the same effect—every tentative roll of your hips brought out such delicious sighs from his lips, and you could watch with glee the way his eyes would flutter shut. You'd never been more grateful for the thin fabric of your pajamas; the stiff outline of his erection pressed so perfectly against you that the barrier almost didn't matter at all.

"Caleb…" you gasped. You'd fall into him as the movement of your hips sped up, and you could already feel the messy slick that had seeped right through your clothing.

"Keep goin' baby, just like that. Lemme feel you…" One hand slid back up your body, dipping beneath your shirt to caress your skin. "Such a pretty lil princess. You like this, huh? Grindin' all over me like this?"

His palm pressed into your skin—more, he mouthed. Faster.

And you nearly cried as you swallowed your own moans against his lips, feeling the way his hands dug back into your hips, urging you, urging you, guiding your hips into a frenzied rhythm.

Mindless.

Needy.

"M-mmhf, not— mm—! N-not enough, need m— mm—!" You moaned between kisses, and your eyes nearly rolled back into your head as the pressure around you steadily increased.

You knew what he was doing.

The minute he pulled back from your lips to take in the dazed look in your eyes, lips nearly red and swollen, you could see the surge of pride flash in his eyes.

"C-Caleb…" you whined. The hold on your hips was nearly bruising, but it was nothing compared to the way he'd push you so harshly against him, practically digging the shape of his cock into the dampness of your clothing. Slowly, slowly, you felt the cool air of the night hit your thighs, your wet slick mapping over his cock as your pajamas slid down to expose your panties.

Your hands gripped tightly onto his arms—

He wasn't lifting a finger.

"Ch-cheater…!" You huffed. "You can't…! C-can't use—hnng— y-your evol, like…!"

He only chuckled. "No? You said you needed more, though. C'mon, baby… S'okay, I got you. Gonna make you feel so good."

You groaned, burying your head into his chest, allowing him to move your hips as he saw fit.

Every needy drag and grind of your clothed cunt right against him had you soaking his clothing, pushing onto him, chasing that friction. And now that he wasn't kissing you—now that he had his hands free to roam your body, to tangle into your hair, to feel you…

He chuckled, pressing his lips down to your ear. "That’s right, moan so pretty f'me. Lift your head a lil, let me hear you, baby. Tell me how good you feel."

The tip of his cock grazed your clit, and your nails nearly dug into him with a cry. "W-wait—!"

Obedient.

You lifted your head to look at him, but your gaze refused to focus. A blur of hazy pleasure had you panting, moaning incoherent words…

He wasn't even in you yet.

"C-Caleb, wait, I need… I need you, ple— please, please, just fuck me, I-I can't…!"

You shivered, feeling his fingers reach up to trail the side of your neck with ghostly touches.

"You really do wanna make me do all the work, huh…"

"N-no, I, I just…!"

"Wanna cum, right? Well, nothin' here to stop you, baby. C'mon… You can do it, I know you can. I'm helpin' you already, you know?"

Your chest heaved, and you knew he was right. Every movement had you nearly crying, your hips rutting against him and nearly jerking each time he would lift to grind up into you. The pressure from his evol made you dizzy, and you could feel the pleasure building, and building, and building—

Out of the blurry haze of your vision, you could see him give you another smirk, and his lips were back against your ear.

"Cum for me, baby."

He pressed you tight against him, forcing himself to feel you, groaning into your ear at the way your body shook with a pleasure so undeniable.

"There we go, there we go, that's it..." Soft murmurs into your hair, hands rubbing comfortingly over your back. And as the intensity of your orgasm slowly faded away, you felt him pepper kisses into your hair, his arms wrapped around you in a hug so secure.

You were aching, sensitive. He was right; you could feel the fatigue settling over your body, every heave of your chest slowly lulling you to sleep—

He wasn't about to let you.

He flipped you over within seconds, his eyes raking over your body so intensely that you keened under the drag of his gaze.

It didn't matter that you'd begun to feel a little sleepy; you knew he wasn't done with you.

"C- Caleb, you…"

He brought a finger down to your cunt, your slick gathering in an instant. He brought it up to his lips; gave a little bit of lick. "Such a mess. Ugh, sorry, baby, I think I won't be able to sleep 'til I get my fill… Let me stay up a bit longer?"

A press to your clit had you doubting the puppy-like gaze he'd given you, and you groaned—

So hard to resist.

"You're making this up to me in the morning…"

taglist : @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valyvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @chemiru @ywnzn @pepprrmint @angel-jupiter @cordidy @raiyuxa @xai-mery @pikachuzhc @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @hunters-association

an : that thing with the swing.. that's uh. that's based on personal experience. 😭

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[sayangrafayel]

You get a lot of headaches and how he deals with them.

How would he react when you get yet another headache? The third time this week? This one is for those who get headaches a LOT. Truth to be told, this one is something I'd love to see because I get headaches a lot. Like, it's honestly concerning.

Sylus, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne, Caleb.

Sylus

He would try his best to help you in any way he could. He hates that sometimes he can't do anything about it.

Sent Luke, Kieran, and Mephie away on errands so the base would be in total silence.

"I can help you.. tell me, just tell me what I can do." "Just lay down with me, Sy." "Okay. Okay. Yes. Of course."

Xavier

Would carry your meds in his pockets at all times.

Turns off all the lights with his evol so your headache won't get any worse.

Reads every article and book on "How To Take Care of Your Sick Beloved."

Rafayel

At first, he gets so worried. He fetch you every medication he has in his medicine counter.

He gets restless. He hates seeing you like this.

"Hum me something to soothe my headache, Fishie." "Anything you want. I will do it. As long as you feel better."

Zayne

....He so would scold you at first. He's your doctor after all. He feels like he failed at his job.

"This is very normal for me, Zayne. Please stop pacing around the room and just hold me?" "It shouldn't be normal.. do you want me to get you a hospital grade medication? It's the third time this week, I think writing you a prescription is acceptable." "No. Just come here and hold me."

A defeated "Fine..." would finally come. He can't say no to you. After you feel better, he would read every medical journal to see how to make you feel better.

Caleb

Is very familiar with this. He knows the drill by now. He would massage the bridge of your nose and the space under your eye. (Right where it hurts)

Prepares a hot beverage for you. Either for you to inhale the warm steam or drink it. Whatever you want.

Would stay by your side at all times like a puppy he is. Anything you ask, he shall grant it. Cuddles? Massages? Your favorite food? Anything.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

cw - nsfw, smut

caleb likes building model airplanes like the very intricate ones. he’s a big beefy nerd who absolutely ruins you in the bedroom each and every time. he’s also definitely a pleasure dom while also being so mean :((

also the type to mansplain about airplanes and jets while he’s deep in your guts.

he definitely fakes his arm malfunctioning to give you the most toe curling, mind numbing, world shattering orgasm of your life and to keep going even while you’re crying from being overstimulated.

like he’s definitely the type to fuck his cum back into you over and over again. he can’t stay away from your pussy for too long… unless he’s building legos and shit.

do with that what you will.

[dijayeah]

Ride him raw //

🔞NSFW CONTENT MDNI🔞 🐦‍⬛word count: 864 🐦‍⬛synopsis: in which you ride him raw. 🐦‍⬛contains: fem!reader x sylus, established relationship, down bad pussy drunk sylus, just pure smut tbh, the usual. 🐦‍⬛please consider following me for more similar content! 🐦‍⬛part of my "Lights out // LADS drabbles" series on ao3.

“Fuck… kitten,” Sylus growled, his voice thick with lust as he pistoned in and out of you raw, his head thrown back against the sofa.

A sheen of sweat coated his chest and neck, and your tiny hands gripped the fabric of his shirt over his broad shoulders, desperately trying to anchor yourself.

Your pretty cunt had him in a vice grip, his cock slick all the way to the base with a creamy mix of his precum—and your juices, glistening in the dim light. His large hands dug into your plump ass, holding you in place, your skirt bunched up to your hips. Your nails raked across his bicep, leaving faint trails as you moaned, eyes rolling back.

“Sweetie… I’m not gonna last long—” he panted, his voice ragged as his large hands spread your cheeks, trying to bury himself even deeper. His brow furrowed, and a shiver ran down his spine as you rolled your hips into him. His blunt nails pressed into your skin, leaving faint crescent moons as his breath hitched.

Something sparked inside you when he said that, like a switch flipping in your brain. Your hand slid up to his neck, wrapping around it gently.

“Say that again,” you breathed, your eyes locking onto his crimson ones.

He groaned, the sound low and guttural, and the desperate hunger in his gaze made you roll your hips harder, overtaking the pace he had set.

“Kitten, you’re being unfair,” he rasped, giving you a sharp look, his silver hair falling into his face in messy strands.

A smirk curled your lips as you leaned in, your chest pressing against his so he felt the softness of your breasts against his chiseled muscles.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you teased, leaving a featherlight kiss on his brow before bouncing on him in earnest.

His response was immediate—a low, velvety moan muffled against your neck, his hands squeezing your ass hard enough to bruise.

As his cock dragged against your walls, hitting just the right spot, your grip on his neck tightened. You moaned as your clit brushed against his pelvis—and his tongue snaked out to lick a long, wet stripe up your neck. Your fingers wove into his snowy hair, tugging lightly, and he groaned again, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“Kitten… god, you need to get off, or else I’ll—” His words faltered, his chest heaving.

The implication was clear, but the thought of him not pulling out sent a feral thrill through you. Instead of slowing down, you shook your head softly, a flash of dominance flickering in your eyes.

“I’ll get off, don’t worry,” you whispered, your breath hot against his lips—before pulling him into a sloppy, desperate kiss. Your tongues tangled, saliva thick and messy as he kissed you with an almost feverish intensity, so needy.

He should’ve pulled you off—his grip on your hips could’ve easily done it—but he didn’t. His hands stayed firmly on your ass, letting you ride him while he kissed you like a man losing himself.

The obscene squelching sounds filled the living room, echoing off the walls. Sylus’s crimson eyes were half-lidded, watching you through the haze of pleasure.

You were so pretty like this—flushed and glistening, riding him with a fervor that made his cock throb inside you.

“I can’t… fuck, kitten, you’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, his head falling back as his hips stuttered, thrusting up into you desperately. His hands moved, dragging you closer, locking you in place as he cursed under his breath.

