Hiii! Love your work and was wondering if I could get a LADS men w/ a girlfriend who’s going through family issues or just a comfort fic in general. There’s been so many fights I just need a comfort fic 😭
lads men comforting their girlfriend going through family issues
warnings: mentions of family fights & toxic family dynamics, self-doubt/low self-esteem, running away from home
a/n: hi lovely thank you so much for supporting my work and i am so sorry you may be dealing with issues and fighting. i understand how terrible that can be so please remember to take care of yourself. and to anyone who may be struggling i hope things get better and you can find some peace.
xavier
☆ doesn't push you to talk. simply starts spending more time beside you—quiet company. shared blankets. holding hands.
☆ when you finally tell him what's happening, his expression softens with unmistakable sadness.
☆ family is something he's never truly had in the ordinary sense, but he understands longing better than most.
☆ gives gentle reassurance instead of advice.
☆ if you blame yourself, he immediately corrects you.
☆ loves wrapping you in oversized hoodies and pulling you into lazy naps after difficult phone calls.
☆ on especially bad days, he'll quietly ask, "can we pretend the world doesn't exist today?" then spends the rest of the evening reading beside you or tracing lazy circles on your hand until your breathing finally evens out.
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word count: 849
the apartment was quiet when you came home. your keys barely made it into the bowl by the door before your bag slipped from your shoulder with a dull thud. the phone call replayed in your head, every word sharper now that there was nothing to drown it out.
"you're so sensitive."
"we're only trying to help."
"after everything we've done for you..."
you'd hung up before they could hear you cry.
"you're home."
xavier's voice was gentle, almost sleepy as he stepped into the entryway. his hair was still tousled from his nap, and he smiled when he saw you—until he really looked. the smile disappeared. without asking, he crossed the room.
"what happened?"
you tried to answer. instead, a sob escaped. everything you'd held together during the drive home unraveled in seconds.
"i'm so tired," you whispered. "i don't know why i keep thinking maybe this time they'll understand."
xavier said nothing at first. he simply wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest while your tears soaked into his shirt.
his hand moved slowly through your hair. "i've got you," he murmured.
the words weren't meant to fix anything. they were simply true. by the time your crying eased into exhausted sniffles, your eyes burned. xavier brushed a thumb beneath one of them.
"come with me."
too drained to argue, you let him lead you into the bedroom. he pulled the blankets back, helped you settle beneath them, then tucked them around your shoulders with surprising care.
"you should sleep."
"i don't think i can."
"you can." his fingers found yours. "i'll be here when you wake up."
the steady warmth of his hand, the quiet rhythm of his breathing beside you...somehow it was enough to make your eyes closed. when you woke, sunlight had softened into gold. for one blissful second, you forgot. you shuffled into the living room to find grocery bags scattered across the kitchen counter. your favorite chips. your favorite chocolate. the strawberry gummies you always claimed you didn't need. even the expensive tea you only bought on special occasions.
xavier looked up from arranging everything, "oh." his face brightened, "you're awake."
"did you buy all of this?"
"you've had a difficult day."
as though that explained everything. maybe...it did.
"you remembered."
"i remember everything you like."
heat bloomed behind your eyes again, but for an entirely different reason.
"you didn't have to."
"i wanted to."
later, the two of you sat on the couch beneath the same blanket, snacks spread across the coffee table. the television played some movie neither of you was paying attention to.
you leaned your head against his shoulder, "they're still my parents. i keep wishing things were different."
his answers were never rushed. never dismissive. just patient.
after a long silence, xavier spoke, "can i tell you something?"
you nodded giving him your undivided attention.
"my family wasn't like yours."
his fingers traced absent-minded circles over the back of your hand.
"but they still wanted me to become someone i wasn't."
he let out a quiet breath.
"there was always a path laid out for me. expectations. responsibilities. people deciding what my life should look like before i ever had the chance to. they weren't cruel in the same way," he continued softly. "but... it still felt like i belonged more to their idea of me than to myself."
the confession hung between you.
"so..." you whispered, "you understand."
"i understand what it's like to love people and still feel hurt by them."
his gaze drifted toward the window, where the last streaks of sunset painted the glass.
"i also learned something because of it."
he turned back to you, a small smile touching his lips.
"family isn't only the people you're born to."
his hand squeezed yours. "it's the people who let you exist exactly as you are."
the words settled deep in your chest.
"i chose my own family." his smile grew warmer. "the people i trust. the people i'd cross galaxies for."
then, after the briefest pause, he added quietly, "and you were never a difficult choice."
your breath caught as fresh tears welled in your eyes.
"you've been my home for a long time."
"but what if i never stop wishing my parents were different?"
"you probably won't."
his thumb brushed away a tear before it could fall.
"and that's okay. you can grieve the family you hoped for while still embracing the one you've found."
he shifted closer until your foreheads rested together.
"you don't have to stop loving them. but you also don't have to let their expectations decide your worth."
your shoulders finally relaxed. for the first time all day, the tightness in your chest eased.
"i don't know what i did to deserve you," you admitted.
xavier smiled—that soft, unassuming smile that always made you feel seen.
"you don't have to deserve me."
he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"you already belong with me."
maybe home had never been a place at all. maybe it had always been a person.
zayne
☆ notices stress physically before you mention it—lack of sleep, elevated heart rate, headaches, you're barely eating. finally asks, "has something happened at home?"
☆ when you explain everything, he listens with complete attention. doesn't interrupt or immediately offer solutions. validates your feelings first.
☆ helps separate what you can control from what you can't.
☆ encourages healthy boundaries because chronic stress has real health consequences.
☆ if your family constantly calls, he'll gently suggest silencing notifications for a while.
☆ comfort from zayne often comes through care rather than dramatic words—he makes tea. reminds you to hydrate. ensures you're sleeping enough.
before bed he'll quietly kiss your forehead. "you don't have to solve everything tonight."
☆ his parent's call zayne often to ask about you as they think of you as their daughter
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word count: 780
zayne had noticed long before you admitted anything was wrong. you insisted you were just tired. work had been busy. you'd skipped breakfast because you overslept. the headaches were "nothing."
but he'd watched the pattern build over weeks. dark circles beneath your eyes. shoulders that never seemed to relax. meals left half-finished. a resting heart rate that stayed higher than normal whenever your phone lit up with your family's names.
tonight was no different. you stared blankly at your dinner until you finally whispered, "i'm not hungry." you hadn't eaten much all day. zayne quietly took your plate before setting a mug of warm tea in front of you instead.
"you don't have to force yourself."
you smiled weakly. that somehow made his chest ache even more.
the next afternoon, during a break at the hospital, zayne found himself doing something he hadn't expected. he called his parents. his mother answered almost immediately.
"zayne?"
"hi, mom."
she sounded pleasantly surprised, "you don't usually call this early. is everything alright?"
he hesitated, "it's...about her."
there was no need to explain who. his parents adored you. his mother had insisted you stop calling her "mrs. li" months ago. his father never let you leave their house without sending leftovers home. they'd quietly accepted you into their family long before you realized it.
zayne explained everything. the arguments. the constant criticism. how every phone call seemed to leave you smaller than before.
"she's exhausted," he admitted.
"i can treat the symptoms."
he looked down at the patient chart in his hand.
"i don't know how to treat the cause."
silence lingered for a moment, then his father spoke.
"you love her."
"of course."
"then keep reminding her she deserves to be loved."
his mother's voice softened, "when someone grows up believing affection has conditions, they forget that healthy love isn't something they have to earn."
zayne closed his eyes briefly. "...i don't always know what to say."
"you don't have to say everything perfectly," she replied. "just don't let her face it alone. and tell her she's welcome here whenever she wants."
his father chuckled from somewhere nearby.
"tell her we've already decided she's family anyway."
for the first time all day, zayne smiled. "i will."
when he returned home that evening, you were asleep on the couch. your laptop sat open beside you. a half-finished email. tissues scattered across the coffee table. he sighed quietly. another difficult phone call. carefully, he draped a blanket over your shoulders. the movement stirred you awake.
"...you're home."
"i am."
your voice cracked, "i'm sorry."
"what are you apologizing for?"
"being like this."
he sat beside you. "you've apologized for crying three times this week."
your eyes dropped, "i know."
"you've never needed to."
his hand gently found yours. "i spoke to my parents today."
your head lifted, "you...did?"
"they were worried about you."
a flicker of confusion crossed your face. "worried?"
"my mother asked whether you've been sleeping."
a tiny laugh escaped you.
"my father wanted to know if you're eating enough."
"really?"
"they also wanted me to tell you something." he squeezed your hand. "they said you always have a place at their table."
your lips parted, "they...said that?"
"they've considered you family for quite some time."
the composure you'd been desperately holding together dissolved. fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.
"i don't understand why they're kinder to me than my own parents."
zayne reached up, brushing them away with practiced gentleness.
"because kindness isn't determined by blood."
his voice remained calm. steady.
"the people who love you should never make you question whether you're worthy of that love."
you leaned into him, finally allowing yourself to rest. he held you without another word, one hand rubbing slow circles across your back. after a while, he spoke again.
"you've spent so much energy trying to earn acceptance from people who should have given it freely."
his forehead rested lightly against yours, "you don't have to earn it here."
the words settled over you like a warm blanket. for the first time in weeks, your breathing slowed. zayne pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before standing.
"i'm going to heat up dinner."
"i'm still not very hungry."
"i know."
a small smile tugged at his lips, "so we'll start with soup."
"and if i don't finish it?"
"i'll be proud of every spoonful."
you laughed quietly through your tears.
"that's the first real smile i've seen all week."
he reached for your hand once more. "i'd like to see more of them."
and with him along with the family who had already opened their hearts to you it finally felt possible.
rafayel
☆ at first he notices because you start pulling away due to stress and anxiety which immediately concerns him.
☆ he knows what loneliness feels like, even if it's different from yours.
☆ doesn't pretend to fully understand family dynamics he never experienced. instead he says, "i don't know exactly what that's like... but i know what it feels like to want somewhere to belong."
☆ lets you cry while absentmindedly playing with your hair and rubbing your back.
☆ distracts you whenever everything becomes overwhelming—midnight drives. painting together. ocean walks. watching terrible movies until you're smiling again.
☆ if you apologize for "being too much," he looks genuinely offended.
"you're not a burden. you're just hurting."
☆ once it is the right time he loves to talk about the possibilities of having your own family with him someday and how even though difficult things like this happen they shouldn't stop you from wanting to have your own life and future.
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word count: 778
rafayel noticed the distance before you ever said a word. he noticed everything. the way your replies became shorter. the way you stopped sending him random pictures throughout the day. the way you laughed less at his dramatic complaints and playful teasing. at first, he tried to pretend he wasn't bothered. maybe you just needed space. but then you canceled plans for the third time that week. and rafayel stared at your message for a long moment before typing back.
"you're avoiding me."
the three dots appeared almost immediately. then disappeared. then appeared again.
"i'm not."
"you are. and before you tell me i'm imagining things, remember who you're talking to. i can tell when someone looks at my paintings for too long and doesn't like them. i can definitely tell when my girlfriend is sad."
that finally got you to admit it. not over text, but when he showed up at your door with your favorite drink and that worried look he tried so hard to hide. the moment you saw him, your expression crumpled and rafayel's heart broke.
"i don't know what's wrong with me."
those were the first words out of your mouth. rafayel immediately frowned.
"excuse me?"
you looked down, "my family just...they make me feel like i'm never enough."
the anger that flashed across his face wasn't directed at you. it was the kind that came from caring too much.
"what did they say?"
everything came spilling out after that. the comparisons. the criticism. the way every achievement somehow became proof you could have done more. how you started wondering if maybe they were right. maybe you weren't special. maybe you weren't worth being proud of.
by the time you finished, your voice was barely a whisper.
"and i guess i started thinking...maybe if they see me that way, everyone else will too."
rafayel went quiet then he reached for your hand.
"look at me. do you really think i'd spend all my time with someone who isn't enough?"
your eyes watered, "rafayel—"
"no." he squeezed your hand gently. "i'm serious."
"you think i don't notice how kind you are? how much you care? how you always remember the little things about people?"
his thumb brushed over your knuckles.
"your family might have made you feel like you have to prove your worth. but you never had to prove anything to me."
after a moment, rafayel leaned back against the couch. his voice became quieter.
"i don't really have the kind of family you talk about. i don't have years of memories with parents who know everything about me. i don't have a childhood home full of old photographs and embarrassing stories."
those were lost to the seas. lost to lemuria. but there was no bitterness in his voice. just honesty.
"but i know what it feels like to want somewhere to belong."
his gaze met yours. "to want someone who chooses you. and maybe that's why i understand a little."
he smiled faintly. "everyone wants a place where they don't have to pretend. you have that with me. you know that, right?"
your throat tightened. rafayel was quiet for a moment before he continued.
"sometimes i imagine what my future looks like."
"your future?"
"yes."
he looked almost embarrassed admitting it, which was rare for someone as shameless as him.
"i imagine a lot of things. a home. you cooking something and insisting it's good even though you definitely burned it."
"rafayel."
"what? i'm being realistic."
you laughed softly. the first real laugh he'd heard from you in days.
his fingers brushed your cheek. "i imagine waking up beside you. i imagine annoying you until you tell me to stop. i imagine us building something that's ours."
your expression softened as you thought about it too. "a family?"
"yeah." his answer came easily. "maybe."
his eyes warmed. "one we choose. one where nobody has to wonder if they're loved."
your breath caught as he moved closer.
