#love and deep space caleb x reader

[lilisette]

An Astute Observation | Caleb/Reader

About: A short what if scenario wherein you noticed Caleb didn't get any snacks at all. Who could've thought you catching eye of that would change the outcome of the story?

Pairing: Caleb/Reader

“We’ve been outside for too long. Gran’s going to be worried.”

“You’re doing it again. Go inside by yourself. I’m not your sidekick.” You huffed at Caleb, watching him approach the front door of Grandma’s home. But instead of following him, you paused. “Wait. Did you even get the snacks I asked for?”

“I thought you said you’re grown up now? Get it yourself.”

You pouted. The gall of this man you have as a childhood friend. You were about to retort, the words forming on your tongue like old times, until realization hit you.

“So you were following me this whole time!” You accused him, and he had the guts to look unfazed, merely blinking at your words. You’ve expected him to trail after you, as he has always been protective of you since childhood. But somehow it… hurt, like he didn’t trust that you would be fine on your own.  

Not wanting him to pick up on the conflicting feelings within you, just as he always did with one glance at you, you turned away to hide your face from him, and began to make your trip to the store.

“Hmfph fine! I’ll go get them myself, I don’t need you to help me anyway.”

And just as expected, Caleb grabbed your wrist before you could take another step.

“...Are you really going to walk around with a wound like that? You’re going to hurt yourself like that.”

“Didn’t you say I was a grown up? I can take care of myself–”

The odd tension that hung in the air this entire time suddenly snapped, and instinctively you yanked Caleb backward, shielding him from–

-

“Hey! Hey pipsqueak! Help is on the way, don’t fall asleep–” “Dammit– Focus on me–”

-

“She will wake up soon, go and get some rest first.”

“Thank you Zayne.”

Caleb sighed the moment Zayne, or Dr. Zayne now, stepped out of the room. It’s been hours since the blast and while he and you were fortunate enough to have survived the disaster, Grandma… wasn’t. 

He pulled a chair to the side of your bed and sat, observing your sleeping face as he grasped your hand tightly, as if scared you would be out of reach if he were to let go. 

You shielded him from the blast with your own body, thus protecting him from the shockwave and debris that flew out. He remembered cradling you afterwards, trying to keep you conscious to no avail. The emergency response team tried to convince him to get himself checked for injuries while they treated you but he refused, citing that he was fine and he never let you out of his sight until Zayne appeared.

He was forced to get himself looked over after Zayne took her into the emergency ward. And during the medical examination, a question came to the forefront of his mind and stayed there. 

If he had went in as planned, would the little argument he and you had beforehand be the last conversation before he…

And if he did go in… That meant you would be alone. Alone against this world that he was desperately trying to shield you from.

He lowered his head at that thought, bringing your hand to his lips and murmured. 

“You still have me… I will protect you to my dying breath, I swear to it.”

[nath-sanvit]

"The most potent magic potion doesn't need to be consumed to work" - Rafayel, Fragrant Dream.

[lilisettean]

Between Silken Sheets | Headcanons

About: How are they like when they are underneath the bed sheets with you? Random assortment of steamy headcanons.

Pairings: Xavier/Reader, Zayne/Reader, Rafayel/Reader + Bonus! Caleb/Reader

Warnings: First times, Inappropriate use of Evol (Xavier, Zayne, Caleb), No protection (Caleb), please tell me if I'm missing anything! 18+ Only please. Enjoy :)

Xavier

Timid at first, his fingers tracing your form as though convincing himself that this, that you are right before him naked, was a dream.

He isn't very experienced, if at all. But he is eager to learn all you're willing to teach him, and is a fast learner. He memorizes all your sweet spots instantly, and is quite the explorer, wanting to find more of them.

Skilled hands with thick long fingers, deft at prodding your soft spot. Combined with his observant nature, he immediately would pick up on the slight change of your pitch as you moan, mentally filing that spot he just hit into places that would drive you crazy.

His usual aloof expression is nowhere to be found, replaced with the intense focus that he reserves for missions. But instead of Wanderers being his prey, you are.

Being a hunter that is always on the move, he is always in tip top shape. His stamina is nothing to scoff about, being able to go round after round late into the night as long as you are willing.

With experience, he grows bolder and would initiate more often. His hands wandering wherever he could reach when you cuddle with him on the sofa.

He would also be more teasing, turning you into a whimpering mess before pulling away to admire his handiwork.

While not said... Imagine if his light Evol felt like it's vibrating with energy. Him creating a tiny ball of light Evol and having it stuck onto your clit before pulling away, stroking his stiff cock while watching you squirm and plead underneath him.

"You're not the only one who knows how to tease, you know." "This is payback for earlier. If you want me to continue.... Beg me."

Zayne

He had seen and touched your naked form more times than you can count. He is your primary healthcare physician after all. He had kept all those times professional as expected. So when you are in front of him, naked under an entirely different context... He froze.

It wasn't from fear, but rather from enthrallment. It was only then he realized how attracted he is to you, his eyes unable to focus on anything else but you.

Being a doctor at one of the busiest, if not the busiest, hospitals, he never had time for intimacy, much less relationships. No one had caught his eye anyway, until you came back into his life. So while inexperienced, he isn't ignorant. He knows where to touch you to make you crumble and into an incoherent mess.

He handles you like you were spun from glass at first, but with time, his touch grows rougher, leaving indents and marks on your skin as he fucks you, his pace relentless.

His cold facade is gone whenever you two are alone together. And with you underneath him, praises and filthy promises easily spill out of his mouth. Praising you for being so good to him, for taking his cock so well.

He is very cautious about his ice Evol, but imagine. His ice cold fingers thumbing over your nipples while you're blindfolded, and the next second he envelops your pert nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it. It takes some time for you to convince him to use his powers this way, but once he starts, oh is he addicted.

"Nnh- You're feel so good around me..." "Relax. Tell me if it's too cold, okay? ...Good girl."

Rafayel

Being a painter, Rafayel had have many models pose naked for him before. He should have more control when it comes to you being naked for him, right? Wrong.

You offered to pose for him naked but he always denies, because he knows he wouldn't be able to focus at all. He would end up studying your body more, on what he would like to do to you, instead of what themes he want to bring out of this piece.

It's one thing to study you from afar, but it's another to have you on his lap. His face is red as it could be, his eyes on anywhere, anything, but on you. You would have to take the lead at first, his breath hitching and his heart jumping out of his throat the moment you grabbed his hands and placed them on your body.

Rafayel was not new to sex, he had plenty of offers before. But he refused them all. As curious as he was to whether sex will inspire him to create art, the act was too intimate for him to indulge. But you are different.

Your touches lit a fire under his skin, his inspiration rearing to go with every kiss. And suddenly he understood why many artists cite their lover as their muse.

As he got more comfortable with touching you, his desire to pin you to the wall like a painting grows. To immortalize your every expression and arch of your back into art.

He would treat your body as a canvas, leaving kisses and bite marks all over your skin as he buries himself deep within you, and admire his work afterwards.

Sometimes he likes it when he is in control, but other times, when things get too stressful, he prefers when you take charge. Just like you sometimes begging him to stop staring and just fuck you already, he would also sometimes plead to you to let him fuck you as he thrusted against your heat.

"Please- Mmh- Please let me fuck you-" "I want you now... Please have mercy on me..."