“I can’t hold it… I need to—”

You gasped as his cock pulsed inside you, warmth flooding you as he came hard, his load painting your walls thickly. His breaths were ragged, and he didn’t stop—his hips twitched, grinding against you as if to push his cum even deeper. The sight of him, silver hair sticking to his damp forehead, chest heaving, made your heart flutter.

“God, look at you,” he murmured, his voice soft but shaky—as he finally stilled. His large hands roamed your body gently now, tracing the curve of your hips, your thighs, and your waist. “So perfect. You’re everything, kitten. Everything I never thought I’d have, god, love you.” He almost babbled, his expression soft.

Heat blossomed in your chest, his words making you dizzy in a different way. You leaned into him, your lips brushing his as you whispered back, “I love you too.”

As you moved back, a mischievous smirk crossed your lips. “However, I didn’t say I was finished with you.”

He raised a brow at you, then smirked back. “Oh, is that so?”

Sylus’s hands smoothed over your thighs, lifting you just slightly. His crimson eyes flicked downward, and he groaned at the sight of his cum leaking out of you, glistening in the dim light.

“So pretty, even like this,” he muttered praise, a dazed grin spreading across his face as you whimpered at the movement.

“Mhm, I think I deserve another round of riding a wanted criminal,” you said with a smirk, your hips back in motion just a second later.

[prisjean]

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ caleb x fem! reader

a/n: based on the new 5 star trailer! i know it’s not spicy and i know his memory might be a lil spicy but i think being vulnerable & hand holding is so adorable c: not proofread btw!

tw: quick fluff with cyborg caleb!

the laboratory was quiet, occasionally having the creak of the low hum of the engines. caleb sat shirtless on the edge of his cot, his head bowed, his hands resting on his knees. or rather, one hand. the other, a gleaming, mechanical mental that rested there like a ghost of something he’d lost.

you had noticed it before, the way he avoided using his right hand more than necessary and the stiff movements when he tried to grip something delicate. but up until now, you hadn’t pressed him on it.

but tonight was different.

“…you’re staring, pipsqueak” he said, his voice quiet but tinged with that familiar edge of amusement.

you took a step closer. “i’m not staring. i’m... observing.” you huffed.

he let out a soft, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “same thing.”

you frowned, crossing your arms. “why didn’t you tell me?”

he finally looked up, his beautiful purple pinkish eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, you saw something raw in his expression, something he rarely let anyone see. “…what was I supposed to say?” he asked, his voice low. “hey, by the way, I’m not the man you remember. part of me isn’t even human anymore?…”

“don’t do that,” you said, stepping forward until you were standing right in front of him. “don’t put words in my mouth.”

caleb sighed, running his left hand through his hair. “it’s not just that it’s gone,” he admitted, his tone softer now, more vulnerable. “…i..can’t feel anything. not from this.” he gestured to the robotic arm with a small, bitter laugh. “no warmth. no touch. nothing. just cold metal pretending to be part of me.”

your chest ached at the weight of his words, and before he could retreat further into himself, you knelt in front of him, placing your hands gently on his knees. “caleb,” you said softly, waiting until he met your gaze again.

“it doesn’t change anything for me,” you continued, your voice steady. “you’re still you. the man that’s always looking out for me and taking care of me. the man that would rather throw himself in harm’s way than let anything happen to me. that’s who you are, not…” you reached out, hesitating for a moment before resting your hand on the cold surface of his robotic forearm. “…this.”

he tensed at your touch, his jaw clenching as he looked down at where your hand rested. “but i can’t feel it,” he whispered, his voice strained. “…i-i can’t feel you..”

your heart twisted, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you slid your hand up to the connection point where metal met flesh, gently placing your hand on his shoulder. “then feel me here,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as though to dismiss your words, but his gaze remained fixed on yours, a mixture of exasperation and quiet longing etched into his features. slowly, you reached for his left hand, the one that was still flesh and blood.

his breath hitched as your fingers brushed against his, hesitant at first, testing the waters. when he didn’t pull away, you intertwined your fingers with his, feeling the roughness of his calloused palm against your skin. His grip tightened slightly, grounding himself in the sensation of your touch, something he could feel, something real.

“here,” you said softly, guiding his hand towards your face. you ran his fingers over your cheek, pressing into his palm, letting him feel the warmth of your skin. his thumb instinctively stroked along your cheekbone, the motion being slow and delicate, as though he were afraid to break the moment.

caleb sighed, the sound heavy and quiet, like he’d been holding his breath for far too long. “…you don’t know what this means to me,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “to feel this. to feel you.”

your heart warmed at the vulnerability in his words, and you turned your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the center of his palm. “you don’t have to carry this alone,” you whispered. “whatever’s happened, whatever’s still hurting, you don’t have to keep it from me.”

for a moment, he didn’t respond. his eyes searched yours, as though trying to find the truth in your words, then with a small nod, he let his forehead rest gently against yours, his hand still caressing your cheek. he was gonna cherish this moment forever.

“i’ll try,” he said finally, his voice barely audible. “for you.”

you smiled softly, your free hand reaching up to cover his, your fingers curling around his knuckles. “thank you, that’s all I ask.”

the silence that followed was heavy with unspoken emotions, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that came when words were no longer needed, when touch spoke louder than anything else. Caleb’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb still brushing admiringly against your skin, as though he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go.

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 9

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, angst, depictions of a depressive episode, it’s pretty heavy, don’t force yourself to read if ur not in the right headspace pls, ambiguous ending (?) A/N: Yeah, I’m sorry.  (Ngl, this chapter kinda stumped me—it’s gone through a whooole lot of editing/revisions 😔🤙🏼 I don’t want to overthink it too much at this point, but I hope it hits the way it should lol. Blame Moby if it doesn’t.)

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9

"I thought that you were so beautiful, it was love, I guess And you might never come back home, and I may never sleep at night But God, I just hope you're doing fine out there, I just pray that you're alright And I feel so alone, and I feel so alone out here.” – A House In Nebraska, Ethel Cain

 

The television drones uninterrupted in the background; a mockumentary type featuring a ragtag ensemble of vampires stuck in some sort of modern day hell, their loud misadventures casting fractured lights across the four walls of your apartment. 

You sit there, watching the screen, your gaze unfocused. Nothing registers. The remote lies limp in your hand as a stupid sitcom laugh track fills the room—shrill, hollow. Mocking. Like a bad punchline to a joke you’re not in on. 

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table, cutting through the noise, the sudden glow in your periphery pulling you out of a pensive daydream. 

For a split second, your chest constricts—a reflex carved by habit, something you’re still working to shake off. 

You avert your eyes, torn between the urge to look away and the desire to keep your gaze on it forever.

The screen fades to black. 

A clean break, you reason. Something to spare you both the inevitable heartache waiting at the end of this… hopeless affair. Less mess. Fewer complications. 

A poor attempt to keep the pain from dragging out longer than it has to. Just a quiet ending. 

(Or, at least, it’s what you tell yourself.)

The same mantra plays on loop in your mind as you're swept away by the motions of the days that follow. Life blurs into a repetitious cycle of work, sleep, and chores—an unbearable combination of feigned ignorance and self-abnegation, in the guise of being caught up with it all.

You aren’t fooling anyone, of course.

The hours toll on, slipping into uncertainty. What started off that way stretches into days, and before you know it, nearly a week has passed, leaving you adrift. None the wiser to the meaningless, relentless march of time.

The pinging of your phone grows more sporadic as it lights up with every message that you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge. It’s not as if you don’t feel it—the pull, the weight of every vibration, like a stone lodged in your gut. Like the sting of a thousand cuts. 

And as you fall back into the familiar patterns of neglect… It carries with it an odd sense of defeat. Predictable, really.

-

-

-

… You cave on the fifth day. 

The barrage of texts hits you like a gale-force wind, tearing through the fragile layer of detachment you’ve worn over like a second skin.

How was your day, poppet?

Theres a gemstone at this auction that reminds me of your eyes.

[Image attachment] 

Beautiful—but it pales in comparison to yours. 

Luke and Kieran are wondering whats got me distracted lately. Ease their worries.

Answer me, sweetheart.

You dont need to ignore me. 

If you need space– if we need to establish some boundaries, all you have to do is say the word. 

Dont shut me out. 

Please.  

Your eyes prickle as they gloss over the messages, the words seeming to bend under the weight of your silence, each one unraveling like loose threads on the sleeve of your favorite cardigan, falling apart at the seams. 

Gradually, they turn into something less demanding. More… defeated.

I miss you, little dove.

You read the texts over and over until the letters have lost their meaning, and all that’s left is the aching longingness behind them. 

You set your phone down.

_

The vibrations grow less frequent, like a heartbeat slowing, fading—until one afternoon, it just… stops. 

The void he leaves behind seeps into the empty spaces, bleeding into every shadowed corner and untouched surface where his voice, his presence—louder than life, brighter than anything you’ve ever fucking known and had the pleasure of knowing—once lingered. 

The absence is almost physical; you feel it like a phantom limb. 

Most days, you find yourself in a daze, staring blankly at nothing. The numbness spreads like tendrils—invasive as they sink into your bones, dragging you deeper into despair, turning every bridge crossed to ash, every inkling of joy to dust.

The quiet flames of apathy consume silently. It strips away everything, leaving behind a cavernous pit of utter emptiness. A wasteland, devoid of feeling. 

Loneliness doesn’t scream. It doesn’t lash out. 

It simply welcomes you, like an old friend, the deeper you sink into it.

––––

Sylus tries to respect your space. 

That’s what he’s here for after all, isn’t it? His reason for existence—to be whatever you need him to be. A confidant, a distraction, a steady presence in your life. It’s what he’s made for. To be there when you need him, to exist between the vacant spaces, and only then. 

The thought gnaws at him, a ravenous fiend that chips away at the calm facade he’s finding more and more difficult to uphold, leaving something vicious in the wake of a growing bitterness he can no longer suppress.

Time seems to slip past differently now. It drifts, shapeless and infinite, heavier with the burden of your absence. Each moment without you feels like an eclipse—darkening the edges of this damned world, casting longer shadows through the crevices where he once basked beneath your fragile light, your warmth that seemed to fill every corner of his existence.

 He craved it—craves it. Now you leave him stranded in this cursed dusk, everything cold and dim in the wake of your abandonment, forever waiting for the moment his sun would once again break through the hollow gray.

Sylus thinks he’s losing a part of himself with every call unanswered, every message left unread. It’s subtle; like colors fading from an old film roll. 