"and i need you to understand something. don't let the way they see you decide what kind of life you're allowed to dream about."
your eyes filled with tears again.
"you deserve a beautiful life. you deserve people who celebrate you. you deserve a home where you're not constantly trying to earn your place."
he smiled as he kissed your cheek lightly. "and i want to be part of that."
that night, you didn't magically forget everything your family had said. healing didn't work like that. but when the doubts came back, you remembered rafayel's words.
you deserve a beautiful life.
and for the first time in a while, you let yourself imagine it.
sylus
☆ doesn't sugarcoat things. the second he realizes your family manipulates you through guilt, he recognizes the pattern immediately.
"they're counting on you believing you deserve this."
☆ never speaks badly about your family just because he's angry. instead, he teaches you how to recognize manipulation.
☆ helps you make actual plans for your future—budget, apartment hunting, emergency contacts, important documents.
☆ very much a "hope for the best, prepare for the worst" person.
☆ if your family shows up unexpectedly, he's already standing between you and them before you even think to ask.
☆ despite his bluntness, he's incredibly gentle afterward. runs his thumb over your knuckles while saying, "you're allowed to choose peace."
☆ doesn't expect you to stop loving your family. just wants you to stop sacrificing yourself for people who won't do the same.
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word count: 989
you had always promised yourself you wouldn't run away. no matter how bad things got. no matter how many arguments ended with slammed doors, cruel words disguised as "concern," or nights spent wondering why it was so difficult for your parents to simply...like you.
you endured it because that's what they expected. because every time you tried to leave, the guilt pulled you back.
"we're your family."
"you're really abandoning us?"
"after everything we've sacrificed?"
so you stayed. until one night...you couldn't.
sylus opened the door before you had the chance to knock a second time. his eyes found yours first. red-rimmed and exhausted. then they dropped to the suitcase at your feet. the cardboard box tucked awkwardly beneath your arm overflowing with mismatched belongings you'd grabbed in a hurry.
"can i stay here?" your voice was barely audible. "just for a little while."
sylus didn't ask what happened. didn't ask how long. didn't ask whether this was a good idea.
he simply stepped aside. "come inside."
the words were immediate like there had never been another answer.
you didn't speak until nearly an hour later. by then, he'd made tea, found you one of his hoodies and ordered dinner because he'd noticed your hands shaking too much to eat anything you'd have to cook.
you sat on the couch with the mug cradled between your palms, "it was my parents."
sylus nodded once, "i figured."
"they found out i was looking at apartments."
you laughed bitterly. "they said i was selfish. ungrateful. they said if i left, i'd regret it."
"and then..." your voice cracked. "my mom told me nobody else would ever put up with me."
sylus's jaw tightened as he listened to you.
"so i packed a bag." you looked at him nervously. "i know i probably should've figured this out on my own."
"you don't have to figure it out alone."
his answer came so quickly it stole the apology that was weighing on your chest.
"you came here." he met your gaze. "that was the right decision."
the next morning, sylus was already awake when you wandered into the kitchen. a notebook sat open on the table. several pages filled with neat handwriting.
you stared. "what's all this?"
"our plan."
he slid the notebook toward you. "apartment listings. a budget. a checklist of documents you'll need."
he tapped another page. "if they have access to your bank account, we fix that first. the rest follows."
you looked at him in disbelief. "you...did all this?"
"you needed a place to start." his expression remained calm. "so i gave you one."
for the first time since leaving home, the future didn't feel like an impossible cliff. it looked...manageable.
the phone rang that afternoon. you didn't even have to look you knew. mom. your stomach dropped.
sylus glanced up from where he was reading.
"you don't have to answer."
"...i should."
he nodded once, "then put it on speaker."
you hesitated before pressing accept. your mother's voice was sweet.
"there you are! we were worried sick."
sylus raised an eyebrow and you almost laughed.
"i'm okay."
"oh, sweetheart, don't do this. we know you're emotional. just come home and we'll forget this ever happened."
you looked down at your hands. for a second...it almost worked. then came the next sentence.
"you know you can't survive on your own."
sylus quietly reached across the couch and took your hand. grounding you. keeping you there.
you swallowed. "i don't think i'm coming back."
there was dreadful silence. then — "so that's it? you're choosing strangers over your own family?"
the sweetness had vanished. there it was. the voice you knew. the one that always came after you said no.
"you've always been so dramatic. you'll come crawling back once reality hits."
tears stung your eyes. before you could answer—sylus held out his hand.
"the phone."
you looked at him closely. he didn't look angry. he looked... finished. slowly, you handed it over and he lifted it to his ear.
"this is sylus."
his voice remained perfectly even.
"she isn't coming back tonight. you don't get to spend years convincing someone they're impossible to love..."
his gaze flickered toward you. "then act surprised when they finally believe you."
whoever was speaking on the other end raised their voice. but sylus didn't.
"if you actually want a relationship with her someday, you can start by respecting the boundaries she's setting."
there was another interruption but he cut them off cleanly.
"you're not entitled to her simply because you're related."
his expression hardened. "and if your only response is guilt and insults...then don't call again until you're capable of speaking to her with kindness."
he ended the call before they could respond. the apartment fell silent once more, thick with tension. your hands were shaking.
"i've never heard anyone talk to them like that. they're used to people letting them control the conversation."
sylus set the phone on the coffee table. "i'm not one of those people."
you buried your face in your hands. "what if they're right? what if i really am selfish?"
sylus carefully moved closer and pulled your hands away from your face.
"look at me. you left because they were hurting you."
he spoke slowly, making sure every word landed.
"removing yourself from a situation that causes you harm isn't selfish. it's survival."
fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. at the sight his expression softened just enough. then he reached for your suitcase, setting it beside the hallway instead of near the front door. A small gesture. But one that said everything.
"you're with me now." his hand found yours. "and as far as i'm concerned..." he gave your fingers a reassuring squeeze. "you're not going back."
for the first time since you'd walked out of your parents' house, the thought of tomorrow didn't fill you with fear. it felt like freedom.
caleb
☆ notices something is wrong long before you admit it. you're quieter on calls, your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes. doesn't pry. instead, he'll casually ask, "want me to come over?"
☆ when you finally break down and explain the situation, he listens without interrupting.
☆ caleb comes from a family-oriented mindset, so it genuinely hurts him to hear that the people who should make you feel safe are the ones causing you pain.
"family isn't supposed to make you earn love."
☆ gives practical advice without forcing it—set boundaries. don't let guilt make your decisions.
☆ constantly reminds you that loving someone doesn't mean accepting how they treat you.
☆ if your family starts insulting you over the phone while he's nearby, he'll quietly take your hand to keep you grounded rather than escalating things.
☆ starts inviting you to family dinners or holidays—not to replace your family, but so you don't have to spend every important day feeling alone. secretly hopes one day you'll think of his family as yours too.
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word count: 887
birthdays had never really been your favorite. you'd wonder if this year would be different. maybe your parents would remember without being reminded. maybe they'd ask what kind of cake you wanted. maybe they'd spend the day with you instead of arguing or forgetting altogether.
you checked your phone more times than you wanted to admit. you tried to convince yourself you didn't care. you almost succeeded. caleb knew something was wrong the second you answered his video call.
"birthday girl!"
his grin was bright enough to make you smile automatically. but that lasted all of two seconds.
his smile faded. "what happened?"
"nothing."
"you've got your 'nothing's wrong' voice."
you sighed, "they just... forgot."
he frowned he knew who you were talking about.
you laughed quietly, though it sounded closer to heartbreak.
"i guess today's just another day."
caleb's expression changed in an instant. not to pity. to resolve.
"i'm coming to get you."
"caleb, you don't have to—"
"i know." he smiled again, softer this time. "i want to."
twenty minutes later, you were in his passenger seat. the drive was familiar. when he turned onto a quiet street lined with old maple trees, realization slowly dawned on you.
"we're going to josephine's?"
he nodded, "you don't mind right?"
before you could say another word, he had pulled into the driveway and the front door opened. josephine stepped onto the porch with the brightest smile you'd ever seen.
"there you are!"
she crossed the yard with surprising speed and pulled you into a hug before you could react.
"happy birthday, sweetheart."
her embrace was warm and comforting. the kind that made your chest ache because it felt so natural.
"you must be freezing," she fussed, rubbing your arms. "come inside."
the moment you stepped through the door, caleb's sister appeared from the kitchen carrying a gift bag.
"there she is!" she beamed. "i was starting to think caleb got lost."
"i have an excellent sense of direction."
she rolled her eyes before pressing the gift bag into your hands.
"happy birthday!"
you blinked confused. you were not expecting this. "you...got me something?"
"well of course i did it's your birthday."
the simplicity of her answer nearly brought tears to your eyes. dinner was loud in the best way. josephine insisted your plate wasn't full enough every five minutes. caleb and his sister argued over who had stolen the last dinner roll.
josephine pointed her spoon toward them. "both of you, behave."
they exchanged identical sheepish smiles, and you couldn't help but laugh. caleb noticed immediately, smiling to himself. 'mission accomplished' he thought.
later after dinner, josephine disappeared into the kitchen to clean up while caleb's sister chased after her to help. you and caleb wandered onto the back porch, each carrying a mug of tea. for a while, neither of you spoke.
finally, you broke the silence. "thank you...i didn't realize how much i needed today."
you stared down into your mug. "i know they're my family." your voice was quiet. "so why does it feel like...like i'm grieving people who are still alive?"
caleb didn't answer immediately. instead, he rested his forearms on the porch railing.
"when i was adopted..." he smiled faintly. "i used to wonder if i'd ever really belong."
his laugh was soft. "it's funny, isn't it? even when people love you completely, insecurity still finds a way in."
you listened quietly as he spoke.
"it took me a long time to realize something." he turned toward you. "family isn't the people who make you question whether you're wanted. it's the people who make you forget you ever had to ask."
your throat tightened at his words.
"i know our situations aren't the same," he continued. "i wasn't forgotten. i was chosen. and every single day after that, my family kept choosing me."
inside, you could hear josephine laughing as she scolded his sister for trying to sneak frosting from the birthday cake. the sound made the house feel alive.
caleb reached over, gently taking your hand. "i wish your family had done the same for you."
a tear slipped down your cheek. "i keep wondering what i did wrong."
"nothing. you did nothing wrong."
his answer was immediate.
"you don't forget someone you love because they weren't lovable. you forget because you failed them."
you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. "i feel guilty for how comfortable i am here."
"don't." he smiled. "josephine made enough food for eight people."
he glanced toward the kitchen. "you know why?"
you shook your head.
"she says a home should always be ready for one more person."
as if on cue, the back door slid open.
"there you two are," josephine called. "cake's ready."
then, with a smile so full of affection it nearly undid you, she added,
"come on, sweetheart. we saved the first slice for the birthday girl."
not because they felt obligated. not because they pitied you. simply because, somewhere along the way, they had made room for you without ever asking for anything in return.
caleb smiled as he stood, offering you his hand.
"i told you. there's always room."
this time, when you followed him back inside, you didn't feel like a guest. you felt like someone they had already decided belonged.
valko
☆ takes your situation personally. he's deeply loyal to the people he considers family, so seeing yours hurt you leaves him frustrated on your behalf.
☆ doesn't immediately jump to anger, though. he asks questions first—"has it always been like this?" "what do you want to happen?"
☆ gives surprisingly thoughtful advice because he's seen firsthand how families can survive hardship—or fall apart.
☆ encourages therapy if it's available.
☆ if you're considering cutting contact, he won't pressure you either way.
☆ the first time you cry in front of him over your parents, he simply pulls you against his chest and lets you cry until you're exhausted.
☆ makes sure you eat afterward because emotional breakdowns usually mean you've forgotten to take care of yourself.
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word count: 829
valko knew something was wrong before he even stepped through the door. he set his things down, his eyes immediately scanning the room. then he saw you. curled up on the couch. wrapped in one of his shirts. your knees pulled to your chest, your face half-hidden in the sleeves as you sniffled quietly.
for a moment, he just stood there. not because he didn't know what to do. because seeing you hurting always made something in him ache.
your head lifted at the sound of footsteps. and the second you saw him, your expression crumpled. valko didn't hesitate. he pulled you into his arms, letting you bury yourself against him.
"let it out."
you held onto him tightly tears falling. "i'm sorry."
his brows furrowed. "for what?"
you gestured weakly toward the shirt you were wearing.
"i took one of your shirts."
he looked down then back at you. "that's what you're apologizing for?"
you looked away sheepishly. "it just smelled like you. it was comforting."
something in his expression softened immediately. he tipped your chin up gently. "you never have to apologize for wanting comfort. besides, i was wondering when you'd finally admit you like stealing my clothes."
despite everything, a tiny laugh escaped you. that was all he wanted. a little bit of you back.
valko didn't ask what happened right away. he knew better. instead, he sat beside you, one arm around your shoulders, letting you settle.
when your breathing finally evened out, he spoke quietly.
"family?"
you froze then sighed, "yeah."
you told him everything. the argument and the familiar feeling of being too much and not enough at the same time.
valko was quiet for a moment then he stood. "put on your coat. you're coming with me."
"valko—"
"no." he looked back at you. "you're going to sit here and replay every word they said until you convince yourself they're right."
you opened your mouth to speak but he raised an eyebrow.
"am i wrong?"
you closed it, "...no."
