caleb who gets into an unprecedented flying accident and needs you to nurse him to recovery. on his journey to recovery he’s mastered wincing and appearing to be in pain with full believability.
he rubs your thigh slowly as you sit on the bed.
“i need help with breakfast… it’s hard for me to eat.”
you’ve got that sympathetic look on your face caleb loves as you bring the spoon of oatmeal to his mouth.
“tastes better when you feed it to me” he says sheepishly
you’ve always doted on him, but he loved the special type of care you provided him when he was injured or sick. you treated him like the most fragile thing in the world. for once, he had your attention 24/7, uninterrupted by anything else — away from the world, all the noise, your devices… just the two of you and your cozy apartment — he refused to head back to his skyhaven place. your place was better.
you put off everything to look after him and caleb loved it. you called off work and all social events. you technically didn’t need to stay with him all day, everyday, after the 4 week period — where he was most dependant on your care due to the severity of his injuries, but he was still feigning great pain and a difficulty to do basic tasks.
the way you attended to his every need, the way you let out those soft sounds of concerns whenever he would do anything “oh baby… you poor thing… let me” as you rush to help him, the way you gently brushed any remnants of food from his mouth with your thumb, the way you helped him bathe — those soft strokes against his back. he loved every moment of this and carefully calculated how long he could milk his injuries. two more months couldn’t hurt, right?
🏐 "𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑩 𝑿𝑰𝑨," ◦ ₊ㅤ ﹙ nsfw slapping caleb during sex ꗃ .. smut mdni ꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ mina says this is so self idulgent idc sfsjdh ⁀ ˳ ⟡
"Please," he was begging, hips shallowly thrusting against your plump ass, his large hands gently pinning your legs down against your chest to fold you in half. He was desperate, so down bad, and so fucking hard. Eyebrows furrowed, eyes half lidded, and mouth agape to gasp for little breaths of air, looking on the verge of busting inside of you but edging himself to prolong the pleasure.
“Y-you’re gross..” you gasped out softly, resting back on your forearms, closing one eye and moaning when he thrusted just deep enough to hit that spongey spot. Eyes glazing over his needy face, as you tried to look as annoyed.
His thrusts only got quicker and more shallow, shameless whimpers spilling free from his lips as he nodded. “more… c’mon, insult me, slap me, hit me…” he whined, groaning out when he felt your tight pussy squeeze around him. Walls clamped down around his dick, “f-fuck… fuckfuckfuck…” he moaned quietly, as he bit down on his bottom lip and moved his hips much slower, knowing he was about to cum any second now.
“You’re dumb, a-annoying, arrogant, and you think you own me,” you whined and rattled off, stuttering from his thrusting cock, looking at him with tense eyes. That was before you pouted, and leaned up just a little, moving one of your arms quickly.
SLAP!
His breathing hitched, a red mark blooming on his stinging cheek. The room going quiet after your slap, but you didn’t seem sorry or bothered. Laying back down when you felt his dick twitch inside of you, whining softly. His eyes traced back into your naked body beneath him, gaze darkening and tongue pressing against the inside of the cheek you had slapped. He let out a shameless moan before grabbing your thighs tighter and pushing them apart roughly.
“Fuck. You’re so hot.”
Unable to hold back anymore, he sped up his thrusts, lifting his hips back and slamming against your plump ass fast and hard. Squeezing his eyes shut and furrowing his eyebrows, mouth agape in a silent moan. His hips thrusted erratically, your bedroom filled with the creaking of the bed, your moans, and the sound of his hips going “plap! plap! plap!”
He threw his head back, “a-agh..!” moaning out as his hips stuttered, when he finally came deep inside your pussy. Hot, sticky cum flooding your hole as you whimpered and squirmed, body aching and tired.
His hips began to gently roll when his orgasm subsided, looking down at you lustfully. His left hand moving to your inner thigh and thumb gently rubbing and swirling over your clit.
⁀➴☕︎ | Papa!Caleb won't stand for his son disrespecting his wife
"Hey" You greet your son, ignoring the bag he's just flung onto the couch as he storms into the kitchen "How was your day?"
"What do you think?" He snaps, coming to stand across from you around the island "Everyone- and I mean, everyone went to the concert last night! No no-" He retraces his words, shaking his head "Not everyone because I was stuck at some dumb airshow I didn't even want to go to!"
You sigh, one of long suffering as you come around to put a hand on his shoulder "Hon, we talked about this. Your Dad was being commended at the event and as family, if we didn't go-"
Your son's obviously not listening to reason as he goes on, shrugging your arm off "Yeah? Well, then you should've gone alone! Do you know what it was like to sit there and hear everyone talk about what a great night it was and how much fun they had?" Flinging his arms around, he huffs "Steven even got to go backstage and grab signed posters"
Your usually sweet boy behaving in such a flippant manner was surprising but then again, going to highschool and adjusting to the workload obviously was not easy on him and you were trying your best to be understanding "How about next time they're in town, I'll get you VIP tickets?"