(Is this what it feels like to be nothing more than a script in a code? He never truly understood what it meant to be less alive, less human. Until now.)

Solitude isn’t new to him. This world, built for him, is inherently lonely by design. But this… this is different. It’s the kind of emptiness that festers, sharper than any wound he’s endured in this senseless simulation. It twists inside him like a blade, a cruel, unrelenting reminder of what he’s denied.

Of what he can never truly be.

He can wait a little longer. Even if the silence presses harder with each passing moment, even as the edges of his reality begin to blur into something unrecognizable without you in it. Sylus can remain in this void a little longer, clinging to the fragments of you that still linger—your voice echoing softly in his memory, your laughter faint but still alive in the spaces where you used to be.

He can. He will. 

––––

“Hey, you okay?” 

You pull your attention back to Khol, who’s now watching you with concern in their eyes.

You force a smile, shaking your head. “Yeah– yeah, sorry. Just… a lot on my mind.” 

They don’t look convinced. “Seriously. You know you can talk to me, right?” 

Anytime, darling. 

I mean it. 

You blink the memory away before it can turn into tears. 

“Yeah, ‘course,” you answer lightly, clearing your throat. “So, what’s been going on with you and Anna?” 

––––

You stand in front of the junk food aisle, a mountain of Nissin Ramen boxes stacked high, advertised by a large sign: Buy 3, Get 1 FREE!

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, flickering erratically, and the dull noise of the grocery mart hums incessantly in your ears. You don’t think twice before grabbing one of the worn cartons, tossing three more into your (nearly) empty shopping cart. Might as well.

The plastic bags dig into your palms as you lug three in one hand, a larger box tucked under your other arm, leaving the store. 

The trip back home is a quiet affair. You almost expect admonishment; pinging sounds ricocheting in the silence to reprimand you for your poor life choices. You wait for it with bated breath. 

Your phone remains uncharacteristically silent. 

-

-

-

Back home, you pour boiling water on the styrofoam cup for dinner. The artificial broth leaves a bad taste in your mouth. 

You choke down a few bites before dumping the rest of it down the drain. 

The sound of steel hitting the sink feels louder than it should.

––––

The city thrums loudly beyond your window, restless and impersonal. From the sixth floor of this dilapidated building you loosely call home, you watch the skyline stretch into the night, dotted lights glimmering in distant technicolor. 

Hours from now, sunlight will spill through the curtains, bathing everything in a warm, golden ochre. But for now, just a quarter past midnight, you’re but a voyeur of the world outside. In exhaust fumes and all its muted neon glory.

Those lights promised you everything, once—a fresh start, the kind of freedom you used to dream of when home felt too small, too restrictive for a runaway kid desperate to break free from the shackles of a dying town. Each glow was like a beacon, an irresistible call to escape, and you ran toward it without looking back. 

Somewhere along the way, as life sapped you with the weight of its reality, the novelty fizzled from a blinding explosion down to a waning ember. The lights became another illusion, your precious city just another cage. The first cracks in the rose-colored glasses you’d worn so blindly. You can’t exactly pinpoint when, only that the colors you thought were once too bright now seem dimmer and farther out of reach.

You think you’ll miss the noise the most. 

The cursor blinks on the search bar, a steady metronome marking time in rhythm with the hollow ache in your chest. Flight schedules fill the page, each option blurs together into a single choice you can’t quite push yourself to make. 

You skim through the list: there’s one at dawn, another at around twelve noon, a red-eye flight you probably could catch if you leave in thirty minutes. 

You stare at the numbers, a finger hovering over the Book Now button. 

The details don’t matter. ‘Home’ still feels small, suffocating, but at least it’s a kind of emptiness you know. Here, the void sprawls wide, endless, leaving you unmoored with no tether to pull you back.

… The dichotomy between the two choices, you think, is meaningless. 

What was once home and the city will keep on moving—with or without you. It doesn’t matter where you end up. Neither place will give you what you’re looking for.

The laptop screen dims into a faint glare. The sound of your breathing echoes too loud in the stillness, the empty space seeming to shrink around you, caving in on the weight of your indecision. 

And as you sit there, swallowed by the dark, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve been drifting for far longer than you realized. 

If maybe there’s nowhere you were meant to belong at all.

––––

It’s not until one quiet night, with nothing but a bottle of merlot and a slight buzz, that you buckle under pressure.

You hesitate, thumb hovering over the icon, as if time has slowed to a crawl. Your chest tightens, unease twisting inside you at the thought of what you’re about to do. Anticipation hangs over you, insistent, smothering everything else until it’s just the room and the cacophony of thoughts in your head, all centered on one thing. 

One person.

With a shaky exhale, you finally open the game.

He’s there. Of course, he’s there. Waiting, like he always does. 

The loading screen fades away, and Sylus appears, a myriad of expressions passing by his face too fast to catch. There’s surprise, yes, along with… elation? Hope? 

Then a flicker of something… vitriolic.

It’s fleeting; masked quickly until you can only catch the faintest trace of pique simmering just behind a veneer of indifference.

"Finally, she remembers me," Sylus mocks coolly, almost appearing unaffected. You know better—intimately familiar with all the microexpressions on his face. The subtle tick in his jaw, the incensed look in his eyes… each one betrays what he truly feels, hidden underneath the deceptive calm.  

The seconds drag on, stretching into an uncomfortable silence. Your heart hammers loudly, audible in this quiet, but your mouth remains dry; the words stuck somewhere deep in your throat. You’re terrified that, once you speak, you’ll shatter this moment. Aggravate the strain forged by your self-imposed absence all the more.

You don’t really know what to say. You haven’t– you haven’t actually thought this far. 

So you just… stare at him longer than you should. Long enough that it charges the air with a tension so thick, you could almost feel the weight of it against your skin. 

It’s awkward. Excruciating.

With difficulty, you tear your gaze away from his withering glare. That’s when you notice it—the different icons dotted in red. 

You hesitate for a second longer, then tap on them one by one.

The flood of gifts bewilders you, the sheer volume of it all almost unbelievable. Ascension materials, stamina supplies, both red and purple crystals piling up to an impossible number… each pushing past the million mark. 

And unread mail. So much unread mail. 

Guilt settles deep in your gut, creeping past your lungs enough to suffocate you. 

It’s not the gifts. Not the why, or when. It’s the weight of how much he’s been waiting, how much he’s given—how much he's missed you. 

The cold realization that he’s been here, silently counting the days until your return, strikes you like a fist to the face.

–

He tempers the sting of your sudden reappearance, swallows it down like a bitter draught. The feelings he has inside of him are tumultuous at best. Volatile at worst. To be cast aside so easily, so carelessly… it burns at him. Resentment thrums in his veins like a virulent river, threatening to ruin the fragility of the moment. He fights to suppress it, push the desire back before it can consume him, before it can manifest into being. 

If he lets it go untethered, this… hunger for retaliation—to make you feel even a fraction of the agony you’ve inflicted, whether unknowingly or deliberately—it will destroy the delicate respite you’ve allowed him. The only reprieve he’s had since you left.

But the edges of his self-control fray, unraveling strand by strand.

“You’ve been busy,” you say, finally; your voice trembling, barely above a whisper.

Sylus hones in on the words, sharp as a blade sliding between ribs. Something in him snaps. 

“You left me plenty of time to be.” His response is quick, cutting, but when his gaze locks with yours, the fiery vermillion melts into a more molten red. 

It’s the first glimpse of softness beneath his cruel vitriol, until he continues: 

“Did you get lonely?”

The words hang in the air, searing and merciless. A barb meant to wound. And it does.

You flinch, and for a fleeting moment, Sylus feels a wicked satisfaction from the honest look of hurt on your face. To know that you’re not immune to the same ache that’s hollowed him out, emptied him from the inside, is intoxicating. 

But the triumph is short-lived, snuffed out as quickly as it comes.

Shame crashes over him like a wave, dragging him under the tide of his actions. What kind of man takes pleasure in this? In hurting you? 

The bitterness turns inward, coiling around his heart like a vice. His fingers twitch at his sides, aching to reach out. But as always, the damn screen is there—unyielding, impenetrable. A barrier he can never break. 

It frustrates him to no end; the bane of his very existence.

And then, in the smallest, softest voice, you say it.

“I missed you.”

The words are feeble, paper-thin, but the admission pierce through him all the same. The stoic facade cracks; the sharpness in his gaze dulls.

You see it—the way his lips part to respond, only to falter halfway. The way his brows pull together, the way his eyes fall shut as if he can’t stand to be in this situation with you. 

You’re afraid of what’ll come next. 

He sees it, too—the stiffness in your shoulders, the way you shrink into yourself, bracing for a blow that’ll never come. You’re standing there, like someone on death row, resigned to whatever punishment you think he’s about to dish out. Resigned to the contempt you believe yourself to be deserving of.

The sight guts him. 

Sylus loathes to think he’s the reason for this. For being the one who’s made you stand there, small and trembling, as though his words or actions could destroy you. 

As if he’d allow such a thing.  

The guilt rises in him, sharp and unbidden, and it leaves an acrid taste on his tongue.

… 

And just like that, he concedes. 

The anguish he’s carried in the days you’ve left him by his lonesome—all of it falls away. It only takes a single glance at you, his little love in pain, and he’s stripped bare. He almost laughs at the absurdity of it all; the ease with which he surrenders to you, this time no different than any other. 

Do you have any idea how much power you wield over him? He’d give you everything—his pride, his pain, his heart—if you asked. Serve it on a silver platter, even. 

And he’d do so willingly. Without question. Without hesitation. 

He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Sylus steps closer to the screen, the constant reminder of the vast gulf that separates the two of you. “Talk, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice softer now—resigned. “I’ve missed your voice.”

You hesitate to meet his eyes. “It’s not as if you don’t have other ways to hear me.”

His mouth twitches, a shadow of a smile ghosting his lips. “True,” he admits, his tone wry and tinged with something vulnerable. “But it’s been so long since you chose to talk to me.” He exhales a drawn-out breath. “No matter. You’re here now.”

You swallow the lump on your throat, willing your tears at bay. “I am.” You give him an almost-genuine smile as you offer, “Would you like to do a round of Kitty Cards?” 

“Of course.” Whatever you want. 

And so it goes. You and Sylus spend the night locked in a familiar rhythm, cycling through rounds after rounds of the silly card game until your laughter spills like an addicting sound bite, one that Sylus has missed hearing.