Caleb

Caleb had forgotten when he had started to see you as someone more than a friend. He was pretty sure it had been during high school, and when you had no outward sign of liking him back, he resigned himself to a fate of unrequited love.

His expectations were subverted however, and he thanked whatever God was out there for hearing his prayers.

His touch was gentle, reverent. As though still in disbelief that you returned his feelings and would let him touch you in ways that would drive both of you mad with want.

He would leave kisses all over your body, worshiping you and praising you all the way as he made his way down to your heat. Your moans were music to his ears, and he couldn't help but undo his belt buckle and stroke himself as his tongue lapped up all the juices flowing out of you.

He had dreamt about you more times than he could count, his cock always stiff and yearning for you the next morning. So when this fantasy of his finally came true and you were underneath him, squirming and clenching around him, he lost it.

It was embarrassing that he came inside you so quickly, but can you blame him? He had wanted you for so, so long. And now that he finally has you, he just can't help it.

You don't have to worry though. Despite having came moments prior, his cock was still hard and twitching, ready to pick up where he had left off.

You never really knew what his Evol was exactly, all you knew was that he could levitate things. He had used this against you many times, but now... Well. Sometimes he would use it to lift your skirt up. And sometimes... He would lift you up into the air and hold you there, rendering you unable to move and fight back against his teasing fingers.

"Looks like you can't move now, yeah?" "You know I won't let you down... Not until you come on my fingers first."

[leafzu]

Caleb boyfriend hcs. Short! Reader

I can see the talkative x shy trope with Caleb, him obviously being the talkative one in the relationship while his s/o is a sweet shy girl.

Likes to tease A LOT. And not just in a suggestive way, in every way possible. You want a hug? Mm you have to say it out loud and clear, (even though deep down he knows what you want.)

You can't hide anything from him, he reads you like an open book

Flusters you 24/7. Random headpats, sudden kiss on the cheek and then pretending like nothing happened.

Stares at you while you ramble to him about things that happened throughout your day. Loves when he sees you light up while talking about your favorite show, game, book or anything. He tries to listen, he really does but you are such a distraction.

"Gosh you're cute." He mumbles to himself. "Hm? Did you say something?" You look at him. He puts a strand of hair behind your ear, slowly leans in and lightly kisses your cheek.

If you're short, get ready to be bullied by this man because he will hold things high above your head and tease the life out of you.

You once couldn't get the jam jar because it was on the top shelf. Caleb saw this and came to your way. You thought it was to help you, how naive. Man's picked up the jar and put it on the shelf above it and walked away. You were flabbergasted.

Of course seeing your slightly pouting face, he apologizes and gets you the jar. Gives you kisses on the cheek as extra apology.

Greenest flag ever. Strictly follows the sidewalk rule. Even if you unintentionally happen to be close to the streets, he would exchange places while talking. You wouldn't even notice sometimes.

Gives the best care during periods. If you're on your period, he will bring you to his place, you can't say no to him no matter what. “I can't leave you alone when you're on your period like this. Stay with me for the week, I promise I'll take good care of you."

Has everything ready for you. Pads, pain meds, comfort food. Name anything and he will bring it to you without hesitation.

Will cuddle from behind and rub your abdomen as to soothe the pain.

And if you cry from pain, he will hold you and wipe your tears away. He hates seeing you cry and hates that he can't do more than give you your meds.

Will cook for you all the time. He secretly has a cooking plan made just for you. He loves cooking for you, especially when you compliment his cooking skills and praise him. Hides his face so that you don't see the slight blush on his face.

Baking together? He's all in for it. He lets you take the lead while baking since he knows how much you love it. Will be playful and smudge flour on your face for fun and then laugh.

Is great at comfort and encouraging words. He believes in you more than you believe in yourself sometimes.

100% gamer bf.

Owns a PS5 and also a PC. I can see Caleb playing games like Final Fantasy and Resident Evil.

If you're into cozy games he will definitely check those out too. You wanna play animal crossing together with him? Done. Y'all gonna keep playing and won't even notice the time. He secretly loves playing cozy games. He didn't even himself know until he met you. Never makes fun of you for you taste in game. Games are for fun and comfort. No one should be shamed for that.

You wanna play on his PS5? Uh-uh not so easily. This cheeky guy would let you play on one condition. He sits with his legs crossed and pats on his lap. If you deny, you can say goodbye to the PS5. But, if you obey and sit on his lap, he will literally give you his PS5. You can take it. All yours. He just wants you.

Given your height and size, it's easy and comfy for you to sit on his lap and get hugged while playing. He watches you, placing a kiss on your head every now and then.

Overall, Caleb is a 10/10 boyfriend. He loves you a lot and will always support you no matter what.

[blaire-apricity]

Hello, first of all I want to thank you for the amazing scenes with Sylus. Thank you a lot 🥰

I would like to make a request IF you have the time and energy for it...

Would it be possible to write a scene with Sylus and Caleb (the supposed dead childhood friend)?

I read somewhere that both of them are 190 cm and big in every sense of word...

Maybe Caleb finds out about Sylus being mcs love interest and is not that happy about it? Or something like that. Oh and don't forget the smut or fluff - anything that works for you.

Thank you again ☺️

Crow's Gaze

sʏʟᴜs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᯓ❅ ┆ synopsis┆ : An unexpected encounter with the famous leader of the Onychinus- though of course, only you knew that, but Caleb isn't sure what to make of it.

ᯓ❅ ┆ tags┆ : fiction, fluff & possible OOC

──────────────── ˗ˏˋ ❅｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽ ˎˊ˗ ──────────────

You and Caleb were out fetching groceries for your grandmother’s house. The marketplace bustled with its usual energy, though it wasn’t overly crowded today, making it easier to navigate. As you wandered between the stalls, you and Caleb exchanged stories about your daily lives, the rare time together making the moment all the more enjoyable. After all, with your hectic schedules, holidays were the only chances to catch up like this.

Usually, you handled errands like these on your own. You didn’t mind—it was part of your routine. Caleb, being busier than you, rarely had the time. And yet, here he was now, proving you wrong.

"Ahha, what’s wrong with helping out?" he said when you’d expressed surprise at his presence. "Coming back early to spend time with you and Gran feels like a win to me."

That cheeky, sheepish grin of his left you sighing in mock defeat. Caleb always had a way of disarming you, leaving little room for argument.

At the counter, you reached for your card to pay for the groceries, but Caleb was faster. His card swiped through effortlessly, his grin triumphant.

"Seriously?" you muttered, shaking your head as you turned toward the bags the cashier was packing.

The bags weren’t heavy, and you reached to grab them, only for Caleb to intercept again.

“I can carry those, Caleb,” you protested, giving him a pointed look.

“I know, pipsqueak, but remember the time the bottom ripped and all the groceries went flying?” His teasing smirk was impossible to ignore.

“That wasn’t my fault! The bag was overloaded—”

“Uh-uh,” he interrupted, hoisting the bags with ease. “Safety measures, remember?”

Obviously, you weren’t winning this one.

As you and Caleb made your way out of the marketplace, chatting and laughing about past mishaps, the bustling environment seemed to shift. The lively chatter and hum of merchants became distant, replaced by a curious lull. Your steps slowed, and instinctively, you looked around.

That’s when you saw him—Sylus.