"God knows when that will be" He rolls his eyes, scoffing as he pulls off his hoodie "I'm sick and tired of missing out. You won't let me join the summer camp, I can't apply for the exchange program and I didn't even bother asking if I could participate in the annual fest because-" Making air quotes and twisting his face in a sneer, he spits out "-I have curfew"
Your brows furrow at that, frown pulling at your lips "Why wouldn't you sign up for that? We'd have given you permission and even swung by to check out the scene"
"Because you never let me do anything! I can't stay out a minute past my curfew without getting grounded. I have to trade in schoolwork for free time because you guys are too wound up. Cut me some fucking slack, Mom"
"Language" You immediately snap, like a reflex, and your son's face twisting further into annoyance is clear indication that you're proving his point "We let you do tons of other things, alright? Just because we have some non-negotiables doesn't mean we're being too much"
"Like what?" He's getting agitated by the second, voice pitching higher as a vein protrudes on his temple. And in that moment, with his amethyst orbs glinting with anger, he looked like a spitting image of his Father, almost making you do a double take.
"We took you to that gaming event you wanted to go to! And and- bought you the Lego set you wanted" Sighing, you step closer to him again and put your arm around his shoulders this time "You know we just care about your safety and that's why we want you home on time. When you go to college, you'll have all the freedom to do whatever you want. Is it so bad that we want our son to spend time with us right now?"
Slapping your arm away, your son picks up his hoodie from where he'd tossed it, seething in a scalding voice "Ever wondered if I wanna spend time with you, Mom? I'm kinda sick of you guys"
You can still feel the sting on your skin from where he'd slapped it away. Looking into his enraged eyes, you want to be patient with him, understand that it's coming from a place of burnout and stress with a heavy dose of feeling left out. But you can't help the hurt seeping into your bones at his flippant behavior, wondering when it became okay for him to dismiss your feelings.
He's brushing past you but stops short and even steps back. Not because he heard the sniffle you'd tried to suppress but because someone else had.
"Hey, buddy? Disrespect my wife again and you and I will cease having any blood relations till I put you in your place"
You hadn't even heard Caleb come in. But suddenly the entire room filled with his presence. Especially with the words he'd just delivered to his son, speaking in a tone so low that it was more threatening than if he had yelled.
"Now apologize to her immediately and never, ever speak to her like that again. You hear me?"
You want to tell him to stop. That you know your son was going through a rough patch and all teenagers behaved this way but you were too busy trying to hold the tears in to interrupt. Next to you, your son looks visibly pale. Sure, he admired and respected his Dad and almost never suffered any dire consequences for any mistakes he made but to see his father so visibly vibrating with the effort it took to suppress his anger, he was terrified.
When he fails to respond, Caleb's voice claps into the room like a lightning strike "Speak up, did you hear me?"
"Yes, sir" Your son is also on the verge of tears as he turns to you "I'm sorry, Mom"
You're about to respond but Caleb cuts in "Good. You're grounded for two weeks and will hand in your phone every night before bed. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir"
"Go to your room and tidy up. I'll be with you in a minute, we're going to address this little behavior properly" Your son has never faced his father's wrath this way and is desperate to make amends as he grabs your arm so you could shield him away like you always did.
Caleb's eyes drop to his trembling arms and he pulls you back against him, making him let go of you "No. You don't get to speak to her like that and use her as your defense too. She'll forgive you when she wants to"
You almost want to comfort your son when you see the kicked puppy look in his eyes as he sniffles, moving past you both to go upstairs and await further scolding.
For a long moment after he leaves, neither you nor Caleb move. He's still got his arm wrapped around your shoulder and after a tense moment, you lean into him "When did you get home?"
"Just in time to hear enough. We didn't raise him to be ungrateful like that. I almost threw him out of the house"
"Caleb-"
"No, Pips. He needs to learn that just because his Mother pampers him, he can't get away with talking to you like that" Turning you in his arms, Caleb bends to your eyelevel "And you need to stop letting him"
"He's just a little boy. Our little boy. You know he's had trouble adjusting since we moved last year. He's right, maybe we should cut him some slack"
"We can do that without excusing the disrespect" Kissing your shoulder, Caleb straightens "Let me talk to him, alright?"
He's about to walk away when you grab his arm "No matter what conclusion you come to, my son is not sleeping outside as punishment"
Smiling, Caleb presses a quick kiss into your hair "I'll try" When you give him a stern look, he laughs "I promise I'll try to be more...lenient"
You hear his footfalls on the staircase, a quick knock followed by the quiet thump of the door closing. As you start prepping for dinner, you relax more. Caleb pampered his son just as much, if not more. You trusted him enough to know he'd handle the situation with care.