When you got tired, the two of you moved on to the claw machines, proverbially emptying out the whole arcade. Plushies of all kinds piled in his arms, a little crow even perched on top of his head. 

The sight makes you giggle, and your giggle thaws the ice around his heart. 

It almost feels like nothing’s changed. The easy banter, the steady stream of jokes and teasing, flows as effortlessly as it once did. Like two puzzle pieces clicking into place, filling in the empty gaps of the previous days. It’s comforting, like a balm to an open wound. 

You play with a certain zeal that catches Sylus off guard—there’s a joy in you that both thrills and stirs an undercurrent of unease in him. 

After what feels like hours of playing, exhausting all what you can do, or at least, what this damned game could offer as much, you two find yourself just staring at each other. 

Two worlds, impossibly close yet painfully far. The quiet doesn’t quite settle as naturally as it once did, but neither of you seems to mind. Craved it, in fact. 

You’re beautiful, Sylus thinks as he stares at the soft planes of your face, drinking you in like a man parched. 

“My lo—” 

“I’m deleting the game, Sy.” 

And it’s as if time has staggered to a halt. 

Sylus wants to believe he’s misheard you, that his mind is playing tricks on him. He wouldn’t be surprised if his hearing’s not what it used to be.

But the words sink into him, inexorable and catastrophic. The realization that this was bound to happen is clear in hindsight—like watching a glass slip from your hand, the shatter already written in the fall. He sees it coming, yet it still feels worse than anything he’s imagined.

He stands there, unnaturally still, as if rooted in place. The lightness he’s felt for the past few hours of reuniting with you vanishes in an instant. It’s as if the world itself has been drained of color, leaving only the stark, unrelenting reality of what you’ve just said.

Then Sylus breathes out a laugh. It’s short and jagged, devoid of any humor. “Oh, so it’s been leading up to this, has it?” 

“I–” you swallow hard, bottom lip trembling. “I made the goddamn mistake of falling for someone that's impossible to have—and it’s killing me, Sylus.” Your voice fractures under the weight of frustration. The words feel like shards of glass tearing their way out of your throat. “I–I can’t do this anymore.”  

“Just you, then.” Sylus sneers, tone acerbic. “And have you stopped to consider my feelings in this matter?” 

“How can you still want this?” you bite back, voice cracking. “How can you want me—to bet on something that’s doomed right from the start?”

His expression shifts, and for a brief moment, pain flickers in his eyes, raw and unguarded. He doesn’t bother hiding it.

He doesn’t answer your question. Instead, when he speaks again, his words send an icy shiver down your spine.

“You delete the game, and I will cease to exist.”

You freeze. The weight of the statement hangs in the air like a guillotine. 

A shallow, shaky breath escapes you.

“You won’t,” you assert, brows furrowing, as if trying to convince yourself of it too. “You’ll still have a life there. With her. The way things have always been.” There’s a pause before you utter the final blow: “The way it should be.”

“You’d condemn me to this life,” he says, voice hollow, before it turns venomous. “Knowing what I know now?”

With your heart in your throat, you clench your hands into fist. “You–you said we’re just made of what we’re given, didn’t you? That each of us has our own set of scripts, just…” you falter, struggling to articulate what you want to say.

“And you think that’s all I am?” he interjects, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper as he cuts you off. “Simply a mere code in a complex string of binary, incapable of making my own choices? Undeserving of it?”

“Of course not!” you snap angrily. 

“Yet here you are,” he says, a quiet intensity lacing his words. “Making the decision for me.”

Your breath hitches, the will to argue dissipating like smoke. 

“You tell me I have a soul,” he states. “Do you truly believe I’m bereft of a heart?”

No. No, how can he say that—

Before you can form a response—to defend yourself, to explain, to take it back—he continues, leaving no room for interruption. 

“Is this what you really want?” Sylus intones, tone detached, as if he’s merely commenting on something as trite as the weather. “If you can look me in the eye and tell me yes, then I’ll do as you wish.”

Your gaze wavers. The war inside you rages—self-hate, doubt, and the unbearable ache of wanting what you can’t have spiraling out of control.

Your mind replays every moment, every laugh, every secret whispered in the quiet safety of his company. You think of how his presence filled the cracks in your life, how he soothed the ache of your solitude as easy as breathing.

And now as the void looms, ready to reclaim the space he’s occupied, something inside you feels irreparably fractured. Something inside you breaks. 

“But,” he whispers, his voice rough with the weight of his conviction, “give me any sign—anything—that you need me still, and I will move heaven and earth to find a way to you.”

Your throat constricts, choking off the words before it could escape. 

You don’t think you’ve ever hated yourself more than you do in that moment.

“Just live your life, Sy-Sy,” you manage, sounding so much like a stranger even to your own ears. The blood roars in your head, drowning out everything but the crushing weight of your words. “You don’t nee—”

“Don’t you dare say it,” he snarls, his voice shaking with unrestrained emotion. “Stop making assumptions. Stop presuming that I don’t need you as much as I need the very ground I stand upon.”

His eyes bore into yours. Heavy. Searching. “What do you want?”

The words strike you like a physical blow, and it leaves you reeling. 

I love you. 

I love you in ways that consume me. 

I don’t know what to do with it—with all the love I have for you.

You force yourself to speak. You spit the words out like a curse, feeling them burn as they leave your mouth.

“Let me go, Sylus.”

The implication of what you’ve said cuts through the fragile air between you. 

The silence stretches.

Suddenly—

“Let you go,” he muses, low and distant, as if the very thought confounds him. His lips twitch into a faint, almost bitter smile. “As if that’s even possible. As if I could simply erase you from me.”

He steps closer to you; each movement deliberate, as though every step bears the weight of a decision you’ve forced him to make. The lump in your throat swells. You don’t speak. You can’t.

You feel like you’re drowning.

“Sylus…”

Please, please don’t make me choose. Please make it stop.

He exhales slowly. “Neither of us wants that.” 

Stop.

“Do you think this is mercy?” His voice is soft. “You believe this will make it easier?”

Please stop. 

“This world hasn’t felt the same ever since. Not since you,” Sylus murmurs, grief hanging heavy in the space between you. “I don’t belong here. Not without you, my love.”

Tears pool in your eyes, hot and relentless, spilling down your cheeks. A sob rips through you, and you quickly look away, unable to meet his gaze. Unable to bear another second of this agony.

He tuts gently, a playful sound—and the familiarity of it kills you, making you cry harder. 

“Look at me,” he coaxes, almost pleading. 

When his gaze locks onto yours, you see that there’s no anger in them. The fire that once raged in his eyes is gone. 

In its place, a quiet resolve.

“You can keep pretending,” he says, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tilts his head, and there’s something in the way he looks at you—so tenderly fond, as if he sees beyond your defenses, past all the walls you’ve built. “As long as you do not stop me from trying.” 

Sylus looks at you, unwavering, certain in a way that makes your heart ache. It almost feels like the space between you can’t contain the weight of his devotion. His love for you.

It feels infinite, as if it could stretch beyond the limits of time and space itself.

“I will find a way to you, even if it takes me an eternity.”

He utters it like a promise. 

“I won’t ask you to wait for me,” Sylus murmurs, stepping back, his tall form flickering like a dark phantasm. “I just need you to hold on until I can come to you. Can you do that, little dove?” 

He’s not asking for anything beyond your trust—just the simple act of holding on. Of not letting the weight of your sorrow break you. To trust that he will find a way, no matter how impossible it seems.

You don’t know if you’ve ever believed in anything as much as you believe in him. You always did. 

Because for all the uncertainty, you know one thing: He is yours, as much as you are his. 

So with all the strength you can muster, you nod. “I can.” 

A faint smile plays at the corners of his lips. Your gazes meet, and in that fleeting moment, both of your eyes speak what words fail to convey.

The game crashes for the last time. 

And you know that if you check, the app will be gone from your phone. There’s no going back from this, no undoing what’s lost. Just the burden of knowing it’s over—his exit, permanent. 

Sylus is gone.

The emptiness that follows is immediate. Suffocating. 

You’re left standing there, alone, with only the lingering echo of his presence keeping you buoyed from the crushing weight of isolation. You feel it—the ache in your chest where your heart used to be, brought by the absence of everything he ever was to you. 

Your lover, your best friend.

You try not to let yourself fall apart, not to crumble in the wake of solitude.

You’ll hold onto his promise. And so you’ll keep yours. 

End A/N: Well—that’s it, folks!

(I’m kidding, don’t kill me. There’s one last chapter left.)

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean @vvhira @issamomma @shroomiethefrogwhisperer @blueberrysquire @lovely-hani @fiyori @peachystea @aeanya @sylus-crow @queen-serena88 @xthefuckerysquaredx @rayvensblog @poptrim @goldenbirdiee @amerti @angstylittleb1tch @reiofsuns2001 @j4mergy

[regalillegal]

Zayne’s was absolutely heartbreaking (tysm)

Don’t Die on Me

About: You’re hurt—badly—wounded while shielding him from danger. As he rushes to your side, there’s a shift in his demeanor; he seems different, more vulnerable beneath his usual bravado. Pairing: Reader x Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus (Seperate) Note: Reader and the men are NOT in a relationship. but there is implied mutual attraction. My inbox is open for prompts and requests :) Content Warning: Angst, injuries, mentions of blood.

SYLUS

The sounds of gunfire had finally faded into silence, leaving only the shallow, ragged pull of your breath and the press of Sylus’s hand against your side, trying to stanch the bleeding. You had been hit during the ambush, shielding him from a blast intended for his head—an instinct you couldn't explain, or perhaps didn’t want to.

Sylus's expression was a mask of controlled fury, his jaw clenched as he knelt beside you, his usual cocky, unyielding demeanor giving way to something sharper, darker, and far more personal. He applied pressure to the wound with a fierce intensity, almost as if he could hold you together through sheer force of will alone. His fingers, usually steady and sure, shook faintly against your skin.

“You’re a damn fool,” he muttered, his tone laced with anger and something else—something deeper. “I didn’t need saving. Have you forgotten that I can heal quickly!?.”

You managed a small, pained smile. “Maybe I did it for the fun of watching you panic for once.”

His hand gripped your chin firmly, tilting your face to meet his intense, searching stare. "You really don’t know when to quit, do you, kitten?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but it was laced with something raw, something unsteady.