Dressed in his usual sharp, all-black ensemble, the man looked impossibly out of place in the rustic charm of the marketplace. His presence was magnetic yet foreboding. His striking features—sharp jawline, piercing red eyes that seemed to see too much, and the faint smirk that hinted at both arrogance and danger—commanded attention. Even standing still, he exuded confidence like a coiled serpent, aware of its lethal potential but patient enough to strike only when necessary.

You instinctively stiffened. Though you knew Sylus from past, shall we say, unconventional encounters, it was never easy being in his proximity. Caleb noticed your shift and followed your gaze, his cheerful expression quickly replaced by suspicion.

"Who’s that?" Caleb asked, voice low and taut.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Sylus noticed you both. His smirk widened ever so slightly, and before you could decide whether to walk away or wave, he was moving toward you, his gait casual but purposeful.

“Well, fancy seeing you here,” Sylus drawled, his voice smooth, almost mocking. His gaze flickered to Caleb, scanning him like he was a trivial detail in a much larger picture, before settling on you. "And with company, no less. How... quaint."

Caleb stepped a little closer to you, shoulders squared. “Can we help you with something?” he asked, his tone polite but firm, though his unease was palpable.

Sylus turned his attention fully to Caleb now, as if noticing him for the first time. His smirk turned sharper, a predator recognizing a challenge it didn’t take seriously. "Help? From you? I doubt it, but the offer’s adorable." He then shifted back to you, his tone softening to something almost conversational. "Running errands, are we? Never pictured you as the domestic type."

"Sylus," you interjected, trying to steer the interaction. "We’re just here for groceries. Nothing... noteworthy."

He tilted his head a bit, clearly entertained. "Oh, but you see, everything you do is noteworthy for me."

Caleb’s patience visibly frayed. "What’s your deal, man? You just wander around making people uncomfortable for fun?"

Sylus chuckled, low and dark. "Only when they’re worth my time." He stepped closer—not enough to invade your space, but enough to make his presence loom. "Relax, kid. I’m merely catching up with an old... acquaintance."

Caleb frowned, glancing between you and Sylus. “Acquaintance? You never mentioned this guy before.”

“It’s... complicated,” you muttered, not wanting to dig into the gritty details of how you knew Sylus, or why his interest in you felt more like a game than genuine connection.

Sylus raised a brow, clearly enjoying the tension he’d stirred. "Complicated. Now there’s an understatement." His gaze lingered on Caleb, as if deciding whether to entertain the conversation. "But don’t worry, I have no intention of spoiling your errand run. Today."

There was an unspoken weight to the last word, one Caleb didn’t miss. His jaw tightened, and you could feel the tension radiating off him.

"Come on, Caleb," you said quickly, grabbing his arm and tugging him toward the exit. "We should get back to Gran."

Sylus didn’t move to stop you, but his voice followed as you walked away. "See you around, sweetie.”

The casual arrogance in his tone made your skin prickle. You didn’t have to look back to know his smirk was still there, etched with the promise of future encounters.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Caleb exhaled sharply. “Who the hell is that guy? And why does he talk like he’s in some kind of mob movie?”

You forced a chuckle, though your grip on the grocery bags tightened. “Just... someone from the past. Don’t let him get to you. He thrives on that.”

Caleb frowned but said nothing, though you knew this wouldn’t be the last you’d hear about it. And deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling Sylus’s appearance wasn’t just a coincidence—it rarely ever was.

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╰｡ Author's Note: I am not gonna lie, this took me a while to formulate and think about, I haven't written anything regarding the dead childhood friend-- So, I'm unsure if I did him justice. Hope I did.

Thank you for requesting the idea! Another request that took me a while to complete- spare me. I hope you'll like it as well~

╰｡ Tagging: . ݁˖ .@slitheringwaves

[midnightanxietytm]

Possessive Caleb Headcanons

A/N: Reblogged a post a few hours ago asking where were the Yandere/possessive stuff for LaD so I'm here to deliver, starting with Caleb!

⇒ Possessiveness, Obsessed Caleb, mentions of fighting, yandere stuff, jealousy and all that good stuff (that is actually a massive red flag irl but we're here to indulge so have fun and be responsible.) Not NSFW but a little suggestive.

💎

He’s been overprotective ever since you were kids but around High School he became a but more…obsessive

Not that you mind, he’s very careful of your boundaries, but to anyone who crosses you he isn’t forgiving at all.

More than once you’ve seen him pick fights in school because someone looked at you the wrong way.

He doesn’t really want to follow a career where he has to travel, but he really wants to make money so he can come back and build a family with you so he really has no choice!

He thinks about asking Zayne to watch over you, but he gets jealous at the mere thought of it and drops the idea.

He settles for calling you every day while he’s away and insists you text him all day long.

Also, the necklace you gave him? It is his most cherished possession, he loved how you looked so shy while putting it on for him, so flustered, and all for him!

Once he’s back, tough? Glues himself by your side, you won’t go to a corner store without him.

Maybe he watches you sleep too, maybe. But so what if he does? He just misses you!

One day he convinced you to cuddle on the sofa and if he was a little too entertained smelling your hair then that’s no one’s business.

Oh, back to Zayne, once Caleb discovers that he’s your care physician he feels extremely jealous and discourages you from trying to befriend him again. Out of all the other lads Caleb is more jealous towards Zayne (Rafayel is a close second place tho)

He hasn’t asked you to make it official yet, he wants to make it perfect, but he basically acts like your husband already.

Your first kiss was probably with him, he said it was “practice” but he just wanted to kiss you. He probably used the same excuse for other firsts too iykyk.

💎

Requests are open!

[heartlittledesires]

LADS: AMONG US (gone wrong)

someone needs to save zayne from rafayel.

LADS: SYLUS ACCIDENTALLY SENT A TEXTS TO RAFAYEL.

rafayel needs to be muzzled.

[hellinistical]

fem! reader x rafayel. royal! au. sea horror! au. heavy angst. minor and major character death. slow burn. romance. fluff. explicit smut. trauma. religious themes. gore; hinted torture, cannibalism, decapitation, self-cannibalism. violence wc: 3962 a/n: finals are over so back to updating :)

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IV: RICH RED SOIL

The wheels creaked loud enough to be heard from the inside of the carriage. Y/n’s stomach twisted as the carriage rattled forward, the scent of sweat and fear clinging to the heavy air inside. The other girls packed tightly together, each wearing the same expression of tense resignation. No one spoke; their faces were drawn, eyes flitting between each other and the curtained windows as if answers lay somewhere outside. 

Y/n tried to ignore the leftover taste of the roast clinging to her tongue, a reminder of her mother’s desperate insistence and the reality of what lay ahead. She swallowed hard, pressing her forehead against the cool glass pane, hoping it might ease the rising nausea. The muted rhythm of the wheels on the cobblestones should have been calming, but it felt like a countdown instead, each clack taking them further from their homes and closer to whatever fate awaited.

One of the girls beside her, a frail brunette with wide eyes, fidgeted with the hem of her dress. She kept glancing nervously at Y/n as if wanting to say something but unsure of where to start. Y/n finally turned to her, giving a slight nod of encouragement. 

“Do… do you think it’s true?” the girl whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the wheels. “The stories… about the sacrifices?”

Y/n tried to keep her expression steady, though she felt a flicker of dread deep inside. She didn’t know what was true and what was fiction anymore. But as she looked at the girl, she forced herself to keep her voice calm. 

“They’re just stories to scare us, aren’t they?” Y/n murmured, more for her own benefit than anyone else’s. “I’m sure the capital has better things to do than… that.”