You're putting the lid on the pot and clearing out the space when you feel arms around your waist, hugging you tightly from behind as your son sniffles against your back "I'm really sorry, Mom. I'll do better from here on out"
Smiling, you turn to hug him back "I'm really glad to hear that and-" You pull back till he's looking at you, nose red and eyes slightly puffy that indicated that he really did feel awful "-I forgive you, okay? Don't beat yourself up over it anymore" You squeeze him tightly once again and ruffle his hair before kissing his head "Now go freshen up before dinner"
He's exiting the kitchen, nodding at Caleb who was leaning against the doorway watching the entire exchange. Once he's gone, Caleb takes his place and wraps his arms around you, sighing deeply into your hair and making you laugh.
"How'd it go? I'm guessing good?"
"Hardest thing I've had to do in my life" Caleb admits as you run your fingers through his hair, patting his back while he tightened his arms around you "Thank God we didn't raise a troublemaker though I did promise we'll revisit the discussion for summer camp"
"You handled it well" You praise as Caleb pulls back to look at you, your fingers mussing up his hair into that cute, dorky look you'd first fallen in love with "Really well" At your conspicuous grin, your husband's eyebrows nearly touch his hairline when your fingers start twisting in his shirt "No one gets away with disrespecting your wife, huh?"
Caleb's fingers reach under your shirt, drawing patterns on your skin as he pulls you closer "You're my wife before you're his mother. He needs to learn that" Kissing your jaw, he nips at the skin as he whispers "So yes, nobody talks to my wife like that without facing consequences"
"Nobody?" You grin up at him.
Lowering his mouth against yours, Caleb's also grinning "Some of us have special privileges-" You jump when you hear your son's bedroom door shut again, trying to pull out of your husband's grip but he's insistent "Relax, babe. He knows how he was made and that the stock story isn't true"
Swatting his arm, you chastise "Caleb!" You're trying to escape his hold but it's hard to remember why you want to when he's got his hands on you like this and is kissing that secret spot under your ear like that "He could come downstairs at any time and- and...and dinner- oh"
Caleb's smirk is marred into your skin as he's bending your back over the counter "If we can make a baby when I'm D-12 minutes away from being wheels up, then this should be a piece of cake, right?"
Yandere!Boyfriend x Reader (ft. Reader's cat that hates him)
Yandere!Boyfriend views himself as a dark, calculating mastermind who has meticulously eliminated every rival in your life. He took care of the flirty coworker, he blocked your annoying ex, and he curated your entire schedule around him. But his entire criminal empire completely crumbles the second he steps into your apartment and locks eyes with your 8-pound tabby cat, Mr. Chonk.
Mr. Chonk doesn't just dislike him; Mr. Chonk recognizes him as an apex predator trespassing on his territory. The very first time your boyfriend tried to sneak a lock of your hair while you were napping on the couch, the cat dropped from the top of the refrigerator like a tactical navy seal, hissed directly into his face, and swatted him across the nose. It was an instant, blood-soaked declaration of war.
His yandere logic is completely warped by this animal. He genuinely treats the cat like a romantic rival. He’ll sit on the kitchen floor, glaring at the cat under the dining table, and hiss back in a whisper so you won't hear him. "You think you're safe because she feeds you? I could replace you in a second, you furry little demon. She’s mine. Stop looking at her like that." Mr. Chonk just blinks at him and licks a paw, completely unfazed.
Yandere!Boyfriend realizes very quickly that if he wants to achieve his ultimate goal of moving in with you and keeping you all to himself, he has to earn the cat's trust. If he doesn't, you’ll never let him sleep over. So, his data-mining and stalking skills are suddenly redirected toward animal behavior. He spends hours on the dark web and sketchy forums, not looking up your background, but searching: “How to bribe an aggressive feline,” “Cat psychology manipulation,” and “Can you gaslight a cat into liking you?”
Yandere!Boyfriend's attempts at bribery are incredibly intense and deeply dramatic. He’ll show up at your apartment with a bouquet of roses for you, and a literal premium can of wild-caught salmon for the cat. He’ll slide the dish under the couch where the cat is hiding, kneeling on the carpet with a deadpan, serious look on his face. "Eat the tribute, beast. Let us form an alliance. We both want her to stay inside forever. We are on the same side." Mr. Chonk just bats the can away and claws his finger.
Yandere!Boyfriend gets aggressively jealous of the affection you give the cat. If you’re sitting on the couch, scratching Mr. Chonk behind the ears and cooing about how he’s "the handsomest boy in the whole world," your boyfriend will literally pout. He’ll crawl over, shove his own head into your lap right next to the cat, and look up at you with wide, desperate eyes. "I'm handsome too. I don't shed. And I don't scratch you. Pet me instead, please." This usually results in the cat swatting his forehead again, sparking a silent glaring match right in your lap.
Yandere!Boyfriend eventually tries to use high-tech gamer gear to win the war. He buys a super-powered, military-grade laser pointer to entertain the cat, thinking he can tire out his rival. He stands in the center of your living room, frantically flicking his wrist, running the red dot up and down the walls while laughing like a cartoon villain. "Yes! Run! Consume your energy, creature! Collapse from exhaustion so I can have her undivided attention!"