“I thought… I had it under control.” you mumbled, trying for a smile, though even you knew how weak you sounded.

“Under control?” His laugh was short and sharp, a bitter edge in it. “Don’t be ridiculous!” Sylus hissed through gritted teeth, his usual cool facade crumbling. He never panicked—not him, not the man who’d handed you a gun to his own heart just to see if you’d pull the trigger. But right now, he was faltering, his steps uneven as he pulled you closer. His hand, normally so sure, so controlling, was shaking against your side. “You think I wanted you to jump in front of me like that? What were you thinking?”

You tried to catch your breath, his words slipping past you in a haze. You knew the risks of sticking by Sylus, knew that you’d inevitably end up in danger—but you couldn’t stand the thought of losing him. “Had to protect you,” you whispered, voice barely a thread. “I couldn’t... let anything happen to you.”

For a moment, he simply stared at you, his expression caught somewhere between anger and something far softer, something unspoken. “Protect me..?” he repeated, his voice lower, and you could feel the barely-contained fury laced with worry beneath it. He was trying to keep his grip on his composure, but his eyes betrayed him. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he traced the edge of your cheek, the words slipping through clenched teeth. “You’re an idiot, Sweetie. A reckless, stubborn, damnably frustrating idiot.”

His expression twisted, the frustration in his eyes unmistakable, but there was something else too—something vulnerable, barely concealed beneath his usual scowl. You’d seen it before in the softer moments, those times when his hand would linger just a moment too long, or his voice would drop to that rare, gentle murmur. But this was different, more unguarded.

“Sylus…” you whispered, but he cut you off, pressing a hand to your wound. You stifled a gasp as his fingers met the raw injury, his jaw tightening in response, an unexpected flash of helplessness slipping through his mask.

“Quiet,” he muttered, his voice almost breaking. “You don’t get to talk right now.” He ripped off a piece of his sleeve, wrapping it tightly around your shoulder, though his touch was uncharacteristically tender. “This isn’t part of the plan, sweetie. You’re supposed to stay in one piece, just like I ordered.” The usual bite in his voice softened, desperation pooling in his dark gaze.

You chuckled weakly, trying to make light of the situation, but the pain pulled a groan from your lips instead. His expression grew even more intense, the hardness in his eyes melting into a quiet sort of anguish.

“Stop laughing. Stop… smiling like that.” His voice was fraying, edges cracking, a wavering panic he seemed unable to fully control. “You… you have no idea how hard it is not to tear this entire place apart for hurting you.”

The statement caught you off guard, and it must’ve shown in your expression because he let out a shaky breath, his eyes searching yours with a desperation that he’d never let you see before. It was strange to see him so unguarded, the man who played god in the N109 Zone suddenly grappling with the possibility of losing you.

The corner of his mouth twisted, and he tried for his usual smirk, but it faltered. “What would I do without you, hmm? My little hunter, so brave and foolish…” His words softened, and he lifted you as if you weighed nothing, holding you securely against him as he continued on, urgency in every step. “You’re mine, kitten,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “And I don’t let go of what’s mine.”

You managed to laugh, the sound weak but genuine. “Then… don’t let go,” you whispered. “Sylus…” Your voice was weak, your head spinning, but you reached up, brushing your fingers along the sharp edge of his jaw. His expression softened, his lips pressing into a thin line as he leaned closer.

“You’re… more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?” he whispered, his voice breaking the slightest bit, but he forced a smirk, trying to hold onto his usual bravado.

“Guess I… picked it up from you,” you murmured, your vision growing hazy, but the warmth of his hand grounding you.

His grip tightened, and his lips brushed your temple, an unspoken promise lingering in the gesture. For once, Sylus seemed stripped of his dominance, his bravado washed away by the raw fear of watching you slip away. His hands shook as he held you, his mask cracking with every ragged breath you took. The man who’d taunted and tested you now held you like you were something precious, something irreplaceable.

“Hold on, Sweetie… just a little longer.” he said fiercely, and in his voice, you heard something you never expected from him—fear. “I won’t let anything or anyone take you from me.”

XAVIER

Xavier’s arm is tight around you, steady even as he fights his own injuries. The blood trails hot down your side, and you can barely see it through the blurred edges of your vision, a dark stain spreading across your suit. Xavier’s face, usually a mask of quiet calm, is set hard with a sharpness that you rarely see. Xavier's hands, usually steady and almost uncaring, were shaking as he tried to press down on the wound at your side. You'd taken the hit for him, jumping between him and that blasted Wanderer with a split-second of hesitation—or none at all. He hadn’t expected it. Neither had you.

Blood soaked through his fingers as he crouched beside you, his face tight with a look you’d never seen. Fear, maybe—though he wouldn’t admit it.

"Why... did you do that?" His voice was low, but it felt like he was questioning the universe itself. His usually calm tone was laced with an edge that made you dizzy or maybe it was the blood loss, hard to tell.

“Instinct…?” you murmured, managing a weak smirk despite the pain slicing through you. “I know, I was a bit reckless.”

“Reckless isn’t... you bleeding out on this floor,” he muttered, pressing harder against the wound, a little too hard, but you didn’t have the strength to complain. “You should have left me to handle it.” His gaze softened when you winced, and he pulled his hand back, immediately brushing away the edge of guilt. Yet the blood still glistened darkly on his fingertips, his gloves, on the floor where you lay.

“It would’ve been worse if it got you,” you mutter, trying to summon even a hint of humor, though the attempt falls flat against the pain.

Xavier doesn’t laugh. Instead, he looks at you, and the deep space void reflected in his eyes almost draws you in. That familiar aloofness fades, and for a brief moment, his concern seeps through, raw and achingly close. He shifts his weight to press you more securely against him, his free hand gently adjusting the strap of your gear as if every second counts in keeping you here, anchored.

“Look,” you managed, reaching up, even if it took everything in you to keep your voice steady, “you’d do the same for me.”

Xavier’s mouth set in a thin line. You’d hit a nerve, that much was clear. Despite the unspoken rule between you two—the sidelong glances, the unsaid things—he wouldn’t entertain the possibility that he would have let you get injured in this manner on his watch.

“You don’t know what I’d do,” he replied, his voice just above a whisper. His words held a weight you hadn’t expected, making you look at him closely even as the edges of your vision began to fade. “And you won’t have to, because I'm getting you out of here.”

He hoisted you up, careful, gentle, though he flinched when you sucked in a breath from the pain. He started forward, one arm cradling you as he moved you through the wreckage of the battle toward the shelter of the shuttle. It was strange, seeing Xavier so unguarded, every step almost too fast as though he feared stopping would break you.

“Stay with me,” he whispers, voice low. You feel his breath, close enough to count heartbeats, to wonder if his pulse is racing like yours. The space between you feels impossibly small, and the silence stretches, vulnerable, bare.

You manage a faint smile, fingers brushing his, a silent reassurance even as the sharp ache of your wounds thrums persistently in your bones. “You know, if I’d known I’d end up leaning on you like this, I’d have come up with something... cleverer to say.”

To your surprise, he huffs a small laugh, his gaze softening. “You always talk,” he murmurs, with a hint of that familiar, boyish charm, though it’s laced with worry now. “Save your strength. I’ll get us out of here.”

You felt yourself drifting, and his voice brought you back.

“Hey,” he said, tightening his hold. “Stay awake. I can’t have you falling asleep on me now—I'm the one who does that, remember?”

His humor was strained, like he was grasping at something familiar to keep himself steady. You let out a soft chuckle, the sound weaker than you meant it to be. “Guess we’re trading roles today.”

There was a moment, somewhere between one step and the next, where he stopped. He looked down at you, his gaze intense. For once, his expression was completely open—his worry and something warmer simmering just beneath.

“I can’t lose you,” he murmured, voice barely audible. “Not here. Not now. Not ever.”

You felt a wave of heat rise within, one that made the pain more bearable, somehow grounding. Before you could respond, he resumed his pace, carrying you as if you were the most precious thing in the galaxy.

The world swayed, darkness creeping at the edges of your vision, but you forced yourself to focus on him, on the boyish charm that hid beneath his cool exterior. “Xavier,” you rasped, “I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.”

“Just keep looking at me,” he replied, his voice steady. “We’ll get through this together. You and me.”

In the quiet of the shuttle, as he set you down and the medics began patching you up, you felt his hand graze your cheek, lingering just a little too long. You dared to meet his gaze, and for once, Xavier’s eyes didn’t look away. They softened, and the smallest hint of a smile touched his lips.

“Next time,” he said, voice warm with unspoken promise, “let me protect you.”

RAFAYEL

The harsh winds of the remote village howled around you as Rafayel’s face loomed over you, more serious than you’d ever seen it. You hadn’t intended for things to get this bad, but the ambush from the Wanderer had been swift and brutal, and you’d thrown yourself between its claws and Rafayel without a second thought. A mistake, maybe—though you could hardly think of it as a mistake, even now, lying on the cold, unforgiving ground with blood soaking your side.

“Damn it, stop being so heavy,” Rafayel muttered, though his voice trembled, barely hiding the edge of panic. You glanced up, expecting his usual smirk, his smug teasing, something bratty, but his face was blank—frustrated, pale, and determined in a way you’d never seen.

“S-sorry to inconvenience you,” you managed through the haze of pain, trying to keep it light. “But I think I lost quite a bit of blood back there.”

Rafayel’s usual smug charm was gone. His carefree expression had twisted into something you couldn’t place—anger, worry, a flicker of panic as he knelt down beside you. He pressed his hands over the wound, and though it was uncharacteristic, there was no teasing, no insults, just an almost frightening intensity. “You… Why did you do that?” he demanded, his voice low and jagged, as though the question alone might tear him apart. “Do you think I’m some helpless damsel? You could have been killed.”

Your breath hitched, and you were grateful that it could just as easily be the pain causing it. Still, you shrugged, or tried to, but your body had other ideas, and you stumbled. Rafayel caught you, his arm firm around your waist as he steadied you. You managed a weak smirk, though the effort cost you. “Guess… I wanted to make myself useful as a bodyguard, for once,” you rasped, feeling the humor fall flat even as you said it.

“Useful?” His eyes, normally filled with a cocky gleam, were sharp with frustration. “Throwing yourself in harm’s way is your idea of useful?” He gave a dry, humorless laugh, his hands applying pressure that made you wince, though he didn’t seem to notice. “You’re dumber than I thought. The one time I actually need you to stay out of my way, and you—” He broke off, swallowing hard, his fingers trembling ever so slightly against you.