"exactly."
his hand reached for yours, "so we're leaving."
you ended up at an ice cream shop ten minutes later. you stared at him across the counter.
"you brought me here?" because i had a breakdown?"
"because you had a bad day." he corrected before he accepted the ice cream cups from the cashier.
"and because everyone deserves ice cream after dealing with people who make their life harder."
that earned him another small smile.
the park was quiet in the evening. the two of you sat on a bench beneath the trees, your ice cream slowly melting as you watched people pass by. for a while, neither of you spoke.
then valko leaned back. "you know, my family was never really just about blood."
you looked over as he watched the children playing nearby.
"my pack was raised differently. the women in my pack were the ones who taught me that. strength wasn't just fighting. it was caring for everyone around you. they raised the young together. fed each other. protected each other."
a small smile appeared, "if someone had a child, that child belonged to all of us."
you listened quietly.
"there were always different kinds of families. some parents were strict. some were gentle. some weren't there at all. but the pack made sure no one grew up thinking they were alone."
he looked down at his ice cream.
"i remember asking one of the elders why everyone cared so much about children who weren't theirs."
"what did she say?"
valko smiled faintly, "she said, 'because they are ours.'"
the words stayed with you. they were so simple yet carried so much meaning.
"that's how i learned family isn't just about who brings you into the world."
his gaze turned toward you, "it's about who chooses to stand beside you after."
your eyes stung, "i wish my family thought like that. i feel like i'm always trying to prove i'm enough."
valko's expression shifted. sadness trying to make it's way through but he held strong.
he nudged your shoulder lightly, "you know what my pack taught me? everyone has a place. everyone contributes something. no one is expected to be perfect before they're cared for."
a small smile tugged at his lips as he took your hand in his. "so stop acting like you need to prove you're allowed to be here."
your eyes softened, "here?"
he squeezed your hand. "with me."
when you returned home later, you changed back into his shirt without thinking. valko noticed. he didn't tease you this time. he just smiled.
"keeping it?"
you looked embarrassed. "maybe."
"good."
"you don't mind?"
he shook his head. "not even a little." then he pulled you close again. "next time you feel like the world is too much..." his hand rested against your back. "come find me. you don't have to carry everything alone."
you relaxed against him and for the first time that day, you believed him.
Caleb x Fem Reader. Smut MDNI. Subleb for the five of us that enjoy him ;)
Your lips felt warm against Caleb's thigh. Every touch left behind a bright kiss mark. Caleb wasn't sure how much more he can take. "Pips please?" His voice was laced with need.
You looked up innocently at him on your knees as he sat on the couch. "Please what?"
It started out as a fun cute idea. You tested out your new lipstick on your boyfriend. You used his face as your canvas, leaving kiss marks all over him. You moved on to his neck and chest. From there you moved further and further down.
"Don't make me beg." He grabbed your chin, guiding you towards his hard aching cock. You giggled at his desperation. It took everything in him not to forcefully shove his cock down your throat. Your hand wraps his cock, jerking him off slowly. He whimpers and thrusts into your hand.
You give the tip a small lick before kissing the under side of his cock. "Oh Fuck baby." He hissed out in pleasure. You leave a trail of kiss marks, moving your lips back up towards his tip. You lick the tip again, tasting his pre cum. You kiss another side of his cock, making sure no spot was left without your mark.
So began your teasing pattern of kissing and licking. Caleb whimpers your name. Your possessiveness stirs within you seeing him like this, covered in your marks. It's like you were claiming him. Only you could ever touch him and no one else. He was your Caleb.
"I'm gonna cum… Fuck." You stop and watch him climax. His cock twitches, shooting out his cum on to the floor.
"I barely did anything and you came."
"Yeah because you wouldn't stop teasing me." He grabs your hand, guiding you to straddle his lap. His cock was still hard. You feel a sting when he suddenly bites your neck. "It's my turn to mark you. It's only fair right?"
Summary: How many bets does it take until you realize what he's trying to tell you?
Pairing: Caleb Xia x non-mc!reader.
Warnings: Fluff, Smut, Humor, Enemies (sort of) to lovers, slight DubCon, College au, not proofread.
Word Count: 3.7k.
Notes: I tried not to go overboard with this one by keeping it short.
To everyone else, he’s an angel sent above.
The popular kid. Voted “Most Handsome” on school forums and has his own personal fan club that isn't entirely connected to him playing basketball. Makes all the girls swoon when he walks by and some have fainted when he smiles and winks. Makes all the boys either burn with admiration or jealousy over the man he is.
To you, he’s that annoying classmate you share one module with despite doing entirely different courses.
Always teasing and lightly poking fun at you just to make you snap at him because “you’re so cute when you’re mad, babe” as he pinches your cheek and oh, you hate that nickname because you're not his babe or his baby or his anything, yet he insists on calling you that for whatever reason.
Always gnawing at your last working nerve just because he can. Always pulling the strap of your backpack to drag you to his side when you attempt to move away. Always stepping in your way when you try to walk away from whatever conversation he entraps you in. Always slugging an arm over your shoulders and still smiling when you shrug him off. Always flirting, blowing kisses and finding ways to step over the very clear lines you've set to keep him as far away from you as possible.
You only endure it because he’s not actively hurting you. It would be an entirely different thing if he pulled your hair or hit you or shoved you and made real insults to your looks and character. Though somehow he is toeing that line, you just don't do much about it because he's just being annoying.
You dread having to sit next to him every thursday morning because the class is almost always full and he saves you a seat every single time so you’re forced to endure that three hour lecture with him quietly nattering in your ear and nudging you when the professor isn’t looking.
Somehow, he weasels his way into your small friend group and practically nests at your best friend’s apartment because he’s best friends with her boyfriend, Gideon, just to get under your skin even more.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, Professor Lucius pairs you and the fucker for an upcoming presentation instead of Zayne and thus, you’re forced to spend even more time with him to prepare for it. Surprisingly, he carries his weight and does his part with all the research, making the power-point and rehearsing what has to be said but he doesn’t miss an opportunity to work on your every last nerve.
“Bet I can beat you.” He holds the controller up.
You’re still peeved that he went through your dorm room while you were getting yourself a glass of juice at the cafeteria. All because your roommate let him in as she was heading out for the night.
“I’m a pro at this game. You’re not beating me.” you attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible as you try to swipe the item off his hands, only for him to quickly lift it up as high as he can so you can’t reach it. “Caleb.”
Then. It comes out of nowhere.
“Best two out of three then.” he grins. “If I win, I get to grope your boobs.”
Scoundrel. Absolute maniac of a human being.
Shock paints your expression before it's replaced by pure rage. “You disgusting pervert. Get out of my room!”
You shove at him to no avail. Standing well over six feet and got a whole lot of muscle to withstand being toppled over, you strength paled in comparison to his. Eventually, when you fail to get him out, you decide on leaving the room. Or trying to anyway.
“C’mooon. You’re already so good at this game.” he cajoles, blocking you when you try to exit the room. “It’s not like I’m gonna win anyway.”
You cross your arms, practically steaming out the ears. “No.”
“If I lose, you get to kick me out right now.” he offers.
“Or you could just leave.” you counter through gritted teeth.
“And I will be obligated to bring any meal you want for the rest of the semester.”
Rolling your eyes, you make the mistake of turning your back on him. “You don’t have that kind of money, dipshit.”
“Yes, I do and you know it.” You hate that he’s right. The fucking bastard circles around in the small dorm to stand in front of you. “Now come on, babe. are you in or out?”
He holds out the controller to you. A challenge. An offer to prove him wrong. An opportunity to finally put him in his place (outside of your own little space). You don’t want to indulge him, but he makes this all too enticing.
You look at your small gaming console. An old PS2. It’s not that you couldn’t afford to save up for the latest ones, you just cling to this one for nostalgia purposes and had it stashed away under your bed for whenever Caleb comes around.
One of your only sources of comfort. Yet now it’s being used against you in this ridiculous bet.
A heavy sigh leaves your breath and you snatch the controller from his hand.
“You better not complain when I tell you to order takeouts in the middle of the night.”
Betrayed by your own hubris, you sit down next to him in front of your monitor and start the game. Worst mistake you’ve made so far and you hadn’t realized it yet.
The first round was easily yours. You cleared him without so much as breaking a sweat in under two minutes.
The second round is where he takes you by surprise. What went from how does this thing work and what does this button do turns into ooh, i get it now and you find your character’s HP being rapidly depleted until it dies.
You stare at the screen in silent shock over how in the fucking hell that could’ve possibly happened. Warmth blooming under your skin when you realize that you’re dangerously close to losing your dignity.
That you’re dangerously close to letting him cross the line.
“Close your mouth, baby. You’re catching flies.” You glare at his cheeky smile. It takes a monumental effort to resist the urge to smack him.
“Round three.” the announcer calls. “Fight!”
You both focus intently. The music plays as you immediately go on the offensive and deploy a rapid succession of attacks, which Caleb barely has time to block.
The atmosphere is tense. You’re both facing off in a deadly final match. Caleb makes his play and chops down your life little by little. He makes little quips and comments, which you counter in barely restrained volatile replies.
You fight back, waiting for the power to build up before you finally get the chance to strike. Beside you, he makes a noise of surprise when you sweep the legs of his character and launch your hypercombo finish. He’s in severe distress when it connects and cuts his HP by less than half.
Then. He goes real quiet. He’s almost dead. HP a mere speck on the top of the screen, a lethal marker of his hubris.
But the fire in his eyes is brighter than ever. Hands gripping the controller, mouth pressed into a firm line as he leans forward in his cross-legged seated position. He’s locked in.
The game rages on. Lights flashing, sounds blaring through the small speakers of your computer. Hit after hit, your life drains even further and he miraculously dodges your oncoming attack which would’ve surely ended him him.
Before you can even comprehend what happens, he catches you in his finisher and you’re as good as gone.
“K.O!”
You stare in debilitating shock as your character goes down for the last and final time that night while Caleb’s stands triumphant.
He... He won.
The moment of silence that follows was deafening. A lapse of complete and utter peace before you glance at your side to find Caleb's awaiting smug face staring back at you.
“Caleb.” you warn.
“We had a deal.”
He’s already on you before you realize it.
Pinned to the carpeted floor before you can take your next breath, you’re struck by the whirlwind that is Caleb’s raw and unbridled desire, along with one singular realization.
He’s been planning this since the very beginning.
You walked right into his trap from the moment you allowed yourself to think that bruising his ego was more important than your pride. And he knew this.
He was banking on this.
And you fell for it.
Hook, line and sinker.
Regardless.
The game is still afoot and you refuse to take this lying down (pun intended).
“Ten seconds.” you grit through your teeth. “That's all you're getting, you piece of shit.”
He grins, wide, bright and proud of all the hard work he put into this rouse. “This is gonna be the best ten seconds of my life.”
It fucking better be, you silently gripe. You never took note of how big his hands are until they’re slowly tracing up your torso to gently grasp each breast over the cloth covering them. Your breath hitches when he does not waste a moment to squeeze.
Time seemingly stops as his gaze drops to your chest. Every ounce of his mirth fading away. He zeros in on this singular moment, this very thing that he fought so hard to achieve.
It takes everything in you not to squirm as he plays with your breasts like they’re his own personal stress balls. But the sharp noise bubbling from your throat gives you away when his thumb and forefinger inch closer to pluck your nipples through the thin fabric.
“This is–”
It’s the furthest thing from dignified. And it’s been more than ten seconds. He took more than what he’s owed.
You push his hands away, breaths heaving. “That’s enough.”
His hard stare never leaves your chest. Adam’s apple bobbing with a thick gulp when he noticed the one defining piece of evidence that you’re not as unaffected by this as you led on.
Your hardened nipples outlined through your tank top.
Immediately, you’re crossing your hands over your chest in defense and just like that, Caleb’s playful demeanour returns as if it had never even disappeared, but the heat in his eyes never leaves. He tilts his head and you hate the way something in your belly burns sharply at that.
“Wanna play another game?”
“No.”
Instantaneous. You’d think the sharp tone of your answer would shut him down.
It doesn’t. Of course it doesn’t.
“Free ice cream and slushies for the rest of the semester if you win.”
The offer is far from enticing after this embarrassing loss. There was no way in hell you’re sacrificing your pride again for the sake of free deserts and bragging rights for however long he’ll allow it.
“And if I lose?” you scoffed, getting up to move as far away from him as possible. “Where else do you want to touch, you pervert?”
He follows on his feet, quicker, his movements more pronounced, more intentional as he backs you up against your small desk, hands caging you on either side.
Your breath catches when he’s close– too close to allow any sort of comfort. Close enough that his nose brushes against yours, that the warmth of his body radiates from the limited distance.
In the enclosed space, there was hardly any place you could escape to and hardly anywhere to hide the thundering in your heart. Any closer and Caleb might just kiss you.
You hate how much that doesn’t seem as unappealing as you want it to be.
“Your pussy.”
That rat bastard– The fucking audacity of this man.
“Absolutely the fuck not.”
“With my fingers.” he continues, completely undeterred by your scowl. “For five minutes.”
“Five min– No!” Absurd. Unthinkable that he would even extend the time so exponentially from ten seconds.
You shove him and scurry over to the door while his voice rings behind you, “I’ll even throw in an orgasm while I’m at it.”
“You’re out of your goddamn mind, Caleb.” you snapped.
He’s still grinning when you an all but throw him out of your room. Gleeful and proud after claiming his victory over you.