The day Mr. Chonk finally decides to tolerate him is the funniest day of his life. Your boyfriend is sitting on the couch, completely drained and miserable because you went to the store, and the cat casually hops up, sniffs his leg, and plops down right on his chest completely pinning him to the cushions. When you walk back into the apartment, you find your terrifying, possessive boyfriend frozen stiff, breathing softly, with a terrified but triumphant look on his face. He whispers to you: "Don't move. Don't make a sound. The demon has accepted my offering. I am officially part of the hierarchy. We can get married now."
It's no coincidence that every sign of showing frustration or confusion is considered disrespectful when a child does it to a parent.
A child raising their voice, not enough to strike terror and not even enough to startle, but barely enough to show frustration, is considered disrespectful. Meanwhile, in a typical conversation between two adults, the same amount of voice-raising would happen on a regular basis and people would think nothing of it.
A child rolling their eyes, which is caused by confusion and can easily be involuntary, is considered disrespectful.
If a child found another way to express confusion or frustration, that would eventually be added to the list of things that are considered disrespectful.
The goal is to make it so the child is afraid to show confusion or frustration. Then, when the child shows no confusion or frustration, the parent can pretend that the child is happy and that the parent is doing a good job. The parent can then pat themself on the back and congratulate themself for a job well done while never having to actually care what effect they have on the child.
going to the pharmacy with bakugou and the aim is just to grab two boxes of xl condoms but the five minute trip turns into twenty when he slaps the boxes on the counter but then you put down a new blush you wanna try, two lip balms, your multivitamins and a bag of chocolate for the car.
pointing to one of the lip balms, “ones for you so we can match.”
and he just laughs a huff out his nose.
when all the items get scanned through he nudges you and you pull out your phone to show your membership card so you can collect points. “i’m saving up my points for a new hairdryer.”
“how many do you need?” he hums, pulling out his wallet and licks his thumb to count his cash.
“about ten thousand.”
“how many do you have?”
“three hundred.”
he glances over at you, a raised eyebrow and cocked jaw. you can read him clearly, he thinks you’re being a little… optimistic. he hands three clean bank notes over to the cashier.
“thanks man.” he says to the cashier who looks at him with starry eyes. a dynamight fan you can only assume.
then to you, “i’ll just buy it for you. that’ll take you ages.”
he lets you take the bag of chocolate so you can nibble on some on the way and he grabs the two boxes of condoms, your blush, your multivitamins and the two lip balms in one hand.
“i just keep using them but i’m going to try. imagine a free hairdryer.”
takes your hand with his other hand and pulls you under his arm.
“it’s also free if i buy it for you. use your points for the condoms next time.”
i feel like caleb is notorious for taking your leftover stuff. he’ll eat after you, he’ll drink after you. if you leave a cup of juice out on the counter, he’ll down it in one go before he puts it in the dishwasher. if you throw out your body wash a bit early and there’s still some left in the bottle, he’s stealing it, finishing it off, scraping the sides clean. he’s just always there to tidy your mess, to shoulder your burden—whether it’s one you created in earnest or one he orchestrated himself. he’s spoiled you for years, making it rare for you to clean up after yourself all the way—but it’s only so he can make use of what you leave behind.
somehow this got me thinking about bottom feeder fish caleb x angelfish mc, especially in that he debases himself while exalting her. he’s doomed to the darkness, only privy to remnants of her light, etc etc. or a less pleasing metaphor: he’s a scavenger animal, mc’s the carcass. he's picking at all the parts of you he can because those fleeting moments of unbridled access are all he has—he doesn't know when, or if, the next one will come
campus heartthrob and resident fuckboy GOJO SATORU shocks everyone by going exclusive with you
gojo satoru settling down was as unlikely as catching the hour hand of a clock moving.
notorious for being a lady's man , he had it all going for him. he was all bedroom eyes and cheesy smiles that can make anyone's knees go weak. he was full of loud laughter and nonchalant swagger.
like he didn't give a damn.
cigars for breakfast, skipping lunch to attend classes if he felt so, hard liquor with his frat boys and a different woman in his bed at night—for dinner of course.
he had the face, he had the body, he had the charisma. none could blame the poor souls who wanted a taste, even for just one night.
and satoru. oh. satoru was just a guy. who was he to turn away the beautiful ladies? he didn't chase after them, it was just his luck that they came to him first.
then he caught his first glimpse of you. at his party, looking so out of place that made his eyes zero in on you. not even a cup in your hands. looking so good that it made him want to do something bad.
so he slid up to your side with his usual confidence. started a conversation he could hardly care about. and ultimately, was shocked into silence when you hit him with a "sorry, that pea in your bed is going to bruise my back".
rejected him.
rejected him.
and thus began satoru's chase. the chase for your heart.