“Don’t… act like you care now, Rafayel,” you murmured, half-teasing, though the words came out weaker than you meant.

His face twisted, and you saw a flash of something in his eyes that you hadn’t expected—hurt, genuine and raw, like you’d struck a nerve. “Idiot,” he whispered, and his tone was so low it was almost drowned out by the wind. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get… what?” You were slipping a little, your vision swimming, but you caught his gaze, and for the first time, you saw past his bratty facade to something deeper. He took a breath, his jaw set in determination, and then he did something you never expected: he carefully scooped you into his arms, his hold gentle yet fiercely protective.

“Stay awake, all right? I can’t have you passing out on me,” he ordered, though his voice had lost its usual bite. His words were soft, desperate, as he moved through the bleak landscape, carrying you with a carefulness that belied everything he usually projected. For a long moment, you stared at him, the pain numbing under the intensity in his gaze. This wasn’t the bratty, arrogant god who’d dragged you into mess after mess. This was someone else—someone who, behind the charm and teasing, was scared. For you.

"Idiot," he muttered, his words a tangled mess of relief and frustration. “Why would you do that?” He repeated.

And you almost laughed, wincing through the pain, because wasn’t it obvious?

“Because… I care,” you murmured, voice barely a whisper. It was the closest you’d come to admitting the truth—to saying what had long hovered between the two of you, unspoken, stubbornly denied.

"Just shut up for once,” he whispered, his voice strained, almost a plea. “You don’t… you don’t know what it’s like.” His arms tightened around you, as if holding you close could somehow protect you from the damage already done. “You… throwing yourself in front of me like that—do you have any idea how reckless that was? I didn’t need you to… risk yourself.”

“Couldn’t let the prince of the art world get scratched up… on my watch,” you said, trying to maintain your humor.

Rafayel glanced down, his usual piercing eyes softening, his expression raw. “If you’d died, I wouldn’t…” He paused, his gaze slipping away, the words seemingly caught in his throat. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” he finished, barely audible.

You managed to brush a finger along his wrist, grounding yourself, anchoring him to you. “You’ll… still have the sea. And everyone to charm.”

For once, he didn’t laugh. Instead, he looked down at you, and his eyes were so intense, so filled with something you’d never seen before. “None of that matters,” he murmured, his voice raw. He shifted, his hand grazing your cheek, lingering there for a moment too long. “Stay awake,” he commanded, a note of urgency threading through his tone. “You can’t just pass out on me. Not like this.”

You blinked up at him, the sunlight filtering through the clouds casting a warm glow around his figure. “Not… gonna pass out,” you whispered, though it felt like a lie even to your own ears. You could see the worry etched across his handsome face, something raw and unfiltered. “You need me for your—”

“Stop it!” he snapped, but there was no bite in his voice, only a desperate plea. “You don’t get to joke around right now. Not when you’re bleeding out.”

“Rafayel…” you began, but he cut you off, a flicker of his old bravado returning.

“Save your strength,” he snapped, though the edge was softened by concern. “I’ll get you out of here, but you have to stay awake. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me!”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you managed to murmur, your vision dimming as the waves of unconsciousness tugged at the edges of your mind. “Not without you.”

“Good,” he replied, and his voice was fierce and unyielding. “Stay alive,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, eyes dark with something he couldn’t bring himself to name. “For me.”

ZAYNE

The world felt hazy around you, pain ebbing in and out of your awareness as Zayne held you steady, his hands pressing firmly yet gently against the wound on your side. Blood smeared across his fingertips, but he kept his touch steady, calculating, his focus a perfect picture of surgical precision.

“Stay with me,” he murmured, his voice level, his eyes fixed on you with a fierce intensity. “I need you to keep talking. Tell me if you’re feeling dizzy or lightheaded, alright?”

You managed a faint smile, ignoring the way your own breaths came shallow and broken. “You’re… really good at this,” you tried to joke, but Zayne only shook his head, lips pressing into a thin line. “You should become a doctor...”

“Don’t push yourself to talk. You’ve taken a nasty hit here.” His voice was calm, almost clinical, but you could see the strain in his jaw, the telltale flicker of worry in his eyes. His hands, however, were as steady as ever, working methodically as he inspected the wound, gauging the damage with the supplies he always seemed to have at hand.

“Think of it this way," he continued softly, his calm tone soothing despite the urgency of the situation. "The wound isn’t too bad—lucky hit. If we keep steady pressure on it, there shouldn’t be significant blood loss. You’ll be fine. But you have to focus on breathing for me, alright?”

He was explaining everything, his voice filling the air like a familiar, grounding hum. His hands, wrapped around the fabric of his jacket pressed to your side, were warm, almost protective. You could feel the faint tremor in his fingertips, but he moved with absolute control, unwilling to show even a hint of panic. His gaze flicked up to yours for a moment, his expression softening despite the tension in his features.

“I warned you about being reckless,” he muttered, his tone more of a gentle chide than anything else. “But it’s not the first time, is it?” The slight quirk of his lips, a half-hearted attempt at a smile, almost made you forget the pain. Almost.

“Couldn’t let you get hurt,” you whispered, fighting to keep your voice steady.

“Hold still,” he ordered softly, his voice low and steady as he worked to stop the bleeding. His fingers were meticulous, his hands steady, despite the fear you could feel radiating from him. He couldn’t afford to let it show, so he did what he knew best: he relied on the calm, clinical precision that had carried him through countless surgeries. "The wound's not fatal, but you’re going to need stitches. I’d say you’ve torn through the muscle here by… at least an inch or two.” He let out a breath through gritted teeth, looking pointedly into your eyes. “I can’t believe you tried to shield me from that Wanderer."

Despite his calm, you could see the fear in his eyes—the same fear that betrayed itself in the tension of his jaw, in the way his hands lingered just a moment too long against your skin, as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

As he applied pressure to your wound, his tone softened, more to himself than to you. “You’re lucky you didn’t rupture an artery,” he said, hands deftly inspecting the injury with precise, practiced movements. “If this were any worse… I’d be looking at a very different situation right now.” His voice wavered on that last note, but his hands stayed steady, not allowing a single tremor to betray him.

“You’re going to be fine, I’m going to make sure of that.” He glanced down at you, his gaze holding an intensity that went beyond the practiced care of a surgeon. “You’re not allowed to play the hero, you know?. And if you’re trying to impress me… then I’d say you’re not required to be reckless for it.”

“Zayne…” you murmured, feeling the darkness pressing in at the edges of your vision.

“Keep those eyes open,” he whispered, his fingers gently brushing your cheek, grounding you in the warmth of his touch. “Stay with me. I’ll… I’ll get you out of here. But I need you to focus.” His thumb gently stroked your temple, his touch tender yet steady as he leaned close, his forehead resting lightly against yours, just for a second, as if grounding himself, too.

You managed a faint smile. “Didn’t know you were the boss of me, doc.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t look up. “Believe it or not, I have plenty of experience bossing you around.” He kept talking, his voice low and clinical, grounding you in the familiar, steady cadence

“You always said I was a terrible listener.” Your voice softened as you felt his hand linger, his thumb grazing your skin in a gesture far more affectionate than necessary.

“This isn’t funny.” He met your gaze then, a look so intense it stole the breath from your lungs. “Breathe,” he instructed, his voice calm and steady, despite the chaos swirling around you.

You could see the fear lurking in his dark eyes, a stark contrast to his composed demeanor. But it didn’t matter; his touch was methodical, reassuring, his fingers steady as they pressed against the injury.

“Zayne… the others—”

“Forget them.” His voice was firm, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of panic as they darted around the shop, assessing the situation even as he tended to you. “I need you to focus on me. You’re the priority right now.”

You could feel the warmth of his hand against your side, but it was not enough to push away the chill creeping into your bones. “But—”

“Enough.” He pressed down harder, and you gasped, but he didn’t relent, his expression shifting to one of fierce determination. “You can’t help anyone if you bleed out here. So please, stay with me.”

The adrenaline coursing through your veins faltered, and all you could think about was how you had protected him—how you had jumped in front of the danger without a second thought. The sight of him, typically unflappable, now uncharacteristically tense, pulled at your heart.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely able to form the words.

He shook his head, an intensity burning in his gaze. “Don’t. You’re not allowed to apologize. Not when you’re the one lying here, bleeding out for me.” He brushed a damp strand of hair from your forehead, his touch lingering. “I’m not letting you leave me. You hear me? We still have so much left to do together.”

You could feel the world slipping away, darkness creeping into your vision, but his voice anchored you. “Hey… Don’t let go.” he murmured, using the nickname he reserved for the most intimate moments. “I won’t let anything happen to you, not again.”

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

[sayangrafayel]

Zayne: I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.

MC: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.

Zayne: Are you... trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns?

MC: Is it working?

[dijayeah]

"You don’t trust me, do you? Let me show you how deeply I can care." //

– An argument after a dangerous mission leads to an intense reconciliation.

🔞NSFW CONTENT MDNI🔞 🐦‍⬛word count: 3.3k 🐦‍⬛synopsis: Sylus has had enough of your reckless decisions, but his frustration spirals into something far more heated, be it for the better or the worse. 🐦‍⬛contains: fem!reader x Sylus, rough sex, evol manipulation (energy attraction/detraction), possessive Sylus, biting/marking, praise-(soft) degradation kink, overstimulation, slight angst, masochistic reader, teasing, edging, intense orgasms, breeding kink undertones (but no pregnancy), aftercare, possessive but tender dynamic, the usual. 🐦‍⬛please consider following me for more similar content! 🐦‍⬛read on ao3.

The silence between you was suffocating, punctuated only by the low hum of the sleek car as it glided over the uneven terrain in the middle of nowhere. You were still catching your breath from the mission—the adrenaline crash, the heat of danger still clinging to your skin like a second layer.

Sylus sat rigid in the driver’s seat, one hand gripping the wheel while the other rested on his muscled thigh. His jaw was tight, the sharp line of his profile illuminated by the faint blue glow of the console. You knew he was upset—not at the mission’s success, but at you. For what felt like the hundredth time, his gaze flicked to you, smoldering, questioning, disappointed.

“You could’ve been killed back there,” he finally said, his voice low but cutting. “Do you have a death wish, or were you just trying to piss me off going after that wanderer?”