The girl’s lips trembled into a small, hopeful smile. “I… I hope you’re right.”

Y/n settled back against the window, though her pulse was still racing. The cloth draped over the carriage windows dimmed the interior, casting everything in muted shadows. It made the cramped space feel even smaller, the dark corners pressing in on them like a heavy weight. She shifted uncomfortably, wishing she could pull back the curtain to see where they were going, but the guards had made it clear: the windows stayed covered.

The faint flickers of light that managed to seep through the fabric only teased at the passing scenery outside. Was it still farmland, or had they reached the outskirts of the capital? She couldn’t tell, and that uncertainty gnawed at her. Y/n’s reflection faintly mirrored back at her on the glass pane—her face pale, her freckles standing out like constellations against the dim light. She stared at herself for a long moment, wondering what the capital had planned for her.

The hushed sniffles of one of the girls nearby broke the silence, and the sound tightened the knot in her chest. Y/n turned her head slightly, her gaze flicking to the others. The frail brunette from before had drawn her knees to her chest, clutching the fabric of her skirt tightly in her fists, her lips pressed into a thin line to keep from sobbing aloud.

Another girl, with golden hair braided neatly over her shoulder, stared blankly at her lap, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the hem of her dress as though in a trance.

If anything, the sound of sniffles was annoying.

Y/n’s nerves were already taut, and the incessant whimpering only added to the stifling discomfort.

Across from her, Harlow Bianchi seemed to think so, too. The tall, sharp-eyed girl leaned forward, her lips pressed into a thin line of irritation. Finally, she snapped, “Will you get a hold of yourself, or do you want them to hear you crying?”

The frail brunette immediately shrank into herself, her sniffles cutting off abruptly, though her wide, watery eyes darted nervously toward the carriage door, as if expecting a guard to burst in at any moment. Harlow rolled her eyes, leaning back against the carriage wall. “Honestly,” she muttered under her breath, “as if the rest of us aren’t already miserable enough.”

Y/n glanced sideways at Harlow, unsure if she wanted to thank her for the silence or curse her for the coldness. Harlow caught her eye and raised a brow, her smirk sharp and humorless. “What? Don’t tell me you feel sorry for her.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Y/n replied flatly, but her jaw tightened.

Harlow scoffed, crossing her arms. “Good. Because pity’s not going to get anyone out of this mess.” Her voice dropped lower, though it carried the same biting edge. “If you think the capital cares about tears, you’re fooling yourself.”

Y/n turned her gaze back to the window, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. Harlow wasn’t wrong, but her words only added to the knot in Y/n’s stomach. The capital didn’t care about their tears or their fears. 

"Jerk," Y/n mumbled under her breath, just loud enough to voice her frustration but not loud enough for Harlow to hear. She didn’t want to get into it with the baker’s daughter—especially not now, when everyone was already packed like sardines in the cramped, stifling carriage, and the mood was about as cheerful as a funeral march.

Harlow didn’t seem to notice—or maybe she just didn’t care. She sat with her arms crossed and her legs stretched as far as the limited space would allow, exuding an air of indifference that grated on Y/n’s nerves. Across from them, the brunette was still sniffling softly, her tears now silent but persistent, and a pale blonde girl next to her patted her arm half-heartedly as though she wasn’t sure what else to do.

Y/n shifted uncomfortably, pressing her back against the wooden panel of the carriage. She stared at the cloth covering the window, trying to focus on the faint light filtering through it rather than the oppressive closeness of the space or the lingering taste of the roast sitting uneasily in her stomach.

Her thoughts drifted to home, to her family. Were they okay? Did Caleb leave, or was he still sulking somewhere in the barn? She frowned. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to think about Caleb, her mother, or her father’s worn face as he tried to stay strong for her. Not now. Not when she had no idea where she was being taken or what the capital would demand of her.

The carriage hit a bump, jolting everyone inside. Harlow cursed under her breath, and one of the other girls yelped, gripping the side of the seat as if that might stabilize her.

“Could they drive any worse?” Harlow muttered, shooting a glare toward the front of the carriage as though the guards could hear her through the thick wooden walls.

“Probably,” Y/n replied dryly, earning herself a brief, surprised glance from Harlow. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to break the tension, if only for a moment.

"LET ME OUT!" the brunette suddenly screamed, her fists pounding against the carriage door. The confined space seemed to amplify the sound, making everyone flinch. Before she could cry out again, Harlow leaned over and slapped a hand over the girl’s mouth with a sharp, resounding pop, silencing her. "Shut the hell up!" Harlow hissed, her eyes blazing with irritation. But before anyone could say another word, the carriage jolted violently, throwing the girls against each other as it screeched to an abrupt halt. The unmistakable sound of hooves clattering and muffled voices shouting outside followed.

“Fuck,” Harlow muttered under her breath, glancing toward the door as if expecting it to burst open at any second. She took her hand off of the girl’s mouth, wiping it off on her skirt in disgust. 

Heavy boots thudded outside, the sound drawing closer. The blonde froze mid-sob, her wild eyes darting toward the door as though she’d only just realized what she’d done. The other girls sat motionless, tension thick in the air, their breaths held in terrified anticipation.

The door creaked open, revealing one of the guards, his expression stony and unimpressed. “What the hell is going on in here?” he barked, his voice sharp enough to make the blonde flinch.

The blonde shrank back into her seat, her head bowed, but the guard wasn’t having it. He stepped into the carriage, his presence making the cramped space feel even smaller, and scanned the girls with a steely gaze.

“You think this is a game?” he growled, his eyes locking on the blonde. “You want to make this harder for everyone? Do it again, and I’ll make sure you’re gagged for the rest of the trip.”

“Please, I’m sorry,” she stammered, her voice trembling. “I just— I didn’t—”

“Enough.” His tone was final. He straightened, glancing at the rest of the girls. “Anyone else feel like causing problems?”

No one said a word.

“That’s what I thought.” He stepped back out of the carriage and slammed the door shut behind him. A moment later, the carriage lurched forward again, throwing everyone back against their seats.

For a while, no one spoke. The blonde sat hunched over, silently crying, while the rest of the girls avoided looking at her.

“Great,” Harlow muttered under her breath, breaking the silence. “As if this wasn’t bad enough already.”

Outside of the carriage, they can hear the men complaining about the brunette "That Miss Lindsey is pretty as a bird but god is she whiny." Outside the carriage, the muffled voices of the guards filtered through the walls, their conversation clear enough to hear over the clatter of wheels on the dirt road. “That Miss Lindsey is pretty as a bird,” one of them grumbled, his tone laced with irritation. “But gods, is she whiny. Makes me wanna rip my ears off.” A chuckle followed.

“You’d think with a face like that, she’d have more sense to keep her mouth shut.” “Pretty don’t fix stupid,” the first guard muttered. “If it did, this trip would be a lot quieter.” The second guard laughed.

“Betcha she’ll be the first one to cry when they see the Capitol. Always the loud ones that fall apart the fastest.” Their words stung even from behind the cloth-covered window, making Y/n’s stomach churn. She glanced at Lindsey, who sat trembling and pale, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.

The blonde was still silently crying, her tears slipping down her flushed cheeks. Whether she’d heard the guards’ cruel remarks was unclear, but the atmosphere in the carriage was heavy with discomfort.