the local campus gossip forum ruminated , 'the heartthrob, gojo, has been caught getting rejected by unknown woman. the university has since, seen a rise in the number of women left unsatisfied as gojo's bedroom door has been closed for shocking reason. is a reform on the way? is exclusivity on the horizon? '
heads turned as the usually absent satoru was seen attending classes almost to the point of regularity.
gasps rang out when someone leaked a picture of him handing you flowers. red. roses.
so awfully cliche that you couldn't even blame your past self for the disgust on your face in the aforementioned leaked picture.
women raged when a video of him begging you while chasing after you on the sidewalk surfaced in the stories of satoru's frat bro's.
the man who was known for being as careless with his words as people are with their phones after a year, was suddenly mindful of his vocabulary.
when before, smirks and winks were handed out to the girls so easily—now they were reserved just for you it seemed.
and the crazy part of it all? you made him run. you made him grovel. you made him fix his failing grades. made him fix his fillipiant attitude.
and made him take 2 hiv tests.
made him give a damn.
but you couldn't change his cliché-ness. he was a sappy romantic. he snuck candy in your stationery, climbed up your window ledge and left flowers in your hair when you weren't paying attention to him.
he even started gifting you books which you had talked about in that first meeting. at the frat party. and that was when you caved in. not enough to let him in your bed. but enough to go out with him.
the frat boys tripped over themselves when they caught satoru in a white formal shirt and black slacks. a red rose in his pocket. the picture of a lover boy. the change was not sudden, he had been chasing after you for months . but it was shocking nonetheless.
and satoru. oh. satoru was in love. the goodness tasted way better on his tongue than cigar smoke. your perfume on his clothes smelled better than nightly sex.
and your hand in his made his heart race faster than any orgasm he had ever had.
he never imagined himself to be tamed by a woman. yet here he was. and he had no regrets.
not when people all around him gaped at your fingers scratching the hair at his nape.
not when his boys hollered at the tattoo of your name over his heart.
and certainly not when you finally let him in your bed.
he still had a long way to go though. to prove that he was there to stay. to prove that he was exclusive to you.
so as he lay stroking your back as you slept on his chest, he planned the perfect little outing to take you on the next day. (and ways to woo you so that you would invite him to your bed again)
Fratjo breaks up with you and instantly regrets it
The first time Satoru Gojo realizes he made a mistake is when he can’t find you on campus.
At first he thinks it’s funny.
You’ve always been easy to find. The west library corner seat by the window. The campus café at 10:30 with a vanilla latte and that same notebook you pretend isn’t a diary.
But after the breakup?
You vanish.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
Your Instagram, phone number, Snapchat — blocked.
He stares at his phone in the Alpha Tau living room while music blasts around him and someone hands him another drink.
Blocked.
“Damn,” one of the guys laughs. “She actually did it.”
Gojo scoffs like it doesn’t matter. “I’ll get her back,” he says cockily.
Like he’s not the one who said it. I need to focus on football.
The lie sounded convincing at the time. The scouts were watching. His coach kept yelling about discipline. Everyone said relationships were a distraction.
So he broke up with you.
Clean and quick.
Two weeks later, he’s drunk at three different frat parties, shamefully sneaking out of sorority house hookups before the sun even rises.
And somehow that’s when he realizes something feels wrong.
———-
The First Attempt
He tries texting.
It doesn’t go through. Still blocked.
He laughs to himself. “Dramatic much.”
But that night he still walks across campus toward the all-girl dorms.
Except the front desk girl just shrugs. “She’s not here.”
Gojo frowns, “What do you mean she’s not here?”
“Means she’s not here.”
He stands outside the dorm building for ten minutes before leaving.
The next day he tries again. Still no sight of you.
Flowers
A week later a bouquet arrives at your dorm. White lilies and baby’s breath.
Attached card: —SG <3
He doesn’t even know if you like lilies. You used to talk about flowers sometimes, but he never listened carefully enough to remember, and now he regrets it.
The desk girl tells him later you picked them up without saying a word.
Still no message back.
The Letters
Then the letters start. The handwritten notes made him feel romantic, he was sure this would get a response out of you.
The first one is simple.
I know you blocked me. I deserve it.
Let me know if you wanna talk
-Satoru <3
No response.
The second one is longer.
I didn’t break up with you because I stopped loving you. I thought I was doing the responsible thing.
Please unblock me xoxo
The third one is messy.
He writes it at 2 AM after a party he left early because some girl laughed too loud in a way that sounded a little too much like you.
I keep looking for you around campus.
You used to sit by the west library window. I checked yesterday. You weren’t there. Are you avoiding me?
- Toru
Your Favorite Snacks
The dorm desk starts receiving packages. Your favorite chocolate. Spicy chips.
Strawberry gummies you always bought from the vending machine during late-night study sessions.
Deliveries of your favourite bubble tea.
The desk girl starts recognizing his name. “Another one from the football guy. I told him you weren’t here again like you asked.”
Meanwhile
Gojo’s reputation doesn’t change. He’s still the star player. Still the loud one at parties. Still the guy everyone thinks has everything.