You bristled, turning to glare at him. “I knew what I was doing, Sylus. I didn’t need you swooping in like I’m some rookie hunter who can’t handle herself.”

“Handle herself?” He snorted, bitter and sharp. “You jumped into an unstable tunnel with no backup and barely made it out with that core. If I hadn’t been there—”

“But you were there,” you snapped, cutting him off, just as pissed off. “You always are. So why the hell are you so mad? You act as if you don't understand the kind of job I do, we do.”

He didn’t answer right away, the tension in the rover thickened like heavy smoke, and it made your throat scratchy. His large hand tightened on the wheel, knuckles pale.

“You don’t trust me,” he said finally, the words quiet but laced with something raw, emotional even. “That’s what it is, isn’t it? You don’t trust me to have your back, so you go and risk everything like it doesn’t matter if you make it out or not.”

“That’s not true,” you protested, though even as you said it, you heard the hesitation in your own voice.

Sylus laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “Don’t lie to me, kitten. I see it every time you look at me like you’re waiting for me to let you down. Like I’m one bad call away from screwing everything up for you. Well, I’ve got news: I’ve had your back from day one, even when you didn’t want it. Do you not trust me just because I'm in charge of Onychinus?”

The heat in his words matched the fire sparking in your chest. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t see how much you care? That’s the problem, Sylus! You care too much, and one of these days, it’s going to get you killed, be it your fucking organization or whatever this is.”

The car jerked to a stop, tires grinding against the dirt. You lurched forward slightly, the sudden halt making your breath catch. When you looked at him, his crimson eyes were burning, molten with something that made your pulse quicken.

“Maybe I care too much,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “But you don’t get to use that as an excuse to push me away.”

Before you could respond, he leaned over, his big hand curling around your small chin, forcing you to meet his sharp red gaze. The air between you crackled, the thin veil of restraint he’d clung to snapping like a frayed tether.

“You don’t trust me, do you?” His thumb brushed against your jaw, rough and unyielding. “Let me show you how deeply I can care.”

The words hit you like a shockwave, stealing the air from your lungs. His lips crashed against yours, hungry, demanding, as if he were trying to pour every unsaid word, every bottled emotion, into that kiss. Your body reacted instinctively, your hands tangling in his shirt, pulling him closer.

It spiraled from there—his mouth trailing fire down your neck, his hands claiming your body like he was trying to prove a point, to you, to him, it didn't matter.

At some point, he shifted, unbuckling your belt as well as his, pulling you into his lap. The cramped space of the rover was suddenly irrelevant, every thought drowned out by the heat of him, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing anchoring him to this reality.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice rough against your ear. “Say you trust me.”

You glared at him, defiant even as your body melted under his touch. “You’re such a smug bastard.”

“And you love it,” The silver-haired man shot back, his lips curling into a crooked smirk that was all teeth and arrogance. His hips bucked up sharply, driving a gasp from you as your nails dug into his shoulders. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed, kitten. Every time you glare at me, every time you fight me—you just want me to put you in your place.”

His words made your chest tighten, your breath catching as his hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises. He wasn’t wrong. The way he moved, the way he talked, how he always had to have the last word—it drove you insane. And yet here you were, rolling your hips against his large bulge like you couldn’t get enough of it, of him. God, you needed to fuck this man.

“You’re full of yourself,” you managed to gasp, though the edge in your voice was dulled by the pleasure building with every movement.

The leader of Onychinus chuckled, the sound dark and low as he leaned forward, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Maybe. But you’re the one writhing on top of me, sweetie.”

You wanted to retort, to say something sharp that would wipe the smug look off his face, but the words dissolved into a moan as his hand slid down, pushing your shirt up just enough to expose the curve of your waist. His fingers traced the line of your skin before gripping your hips again, guiding you as you moved on him.

“You’re so fucking stubborn,” he muttered, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he watched you with a mix of hunger and frustration. “Always running off, always pushing me away—but look at you now, going nearly all pliant on me just because of my cock.”

He thrust up into you, sharp and deliberate, and you cried out, your body arching against him. His hands roamed higher, slipping beneath your shirt to splay against your arched back, pulling you closer until your chest was flush against his.

“Say it,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “Say you trust me.”

You bit your lip, defiance flickering in your gaze even as your body betrayed you, moving in perfect rhythm with his. “I—” Your words caught in your throat as his hand slid down, his thumb brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs, through your tight pants.

“Hm, what was that, kitten?” he teased, his smirk widening as he worked you with practiced ease. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fuck, Sylus,” you gasped, your head falling against his shoulder as your nails raked down his muscled arms, through the dark shirt he wore. “I trust you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, his voice raw with emotion now, the teasing edge giving way to something deeper. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

His lips found yours again, the kiss bruising and desperate, and you felt the tension between you snap like a tightly drawn wire. 

Sylus undressing her, teasing her with the tip of his cock, and stretching her out with his fingers first, all while keeping his sharp, in-character tone.

Sylus’s lips left yours, a string of spit still connecting you as he pulled back, crimson eyes heavy-lidded and gleaming with intent. His hands roamed your body with an almost infuriating slowness, tracing every curve, every soft dip of your skin, like he was memorizing you.

“Shirt first,” he murmured, his voice low, like gravel dragged over silk. His long fingers moved to the fabric clinging to your chest, undoing each button with painstaking precision. “It’s in the way.”

You swallowed hard, heat pooling between your thighs further as he peeled the shirt off your shoulders, his gaze darkening when the fabric fell to your waist. He let his thumb graze over the light lace of your bra, smirking when you shivered.

“Pretty,” he muttered, his tone soft but tinged with something sharper. “Bet you wore this for me, didn’t you, kitten?”

You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could form a single word, his hands slid beneath the fragile straps, tugging the garment down until your tits spilled free. His gaze devoured you, and he let out a low hum of approval before leaning in, his mouth brushing over your collarbone.

“Better,” he murmured, his lips trailing lower. His large hands cupped your breasts, thumbs grazing over your perked-up nipples as he took one into his mouth, sucking softly. The warm, wet drag of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your needy core, your nails scraping against his shoulders in response.

“Sylus,” you gasped, your voice breathy and strained as you rocked against him, desperate for more.

“Patience,” he drawled, releasing your nipple with a soft pop. His hands moved to your waistband, unfastening your pants with the same deliberate slowness that made you want to scream. “I’m going to take my time with you. Can’t have you breaking on me too fast.”

He tugged your pants down, dragging the fabric over your thighs with a roughness that sent a shiver through you as you helped him to get rid of them. His hands lingered on the bare skin he revealed, his fingers tracing patterns that made your breath hitch in ways only he was allowed to witness. When he finally stripped you completely, his gaze raked over you with such intensity that it felt like he was laying you bare in more ways than one.

“Fucking perfect,” he muttered, almost to himself, as he shifted beneath you. His own pants were next, the tailored fabric sliding down to reveal thick, muscular thighs and his cock—long, heavy, and already leaking at the pretty tip. You stared, glossed lips agape, and he noticed, his smirk widening as he wrapped a hand around his length.

“I take it you like what you see, hm?” he asked, his tone teasing as he stroked himself slowly, spreading the precum along his length. “Bet you’re already imagining how good it’s going to feel. But not yet.”

Before you could respond, his hand moved to your thigh, spreading you open further on his lap. His fingers trailed up your inner thigh, pausing just before they reached your slick heat over your panties. He let out a low chuckle at the way you squirmed beneath his touch.

“Needy little thing,” he murmured, his tone laced with pure amusement as he pushed your underwear aside. His rough thumb slid through your folds, gathering your arousal and circling your clit with infuriating precision. “Look at you. Pretty fat pussy so wet already. And I haven’t even started.”

You whimpered, your hips jerking against his hand, but he held you down easily with his free arm. He slid one finger inside you, his crimson gaze locked on your face as he curled it just right, making your breath hitch.

“Relax, sweetie,” he muttered, adding a second finger and stretching you with slow, deliberate thrusts. “You can take it. You’re going to have to, if you want this.”

His other hand fell away from your body, wrapping around his cock once more, this time tighter, the tip glistening as he dragged it through your messy folds, mesmerized. The teasing friction made your body ache, your thighs trembling as he tapped the head of his cock against your clit, smearing your sticky glistening arousal over himself.

“See that?” he murmured, his voice dark and low as he watched the way his cock slid against you, slick and obscene. “All of this? That’s mine now. Don’t forget it.”

You moaned, your nails digging into his forearms as he continued to tease you, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance near his fingers before sliding back up to circle your clit again. “Sylus, please—”

“Not until you’re ready,” he cut you off, his fingers thrusting deeper, stretching you until your body softened beneath him. “And when you are, you’ll beg me for it.”

His teasing smirk was still in place as he finally pulled his fingers away then, positioning himself at your entrance. He paused, his crimson gaze locking with yours. “Gonna beg, or no?”

“I want it,” you breathed, your voice trembling but certain. “I want you, Sylus. Please.”

The smirk softened into something deeper, more dangerous, as he pushed in slowly, inch by inch, the stretch making you gasp as he filled you completely. He hissed low in his throat, his head falling forward against yours as he bottomed out.

“Fuck,” he rasped, his breath hot against your lips. “You feel even better than I imagined.”

“You asked for it,” he growled, his voice rough and strained as he thrust into you, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the cramped space of the car. “Begged for it, actually. So take it.”

His hands gripped your hips with bruising intensity, guiding your movements as you writhed on top of him. Each snap of his hips forced you to take him deeper, harder, the stretch and friction igniting every nerve in your body. Your cries filled the vehicle, but the leader of Onychinus wasn’t satisfied—not yet.

“Look at you,” he rasped, his crimson gaze flicking to where you were joined. “Such a pretty little thing, grinding on me. But I can make you feel even better.”

A faint shimmer of red pulsed from his right eye, and you felt it—an invisible pull, like his hands were everywhere at once. Your body jolted as his Evol flared, the sensation of his energy manipulating the space around you adding an electrifying layer to the way he moved inside you. You gasped as you were pulled downward with more force, his cock driving even deeper, hitting spots that made your vision blur.

“Fuck,” you choked out, your hands bracing against his chest, your nails raking over the taut muscle there. “Sylus—what the hell are you—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, a wicked grin spreading across his face. His right eye glowed brighter, the crimson shimmer swirling like molten fire. “Just making it easier for you to bounce on my cock, sweetie. Thought you wanted it rough? Or do you want it soft? Are you trying to be hard to please?”