“Assholes,” Harlow muttered, her arms crossed as she leaned against the side of the carriage. Y/n bit her lip, unsure of whether to feel pity for Lindsey or annoyance at how her outburst had painted a target on all their backs. 

Y/n shifted uncomfortably, her gaze flickering between the sobbing blonde and the others. The words from the guards were cruel, but there was something about them that made her feel uneasy. They weren’t wrong, though—Lindsey had made an already difficult situation worse, but that didn’t mean she deserved to be mocked.

The carriage jolted again, and the sounds of the guards grew fainter, but the weight of their words lingered in the air, hanging over the girls like a storm cloud. Y/n felt a tightening in her chest, a deep frustration that made her want to scream, but she knew better than to give into it. There was nothing to be gained from making noise, nothing to change.

"Assholes," Harlow repeated, though her tone had softened a little, like she was trying to calm herself. She flicked a glance toward the rest of the girls, her sharp eyes scanning the group.

"Keep your head down," she added quietly to Y/n, leaning in close. "We're all in the same mess, and the last thing we need is to start a fight among ourselves."

Y/n gave a small nod, but her thoughts were elsewhere. The weight of what was coming—the Capitol, the uncertainty, the fear—had settled in her gut like a stone. What would it be like when they finally arrived? What kind of people would they meet? What kind of future awaited them all in that foreign place?

Her fingers curled tightly into the fabric of her dress as she tried to block out the conversation of the guards and the sounds of Lindsey’s muffled sobs. She couldn’t think about that. Not now. Not when it was still too far away, still too unknown.

"Caleb’s an idiot," Y/n muttered to herself, more to focus her thoughts than anything else.

But it was true. Even if he had given her the ring, it wasn’t going to change anything.

***

After 2 hours, Lindsey's sniffles faltered for a moment, and she looked up, her tear-streaked face a mixture of surprise and hurt. The other girls in the carriage shifted uncomfortably, the tension growing thicker with each passing minute. Y/n's words hung in the air, her frustration too loud and raw to ignore.

"I said, shut it," Y/n repeated, her voice sharper now. She was past the point of caring about appearances or keeping the peace. The sound of Lindsey’s constant sniffling was grating on her nerves, and the weight of the situation was starting to crush her patience.

Lindsey wiped her face with a trembling hand, her lips quivering. "I—I’m sorry," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, but the quiet sobs started again almost immediately, quieter this time.

Y/n let out a frustrated breath and leaned back against the carriage wall. She hadn’t meant to snap, but the relentless tension in the cramped space, the discomfort of the journey, and the impending sense of doom were all catching up with her. The guards’ earlier words still echoed in her mind. She wondered if they thought they were all going to break the same way—if they thought all the girls were just fragile, easily crushed beneath the weight of whatever was waiting for them in the Capitol.

"Gods, if I wanted to hear all this crying, I’d have stayed back in Linkon if I could," Y/n muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.

A quiet silence fell over the carriage, the kind that made the air feel thick. Y/n’s mind raced with thoughts of the unknown, of what would happen when they reached their destination. Her chest felt tight, and though the anger at Lindsey was still there, it seemed small compared to the dread that had settled deep inside her.

At the edge of the silence, Harlow’s voice broke through. "Save it for when we get there, Y/n. We’re all stuck here, and none of us know what’s coming next. Might as well keep our heads down for now."

Y/n shot Harlow a quick glance, but she nodded in agreement. She didn’t want to start a fight that could only make things worse. She wasn’t sure what it was about the other girl’s tone—something almost sympathetic, something that made her feel like she wasn’t alone in this miserable situation.

The moments dragged on in silence, the only sound now the rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels on the road, the occasional sniffle from Lindsey, and the muffled voices of the guards outside. 

***

The landscape outside the carriage was bleak, a barren stretch of land that seemed to go on forever under the grey sky. The road they traveled on was a worn dirt path, riddled with potholes and ruts, making every bump feel like a sharp jolt to the bones. Dust rose in clouds behind them, settling over the carriage like a thin veil that blurred everything in its wake.

On either side of the road, sparse trees stood like forgotten sentinels, their branches bare, stripped of leaves by the harsh winds that blew across the open plains. There were no fields of crops or signs of life; only a few scraggly bushes and dry grasses clung to the earth. The land had an unwelcoming, desolate feel to it—empty, lifeless, as if it had long ago given up hope of seeing anything but the occasional passerby.

In the distance, dark hills loomed on the horizon, their tops barely visible beneath the heavy cloud cover that hung low in the sky. The clouds themselves were thick and oppressive, casting the world in a perpetual state of twilight, dimming the already muted landscape even further. The light that filtered through them was pale, as if the sun had lost its strength, struggling to break through the gloom.

As the carriage continued forward, the wind picked up, sending dry dust swirling around them. The smell of the earth was stale, mingling with the faint scent of the horses and the musty air inside the carriage. It was a landscape that seemed to suck all color from the world, leaving only shades of brown and grey. There was no sign of the vibrant world they had left behind in Linkon, no warmth or life to be found. Just the cold, harsh expanse leading them somewhere they didn’t want to go.

Just south of the carriage, a storm was gathering, its ominous presence impossible to ignore. The dark and swollen clouds seemed to churn with unnatural speed, twisting and folding into themselves like a living thing. The air grew heavier, thick with the promise of something violent. A faint rumble of thunder echoed in the distance, the first signs of what was quickly becoming a full-blown tempest.

As the storm surged, the wind began to howl, pushing the branches of the few remaining trees into frantic motions. Once a dull gray, the sky now darkened into an almost oppressive black, casting long shadows across the barren land. The edges of the clouds began to pulse with erratic flashes of lightning, brief but blinding as they illuminated the rolling hills below.

If Y/n could have seen through the cloth blocking her view, she would have noticed how the storm seemed to grow with every passing moment, sweeping across the land, sending dust and debris into the air like a prelude to a much larger chaos. The wind began to pick up, tugging at the fabric of the carriage and making the wheels creak as they spun through the uneven road.

The carriage creaked under the weight of its passengers, the sudden tension outside palpable as the storm rumbled closer. Y/n could hear the voices of the guards through the thin cloth, their conversation drowned out by the heavy wind that now howled through the trees. The distant flashes of lightning added an eerie glow to the landscape, but it was the storm itself—its raw power—that was starting to make her feel uneasy.

The guards’ calm dismissal of the weather only made the unease worse. They weren’t worried. But Y/n could sense something was wrong. The winds felt like they were building up, preparing for something violent to break.

The soil outside turned a dull red as the rain began to fall in steady droplets. It wasn’t heavy yet, but the land itself seemed to be reacting to the weather, the earth growing darker as if absorbing the rain in slow, deliberate swallows. The air smelled of damp soil and something metallic like the world itself was holding its breath.

Luke, the man at the reins, had glanced back towards the carriage, his brow furrowed with indecision. The hesitation in his voice when he asked if they should stop suggested that even he was starting to feel the weight of the atmosphere. But the guards, wrapped in their practicality, continued to push forward, determined to reach their destination on time.

"Keep going," one of the guards snapped, his voice sharp against the low growls of thunder. "The capital’s close, and we’re not stopping until we get there."

The winds howled louder as the carriage lurched forward, but the guards' determination remained unshaken. One of them, perhaps more eager than the others, chimed in with a casual tone, almost dismissive of the brewing storm.