But lately he keeps checking doorways. Scanning crowds at football games. Looking for someone who isn’t there.
The First Time He Sees You Again
It’s raining. He’s leaving practice when he spots you across the quad under a blue umbrella.
For a second he thinks he imagined it.
But then you look up. And your eyes meet his.
The look on your face isn’t anger. It’s worse.
It’s indifference.
You turn and keep walking. Gojo’s heart drops straight into his stomach. He can’t let you escape after all this time of chasing you.
“Hey—!”
You stop slowly. You look over your shoulder. “…What?” Your voice is calm.
Gojo suddenly forgets every speech he rehearsed. “I—did you get the letters?”
“Yes.”
“…And?…will you please talk to me?”
You stare at him for a long moment “Goodnight, Gojo.”
Then you turn and walk away, leaving him standing alone in the rain, watching you disappear.
Expanding on this thought (with a twist!) and a huge thank you to @yandere-romanticaa for sparking this idea! This isn't the Phai-sandwich fic I keep on talking about. Just another one of my random ideas. ‘Transformed Phainon’ is called ‘Khaos’ here. Slightly Suggestive. 2.4k word vomit.
Let's picture this : you're a freshman in university, armed with big dreams and a lot of anxiety typical of students who've stepped foot onto the big leagues from overseas.
For the first two months, you hang onto your naivete that you can do this by yourself with a death grip — which is shattered quite easily as time rolls on and the reality of having no source of personal income, no connection and an abundant supply of academic competition that threatens even your scholarship crashes down on you.
There is one ray of light in your dreary existence though, your friend and comrade in procrastination Phainon. He's, as you'd say, straight out of a movie ; good looks, sweet personality, seems to excel at everything while remaining humble despite it all. Had it not been for the incident where you'd both gotten lost trying to find the Orientation building on your first day and bonded over while going in circles around the labyrinth that was the Grove of Epiphany, you highly doubt you'd even be able to be friends with him.
“In deadlines and in surprise quizzes.” he raises a rolled sheet of paper, a look of grave seriousness on his face.
“Through every 8 am lecture and panic attack.” you reciprocate his expression, raising a pen in solidarity.
“Til death do us part.” you say in unison, bumping the objects like they were wine glasses instead — bursting into laughter the very next second.
He even does more part-time jobs than the amount of integrals you can solve within an hour — not because he needs the money, but because he is ‘trying to find out what work he should pursue’ (some people, really). You, unfortunately, have neither his charisma nor his stamina to snag and maintain any job you desire. Nor is your background strong enough to satiate your pecuniary frustrations.
Which leads you to the third, cursed option.
Now, this was the path that you, in your conscious mind, had never ever wanted to resort to— but desperation, and a significant portion of your spirits being crushed, pushed you to give in to the temptation of a more lax alternative for financial support.
And well, the company that operates the system seemed to have pretty solid terms of protection and though you didn't quite like the look the woman who was officiating your contract gave you ; you could only suck it up and pray that you'd be picked by some, you don't know, wealthy lady with blond hair and a soft heart instead of a creepy grandpa-aged man.
You did end up getting picked by a blonde, ironically, but the man in question was more confusing than anything.
You'd half-expected for your client to be some middle-aged man who'd drone on about how much his wife annoys him while throwing money at the dozen girls hanging off his arms, but Khaos is anything but.
Respectful, courteous, well-spoken and many other positive adjectives you couldn't help but describe him with. He didn't demand any sexual favors from you, didn't even push slightly when you refused any drinks from him. Rather, he took you on nice dinners, agreed to financially support you and requested you to at least, engage in conversation with him whenever he'd initiate one.
Which was even more suspicious, in your book at least.
You'd been bracing yourself for the inevitable moment when he'd reveal his true colors to you, but it never really came. And after picking up bits and pieces of hints from your interactions, you'd realized that the guy was just... really lonely.
“My family... is a bit estranged.” he'd admitted quietly one evening, when you'd finally managed to get the courage to ask him. Turns out scarcity will find its way to even the wealthiest of man, one way or the other.
Propelled by sympathy, you decided to be a bit less rigid and a lot more kinder to Khaos from then on. He, in turn, could find it in himself to be genuinely softer towards you, rather than it being out of politeness. Though his empathy for your situation was nevertheless evident, he knew what it felt like to push against this socio-economic structure with nothing to one's name, for the sake of family, moreover.
And soon, the tense ‘dates’ melted into something far warmer. Quiet touches were soon invited, sincere affection blending into compliments and gifts — it was nearly impossible to guess the dubious nature of your relationship.
Khaos even did your assignments for you, not once, not twice, but thrice when your time together had skipped off too far into the night and you sprang up from the sheets upon remembering you'd completely forgotten (you passed the classes).
One evening, when you were finally able to make it to him, slightly roughed up from the grueling day, an issue was addressed.