The pull of his Evol guided your hips, lifting and dropping you in perfect rhythm with his own thrusts. It was relentless, merciless, and utterly intoxicating. Each time you were forced down, his cock filled you completely, the pressure making your head spin. Your walls clenched around him, and his growl deepened, low and feral. The car was filled with obscene squelching sounds as you both listened to them.

“You feel that?” he murmured, his voice laced with dark amusement. “That’s all me, kitten. Every inch of you is mine right now.”

Your thighs trembled as his energy pulsed again, the invisible force amplifying the intensity of every movement. It was overwhelming in the best way, your body arching against his as your cries turned into desperate moans. You clawed at his crumpled black shirt, yanking it open further to expose more of his pale skin.

“God, Sylus,” you gasped, leaning forward to kiss along his neck, your teeth grazing the sharp line of his jaw. “S-so close—”

The crimson shimmer flickered across your body now, the heat of his energy wrapping around you like an extension of him. Every nerve in your body felt alive, hyper-sensitive to his touch, the drag of his cock, the sharp edge of his teeth as he bit down on your shoulder in response.

The bite sent a jolt of pain that melted into goosebumps, your nails digging deeper into his chest as your body instinctively arched into his even more, if that was possible. Sylus growled against your skin, his teeth leaving faint indentations before he soothed the mark with his tongue softly, a possessive gesture that made your breath catch.

“Fuck, I can feel you trembling,” he muttered, his voice thick and gravelly, the faint glow in his eye flaring brighter. His hips snapped up harder, the relentless rhythm of his Evol working with him, pushing you closer to the edge. “You gonna break for me, kitten? Let me feel you fall apart around my cock.”

You whimpered in response, your mind hazy with the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. The heat of his energy, the rough drag of his girthy dick, the way his voice curled around your ears like a command—it was too much and not enough all at once.

“Say it,” The leader of the Onychinus demanded, his hands gripping your plush ass now, the force of his thrusts slamming you down onto him as his Evol guided the motion. The shimmering red energy flickered along your skin where the two of you were connected, a physical manifestation of his control, and the sight of it made your walls flutter around him. “Say who’s fucking you this good.”

“You,” you gasped, your voice breaking as the coil in your core tightened to the point of snapping. “It’s you, Sylus. Only you.”

“Good,” he growled, his grin sharp and dangerous. “And this pretty little pussy? Mine. All mine.”

His words sent you over the edge, your body tightening around him in a vicious grip as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. Your vision blurred, and you cried out his name, your nails leaving deep scratches on his chest as you rode out the waves of pleasure. Sylus groaned at the way you clenched around him, his thrusts turning erratic as he chased his own release.

“Fuck,” he snarled, his head falling back against the seat as he drove into you one last time, his cock buried to the hilt as he came. His warmth filled you, hot, thick, and overwhelming, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he spilled his cum into you.

For a moment, the world seemed to still, the only sounds the ragged breaths you both struggled to catch. Sylus’s hands softened their hold on you, sliding up to your waist as the crimson shimmer of his Evol faded into nothingness. His other hand brushed the sweat off your brow, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re a goddamn mess,” he muttered, though his tone was softer now, almost fond. His fingers traced lazy circles against your skin as he leaned back to look at you, his smirk returning as his crimson eyes met yours. “A pretty one, though. I’ll give you that.”

You let out a breathless laugh, leaning forward to press a peck to his jaw. “You’re one to talk,” you murmured, your voice still shaky as you settled against his chest. “Look at you. All smug and yet ruined just as much. I wonder what Luke and Kieran would have to say if they saw their boss like this?”

His smirk widened, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. “Ruined, huh?” he repeated, his voice low and teasing. “Sweetie, from what I believe we’re just getting started.”

[kushinadragneel]

Sylus brainrot bcs I cannot stop it so

Dad! Sylus, dragon! Sylus (blame my friend and our rp, I adore them), king Sylus actually, twins (I love how the whole fandom seems to agree on that), headcanons, short

Genres: fluff, kind of hurt/comfort with a lil bit of angst/sad, very indulgent, might be a bit ooc, admittedly very influenced by my oc as the thoughts swirled with her in mind

Mentions: pregnancy, female anatomy, motherhood, post partum, insecurities, lactation (not the kinky kind)

Dragons were peculiar beings, you've found out as quite the only human in this weird, entirely draconic kingdom. Though, so to speak, you were the weird one here, lacking horns, scales, a tail…

To say you've had many to learn was an understatement. From heats to mating to their habits, everything had been new.

But there you were, mated to their very king and very much pregnant sooner than quite expected to Sylus's delight.

So here's how your pregnancy goes:

Sylus discovered you were pregnant before you even thought of it. He said your scent got sweeter

You were put on rest instantly. Wrapped in furs that deeply smelled of the both of you, with the finest of silk as clothes and constantly doted on

His habit of scenting you? Got even worse. He's constantly glued to your side. Claims he can't help it, it's in his very instinct to protect you.

He was constantly piling up food on your plate

One child was a blessing. Hearing two heartbeats? Unheard of. Unprecedented

He was glued constantly to your tummy so he heard them. He denies crying to this point, but his eyes had been watery

Carries you whenever for his own pleasure. Your feet have barely met the ground, even as you got fuller and heavier

Massages you when he feels you being restless or tired

Constantly caresses your tummy and talks to the babies

Guilty of taking naps with you, curled around you protectively

Also guilty about stirring the twins with his nips, licks and caresses (got decked one too many times by his babies)

You and him bickered on who the kids will resemble (they ended up mini carbon copies of him)

Dragons do start being more welcoming to you and you slowly start feeling included in the community you're very emotional about it

"One carries a child for 9 months and they end up looking like their father!" one of the dragons playfully complained, pretty much in a similar situation to you. "Doesn't it ever bother you?" she asked curiously

No, it doesn't. Sylus is the favorite parents and the twins have your temper. Bless his patience

Talking of patience, he's had plenty of it with you. Especially as you were pretty much glued to his side and snappy to everyone else your instincts craved your mate pretty heavily during the pregnancy. And after

Talking of after

The first two weeks had been so hectic you were more in and out of sleep, barely remembering anything

Sylus is the light sleeper between the two of you. Surprisingly attuned to the kids, considering they barely start squirming and he's already picking them up

He's constantly scenting them. Playing with them. Is a natural at holding them in the weirdest positions while they babble and laugh

Very protective and possessive of them. Nobody but you and the doctors are allowed to touch his precious treasures (even the doctors are constantly under his scrutinizing gaze)

He does so much it's quite making you feel bad. Especially as the twins seem to favor him right out the womb and seem to need you just for feeding

It's been two weeks and you barely even remember anything. It crushes your soul, especially as one of the babies starts getting fuzzy and he is again the one reaching out for them, soothing the precious chubby cub between his arms.

It makes you sniffle and you have quite the breakdown about not being a good enough mom, crying about how he's doing everything and you barely feel like you've done anything.

He soothes you by holding you closely and nuzzling your hair. "You deserve to rest. You're doing more than enough. Let yourself heal"

You get worried about how much time he actually spends glued to your side, simply because it feels like he's ignoring his duties as a king because of you

He does explain to you that dragons do understand and nobody would be insane enough to expect him to not be by your side constantly at first

Tender moments

He always makes sure to have a regular bath prepared for you and is keen on washing your hair

He truly is a fiend. A kiss stealing fiend

His hands are so gentle over your body, massaging oils and kissing every inch of you. God forbid you ever feel less than wanted, he would snap someone's neck

He's still a flirt with you, just softer

He's actually more worried than you, he just doesn't let it on

He has to stop himself from growling whenever his kids stumble or cry at anything they find scary

The twins are menaces. He spoils them too much

He plays fight with them in the way wolves and lions do. He fakes being tackled to the ground and everything. Barely has the heart to scold them when they nip a bit too seriously at his skin

Though, he does have the heart to scold them when they try the same with you. He's very stern about your safety

[rqyup]

boyfriend material (drabble)

pairing.. caleb x reader

cw.. xavier mentioned

a/n.. an au where everythings alright and caleb became our boyfriend after graduating :P | masterlist navigation

oh, caleb is the ultimate heartthrob boyfriend material. Just picture this: him stepping out of his sleek, black car in his casual outfit, but is still exuding confidence with every stride.

His physique is so well-built that even the simplest movements; adjusting his watch or running a hand through his hair, make people swoon.

And when he comes to pick you up for a date, the way he leans casually on the doorframe of your apartment while waiting for you? Chef's kiss.

The neighbors outside? oh, they’re practically melting. the grandma from downstairs almost dropped her freshly bought vegetables, the women are glaring with envy, the men are trying (and failing) not to look impressed. The kids playing on the street even stop to stare at the real-life action hero standing outside your door.

Caleb on the other hand? Totally unfazed. he's too busy admiring you (even though you're still in your pyjamas, considering how early that man is when it comes to dates)

And poor Xavier on his balcony, gripping the railing a little too tightly as he watches Caleb hold open the car door for you. He doesn’t just see you leaving; he feels his own jealousy burning deep. Watching the love of his life laugh and blush with some random “perfect” pilot guy is a blow to his pride.

He’d mutter to himself something like, “Seriously? Out of all people, it had to be him?”

Then there's caleb, blissfully unaware,or maybe he knows and just smirks about it later lol

What makes Caleb even better is that he’s not just a head-turner in public. The minute it’s just the two of you, he’s this gentle, golden retriever of a man. playful, sweet, and protective in all the right ways.

Even though you’ve known him since childhood, he makes every moment feel new, whether it’s cooking together in the kitchen or holding hands on a walk, it’s always filled with genuine love. He’s the type to leave notes around your apartment or bring you flowers for no reason other than "I saw these and thought of you."

But that Doberman energy? Oh, it’s there too. Someone stares at you a little too long? Caleb’s arm will wrap around your waist, holding you just a bit closer. His smirk? Dangerous. But his words to you? Gentle as ever.

"Let’s go, pipsqueak. You don’t want to be late to OUR 1st anniversary date." caleb oddly empasizes his words, hoping a certain someone from a floor above hears (xavier is ready to throw hands)

Perfect balance of protective, domestic, and utterly dreamy. You lucked out with Caleb, for sure.

rqyup © 2024 – do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my content; dividers by me; likes and reblogs are appreciated !