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[nixthisis]

MDNI! —#CALEB ( L&DS ) x IMPLIED FEM!READER

PAIRING: Caleb x Implied Fem! Reader (love and deepspace)- this part is pretty gn tbh but there's room for a part two that I would feel comfier writing with fem foundations! &. GENRE: established relationship, cheeky caleb with some suggestive at the end <3 &. WARNINGS: clothes manipulation? I lowkey messed around with the mind powers for fantasy idc, reader wears a skirt and is a little mean to him, pet names &. WORDCOUNT: 0.6k

nixnote; he's so gross im so in love with the him in my mind. :(( infold please don't ruin him i'll be very upset you don't know him like I do ( for legal reasons that is a joke ). I don't know the in's and out's of his power obviously nor do I really grasp telekinesis and what it can and can't entail but this was hot in my mind so I wrote it *shrug shoulders*

"quit it. I'm not playing" you warn him, hands cupping the material of your skirt to the curve of your behind- eye's redirecting to glare at him in hopes that it will deminish the joy he gets from using his evol to mess with you. It does momentarily, just long enough for him to sling his hands up in defence as though they were the body part to blame, laughing as he does so.

You huff out a deep, irritated breath that is paired with an eye roll equal in emotion as the covering begins to slink up the span of your thighs for the umpteenth time in the hour, "seriously Caleb?"

He's still pretending to be on guard. Eyes cast downward in concentration and hands held firmly by his head, palms outward, which does nothing for the anger levels rising with-in you. It espescially doesn't aid you when he pulls the fat of his lower lip between his teeth as he blatantly ignores you to refocus himself and get back to work- successfully rolling your attire a few more inches into the dange zone.

"Caleb!"- nothing, not even a response when you yank the skirt back down as far as it can sit.

"Okay, that's it. I'm going home"

That seems to snap him back too reality (woah there goes gravity), whining as you forcefully push you way past his side to return to the route you had came from- "ah baby! don't be like that, we haven't even gone for dinner yet!"

"I'm aware, go yourself" it's harsh, probably more than you intended but he's been pushing it for hours now- in public, "come back home when you can control yourself"

He nods, tall frame shrinking in on himself as he let's you leave- only opening his mouth enough to mumble that you should text him when your home as always. Something you know you would have done regardless.

—

He returns in a way you've very much grown to expect from a Caleb who's been trod on ever so slightly, fingers clamped around a wonky boquet of miss matched flowers; colour scheme barely making sense.

"I um-" he starts, awkwardly parked at the foot of the bed, "I couldn't decided on just one bunch".

His sincerity washes over you with a pout that journeys to a delicate smile and you shimmy down the bed to hook your ankles behind his hips and pull him down on top of you- blooms falling from him as you do so. You take the time to spread your fingers through the hair at the base of his skull and tuck him face first into the skin of your neck; stretching ever so slightly to accommodate him, feeling his breath tickle before he even gets the chance to speak.

"Shush, just keep me company.." you pull slightly at the tufts in your hands, "... you've wound me up enough today"

Theres a snort of air that follows, lightening the weight of the statements thrown his way over the course of the day and you know it's better accepted when his chest shakes in tandem with your own- the breathiest 'yeah' meeting your ears during.

He lays with you for a while, unusually long for his typically busy self; hands and mind preferring to have a task to focus on in some form. and then you feel the slow circles as he begins to trace his way higher up the very same skirt, pausing to dig at the flesh with a singualr thumb.

"Caleb..." you sigh- eyes, voice and body grown heavy already and he's took to suckling at the perfumed skin at your throat, ignoring the tang in his mouth from your chosen scent.

"-m sorry pretty" he's low in his vocals, "just my hands this time? no mind games" he bargains, smirk pulling flush to your skin when you meet his wandering hands to guide them.

—

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[nixthisis]

—#CALEB ( L&DS ) x IMPLIED FEM!READER

PAIRING: Caleb x Implied Fem! Reader (love and deepspace) &. GENRE: Workplace Au x Secret Relationship &. WARNINGS: alcohol consumption! &. WORDCOUNT: 0.6k

nixnote; I wrote this in one single sitting because it came to me in a daydream </3 please don’t laugh at how down bad I am for Caleb. ☁️ ( excuse any grammatical or spelling errors it is 3am )

It comes as quite the suprise actually; that your workplace peers haven't caught on to the smattering of hints that you may be dating a fellow co-worker, especially considering how smooth his mouth can be around you, charming personality forever present in your company- dopey smile and all.

The relationship still slides by them when he saddles up to you in the breakroom, weight settled on the balls of his feet as he leans his behind into the table to your right-

"Say…, you’re single right? and im single, right?" he teases, the fat of his tongue pressing through the gaps in his teeth. You allow him his moment, playing into the fantasy.

"I don't know, are you?"

Caleb rejoices in your ability to match his humour, nosey eyes watching as he makes passes at you over and over again on the clock; bewildered by his ability to keep at it, even when your seemingly bored and cold tone responds.

"I could be" he shrugs, nonchalant- "go to the company ball with me."

It's not a question but almost a demand- unnecessary if it weren't for the small matter of your relationship being against company rules, forcing you to keep wandering hands behind closed doors and warm words for private endevours.

He gets all the confimation he needs when your lip quivers ever so slightly, just enough to resemble a smile; and his eyes stay with yours until the room returns to a overlayed mess of conversations— already bored of witnessing him shoot his shot.

—

Steady hands lead you into the venue a week later, easing you through the halls before him as though to show you off as he works his way to the bar in a weave of directional changes.

"and what does the lady want this evening?" he questions with a fake accent lacing his words as he leans across your back, a hand either side to protect you from the moving current of people behind that threat to sweep you away.

You spin in his arms and smooth out the lapels of his suit jacket, "the lady would like a surprise."

—

The drinks come in a well received flow all evening thanks to Caleb; who always the gentleman, had assigned himself your driver for the event and offered to rely on soft drinks to get him through the night. It works out well for you in particular, often finding him waltzing over, tall glass in hand when your feet have carried you further into the pits of celebration.

He returns once more to greet you at the edge of the dancefloor where the women of the office have started to collect; slow dancing together as their partners find interest in each others mundane chat. You’re hunched over the volume of your own dress, nimble fingers messily pulling at the clasp of your heel; the other already dangling from the middle finger on your left hand.

Freedom greets you just as Caleb squats down by your side to assist, straightening up to full height along side you as you begin to ascend with a crack of your knees.

"Ah! there you are!"— your pitch is much higher than usual, alcohol having already took hold of your sense as you grab for the flute in his fingers; downing it in one swift motion, not even taking time to question the contents.

There's the begginings of a response stopped in its tracks as you force your discarded heels into his chest harder than you would ever intend, your intoxicated state affecting your normal code of conduct. Caleb's shocked by all that you manage to do in a matter of seconds— only made worse when you hold him by the face in one hand, thumb and pointer finger squishing his lips into a pout and your mouth follows suit.

He's left to awkwardly chuckle off the bugging eyes around you guys when you rush to join the group still dancing, fist coming up to sheepishly tangle in the hair on the back of his own head.

—

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