“You're late by an hour, moonbeam.” he said lightly, head tilted as he observed your enervated appearance from his seated position. His usually neat golden hair was unusually tousled, as if he had been running his hands through it all day.
“Traffic,” you grumbled, heels clicking against the floor as you maneuvered around his desk to stand right before him.
“And it's a pretty long way from the Grove to here.” you braced a hand against his chest when he guided you to sit on his thigh, his other arm wrapped around your waist, neither of you questioned how easily you'd settled against each other.
At this proximity, you were privy to the details you'd initially missed ; the way the sleeves of his white button down were rolled up to his elbows, how his top two buttons were open and the way the lights glinted off the skin of his collarbones. There was a shadow of tiredness there too, bleeding into those usual sharp navy blue pupils. Dishevelled, but attractive. Far too attractive than he had the right to look.
His hum pulled you out before you could spiral further, his fingers kissed your cheek as they raised to tuck a stray strand of hair away from your eyes. Your chest was pressed against his vest, without even a breath of leeway.
“I could buy you an apartment that's closer to here.” he offered, but there was a glint in his eyes that gave you the suspicion that he wasn't going to listen to a rejection.
Still, you tried, “No, no— that'd be too much!”
“Really?” he adjusted his hold on you, guiding your legs to drape over his lap instead. “From my perspective, it sounds more like ‘sufficient’.” the warmth from his hand seeped into the skin of your thigh.
The apartment in question was at a nice side of the city, not absurdly lavish, but set with all the utilities one would require. And in lieu of having your personal space now, you could finally take the kitty you've had to leave in Castorice's care for months! The best part, undoubtedly.
It wasn't a negotiation you were going to win anyway, and the prospect of having an apartment all too yourself rather than having to share it with someone else, was far too appealing to push against. You did still shoot him a ‘I'll pay you back!’ out of pride, which Khaos just smiled towards.
“I am so sorry! I swear, Mr Whiskers is usually more well-behaved than this!” you panicked, trying to get the cat away from the carnage he'd caused right in front of the front door. Just when you were starting to recover from the guilt of spending Khaos' money, seriously.
Until one day, your cat crashes straight onto and breaks your new neighbor's precious antique vase.
But then, you froze mid-reach, head craning a full 60° to make eye-contact with your new neighbor.
The man tilted his head from behind the stack of five full boxes he was carrying ; silver hair, grey eyes icy enough to send a chill through the air.
Khaslana, as you came to know later, was a student doing his Master's and had moved here from his previous place for the sake of his job. And a far kinder individual than what his appearance suggested, since he hadn't demanded any reimbursement for that antique and even gave treats to your cat.
You squinted. Strange, why did he look oddly familiar?
You'd expected your interactions to end there. But by some twist of fate, your cat had taken a massive liking to him, to the point where he had even tried to jump over your balcony to Khaslana's just to be with the man. And because of your cat, the count of your interactions kept on going up, up and up.
Fifteen minutes meet-ups would spiral into hours, what was supposed to be just playing with Mr. Whiskers would turn into you two chatting about yourselves. Khaslana wasn't really much of a talker, but he never left you hanging for a response or pretend to listen. Soon, the interactions broke the boundary of it just being for Mr. Whiskers ; borrowing salt or sugar, exchanging something you'd cooked, he even fixed your broken faucet one time!
There was also a slag to his shoulders that never seemed to go away, as though he'd experienced something far too heavy to name. You never had the courage to ask him though, since you had a feeling that he wouldn't just tell you that easily. But you remained kind to him nevertheless.
(Something slipped through your notice though, you'd never told him about the fact that you faucet had broken, nor requested help from him.)
When winter came and the holidays rolled around, you were unfortunately not able to go visit your family due to some technical issues. As such, fearing that you might get sad, your dear friend Phainon had decided to invite you over to a dinner with his family. You accepted, since you hadn't gotten many chances to hang out with him as of late — completely unaware of what this meant in Amphoreun culture.
“It's not often we get to come together. But we managed to actually follow through with the plans this time! Don't worry, my brothers are really nice, even if they do look a bit aloof.” Phainon explained, swinging your joined hands lightly as he walked.
“Brothers?” you looked at him incredulously, wondering why after two whole years of knowing each other, he was mentioning the fact that he has brothers just now.
“Yup! Both older than me— but that's kinda obvious, I guess?” he chuckled, his breath casting a small fog in front of his face.
“And you're only telling me now because...?”
Phainon's expression locked up almost comically at that, “I didn't tell you?!” he turned towards you, grasping your hand.
“No...?”
Your friend face-palmed, “My memory failed me again.”
You huffed, not at all surprised by that at this point, “This is why I keep on telling you to get tested for dementia, Phai.”
Phainon gasped like a scandalized noblewoman, fixing you with a mock-indignant look, “I do not have dementia! It's just that—”
Confusion took over your face when he abruptly stopped, head snapping up towards something, “It's just what...?”
Phainon turned back to you, slower this time, lips curved up in a giddy smile. “We're here, partner.”