“There’s no way in hell I’m agreeing to that!”
And yet somehow, you wind up here.
In his room. On his terms. As he's kneeling in front of you and peeling your leggings off from under your skirt after you’d lost yet another game.
“Get up.” you struggle to maintain your glare. “You’re not eating me out, Caleb.”
“I could.” he offers.
“That wasn’t part of the deal.”
Caleb has a nasty habit of trying to add terms and conditions that were not previously set into whatever bet he’s got going on and it is pissing you off because more often than not, you’ve ended up on the short end of the stick.
His lopsided grin widens, head tilting. “Then I’ll save it for the next game.”
You kiss your teeth. “There is no next game–”
He chooses that exact moment to catch you off guard. Mid sentence, your words catching in your throat when his hand reaches between your thighs to where he wants you the most. His fingers trace your clit and you’ve lost your train of thought.
“You sure about that?” he rasps, nipping your thigh. “With how much you’re already dripping all over my fingers right now?”
As proof, your treacherous cunt leaks all over Caleb’s hand. You have no leg to stand on when a strangled noise forces its way out of your throat when he makes little circles on your bud.
“That’s right, sweetheart.” he kisses the inside of your knee, reverent. “You threw the game on purpose, didn’t you?”
“I did not!” You didn’t– You didn’t. He’s just saying that to rile you up. And you hate how well it works because it only serves to heighten his glee. “You’re just–”
You choke on your next words when his fingers slip into your fluttering pussy. How are you already so close?
“I’m just what? Too good? Gonna make you cum?”
His taunt earns him nails purposefully digging into his shoulders. Painful enough to make him hiss. Serves him right.
“Yeah?” he presses down on your clit. “Go ahead then, baby. Cum for me.”
The high crashes into you before you can try to fight it. It rushes up like a geyser, hot and blistering so much that you tremble in the surge of it. A weak mewl of his name as blood roars in your ears before he leans up and slots his lips onto yours.
It all falls downhill from there. Your resistance against Caleb wavering with the gentle sweep of his tongue and shattering under the nip of his teeth on your lip.
You weakly push at his shoulders while managing a glare. “No kissing.”
He leans in again and presses his mouth on yours anyway, uncaring of your ire, unchanging in his desire, in his need to punish you for whatever his whims command of him.
“That’s a penalty.” you mumbled the words between his lips. "It’s gonna cost you.”
“Worth it.” he moans right back at you before his tongue licks into your mouth.
Unfortunately, Caleb was right. There was a next game.
As promised, he took what he was owed. Buried his head between your thighs and nestled there until both of you were soaked, until his moans mixed alongside the lewd wet noises of the slick pouring out of your cunt.
“Caleb– Caleb–” the tightness in your voice rings through the quiet space of your room.
Each stroke of his tongue more desperate than the last. The noise he makes does nothing to help stave off the heat building in your core. Your fingers grip his hair, trying to pull him off of your throbbing clit to no avail. He won’t let you go. Hands pinning your knees apart, breaths heaving as he inhales your heavy scent. Eyes blown when he gazes upon your wrecked expression.
He’s well past the point of no return. And you’re close behind.
His tongue returns between your fold and your eyes roll back. Back arching into his touch, a noiseless gasp leaving you when he pulls another orgasm out of you.
The next game was worse.
The conditions were far more steep, far more treacherous than a few fingers and stolen kisses. You find your hands shaking when you held the controller, your victory ripped away from you before you had time to compose yourself from the shock of hearing it.
“Just the tip.”
Dangerous. Yet you’re laying back against the bed, listening to the soft clink of his belt cut through the air. Delirious as you watch him loom over you, parting your legs to make space for him, yet hating yourself to have even agreed to this in the first place.
“I hate you.” you whisper, though your eyes were soft and held the furthest thing from disdain.
You both hiss when his cock grazes your cunt. Your skin burns hotly, blistering as he settles between your thighs, notching the blunt tip at the cut of you.
“Don’t hate the player, sweetheart.” he chokes out, eyes shut tight as he plants a hand next to your head. “Hate the game.”
“I hate both.” you manage to counter. “One more than the other.”
“That didn’t seem to be the case when you were coming on my–”
You wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze. “Guess again.”
He moans, hips canting once. In doing so, he slides in a little deeper than intended. Your grip falters and he takes it as an opportunity to pin them above your head.
“Caleb.” you squeak desperately. He rocks his hips again and you’re losing grip on language, your voice spilling more broken mewls than words.
He’s stripping you down to bare bones and pouring all his unbridled lust on what’s left, torturous in his pursuit of making you come undone. And succeeding in doing so.
You can’t bring yourself to recall anyone so determined, so desperate to get under your skin. You watch as Caleb takes his time in his task. His breaths heady, gaze heavy and reverent. So full of something that has long hidden behind playful banter and teasing.
He lets go of your hands, trailing his own down your body. The heat of his palms ignites something in you that feels all too familiar and foreign all at the same time. You’re not stopping him when he takes hold of your hips and thrusts deeper and harder.
“This is–” you keen, head tipping back against the pillow. “more than… more than… fuck…”
You feel so full of him when he finally sinks in at the hilt. You’re clenching so tightly around him, pulsing around his thick shaft.
A shuddering breath leaves him before he grits out, “Is th–that an invitation, sweetheart?”
“Shut up!”
That earns you a kiss to shut you up. You feel his laughter spilling into your mouth as he’s slow with his thrusts, gentle not to hurt you as he’s stretching you open, breaking every rule you’ve set for yourself to not involve yourself with him.
It’s undeniable now.
He’s bending your very will.
You realize this as the moans pour out of your mouth like a waterfall as his pase hastens, now his cock glistening under the light as he pulls your hips back into his punishing thrusts. Enough so that he revels in them, spurred on by the very sound of you unraveling under his touch.
“S’about damn time I made you sound like that, baby.” the weight of his body is on you as he nips your ear. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”
“Sounds–” The last consonant trails off into a sharp hiss before you force out the rest of the words, “like you got a crush, Xia.”
He laughs, delighted. You’re struck by how genuine, by how relieved he sounds for you to have come to that conclusion in the midst of all his nonsense.
“Took you long enough to notice.” you barely open your eyes to find how close he is, his nose brushing against yours before he steals a peck. “Why do you think I’ve been desperate to win every bet, huh?”
He’s impossible. Utterly and infinitely impossible.
Before you can decide against it, you’re pulling him closer to slant your lips against his, legs wrapping around his waist and crossing at his back. You don’t have time to regret that decision once you feel grinding against your clit, drawing you too close to edge too quickly before you’re hurled over it.
The effect was devastating enough to have you writhing under him.
“Fuck, you’re coming already?” Kisses trail down your neck in a soft line. “We barely even started, baby.”
It’s moments like this when you’re glad that your dormmate is an extrovert who regularly stays out on weekends. Because you’re not sure if you would’ve been able to look her in the eye if she’d walked in on you getting fucked like a whore in this shared space.
As of now, Caleb lays under you with your head on his chest and his fingers drawing little abstract shapes on your shoulder.
“For our next game…” he starts, breaking the long silence. “I want a date.”
So. That’s what this all was.
You sigh in resignation. Even if your stomach flutters at the thought. To think that he’s been doing all this just to ask you out.
He’s such an idiot. A genius, considering you would’ve said no if he’d outright asked but an idiot nonetheless.
“Or we could just skip the game.”
He looks down to you. “Now where would be the fun in that?”
You roll your eyes, even as a smile stretches across your lips. Of course this would be foreplay to him. The sick bastard enjoyed messing with you as much as he likes fucking you.
And yet, even knowing this, for the first time, you’re glad to have lost. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have led to this being the outcome.
caleb's aftercare must be soooo nice... him kissing you right after finishing and telling you to stay right where you are while he goes and grabs a towel... him wiping you down gently and with so much care, being intentional to make sure he cleans every bit of you... him noticing the small marks he's left on you after gripping you just a little too tightly... him kissing you softly on said marks, murmuring his apologies because he got carried away and got too rough... him slowly getting turned on again as he continues to wipe you down, but restraining himself after seeing how tired you are... him getting you a glass of water and making you finish it before he gets back into bed with you... him whispering praises in your ear as he cuddles with you, telling you how good you felt and how well you did... him holding you as you doze off in his arms, enjoying the way your skin feels against his, the way you let out soft little sighs as you fall asleep in his embrace
You were fucking ruined. You knew it. Caleb knew it. Heck, maybe your neighbors knew it too!
The way you screamed that night, cursing his name into the walls of your apartment without a care in the world. The way you arched into the bed every time he kissed your cervix. You were pretty damn sure that everyone within the vicinity heard you, and soon the whole building would know his name. You don’t know how you were still walking the next day, because that man was a menace to your pussy.
Caleb was the kind of person to overindulge in his meals, you may have only allowed him a taste, but the moment the sweet juices of your cunt caressed his aching red cock—well, to say his mind left to another world was simply an understatement.
You had wanted to try out a new ‘sexy move’ that was guaranteed to have a man cum in an instant, and who was a better subject to test than Caleb; that way you could try it on your date later. His bulky back laid along the couch, not completely fitting his physique, so the rest of his legs dangled at the end; his pants and boxers pulled just enough for his cock to whip out, angry against his stomach already leaking precum in excitement.
Your thighs straddled his waist, panties discarded on the floor, your folds dripping with lust. Caleb had to fight every urge to not rut into your pussy like a dog in heat.
“Mmm ‘kay, are you ready?” Hovering right above his boner, he could feel your heat radiating; he just nodded enthusiastically to your question, desperate to feel you on him, “Yeah–yeah, whenever you are, pips.”
He saw the light from the pearly gates when your soft pudginess touched his length, head laid back in a groan, if you ended it there with yourself sat on his dick, he truly wouldn’t complain. The vibrations of your muscle pulsing atop his girth forced him to inhale sharply, you were so hot, the tips of your clit licking the veins along his length, gently rocking your hips in a rhythm, you could feel every twitch as you traced along him.
It was actual fucking torture, he wasn’t allowed to do anything, he couldn’t pin you to the cushion and fuck you stupid, neither could he slide into your sweet hot pussy while you rode him. He was merely a test subject for your sex ideas, and as a test subject he had to lay there and look pretty while you tried to make him cum at the feeling of your warm sinful wet cunt pulsating on top of him.
You kept your movements slow and steady, sliding his foreskin back and forth, precum mixing in with your arousal acting as a lubricant for the rest of his thickness. “That feel good, ‘leb?” Humming out the question, while your hips circled around his tip, hands pressed against Caleb’s big chest as you found a good rhythm.
His pathetic groans were your only answer and it wasn’t long before he began to spill his entire load on his t-shirt. Grey cloth stained with spurts of white goo, and the poor man making this mess was completely out of it. Breath freshly gone from his lungs, burnt like a tomato, and hips jerking from overstimulation.
But he forgot you weren’t completely his yet. Just a fuck-toy. A test buddy. He was alone with his sticky left-overs while you made your way to the shower. Cleaning up before you went to your blind date, giggling to yourself of the image that would be your date when you finished with them. Breathless and creamed all over. Just like your Caleb.
summary: caleb has been acting off recently, and you can’t figure out why. mc’s sick of your moping and is convinced that everything is a misunderstanding, so she drags you to skyhaven with the help of gideon.
alternatively: you and caleb are struggling with long-distance, but the both of you refuse to acknowledge it in fear of everything changing. so, you pretend like everything is normal until you can’t anymore.
pairing: caleb xia x female non-mc! reader
wc: 9.1k
warnings: fluff, angst(?), miscommunication, mentions of death, suggestive, takes place during caleb’s academy days, caleb is insecure and runs away from his problems, super self-indulgent, caleb gets on his knees and begs, reader and caleb are down bad for each other, ooc, not proofread
note: it was supposed to be a short stupid thing which is why the beginning lwky doesnt fit w the rest of the story but im too lazy to fix
—
“i don’t think this is a good idea,” you stiffly announce, too scared to move a micrometer.
on the other hand, mc proudly surveys the unfamiliar surroundings. “c’mon, we’re already here! it’d be a waste to turn back now. plus, valko spent so much time working on these,” she points at her earring, and your matching one, that she got just for this.
you face is twisted up in disbelief and anxiety over your current situation as you stiffly move your head to meet mc’s determined smirk.
“don’t look at me like that! it’s not like we’re spying on him non-consensually,” mc huffs out, clearly not satisfied with your lack of trust.
willing yourself, you finally allow yourself to relax a bit to glance around the maze-like campus. “but isn’t that exactly what we’re doing?”
“hey!” mc interrupts, smacking your back in an attempt to encourage you to move. instead, you launch forward a few steps, not expecting the sudden assault.
“ack!”
“give me some slack,” she tuts at you. mc smoothly pulls you into step with her since you’re too busy trying to soothe the stinging pain on your back to put up much of a fight.
mc moves to adjust her clothes while she tries to find an excuse to defend herself. “gideon gave us the go-ahead, so technically we aren’t doing anything wrong?”
“we?” you defeatedly sigh out, accepting your fate.
suddenly, a wagging finger is thrusted into your face. you skid to a stop as mc taunts you. “ha, don’t act like you aren’t the whole reason why we’re here, and not to mention how you’re the one who was moping around while stalking caleb’s social media!”