"Right. We made good progress. We'll probably even get lucky and get there before the end of the month!" His voice rang with a sort of reckless optimism, though it didn't quite reach the eyes of the other guards, who were now glancing nervously at the skies.

Inside the carriage, the rhythmic motion of the wheels against the road and the hum of the wind outside lulled most of the girls into a sleepy haze. The constant rattling seemed to blend with the soft murmurs of voices, and soon, the atmosphere inside was thick with a quiet lethargy. Even the girls who had been fidgeting or whispering moments earlier were now resting, their eyes fluttering shut, unaware of the growing tension around them.

Y/n, however, remained alert. She wasn’t tired, not after the emotional weight of the past days, and the unsettling energy of the journey kept her wide-eyed. Her gaze flicked between the girls, their faces softened by sleep and the distant outline of the storm that loomed just beyond the windows.

The air in the carriage was stale, thick with the scent of damp fabric and the faint hint of fear. But despite everything, there was a quiet hum of resignation—of girls who had no choice but to sit in silence and let the storm, both outside and inside, unfold. The dark clouds that loomed beyond seemed to mirror the thoughts in her mind—heaviness, uncertainty, and an unsettling sense of foreboding.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as an unfamiliar sensation washed over her. It felt as though something was tugging at the very core of her being, pulling her in an invisible direction. Her chest tightened, and a heavy weight settled there as though a string was drawn tight across her ribs. The feeling was sudden and all-consuming, forcing her to clutch the side of the seat for support.

Her eyes darted around the carriage, looking for any explanation, but nothing seemed amiss. The other girls were still asleep, their faces relaxed and unaware. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to shake off the sensation, but it only seemed to grow stronger.

Was it the journey? Was it the tension of what was to come? No. This was something else. Something that felt familiar, yet distant—like an invisible hand reaching out to her, pulling her toward a place she didn’t understand.

She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breath. Her mind raced, images flashing in her mind of the sea, of the storm, of something deep beneath the waves, but nothing made sense.

With a quiet gasp, she steadied herself against the pull in her chest. The feeling was impossible to ignore.  

Y/n pounded her chest a couple of times, frustration mounting as the sensation continued to gnaw at her. It felt as if something—or someone—was pulling her, dragging her towards the sea, towards something that had always been just out of reach but never this intense. The pressure tightened, making it harder to breathe. She leaned forward, clutching her knees, as though trying to steady herself against the invisible force.

"Get a grip," she muttered under her breath, her voice low and strained. She looked around, half-expecting someone to notice her discomfort, but the other girls remained asleep, oblivious to her inner turmoil. She shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable, but it was useless. The feeling was unrelenting, and it seemed to grow stronger with every passing second. 

In desperate frustration, she slammed her fist against the side of the carriage, hoping for some relief, but it only made her chest tighter.

Why now? Why this feeling in the middle of this godforsaken trip?

As she sank back into her seat, she squeezed her eyes shut.

And the red soil got richer with the rain. 

copyright © 2024 Hellinistical all rights reserved. no part of this story may be reposted, edited, or reproduced without the author’s permission.

[no1deepspacehater]

Caleb x Reader: Little Rascals

Tags: Fluff, making out, kisses!

AN: i hope all 3 caleb nation members enjoy this <3 we need him back LADS devs please I beg

 Caleb placed the plate of popcorn in your lap before taking a seat next to you on the couch. He made himself comfortable by taking a generous helping of the blanket you two were sharing. The living room was dark, save for only the TV light that was currently playing some old-school movie about a group of kids. 

 “Did I miss anything?” Caleb asked, reaching into your lap for a handful of popcorn. 

 “Alfalfa’s on this sweet date with Darla right now, you didn’t miss much.” You nodded, taking a couple bits of popcorn for yourself. 

 “Youuuu are so beautiful, to meeeeeeee” 

 Caleb starts to crack up at the prepubescent, cracky, singing voice. You shush him, elbowing him, attention fully glued to the move. “Shut up! It’s sweet!” you chided.

 Caleb, holding his hurt ribs and another hand covering his snickers. “He sounds like a squeaky toy!” You threaten to elbow him again, and he quiets down a bit more. 

 “Oh, Alfalfa, you’re a sweetie poo!” Darla exclaims as she kisses him, making his hair stand straight up!

 “Am I a sweetie poo, pipsqueak?” Caleb laughs beside you, making kissy faces at you.

 You put a hand on his face to push him away. “Please, that only works for a smooth kid like Alfalfa, and you are not that.” You teasingly throw back at him. 

 “Hey, but I was a smooth kid!” 

 Giving him a side eye, you laugh. “You were not.” 

 Caleb leans back, a grin sneaking on his face as he leans back. “Looks like you’re getting memory problems, old lady.” He puts his finger on his lips in false thought. “I remember someone always asking me to ‘practice kissing’ with them… I think only a ‘smooth’ kid would have offers like that!”

 Face heating up at the memory, you threw popcorn his way to distract him from your red face. Yes, you had the biggest crush on your childhood friend. Well, ‘had’ would be a lie; you still do.

 When grandma wasn’t watching while the both of you played outside, you’d both slip behind a tree and ‘practice kiss’ like in those movies you’d both sneak to watch at night. Eventually, you both were caught and stopped; you’d thought he’d forgotten. 

 “You were the only other boy I knew.” You defended. 

 “We had Zayne.” 

 “Zayne would’ve said no, very quick and efficiently, might I add.” 

 “But you didn’t try to ask him.” 

 You rolled your eyes at his snide smirk. He was winning, and he knew it. “We were kids, anyway!” You tried to kill the topic. Any more of this, and you’ll explode. 

 Caleb puts an elbow on the edge of the couch, turning to you as he rests his head on his hand. “So, was I a good kisser?” 

 “I! Well…” He could obviously see how flustered you were. “It was too long ago! How do you expect me to remember that?” 

 Caleb’s eyes rake you in from up to down. He moves to take the popcorn bowl off of your lap, putting it on the counter. He settles his gaze on you again, this time letting his arm fall behind you on the couch. “We could do another ‘practice’.” 

 You turn your head to his finally, eyes locking with his. You could see he was dead serious with his proposition. His smile not so smirking, his eyes not holding that level of mischief it usually does when he’s teasing you (which is always). 

 “Let’s see how rusty you are then.” You don’t know how you managed such a line when your poor heart was about to beat out of your chest. 

 With proper consent, Caleb shifts forward. One hand lightly cups the side of your jaw as he leans in and connects his lips with yours. He places his lips between yours, lightly applying pressure repeatedly. His hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, lightly massaging, sending occasional shivers through you. 

 Your hands find one place on his thigh, lightly gripping the strong muscle for your own sanity. The other placed on his chest, feeling the toned muscles underneath his t-shirt. 

 You pull back slightly after a while. Both of your lips hover over each other as you take a breather. 

 “Not bad.” He whispers against you. He moves to the side of your neck, placing light kisses here and there. You let out a slight gasp as he starts to suck on a susceptible spot. 

 “New technique?” You breathe out, and he stops to laugh. 

 He’s back on your lips now, using his hand to gently open your jaw and slide his own tongue in. The air is filled with light moans and small smacking sounds as you both tongue each other down. 

 Caleb shifts to get on top of you but is stopped when the sounds of a door opening and muffled footsteps come from the hall. 

 You split from each other in seconds, settling on either side of the couch as Grandma walks in. 

 “You’re both still awake.” Grandma laughs as she turns to continue on her way to the bathroom. “Don’t go to sleep too late now!” 