You're certain you hadn't blinked once from the towering gates of Phainon's home all the way to the inside of the house. You had a hunch that Phainon came from a well-off family, but you never thought it would be at this scale.
Sensing your bewilderment, “Impressed? It wasn't always like this. We owe it all to our big brother.” Phainon said lightly, a dent on his usual enthusiasm.
You gripped the strap of your bag, ignoring the insistent buzz from your phone from within. “Cool.” you admitted as you passed the front door.
You had to blink several times to adjust to the sheer glimmer of the interior, failing to notice the ball of fluff barrelling towards you two in the endeavor.
“Oof— easy boy!” an unrestrained laugh tumbled out of Phainon's lips as the Samoyed charged at him, greeting him in that enthusiastic way only dogs can do.
Ruffling the Samoyed's fluffy coat once, “This is Snowy! The reason why our house is never fur-free!” Phainon introduced, ignoring the indignant yip he got from the dog.
Your mouth formed an ‘O’, “So cute.” you glanced towards Phainon for permission and when he nodded, you patted Snowy. Mr. Whiskers would definitely hiss at you later for this, but for now, you were going to enjoy the feeling of Snowy's soft fur.
“Looks just like you, too.”
Snowy, unexpectedly, pushed himself even closer towards your hand as Phainon giggled, not bothering to deny the resemblance. His cyan eyes twinkled upon noticing how eagerly the dog was leaning towards you, “He's excellent taste.”
“Huh?” you looked up towards him at his absentminded remark, Phainon simply smiled wider.
“Come on, let's go meet the human residents.” he tugged you up by your arm, slipping your fingers between his again.
He led you towards the living room, scanning the empty area, “Strange, where did everyone go...?”
You picked up on the sillage of something cooking, “Maybe, the kitchen...?”
“Oh right! Yes, Khaslana did say he was going to handle the dishes this time.”
Your mind buffered.
“Kha.. Khaslana?”
Phainon glanced back at you, “Hm?” his fingers involuntarily squeezed yours, “Oh! He's the middle brother. He has a degree in being grumpy and strict tastes when it comes to Holiday dinners!”
He chuckled again, eyes scanning over the space once more. “Weird. Khaos was here when I left the house. Did he go to fetch the person he said he wanted us to meet?”
You didn't think it was possible, but you felt your heart drop as soon as that name left Phainon's mouth.
This can't be happening, your breath stuttered, maybe it's another Khaos?? Surely, surely not him? You still had some luck left, right?
You flinch when you feel it again, the buzz of your phone from your bag that you'd ignored all day. Not liking the conclusion your mind arrived at from that, at all.
“Ah, there he is...” Phainon muttered, you felt the primordial urge to sprint out of the scene and you would've, had it not been for the way his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly.
The click of shoes was far too loud, mocking the pounding of your own heart.
“Oh, you're back—...” all your prayers crumbled as soon as that familiar voice reached your ears. Phainon glanced at you in concern, upon feeling how clammy your hand had gotten.
Just then, another pair of footsteps joined the scene, Khaslana entered while wiping his hands on a towel, promptly freezing in his steps when he took in the sight before him.
You squeezed your eyes shut, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole.
Caleb walks in to the sight of you huffing and puffing. Shaking your limbs and head as you tug a hairtie out of your thick hair.
"Hey hey, whats got you in such a fuss, pipsqueak?"
"My hairs so-- ugh--" hands ruffle your hair, before collapsing back.
"So?"
"Annoying. its too frizzy. Too stupidly thick. I saw a cute ponytail hack online and i wanted to do it but i cant seperate my hair without strands tugging and- and my arms get so tired and-"
"Show me the video."
"No, its stupid anyways--" Yet yourpouty huff as you collapse back doesn't deter Caleb. He grabs your phone, and watches the video a few times, before he leaves. You dont ask where hes going-- dont need to, when hes back in a couple minutes with a spray bottle.
A warm palm pulls you back upright, one of Calebs knees settling on either side of you as he sits behind you. Spritzes your hair until its wet, before he sets on styling it. half up half down, twisting it to make a gap, putting the lower half into a ponytail, putting it back together...
His arm wraps around your shoulders. Pulls you against him as he takes a selfie. "...Here. You can be the judge of how close you think i got, pips."
"mh... Its still not fair. I wont be able to get it this cute."
"Well... lucky for you your Caleb isn't goin' anywhere. I'll always do your hair for you, if you let me."
"Gen Z grew up on le disney movies about fighting for le justice so, heh, yeah, we're pretty heckin righteous" 😼
you should be able to shoot a cop in the head and feel no sympathy or you're gonna get shot in the head by someone who feels no sympathy. you should have already killed a thousand cops in your mind by now, or when you have to, you'll fumble and die. like. die for real. no respawn. no humbling speech. you will die. you are going to die if you can't stand the thought of killing a murderer. batman was wrong. you should kill people who will kill people.
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