“wait, don’t say that so loud!” you frantically try to calm down mc.
unfortunately, your flustered reaction only fuels her to continue. “not to mention how you would constantly refresh his feed and even—“
“okay, okay! i get it,” you quickly slam your hands together. “i apologize for ever doubting you, my goddess! please take pity on this humble being, oh great one,” you plead with your eyes squeezed closed, head tilted down.
a hand tugging yours apart causes you to snap open your eyes. “hmph, should’ve said that from the beginning,” mc oh so graciously accepts your begging with an amused smirk on her face.
an exhausted sigh escapes your now resigned figure as mc tugs you along. “hey, seriously. don’t worry. it’s probably just a misunderstanding,” mc tries to reassure you.
“i hope you’re right,” you dejectedly sigh. “i just don’t get why he’s acting so weird all of a sudden. we were fine when he first moved to skyhaven,” you exclaim.
mc hums as she listens to you rant. “listen, everyone knows how devoted caleb is. so if anything, this entire thing is probably just him being stupid,” she theorizes.
before you can complain even more, mc quickly cuts you off, “okay, no more stalling! we’re late, and if gideon leaves, we’re actually screwed!”
—
the first thing gideon feels when he finally spots the two of you rushing towards him is relief. the first thing he says is: “what’s up with the get-up?”
gideon carefully analyzes the unusual clothing you and mc are wearing. mc spares no time to show off the face altering technology disguised as an unsuspecting earring that valko gifted her, “wait, watch this.” mc reaches for her singular unique earring, the other pair resting on your ear, and presses it. gideon is stunned when mc’s facial features are slightly altered, but the change is enough to make her unrecognizable at a glance.
“woah,” gideon’s mouth drops open.
beaming with pride, mc’s quickly deactivates the device. “cool, right? we’re gonna use this to spy on caleb!”
confused, gideon blinks at mc and you. “uhh, how exactly is that going to help you hide from caleb?”
“uh, duh. how would we spy on caleb if he always spots us whenever we’re within a 10 mile radius?” mc says like it’s the most obvious thing ever.
still confused, gideon cautiously speaks up, “uh, yeah.” he breaks out of his staring contest with your questionable outfits to dumbfoundedly glance between you and mc. “that’s my whole point.”
now you’re confused too. “what do you mean?” you ask. gideon can only afford to respond with a deadpan stare, as if he’s witnessing the world’s most oblivious and hopeless case.
mc takes offense, and irritatedly lets out, “what’s that face supposed to mean?”
“i-“ exasperated, gideon stops himself to take a deep breath before continuing. “look, you said it yourself. if ‘canine caleb’ can sense your guys’ presence whenever he gets a tiny whiff of your scents, then what’s the point of the disguises?”
a silence breaks out as mc begins contemplating her choices. you, on the other hand, try to defend your boyfriend’s honor. “hey, don’t call him a dog,” you weakly protest, immediately cringing as soon as the words leave your lips.
your embarrassment only gets worse when gideon groans out. “you,” he points at you, causing you to tense up, “cannot be talking.”
your brows furrow as you open your mouth to defend yourself, only to get stopped by gideon speaking up again. “oh, please. caleb not being able to recognize his childhood friend is one thing, but him not being able to recognize his girlfriend?”
you know gideon is completely right, but your pride and dignity refuses to lose. “he’s not that bad,” you falsely, but confidently rebut.
“right,” he drags out, “and i don’t have 10 fingers.” he taunts you by shoving both of his, very obviously, 5-fingered hands into your face.
you’re busy smacking gideon’s hands out of your face when mc lights up. “hey,” she mischievously chirps out, rocking back on forth on the heels of her feet, “why don’t we make a bet?”
when both yours and gideon’s attention is completely on her, mc points at you and declares, “i bet caleb will recognize you before me, and i bet he’ll notice within 15 minutes.”
before you could retort, gideon scoffs, “please, be realistic.” a chill fills the air as gideon’s face darkens. you’re starting to regret making every decision that somehow led you here when gideon raises his hand. “i say 5 minutes,” he narrows his eyes competitively at mc.
“deal. winner gets caleb at their beck and call for the entire day,” the two of them shake hands, both clearly satisfied with and determined to win the reward.
aghast at what just happened, you clear your throat. “uhm, do i not get a say in this?”
mc instantly shakes her head, “no way! you’re just going to cheat,” gideon nods along to her words. “and besides, you already have caleb on a leash, so you winning would be a waste,” mc argues.
“seconded,” gideon comments.
sparing him a quick glare, you cross your arms as you unconvincingly mutter, “i do not have him on a leash.”
mc and gideon don’t waste a second before jumping at the chance to let out their fed-up grievances and experiences of life as caleb’s not-girlfriend.
“please, have you even experienced his non-stop nagging?”
“or getting your socks thrown out because he ‘thought it was trash’ since it was left laying on the floor for too long?”
“how about when i lost my front teeth ‘cause i fell off my bike, and whenever he saw me he would laugh until he couldn’t breathe! not to mention how he told me, with a straight face, that the tooth fairy wasn’t real just because i stole a bite of his ice cream?!”
“you think that was bad? i forgot my keys to our apartment, and when i called him for help, all he said was ‘that sounds like a you problem.’ and then he just hung up!”
“don’t get me started on—“
mortified at their alleged stories, you throw your hands up and shout, “okay, i get it!” you’re met with their smug faces as you defeatedly sigh out, “alright, you two deserve it, but how are you going to get him to actually listen?”
your question only makes mc’s smug look grow even more. “don’t you think the owner should take responsibility over their puppy’s wrongdoings?”
speechless and baffled, you stumble over your words to deny mc’s claims. “i- what?! no, wait,” you quickly shake your arms and head side to side to emphasize your disagreement. “i am not his owner! and stop calling him my puppy?!”
“i’d doubt he would complain about being called—“
“no, no. no,” you huff out in a desperate attempt to end the conversation. “if i agree with whatever started this entire thing, will you please never bring that up again, please?”
—
“what happened to the spying plan? why are we just straight up meeting him,” you question the duo as the three of you wait for caleb’s lecture to end.
mc hums, “there really was no point in spying when we all know he isn’t sneaking around.” she turns to meet your anxious gaze with a reassuring one, “seriously, just talk to him. trust me, it’s the easiest way to put an end to this,” mc hooks her arm with yours as an act of comfort.
closing your eyes, you take a deep breath in as you contemplate mc’s words. “okay,” you open your eyes to reflect her encouraging expression, “i trust you.”
not seeing a need for the disguise anymore, you reach up to take off the earring only to get stopped by mc. startled, you glance at her with an eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation for her sudden actions.
“wait,” she sheepishly mutters. casting a quick glance at gideon, mc winces at how childish her next words are going to sound. “uhh, can you keep the disguise on, for, y’know, the bet?”
“no way, this is so stupid. there’s no way he would recognize me in this ridiculous get-up,” you complain, but you end up keeping the disguise on anyway. saying that you aren’t curious about how caleb would react would be a lie.
gideon finally tunes in after finishing up his texts with caleb, probably trying to convince him to meet up after his lecture ends instead of heading home. gideon refuses to pass up a chance to chastise caleb. “please,” he shuts off his phone and looks up at you. “i could hand him a strand of your hair and he wouldn’t even blink before figuring out it’s yours.”
“stop exaggerating,” you huff.
mc chimes in, “he really isn’t, though?” you send her a knowing glance, which she shrugs at.
“well, let’s see who’s right,” gideon raises his arm and begins waving someone down. “caleb, over here,” he shouts, effectively grabbing everyone else’s attention.
you’re freaking out, but you’re given no time to calm down when caleb’s annoyingly big strides allow him to reach your small group within seconds. mc has to nudge you free from your tense state when caleb and gideon start chatting. “snap out of it,” mc scolds through gritted teeth, “you’re going to blow our cover. hold out for another 13 minutes.”
unfortunately for mc, caleb’s eyes flit over to politely acknowledge your presences when he does a double take as soon as he looks at you. without meaning to, the three of you, excluding caleb, hold your breaths as you wait to meet your impending doom.
caleb pays no mind to the sudden silence from gideon, and simply tilts his head, squints his eyes, and scans you from head to toe.
the three of you stare caleb down when he decides that his assessment is done, and bends down to be face-to-face with you.
he’s so close that all you can see is his face, all you can feel is his breath softly spanning across your face, and all you can hear is your scarily rapid heartbeat.
caleb quickly darts his eyes to the side, his analytic gaze lingering for a moment before returning to scan your face for a reaction.
unknowingly, your eyes widen with anticipation and nerves at the thought of him discovering the device, and apparently, that’s all caleb needs to confirm his suspicions.
without any warning, caleb reaches for the earring and pinches it between his fingers. you don’t know how he knows about the existence of the device, but you couldn’t be bothered to care when your altered appearance returns to normal.
everyone freezes for a brief moment before the brightest, yet familiar comforting smile breaks out on caleb’s face, but, unfortunately, you’re only spared a brief glance. you’re not even given the time to grieve before you’re once again filled with utter glee since caleb has taken to pepper kisses all over your face.
“hi, honey,” he smiles against your cheek as you let out a content sigh. “what’re you doing here?” he continues attacking your face while you unconsciously move your hands up to grip onto his shoulders. “not that i’m complaining, ‘f course,” caleb snakes his arms around your waist, pulling you closer until the two of you are chest to chest. the new position forces you to practically break your neck to maintain contact due to caleb’s obnoxious height.
“hi, ‘leb,” you mumble out, too focused on attempting to gently push him back to properly articulate your words. “missed ya, so let me see your face, please?”
and because caleb physically cannot go against your words, he relents, despite his desire to not go another second without his lips on you.
caleb concludes then and there that you’ll always be right, no matter what, because your smile that he’s greeted with is a hundred times better and makes him forget about everything. until mc reminds him of her presence.
“wow, and i thought he would’ve pounced on her.” gideon quirks an eyebrow and glances at mc, “if that’s not him pouncing, then i don’t even wanna imagine the real thing.”
annndd the moment is ruined. caleb sighs as he pulls you into the tightest hug possible. your arms are hooked around his waist, squeezing back to replicate his sentiment.
finally sparing the two intruders a proper once over, caleb does a double take at mc. “woah, what’d i miss? identity crisis or…?” he trails off.
scoffing, mc retaliates at caleb’s obvious bias, “your girlfriend, who you’re practically smothering to death, is dressed the exact same, but you’re judging me?”
caleb merely blinks in response, “it’s different.”
fired up, mc jabs at you, only managing to get a solid 4 pokes before caleb flicks her hand away. “see! please. please, tell me you heard that,” she shouts.
laughing, you pat caleb’s back twice to signal him to let you go, which he begrudging does. “yeah, i noticed,” but before you could comfort mc, gideon speaks up.
“too bad you didn’t win, though,” he shrugs with faux pity.
while mc goes quiet, undoubtedly coming up with an alternate plan, caleb has reverted back to showering you in kisses. he only takes a short break when gideon’s words register in his head. “what d’you mean by ‘win?’ what exactly did i miss?” caleb narrows his eyes at gideon.
ignoring caleb, mc comes out of her daze, snaps her fingers, and points at gideon. “if you take revenge for me, i’ll pay you back,” she promises him.
confused, caleb turns to you for an explanation, but he quickly realizes that you’re busy staring off in a different direction. tracing your line of sight, caleb’s gaze lands on a somewhat growing crowd. he totally forgot he was still in public.
softly squeezing your waist, caleb waits to properly meet your eyes before he whispers out, “hey, did you want to head up to my room?”
no matter how many times caleb proves how well he knows you, and how well he can read you, it’ll still render you breathless. “yeah, was it obvious?” you match his tone, but you’re afraid your eyes give away the overwhelming adoration you hold for him.
a grin spreads on his face as he gently shakes his head. caleb begins speaking again, but his slightly overgrown bangs catch your attention instead. “no,” he breathes out, watching your hand rise to brush his hair out of his eyes. reflexively, caleb closes his eyes to relish in the feeling of your hand running through his hair as he forces himself to finish his sentence, “just wanted to have you to myself again.”
still focused on caleb’s hair, you quietly hum, “you always have me, though?” all caleb can muster in response is a half committed huff, trying to disguise his uncertainty with an act of being too distracted by you now scratching his scalp.
unfortunately for him, you know him just as well as he knows you. “caleb,” you softly demand, halting your movements.
realizing he’s caught, caleb slowly opens his eyes to meet your now worried ones. “it’s just,” he pauses to gather his thoughts while moving to grasp the wrist of your hand, still tangled in his hair.
at the sight of caleb breaking eye contact in favor of staring at the floor, you consider speaking up once more, but the feeling of his thumb caressing your pulse point stops you. soon after, caleb confesses, “it doesn’t feel like i’ll always have you anymore.”
your hand falling from his hair, now seemingly frozen in mid-air, is what causes caleb to drag his vulnerable gaze back up. the sight of your crestfallen expression only makes the pit in his stomach grow.
caleb can’t pinpoint exactly when the pit first made its appearance, but he does know it has been lingering ever since he moved to skyhaven—away from you, away from his home. the longer caleb struggled with the anxiety and nausea-inducing insecurity that came with long-distance, the more he believed that just a minute in your presence would relieve him of his pain.
however, now that he’s basking in your affection, caleb has never felt so wrong. so off. if anything, caleb feels even worse, more jittery at the overwhelming, yet completely nonsensical, idea of you finally realizing that he isn’t worth it.