 As she leaves, Caleb lets out a laugh. “Do you think she’d still chew us out if she caught us again?” 

 “I don’t know, but I don’t want to find out!” You laugh as well at the memory. Let’s just say Grandma can pull ears very hard. 

 Caleb looks over the couch down the hall to ensure you both were alone. He then leans over quickly, pressing a quick, final kiss. 

 “We’ll just have to practice some where else next time.” He grabs the popcorn from the table and turns off the TV. “Sleep well, pipsqueak.” 

[yuzuocha]

Caleb: Hey, Zayne

Zayne: What

Caleb: What's the most popular thing to wear while fighting wars?

Zayne:

Zayne: Please do–

Caleb: Casual-tees.

[lilisette]

Masks Under the Chandelier | Caleb/Reader

About: A fic idea wherein you and Caleb meet months later in a gala. To you, this person is a stranger you just met. But to this person, you were more than that...

Pairing: Caleb/Reader

Notes: Might actually write this tbh... Caleb is my favorite ngl hahaha...

Warnings: Spoilers for Chapter 4! Please do not read if you haven't read it yet!

Imagine there is a gala or some high class event where you have to attend, perhaps as part of the event's security detail. With all the Metafluxes and Wanderers going about, it's important that the organizers call a few hunters to protect them from harm. But them going in uniform will no doubt alert the guests so you have to go undercover and dress up in a formal party outfit, a gown or whatever you wish to wear.

And by chance, because of all the important people there, the organization that kidnapped Caleb (since he is not dead idc what the game says) is invited to attend too. So they send Caleb, undercover of course, to attend.

Caleb donned a new persona, dyed his hair, wear contacts and all to ensure no one would recognize him. He attends and lo and behold, he bumps into you while wandering the event hall.

While Caleb has a new persona, his voice is still unchanged and when Caleb, in shock, whispers your nickname, cause- wow you looks amazing-, you turn toward him in shock and-

"Pipsqueak?" "Caleb?" "I-" Caleb almost responded to your call, but quickly remembered that he isn't Caleb now... He could never be anymore. "Sorry miss...?" The hope that was evident in your eyes dimmed, and his heart broken all over again when your eyes softened, a sad smile gracing your face. "I'm sorry, I thought... I thought you were someone I knew for a moment." You said, the distance between you and him so close, yet so far. There was an invisible wall between you and him now, and he hated it.

You and him talk for a bit, about why you both were there. Caleb keeps getting distracted by you because he has never seen you like this before, dolled up and oh so beautiful under the crystal chandeliers. There were many times where he almost slipped up and mention something that only the both of you know, but he caught himself. And god does he hate it. He's your best friend from childhood dammit (yes zayne exists but he likes to think you prefer him over zayne), why can't he...

Why can't he be close to you anymore?

It's ironic, Caleb thought, that you were telling him, a stranger, things that he as Caleb never knew. He asked you about who you have mistaken him for, and the answer shook him to his core.

"My childhood friend. He is... well, was, my best friend." You say wistfully, staring off into the crowd and imagining what would it be like if he was still here with you. He was about to make another comment, but stopped when you opened you mouth to continue. "And perhaps... If he was still around... We would've been something much more than that." The guilt and sadness that pierced through him then was so overwhelming it almost made him kneel. And yet, like a glutton for punishment, he asked. "You think you two would've been lovers?" "Not without us being honest with each other for once. But eventually... Yes."

You two talk for a bit more until you both feel a spike in the air, your watch that was disguised as a bracelet alerting you to wanderers in the area. You tell him to not alert everywhere because it will incite panic, and made your exit.

Unbeknownst to you, he trails after you, just like the time before the whole explosion happened. He watches you take down the wanderers with ease but then he sees a wanderer spawning just behind you, and without second thought, he uses his own evol to fling the wanderer away.

But before you could turn to see who it was who saved you, he hides behind cover. And before you could approach the spot, the wanderer stands up again, giving him ample time to slip away.

He watches you return to your post afterwards, and when you spot him again, he asks you whether you're okay and-

"Yes I am, thank you for your concern. Though..." You trailed off, your mind still stuck on the mystery of who saved you back there. "Is there something wrong?" "No! No. I just... No, it's nothing, probably just my imagination." You said, looking away and into the crowd of guests who were unaware of the Wanderer sighting, missing the look of guilt that was plastered all over his face.

Caleb, even under a different persona, was constantly worried about you. He waited for you to report to captain Jenna and escorted you home after the whole event. Before opening the door to your apartment however, you turned towards him.

"You don't have to do this, you know." "I insist." He expected you to open the door and leave, and you two will never see each other again, but instead, you looked towards him and smiled. "I thought about what you said. I think... I think you're right. I should start moving on." You said, and before he could ask why you were telling him this, you handed him your phone. "If it's alright, can we exchange numbers?"

Caleb knew he shouldn't do this. The organization specifically said that he was not to contact you at all costs. But well, Caleb reasoned with himself, they didn't say he cannot contact you while under a new persona. So he gave you his number as well.

The moment you entered your apartment and him in the elevator, he leaned against the wall and sighed.

What the fuck did he just get himself into?

[nath-sanvit]

I was swapping screens when this happened. ... ...

NO.. NOT THE SENTENCE, THE SLIPPING SCREEN TO HIS BULGE. Now, I had to put 30mins of workout. Jesus....

[lilisettean]

Tempest in a Bathtub | Rafayel/Reader

About: Rafayel painting while he was bathing wasn't an uncommon sight. But you joining him was.

Pairing: Rafayel/Reader

Notes: Not gonna lie... For me, Rafayel is the hardest of all the 3 current love interests to write... I tried to keep his dialogue in character though! Please tell me if it's off the mark!

AO3: Read here!

Warnings: Hinted no protection. 18+ only please! Enjoy :)

“Weren’t you supposed to paint?” 

“How am I supposed to focus with you in front of me?”

Rafayel wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you towards him, your back flush against his bare chest. He felt hot, burning almost, behind you, contrasting against the cool water that you two were half submerged in. 

Moments ago, you stumbled upon him painting while in the bathtub again. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do so, as he explained that sometimes inspiration would come to him like a sudden gust of wind, here now and gone the next moment. But it was still a sight to see him paint like this, with supplies strewn all over the place.

He blithely said that you could join him if you wanted, seemingly uncaring at the thought you would have to strip down to do so. That quickly changed however, when he heard the faint rustling of fabric. 

The blush and stammering protests that left his lips soon appeared as you dip your toes into the cool water, his eyes on anywhere and anything but on you.

“Hey.” Rafayel’s voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Are you really spacing out while being here with me?”

“No. I was wondering why you are so shy to see me naked. It’s not like you haven’t seen a naked woman before.”

“That’s because they’re nude models posing for my work. But you are…” His voice trailed off, as if pondering what to say next. “You’re you.”

“Have you heard myths of the inspirational goddesses of old? They are the source of all knowledge pertaining to the arts. Muses are what they are called.” He explained as he toyed with a strand of your damp hair. “And you, my dear fishie, are my personal muse.”

“Should I start posing nude for you instead now? So you would have more inspiration?” You joked, expecting him to agree or laugh at your suggestion. But that was not the case.

“Oh. No. Please don’t do that.” He immediately objected, to your surprise. “I wouldn’t be able to focus at all.”

“Why?”