being with caleb already meant that you had to sacrifice the normal couple lifestyle, along with having to put up with his overprotective and unhinged tendencies. and now, as he burns your unreadable expression into his memory, caleb feels as if he’s burdening you with another one of his problems again.
caleb’s mind goes blank as soon as he notices your lips start to part, and his desire to desperately move on, to return pretending as if everything’s okay, takes over. just as he rushes to reassure you, mc’s approaching voice wakes him up from his spiraling state. drearily, caleb tries to clear up the fog by blinking, yet still staring at you, waiting for you to make the first move of looking away.
internally, caleb knows that he’s actually waiting for you to give him an excuse to run away from his feelings. he’s afraid that by being accepting and admitting his flaws, he’ll shatter the dynamic he shares with you. one wrong move, and he throws away his entire life, he loses his reason to live rather than survive.
caleb has been doing just fine his entire life pretending and holding himself back, so he forces himself to believe that there’s no need to fix what isn’t broken. so he ignores the desperate, burning stares you send his way, he forcibly smooths out his tense expression, and he tears his gaze from yours.
if caleb is given the chance to relish in his false reality for a few more minutes, he’ll always take it no matter what.
slightly tightening his hold on your wrist, caleb glances at his forgotten friends, who are now staring at him, clearly waiting for a response from him. clearing his throat, caleb tries to buy some time for himself while he attempts to read the room.
it isn’t difficult to guess what mc had asked him, despite caleb not paying attention, with the cautious and concerned expressions being displayed on both mc and gideon’s faces. “yeah, i’m- uh, we’re,” he fights against his urge to take a peek at you. “yup, we’re fine,” caleb slowly nods out, however, his tone exposes his own uncertainty.
unable to handle the awkward atmosphere, caleb fakes a tense grin. “we’re goin’ to head back to the apartment,” he takes a step back, carefully tugging you with him. caleb doesn’t fail to notice how you’ve fallen completely silent, but your staring hasn’t faltered once.
caleb makes a mental note to thank gideon and mc later when gideon waves him away, clearly sensing caleb’s dire need of alone time with you. “y’know what, you two go on ahead,” gideon eyes caleb’s tense stance and your worryingly lack of expression. “we’re,” gideon moves a few steps towards mc, “going to get food, so see you later,” he trails off awkwardly before pulling mc away.
now left alone with you, caleb wills himself to slowly slide his hand down from your wrist to cautiously hover over your palm. he waits a few seconds, holding in his breath while giving you a chance to pull away. only to let out a sharp, yet somewhat disappointed, sigh when you show no reaction.
caleb’s heart is racing when he risks interlacing your hands together. yet, the pit in his stomach grows when he notices that you’re no longer looking at him, but rather fully avoiding him instead now.
suddenly, the fantasy wears off, and caleb’s desire to reach his apartment in record time fills him uncomfortably to the brim. antsy to start the conversation that he has been dreading up until now, caleb tries his best to mimic his normal, stable everyday voice. “i walked to campus today, sorry,” he pauses to scan your face. “it’s not that long of a walk, but if you’re not up for it, i can—“ caleb can’t help but ramble off when he’s desperate for you to give a sign that you’re still there, present with him, and not closed off from him.
the overwhelming ache from the pit soothes slightly when you give him a taste of mercy through the act of squeezing his hand.
instantly, caleb cuts himself off, his eyes darting to check on you. when he’s met with the same lack of expression, caleb feels the ache spread upwards. “okay,” he says more to himself. “let’s go?” caleb doesn’t really expect a response, but when you grace him with another squeeze, this time slightly stronger and longer-lasting, he wastes no time starting the painstakingly silent walk.
—
the first thing you notice as soon as you step into caleb’s apartment for the first time is that it’s freezing. the second thing you realize is that the apartment is so heart wrenchingly caleb, with hints of gideon plastered around.
it’s absolutely devastating that you can see your presence scattered around the place too, despite never having been there before. you’re trying your best to stop your darting eyes from making contact with every item that holds a memory, but you can’t help it.
the singular, out-of-place, apple shaped throw pillow that you jokingly made caleb promise you to get just because it reminded you of him.
the tv stand that you and caleb agreed on after spending hours on facetime arguing over about 50 candidates just because you sent him one text about not being able to sleep.
the cat shaped mug sitting in the sink, the same one that you sent him a tiktok about. except that exact mug only came in a matching set, so you know that its missing half—the one you called dibs on—is sitting somewhere, collecting dust in the cupboard as it waits for you to claim it.
if your presence was this prominent in their common space, you’re terrified to see how much of you takes up caleb’s room. on a normal day, you would’ve swooned over caleb’s dedication. unfortunately, today is anything but normal, and all you can focus on is the hurt and confusion clouding your mind.
you had convinced yourself that the reason why caleb was pulling away was because he was busy with his academics. it wasn’t him putting distance between the two of you, but rather him putting up this act that everything was okay and perfect. you tried so hard to be understanding when he stopped telling you every detail about his day and began giving vague answers before redirecting it back to you. it hurt when you had to find out he pulled a muscle, 3 days after the incident, through gideon’s close friends story instead of caleb himself.
you chalked it up to exams and midterms keeping him away, but you knew from every story, every post where caleb was tagged in, that he wasn’t studying.
the worst part was that you trusted caleb, and you still do. you know that cheating would never be an option to him, even if his life was on the line, so you could only come up with one last explanation. caleb was losing interest in you.
except, and maybe it’s conceited of you to think so, but you’re willing to bet everything that there isn’t a single universe where caleb would go down that route either.
and with all possible options crossed off, you’re starting to go insane trying to figure out what was going on with caleb. mc, who was a witness to your meltdown, simply asked why you wouldn’t just ask him. it wasn’t as if he ever actually lied to you. however, to mc’s frustration, you adamantly refused, claiming that if acting normal is already making caleb pull away, then being clingy would just make it worse.
on the other hand, mc wouldn’t give up on her belief that she's one hundred percent sure that this is all a huge misunderstanding, and decided to drag the both of you up to skyhaven to end both of your miseries.
when caleb smothered you just like he used to before he left for skyhaven, you were prepared to give mc the biggest hotpot apology ever. but then, it was as if a switch went off. caleb reverted back to his confusing behavior, which only caused your dread to return tenfold.
now, you’re stiffly standing in the middle of, what you presume to be, your future ex’s apartment. you can hear caleb clearly walking around, asking if you want some water. you so desperately want to wait and see if he’ll pull out the missing cat mug, your cup, but you start to shake and you know that your tears will soon follow.
caleb’s voice has never sounded so loud, yet muffled at the same time when he calls out your name again. but all you can focus on is how frustrated you are. there’s nothing wrong, but everything feels wrong.
you’re too caught up in your mind to realize that caleb has quickly made his way over to you as soon as he noticed your shaking.
caleb immediately takes hold of your shoulders, but before he can verbalize his concern, you snap. “what did i do?” tears welling up in your eyes.
“what?” caleb furrows his eyebrows.
irritated at the entire situation, you shake off his hands and start accusing him. “why won’t you trust me anymore? what did i do wrong?”
heart racing at your sudden change and confused about your accusations, caleb is rendered speechless. unfortunately for him, this only enrages you even more. “i just don’t get it. you won’t talk to me anymore. it feels like im holding you hostage in this relationship,” you take a deep breath in, hiccuping in the process. “i’d rather you just straight up tell me that you want space or something, just don’t make me second-guess everything i do,” you angrily croak out, slightly out of breath.
caleb wasn’t expecting this from you, and now he’s panicking, but you give him no time to collect himself. “i feel like i’m chasing a ghost. like i’m trying to fix something that doesn’t even need fixing!” you’re staring him down now, with tears racing down your cheeks. “it’s not fair to me and you know it,” you move to step away from caleb, and that’s when he finally breaks.
caleb falls to his knees, hands desperately grasping on both sides of your waist, head digging into your stomach. “im so sorry,” he breaths out like it's his last, as if he’s suffocating. whether intentional or not, caleb’s grip tightens like he’s terrified at the possibility of you escaping.
“it’s my fault, i’m the problem. i never meant to push that onto you,” he’s spiraling again, and caleb can’t find the energy to restrain himself when he’s so sure that he’s one wrong move from losing you.
“caleb,” you wearingly whisper. unsure whether you want him to stop or keep on going.
“you know that i can’t live without you, right? that i trust you with my entire being?
god, i’m a coward. i was scared.” he allows himself to briefly pull away from your stomach before he immediately tilts his head up, resting his chin on your abdomen. “i was terrified ‘cause i missed you so, so, so, so much, you don’t understand. i know it doesn’t make sense, but,” he gasps for air, tears starting to stream down his face, “i couldn’t stop thinking about you, you’re on my mind every second, and i can’t help but think you deserve more, but i would rather die than willingly give you up, you know that. please, tell me you know that.”
“caleb,” your mind’s spinning, all you can muster out is his name.
“i can’t do long distance,” he finally admits, voice and face twisted up in distraught. “it was manageable back in linkon ‘cause i was there with you, but up here, i can’t do anything. if you’re hurt or in danger,” caleb pauses before he comes to terms with what has been plaguing his mind for months.
“i’m useless,” caleb feels like he’s going to vomit. “i can’t save you or be there whenever you need me,” he forces out. “you deserve someone who can do all of that, but i’m selfish and i can’t bear losing you. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” caleb weakly atones, his voice gradually becoming shakier.
caleb’s ashamed at how much of a mess he looks, so he returns to burying his face into your stomach, but he doesn’t regret a single thing. for once, caleb feels like he can breathe without the presence of the pit brewing in his stomach anymore.
the apartment is soon overcome with a vulnerable silence, allowing the both of you a brief second to calm down.
after taking a moment to process everything, you carefully push caleb away before lowering yourself onto your knees too. gingerly, you lift your hands and plant them onto his cheeks. “caleb, please look at me,” you quietly plead as you begin soothingly caressing his now flushed face.
even now, at what he thinks is his lowest, caleb can’t refuse your words, so he obeys. an exhausted sigh escapes his lips as he tilts his head up, and rests his forehead against yours.
you swear you feel your heart swell when you take in caleb’s ruffled and worn-down appearance. whether or not he’s aware of it, caleb’s slightly reddened and puffy eyes are accompanied by a pair of furrowed eyebrows and slightly parted lips. if you weren’t in such an emotionally vulnerable situation, you would’ve been all over him right now. without intending to, you can’t help but let out a laugh at this rare state of his.
quickly pulling yourself together, you finally allow your words to flow out. “you’re an idiot, xia,” you huff out. “you’re saying all this stupid crap about how i deserve someone who’ll always be there for me no matter what, but,” you breath out, a knowing smile stretching across your face.
caleb knows this is the worst timing ever, but he can’t stop himself. his breath hitches at the sight of your oh so familiar smile mixed with your own tears and puffy expression that reflects his. caleb thinks this is what he’ll see when he dies and arrives at the gates of heaven. he’s so transfixed on how perfect you look that he almost misses your next words.
“caleb,” you adoringly whisper out, your smile only growing bigger as his eyes meet yours. “you’re my everything too.”
you lower a hand down to rest on the base of his neck as you lean into his ear. “even if i somehow decide to choose someone else, which is never happening, i will always run to you first for everything. i can’t help it,” you finish off with a peck to his cheek.
the soft puffs of his breath against your neck, along with the ticklish feeling of his fluttering eyelashes, encourages you to go on. “did you forget that you’ve been dropping everything for me whenever i call for you, no matter how minuscule the issue, ever since we’ve met?” you grin at the sound of his satisfied humming against your neck.
you don’t stop the onslaught of kisses as you continue whispering affirmations meant just for caleb’s ears. at some point, caleb rediscovers his strength as he tightly snakes his arms around your waist while shoving his face into your neck.
caleb’s breathing has evened out a while ago, and you’ve completely lost feeling in your legs long before, but you couldn’t care less. you’re pretty sure caleb’s asleep, however, that doesn’t stop you from confessing one last thing. “‘leb,” you slur out, your own voice and body eventually losing the battle against exhaustion. “i don’t know how you can’t see that i need you as much as you need me,” you sigh out, squeezing caleb’s limp body into an even tighter hug as sleep begins to overcome you.
—
caleb was awkae the entire night , refused to move cuz he wws scared that u wld get a moment of clarity if he woke u up trykng to move u to a more comfortable spot, hes tired asf cuz he used his evol to lessen the pressure on u
u start waking up so he carefully releases evol so u dont find out he never actually fell asleep
u wake up n ur neck hurts asf , everhthing hurts, u call out his name n caleb contemplated whether or not he shld pretend to stkll be asleep or to answer u. he ends up answering so at his response u start pulling away but he jst tightens his grip instead. u decide to not put up a fight n try your best to reciprocate by slowly wrapping your numb asf arm around his shoulder where ur fingers start to play w the hair on his nape. after letting caleb avoid the elephant in the room for a few minutes, tou decide to lightly pull away. “my legs hurt, caleb.”
“i’m sorry,” he shudders out against your neck.
“that’s not what i meant.”
“sorry.”
you sigh as your entire body goes slack, and caleb knows that you’re reaching your limit, so he finally concedes and loosens his hold on you.
without waiting, you immediately lean back just enough to see his face. caleb doesn’t know how he looks right now, but at the sight of your face and how he feels, he can tell that he looks like utter shit.
your eyes are darting all over his sullen face. his lips are dry and his eyes are bloodshot and half-lidded with pure exhaustion. instantly, both your hands are on his face, tracing every feature possible. instinctively, caleb croons into your hands, his eyes fighting to stay open and alert.