“Don’t be obtuse. I know you saw it.” Rafayel retorted with a huff. He wasn’t wrong however. 

You could feel his stiff cock pulsing against you, and honestly you already noticed it growing when you sat across him, his gaze fixed onto your breasts before turning away with a cough.

Despite the cool water surrounding the both of you, his cock felt hot against your skin, as though begging you to touch it. And who were you to deny him?

Your heat clenched at nothing, yearning for something to fill its emptiness when he groaned at you wiggling your hips against him. But before you could do anything more, he steadied you with a hand on your hips, stopping you.

“Instead of painting… I would be thinking about other things.” He breathed out a moment later, after attempting to calm the raging storm that was brewing inside of him. He then lowered his head, nipping your earlobe before continuing.

“Do you wanna know what?”

“...What?”

“You know… I love that face you make when you’re moaning my name. I wanna know how I can engrave that into my mind and store it for eternity.” His hands roamed your body as he confessed. One hand cupped your breast, his fingers grazing and tweaking your pert nipple; while the other trailed down your torso, slipping between your thighs and parting them without any effort.

He hummed in approval when he found your entrance hot to the touch, slick not with water, but your own juices. He prodded you, parting your folds and dipped two fingertips inside, making you squirm in anticipation. Before he slipped further however, he nipped your earlobe once more, and whispered.

“Would you mind showing it to me again?”

Instead of giving him the go, you shifted your hips forward, pushing yourself down his fingers.

“So eager.” He commented, breathless. No matter how many times he fingered you, he would never tire of the sight of you coming undone before him. This proper, strong bodyguard of his turning into a whimpering mess because of him.

His long slender fingers prodded your soft walls, reaching places that you could never reach on your own. And before long, your hips started to move on its own, fucking yourself on his fingers. 

“Rafayel–” 

“Mhm?” He may sound calm but his actions were nowhere near but. You were not only riding his fingers, you were also grinding your hips against him while doing so, rubbing the side of his stiff cock. And just like you, his hips moved on its own as well, rutting and sliding the underside of his cock against you.

Water sloshed out of the bathtub you both were in, splashing onto the wooden floor. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when his fingers grazed past your clit with every move. He tilted your head back and captured your lips, parting them with his tongue and groaning into the kiss.

Something clicked within him the moment you moaned his name once more. With one smooth motion, he pulled his fingers out of you and lifted you up into his arms, carrying you as he exited the bathtub.

Before you could ask what he was doing, he propped you onto the counter, your breasts pressing against the cool marble surface.

He gave you no chance to speak. Because as soon as you were on the counter, lying and your heat exposed to him, you felt a familiar pressure against your entrance.

“Sorry… I don’t like waiting.” He apologized, but didn’t sound sorry at all. If anything, he was enjoying your whimpering as he pushed his throbbing cock inside of you, and sighed when you moaned at his short thrusts to get his entirety enveloped with your tight walls.

Planting a kiss onto the back of your neck, Rafayel gently lifted your chin up, and made you come face to face to your debauched state. 

“Show me my sweet mermaid… Show me all the expressions you like to make.”

[rumeras]

|Classmate!Caleb & Childhood friend!Zayne|

Classmate!Caleb who waits for you outside in the sweltering heat with an ice pop and a lopsided smile. Telling you that you better hurry up and thank him before he eats yours.

Childhood friend!Zayne who copies down an extra set of notes to hand off to you when he comes to your house. You didn’t go into school today for a cold and he was worried you’d fall behind.

Classmate!Caleb who says you’re like that annoying younger sibling he never wanted. But when you laugh a little too hard at someone else’s joke he gets pouty and mushes your head extra hard.

Childhood friend!Zayne who can’t seem to not find you amongst the crowded halls and offer you a small tilt of his head in greeting. Every. Period.

Classmate!Caleb who calls attention to himself before you get the answer wrong in front of the whole class to save you the embarrassment.

Childhood friend!Zayne who smiles softly in greeting to your grandma on parents day as she positions herself between you and Zayne. His parents were away on business as usually, but he’s her kid too.

Classmate!Caleb who teases you by holding your textbook above his head in the hallway. Even going as far as pushing his nose against yours to say suggestively, Give me something in return and it’s yours. You kindly knee him in the groan, humming as you walk off with your book.

Childhood friend!Zayne who asks you to go to prom with him by leaving a book on your nightstand that says, Open me. Inside written in his pretty slanted semi cursive handwriting, Do me the honor of being my date to prom? To which you race over his house in your pajamas to tell him in person, of course you’ll go.

Classmate!Caleb who somehow gets you dragged into detention because he doesn’t want to be alone. To which you spend the whole hour blatenly ignoring him.

Childhood friend!Zayne who helps you study for your midterm the night before because you always cram. He’s always telling you to study and that he won’t help you the night before. But when you call him overwhelmed and stressed, he rushes over to help.

»»

A/N: I literally have no idea of Caleb’s personality but these seem right lmfao Zayne being the mush he is as well

[flaneur001]

Velvet Whispers

A short drabble about your first week in the N109 zone

Pairings- Zayne x Fem Reader

Tags- Angst, Nostalgia

The blanket felt soft, feathery light against your cheek. You pulled its edges closer, cocooning further into its warm embrace. 

Curling in on yourself, you blinked, observing the shadows dancing around the pitch darkness enveloping your room. 

It was late. But that wasn’t new for you. The street light splitting through the blinds half covering your window, burst into abstract patterns across the ceiling, moving in hypnotizing shades of scarlet. Your personal makeshift aurora.

A strange thing it was, really. If you closed your eyes right now, you could almost imagine you were back at the arctic. Sitting outside on the freezing porch of a woodsy cabin. The fresh scent of snow covered trees thrumming in the air, and the cold coming to take you captive, flanked by the preening mountainous air in its posse.

You could see yourself hiding your smiles behind the warm kisses of overly sweet hot chocolate. Content in simplicity. Happy.

Nostalgic

Longing…for the time when sleep came easy.

You hummed the beginnings of a lullaby. An old favorite. A familiar tune. Yet today it sounded moody. Or was it your feelings bleeding their melancholy into the soft notes?

You outstretched your hand, clenching and unclenching. Fanning your fingers, and recounting. Counting.

One…Two…Three

Caleb…Grandma…Zayne

You smiled at the tightening sensation in your throat. Your eyes stung, but no tears came out. You had cried yourself empty. Shed your emotions until you were hollowed. A husk of a person you used to be.

The nights were eerily silent in the N109 zone. Heavy with the looming askance of winged creatures, that watched over the sleeping world.

It was moments like these when you selfishly yearned for Zayne. His cold hands, yet sunny eyes. The clumsy, clipped words he sutured together into expressions that thawed the icy doubts chaining your heart. 

His lingering embraces, and his quiet stealthy confessions, whispered after a kiss to your temple when he thought you were asleep.

What would you give to say those words back now.

Sighing, you shuffle into the plush of velvety sheets, subconsciously shielding your face from the concealed gaze of the unknown.

You twirled the blanket around your finger and hummed again. 

Sleep wasn’t coming tonight either.

Gently gently let your eyes close

Sweet little lady, perched atop a rose

Far and away from the biting cold

An icicle safe amidst the flowery hold

Pillowy perfumed petals will make your repose,

So dream little lady…rest in the embrace of this snowy rose

[lemonmoonmochi]

If you know me in real life NO YOU DONT