“did you even sleep?”
not wanting to ruin the moment, caleb chooses to gentle shake his head while reassuring you, “i’m fine. really.”
seeing the doubt cloud your eyes, caleb moves to loosely rest his hand around your wrist, squeezing it as if to beg for you to not bring it up again.
exasperated, you sigh before getting ready to stand up. noticing your intentions immediately, caleb rushes to stabilize your stiff body. you’re hell-bent on making your way to the kitchen, and despite being worried about you and wanting to stop you, caleb forces himself to quietly accompany you instead.
the moment you take a step into the kitchen, you spot your cat mug. the one you didn’t get to see be pulled out from the back of the cupboard. the one caleb abandoned on the counter before the fight—if you could even call it that when the two of you were just bawling your eyes out rather than actually arguing.
caleb watches with wide eyes as you robotically go through the motions of filling it up with ice cold water before shoving it against his chest. “here. drink it,” you sternly demand.
you closely monitor caleb’s every move as he chugs the water. once he returns your mug to it’s earlier spot on the counter, you speak up. “about last night,” you pause for a second when you see caleb tense up. “how can i help you?” you’re hoping he can decipher the look of pure concern you’re staring at him with.
a weak smile forced its way on caleb’s face, “you can’t,” he truthfully confesses. “i wasn’t just rambling last night. it’s really something i have to deal with myself, and i shouldn’t have dragged you into it.” you open your mouth to strongly protest his words, but he gives you a knowing look that makes you hold your tongue.
“i thought i could just wait it out, and everything would go back to normal, but i should’ve known better.” he pushes his hair back before taking a step towards you, his long legs practically leaving no space between the two of you. “i promise i’ll work on it. i won’t run away or hide from you anymore, especially not after last night.” in a normal situation, caleb would’ve already been embracing you, a method he utilizes during disagreements to guarantee your persuasion. but, right now, caleb needs to know that you trust him completely without any tricks or manipulation.
“i don’t think my heart or mind can handle almost losing you again.”
“but you didn’t,” you harshly strain out. closing the gap, now standing chest-to-chest, you roughly grasp onto caleb’s shirt. “why won’t you get it? you could never lose me, caleb,” you firmly state, face scrunched up in frustration.
you rest your forehead against his chest, preparing to reveal the secret that you vowed to be buried with. “ever since you moved here,” you shout, the sudden increase in volume startling caleb a bit. “i wake up and go to sleep worrying that you’ll find someone here who fits into your schedule, who you can see everyday, who will understand you more than i do,” you confess. “i think about all the people here who are cooler than me and better than me at everything, and—“ you cut yourself off at the feeling of caleb’s shaking chest and hand on your waist.
you think you’re going insane when you hear a sound resembling his muffled laugh, so you whip your head up to confirm your suspicions. immediately, you’re met with the sight of caleb’s head being thrown back while he’s trying to stop his laughter with his other hand. before you can protest, caleb’s laughter quickly dies down, and he greets your confused gaze with a beaming smile. “sorry,” he breathlessly lets out as he tries to catch his breath. “i just realized how stupid we are,” he ends with a huff.
you’re too stunned to question whats gotten into him and what he’s talking about. a few seconds ago, caleb looked like he just woke up from the dead, but, now, you swear he’s glowing. taking advantage of your frozen state, caleb quickly leans in, gleefully pressing his lips against yours. as if it was a reflex, you predictably melt into him and his kiss, which makes caleb hum into the kiss as he practically begins vibrating with euphoria.
you have no clue how long the kiss goes on for, but you do know that you’re in desperate need of air. when caleb follows you as you lean away for air, you think you’re going to pass out from asphyxiation right then and there. “caleb,” you panically mumble against his relentless lips.
when he honors your plea and pulls away, you’re left heavily panting as you try to rapidly blink away the slight dizziness that tugs at you. caleb, on the other hand, changes his target to your neck instead. you’re starting to believe mc’s taunts about how caleb doesn’t need air to live, he just needs you.
once you’ve got enough oxygen, you question him, “whats gotten into you?” caleb lets out a sigh of relief against your neck before slowly pulling away and straightening up. a teasing smirk makes its way across his face as he explains himself, “nothin’.”he shrugs, attempting to pull you impossibly closer, “i’m just glad my girlfriend is as obsessed with me as i am with her.”
caleb expects you to jokingly retaliate like how you usually do when he teases you, but instead, he’s met with your serene smile. “of course i am, idiot,” you whisper out. caleb’s knees almost buckle when he feels the intensity of your affection that you hold for him, and him only, in your voice. “i’ve been trying to tell you that for years,” you murmur, leaning up to give caleb a well-deserved peck.
caleb feels like the world’s biggest fool, but he doesn’t exactly mind being the owner of said title if it means getting to be the only one to witness this side of you.
noticing that caleb has finally gotten the idea through his thick skull, and how his adrenaline is nearly depleted, you reach up to begin tracing his under-eyes. “how about we get some sleep, yeah?” you urge, but all you get in response is silence as caleb continues to memorize how breathtaking you look/relish in how lucky he is. “c’mon,” you try again, “i’ve missed sleeping in your bed.”
at your admission, caleb breaks out of his daze, laughing. no longer having to walk on eggshells, he securely interlaces your hands while leading you to his room. “just my bed?” caleb mockingly teases you. at the same time, he tugs at your connected hands to pull you into his side. laughing at his exaggerated puppy eyes, you decide to play along. “yeah, the owner’s too clingy in the mornings,” you pretend to sigh out of annoyance just as the two of you arrive at, what you presume to be, caleb’s room.
however, before you can take a step inside, you’re suddenly being lifted onto caleb’s shoulder. while you squeal at the sight of the world being turned upside down, caleb takes the bait you laid out for him. “really? i’m too clingy,” he drawls out, not struggling one bit when you start flailing around.
once caleb reaches his bed, he carefully tosses you onto it before quickly making his way on top of you, essentially trapping you. “hey,” you yell out, pushing your hands against his shoulders to maintain distance in retaliation. caleb ignores your pushback and instead focuses on proving you wrong. “who was the one always complaining whenever i had to get out of bed?” your arms go slack and your face flushes instantly at the mention of your own clingy moments.
caleb reels at your reaction, only prompting him to continue pushing your buttons even further. “what was it that you would say,” he pretends to think, as if he doesn’t have it completely memorized. you rush to hide your face behind your hands out of embarrassment, but it does nothing to stop caleb. “oh, i remember now,” he leans down before delivering the final blow. “caaaleeeeb,” he pitches his voice higher in an attempt to mimic yours. “come back to beeeeed,” he drags out his words, his lips curling up in satisfaction when he spots your mortified expression.
“or,” caleb starts up again, but he’s met with your hands covering up his mouth. “okay, okay! i get it! no more, please,” you beg. caleb’s eyes crinkle up in delight as he presses kisses against your palm. leaning back a bit, he makes a little space to allow him to taunt you, “i don’t know, you could beg a little bit more than that.”
wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down to attack his face with kisses. “i’m sooooooorry,” you mutter out in the midst of your affection. despite caleb seemingly have given up on teasing you any further, you continue on with your kisses.
the sound of his content and soft laughter is what puts an end to your display of endearment. your arms are still encased around his neck when he maneuvers his around your waist as he goes completely lax on top of half your body.
a silence fills the room, occasionally disturbed by the sound of yours and caleb’s synchronized breathing.
you can feel sleep starting to come onto you, so you know for sure that caleb’s on the edge of passing out. “g’night, caleb,” you murmur, carefully moving the arm that he’s not resting his head on to brush his bangs out of his face. “i love you so, so, so much, more than you think,” you quietly confess, your lips pressed against his forehead. you don’t get a response, but you don’t mind.
—
bonus: caleb being at gideon’s beck and call
caleb is slouched against the couch armrest, his legs sprawled open across the rest of the couch as he watches some documentary about planes and jets. you’re resting between his legs, your head, stomach, and hands pressed up against caleb’s chest with his arm wrapped around you. mc has claimed the loveseat and is doomscrolling, one handed, on her phone as she rests her head in her other hand.
you’re so close to falling asleep, and caleb’s hand tracing your spine is only encouraging you to pass out. however, as soon as your eyes close, gideon loudly groans, startling you awake. the jolt makes caleb rip his gaze from the tv to look at you stirring, his hand now motionless on your back.
annoyed that gideon disturbed your sleep, caleb prissily yields to gideon’s obnoxious way of getting his attention. “what’s your problem?” he asks without even glancing at gideon, his attention still on you as you move out of his embrace.
“are you kidding me,” gideon gawks at caleb, who is still actively ignoring him and is now sitting up with you. “you’re the problem! i won the bet, but you won’t do anything i tell you to,” he complains.
at the mention of the bet, mc perks up and drops her phone in favor of playing devil’s advocate. “y’know what, gideon’s right,” she stares down caleb, but he’s still ignoring the ongoing conversation.
you’re too drowsy to participate or even listen to what’s going on around you. the only thing you do take notice of is caleb’s hands soothingly rubbing up and down your arms. however, you’re forcibly included in the conversation when mc shouts out your name. you slowly turn your head to face mc as she teams up with gideon with the sole mission of making caleb suffer. ignoring caleb’s death stare, mc continues to tattle on him to you. “your boyfriend isn’t keeping his promise of being gideon’s servant for a day. after all the work he, we, put in to fix your relationship, don’t you think caleb needs to help you repay us?” mc rambles on, praying that you’re too out of it to realize how flawed her reasoning is.
to mc’s and gideon’s luck, it plays out exactly how they wanted it to. caleb scoffs at the ridiculous situation, and he’s about to shut down the entire thing when you turn back to dazedly blink at him.
“‘leb,” you groggily slur. “do whatever they want, please,” you softly plead, to caleb’s despair.
before caleb can say anything, the duo jumps at the opening. “c’mon, ‘leb, listen to your girlfriend,” mc teases him. “yeah, be a good puppy, won’cha?” gideon’s smirk grows at the sight of caleb’s eye twitching in irritation.
all you can think of is caleb’s soft and inviting bed waiting for you, so you unintentionally sign away your beloved boyfriend to his demise just to be able to sleep quicker. “please, do it for me?” you weakly lift your hand to run your fingers through his hair.
caleb has never despised the hold you have on him until now. despite his entire being against it, caleb begrudgingly agrees with a tense nod. at the sound of gideon and mc celebrating, caleb is fuming and already plotting his way out when you move off the couch.
“thank you,” you lean down to press a grateful kiss against caleb’s waiting lips, but you miss and land near the corner of his mouth instead. caleb doesn’t think his day could get any worse. “‘m goin’ head to sleep, love you,” you mumble as you push away from him and begin heading towards his room without letting him respond.
the moment the door to his room closes, gideon instantly assigns caleb a task. “wow, i’m feeling thirsty after all that. a homemade smoothie does sound pretty nice. could you get on making one?” he instigates.
to gideon’s and mc’s surprise, caleb doesn’t put up a fight as he gets up and heads to the kitchen. caleb’s willingness is what terrifies them.
despite the never-ending sounds coming from the kitchen, the living room is completely quiet. when it’s suddenly silent, the duo tenses as caleb walks out holding a glass of gideon’s smoothie. caleb is smiling, but there’s something off about it, which only makes gideon second-guess all his decisions leading up to now.
“uh,” gideon nervously chuckles, “what’s in it?”
caleb lists off all the ingredients and so far it sounds normal so gideon’s confidence slowly returns/doubt slowly fades. mc holds her breath as gideon takes a sip, and immediately, his face screws up in disgust.
“oh, i forgot. i added some handfuls of ginger last minute ‘cause it’s good for your health. the blender also died midway, so there’s might be some texture too,” caleb reveals with a chillingly calm voice.
despite presenting it as a coincidence, they both know that caleb had planned out every incident. mc tries to hold in her laugh at the sight of gideon suffering, but she ultimately fails when a loud ‘pft’ escapes her mouth. after quickly glancing at mc, gideon sets down the smoothie and pushes it away from him as far as possible.
“okay, uh. y’know what, the laundry needs to be done,” gideon carefully brings up.
caleb’s smile grows even bigger, as if that was exactly what he was waiting for. however, before gideon can take back his words, caleb reassures him, “i’ll have it done.” gideon wearingly watches as caleb disappears down the hall.
mc laughs as soon as caleb’s out of sight while gideon groans and begins regretting everything. “i’m gonna go brush my teeth to get this taste out my mouth,” he sighs as he dejectedly pushes himself off the couch.
as gideon makes his way to the bathroom, he walks by caleb suspiciously holding a tub he doesn’t usually see when he does laundry. skidding to a stop, gideon cautiously approaches caleb and checks in on what he’s doing. “hey, what’re you holding right now?”
caleb’s face lights up as he shows gideon the label, “it’s bleach.” gideon pales at the reveal. “i swear i’ve seen this same stain on your clothes a few years ago, so—“
without letting caleb finish his sentence, gideon snatches the tub of bleach out of his hands. “i’m sorry, you can stop now,” gideon practically begs caleb.
a genuine grin makes it’s way onto caleb’s face. “are you sure? i mean you were suuuupeer adamant about this,” he taunts gideon as he cocks his head to the side.
“no!” gideon hurriedly shouts. “i mean yeah, i’m sure,” he takes a sharp deep breath in. “just go spend time with your girlfriend. she’s leaving soon, and you two just made up,” gideon rushes out an excuse to get caleb far away from his clothes or anything of his.
“wow, thanks dude,” caleb starts heading towards his room. “i’ll remember this,” he says in a grateful tone, but gideon somehow ends up feeling threatened instead.
you’re woken up by the feeling of the bed dipping down. “caleb?” you instinctively call out without bothering to open your eyes.
“hi, honey,” caleb coos as he settles down behind you. “sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up,” he whispers while tugging you back into him.
you hum out in content as soon as you feel caleb’s warmth, wasting no time to turn around in his arms so you can shove your face into his neck. “that was quick. i thought gideon was gonna wear you thin,” you mumble against his neck.
smiling into your hair as he reminisces his schemes, caleb tightens his hold and agrees with you. “yeah, me too, but then he said he wanted me to spend time with you before you leave,” he conveniently leaves out certain details as he recalls the interaction.
despite trying your best to reply to caleb, all that comes out of your mouth is an incomprehensible murmur of pure gibberish. if you weren’t practically passed out, you would’ve been squirming in embarrassment. however, you force yourself to stay awake when you barely catch caleb whispering.
“goodnight,” he presses a kiss on the crown of your head. “i love you so much that it feels wrong to just call it that.”
“me too,” you strain out, desperately fighting against your drowsiness to make sure your words are coherent. caleb wasn’t expecting you to be awake, and the brief second when he tenses up at the sound of your voice exposes him. “i love you so much that it hurts imagining a world without you,” you’re relieved that you just barely finished your words before you’re finally asleep.
admittedly, caleb wasn’t tired at all when he first climbed into bed with you, but he can’t help drifting off. not when his heart and mind is no longer drowning in self-doubt and deprivation. especially when you’re by his side, clinging onto him just as much as he clings onto you.
ꨄ synopsis: y/n has a dilemma; her boyfriend is not as affectionate as he was now they are official. can y/n overcome this and make her favourite man melt for her??
Y/N had a dilemma.
Her boyfriend, Caleb, had been acting... distant. Not emotionally — he still walked her home, still teased her whenever the opportunity presented itself, still made sure she ate whenever she got too caught up in whatever she was doing.
But physically? That was a different story.
--
One lazy afternoon, the two of them were sprawled across the couch, mindlessly watching some random show neither of them was really paying attention to. All Y/N wanted to do was cuddle up against her boyfriend's ridiculously muscular arms. It wasn't anything new — they'd done it countless times growing up.
So, without a second thought, she scooted closer until their shoulders touched. Wrapping both arms around one of Caleb's, she rested her head against his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of apple and cinnamon that always seemed to linger on him.
It felt like home.
Then Caleb froze. Not dramatically — just enough for her to notice. His entire body tensed beneath her, his arm stiffening for a split second before he forced himself to relax.
Y/N frowned. "Caleb... you good?"
His violet eyes met hers for a brief moment before darting back to the television. "All good, pips." His voice came out a little strained, and the tips of his ears had turned a suspicious shade of pink. He quickly looked away.
Y/N narrowed her eyes. He's definitely not good.
But instead of pushing him, she simply hummed and rested her head back on his shoulder, deciding to let it go.
The second incident happened while they were grocery shopping. The supermarket was packed — people wandered aimlessly through the aisles, carts bumped into each other every few seconds, and Y/N was already regretting agreeing to come during the weekend rush.
Without thinking, she reached for Caleb's hand. The moment their fingers intertwined, he tensed. Again. Not enough to pull away. Not enough for anyone else to notice. But enough for her.
Her smile faltered. Why does he keep doing that? Had he always reacted like this?
No. He hadn't.
By the time they reached the checkout, the question had replayed in her mind at least a hundred times. Did he not like it when she touched him anymore?
By the time they got home, Y/N had worked herself into a proper sulk. She wasn't asking for grand romantic gestures. She didn't need flowers, or expensive dates. She just wanted to hold his hand. To lean against him. To be wrapped up in one of his ridiculously warm hugs until she couldn't breathe.
Was that really too much to ask?
She sighed dramatically, flopping face-first onto the bed. Fine. If Caleb wasn't going to initiate anything... she would.
Operation: Cuddle The Colonel shall now commence.
--
Step One — Casual Hand Holding
The next morning, Y/N woke up with a mission: Operation Hold His Hand.
That can't be hard, right?
Wrong.
Target spotted
Her very important mission was immediately interrupted by the sight of a certain someone. That certain someone being Caleb: a 6'2" goliath of a man standing in her kitchen, wearing nothing but a slutty little apron tied around his waist. An apron that had absolutely no business looking that good.
It did nothing to hide his broad shoulders or the way his muscles moved every time he reached for something. Every small movement was enough to completely distract her from the very important task she had woken up for.
Her eyes followed him without permission — the way his arms flexed as he grabbed something from the counter, the way his shoulders moved, the way he looked completely unaware of the effect he was having on her.
What a man, she thought, completely forgetting everything else. Her hands even started reaching out slightly, almost like she was about to touch him, before her brain finally caught up.
No. Focus. Focus, Y/N. You have a mission. You can admire your ridiculously sexy boyfriend another day.
Unfortunately, her thoughts were interrupted when Caleb suddenly turned around. And caught her.
His deep purple eyes met hers, and that familiar boyish grin immediately appeared on his face.
"Enjoying the view, pips?"
Y/N froze. "Absolutely." A second passed. "—No. I mean, absolutely not."
The panic was immediate. Her eyes darted around the kitchen, suddenly finding the cabinets, the fridge, and even the random object on the counter far more interesting than the man standing right in front of her. Anything except Caleb.
Caleb's grin widened. He clearly knew exactly what he had caught her doing. But instead of teasing her immediately, he slowly walked towards her. Step by step.
Y/N's breath caught. Wait. What is he doing? Her heart started beating faster as he got closer. Was he finally going to—
He walked straight past her.
Oh.
Y/N blinked, then slowly turned around. Caleb opened the bathroom door. "Be right back, pips." And then he disappeared inside.
...
Y/N stood there in complete silence. Her grand plan. Her carefully thought-out mission. Ruined because she got distracted by her own boyfriend.
"Great start," she muttered to herself.
Operation Cuddle the Colonel was off to a terrible beginning.
--
Step Two — Operation Cuddle the Colonel Continues
Y/N was determined. Yesterday had been a minor setback — a very embarrassing setback — but she refused to admit defeat. Caleb was her boyfriend. Which meant she was allowed to cuddle him, annoy him, steal his attention, and most importantly, get those hugs she had been missing.
So when she heard the front door open that evening, she knew her opportunity had arrived.
"Caleb's home," she whispered to herself. Mission activated.
She turned towards the hallway, ready to greet him. Then she saw him — and immediately forgot every single thought in her head.
Caleb stepped inside, still dressed in his Colonel uniform from work. The uniform alone was unfair. The way he carried himself. The confidence. The way he casually removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair as he walked inside.
Y/N's brain completely malfunctioned.
Focus. Focus, Y/N. You have a mission. You are not supposed to stand here admiring your boyfriend like you've never seen him before.
Unfortunately, she had seen him before. That was the problem. And somehow, he only seemed to get more attractive.
Caleb noticed her staring almost immediately. A small smirk appeared on his face. "Enjoying the view, pips?"
Y/N snapped out of it. "No." A pause. "...I mean, not that I was looking."
Caleb raised an eyebrow. "You weren't looking?"
"No."
"You've been staring at me since I walked in."
"I was observing."
"Observing?"
"Yes."
"Me?"
"...Yes."
A laugh escaped him — that annoying, warm laugh she loved. "You're terrible at lying."
Y/N crossed her arms. "You're annoying."
"And yet you were staring."
She opened her mouth. Nothing came out. Because unfortunately, he was right.
Caleb walked past her, still smiling. "Missed you too, pips."
And that was the problem. He said things like that. He acted like he loved her. Because he did. So why did he still feel so far away?
Later that night, they sat together on the couch. Y/N waited — for him to pull her closer, to wrap an arm around her, to do something. Anything.
But Caleb simply sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched, but not close enough.
It shouldn't have bothered her. But it did. Because before they were together, Caleb never hesitated. He would steal her snacks. Lean against her. Grab her hand without thinking.
Now every touch felt like he was carefully considering it first. And Y/N didn't understand why.
--
step 3 - the confrontation
Y/N finally couldn't take it anymore. They were sitting together quietly when she spoke.
"Caleb."
He looked over. "Hm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
His expression softened immediately. "Of course."
She hesitated. "Do you regret this?"
His eyebrows furrowed. "Regret what?"
She looked down. "Us."
The teasing disappeared completely.
"Y/N..."
"I know you care about me." Her voice was quiet. "That's what makes this confusing." Caleb stayed silent. "You still tease me. You still look after me. You still remember every little thing." She looked at him. "But whenever I try to get close to you..." She swallowed. "You pull back."
For once, Caleb had no quick response. No joke. No teasing comment. Just silence.
And then he sighed. "That's not because I don't want you."
Y/N looked up. "Then why?"
Caleb looked away, almost embarrassed. "Because I do." She blinked. "What?"
A small, nervous laugh escaped him. "You don't understand, do you?" He looked back at her. "Before this... you were just Y/N. The person I've known forever. The person I could annoy whenever I wanted." A small smile appeared. "The person who would steal my food and then pretend she didn't."
Y/N smiled slightly.
"But then suddenly..." His expression softened. "You're my girlfriend." The words came out quietly. "Do you know how unreal that feels? I spent so long imagining what it would be like. Being able to hold your hand because I wanted to. Hugging you because I could. Kissing you because you were mine to love." His ears turned slightly pink. "But when it actually happened..." He shook his head. "It felt like I was going to wake up."
Y/N's heart softened. "Caleb..."
"I didn't want to ruin it." His voice became quieter. "I didn't want to assume I could do whatever I wanted just because we're together now. I didn't want you to feel like things had changed too fast." A small smile tugged at his lips. "So instead, I overthought everything."
Y/N stared at him. "You idiot."
Caleb raised an eyebrow. "That's a little harsh."
"You made me think you didn't want me."
His expression immediately changed. "I would never." The seriousness in his voice made her pause. "I've wanted you for longer than you know."
The room went quiet. And finally, Y/N understood.
Caleb wasn't holding back because he didn't want her. He was holding back because he wanted her so much that he was scared.
She reached for his hand. This time, Caleb didn't hesitate. His fingers intertwined with hers. And he squeezed.
Y/N looked at him for a long moment. "So all this time," she said slowly, "you've been holding back because you wanted too much."
Caleb huffed a quiet laugh, ears still pink. "When you say it like that, it sounds stupid."
"It is a little stupid."
"Thanks."
"But it's also—" She hesitated, then decided she didn't care anymore. "Kind of sweet. In an idiotic way."
"An idiotic way."
"Mm-hm."
He was still holding her hand. He hadn't let go once. Y/N tilted her head, testing him. "So if I asked you to kiss me right now, you'd overthink that too?"
Something shifted in his expression — the teasing dropped away, just for a second, replaced by something hungrier that he clearly hadn't meant to let show. He caught himself and covered it with a smirk instead.
"Careful, pips. You don't want to open that door."
"Prove it."
The words left her before she could stop them.
Caleb went still. "Prove it," he repeated, like he wanted to make sure he'd heard her right.
"You heard me."
For a second, neither of them moved. Then his free hand came up, slow and deliberate, brushing a strand of hair from her face — a small thing, but his fingers lingered against her cheek longer than they needed to.
"You have no idea," he murmured, voice lower than she'd ever heard it, "how long I've thought about this. Not just kissing you. All of it — holding you like I mean it, keeping you so close you forget where I end and you begin. I've thought about it more than I'd ever admit out loud."
Y/N's breath caught. "Then stop thinking."
That was all it took.
Caleb closed the distance and kissed her — not hesitant, not careful, but like every ounce of restraint he'd been holding onto finally gave out at once. One hand slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him, the other cupping her jaw like she was something he'd been afraid to break and had just decided he didn't care anymore. Y/N melted into it, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, and for once neither of them was thinking about missions or overthinking or pulling back.
When they finally broke apart, both of them a little breathless, Caleb didn't pull away. His forehead stayed against hers, his hand still resting low on her waist like he had no intention of letting go now that he'd finally allowed himself this.
"So much for not assuming I could do whatever I wanted," he murmured.
"I'm not complaining," Y/N breathed.
Caleb pulled back just far enough to look at her, something darker and steadier behind his eyes now that the restraint was finally gone.
"No?" His voice had dropped lower, quieter — the kind of quiet that made her pulse jump. "Because I meant everything I said. And pips…" He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world now. "I don't think I want to stop at kissing you."
Y/N's breath caught. She didn't trust her own voice, so she just tightened her grip on the front of his shirt instead — an answer he understood perfectly.
a/n: my first fic i dont know if this is any good i just love Caleb. Might make a part 2, and it might be smut :) this isnt really proofread, but hopefully it makes sense lol. But more to come i want to write all the boys lol including valko #bringbackvalko
caleb drabble inspired by this video... i see him everywhere its a disease
"caleb," you call from your cozy position on the couch, lazily scanning the apartment around you to see if he's nearby enough to hear you. "caaleb, caleeeeeb! caleb, c'mere, caleb!!"
it doesn't take more than a few seconds for you to hear his soft, socked footsteps approaching you from his office. your gaze rises with a big smile as you watch him stroll towards you with a slightly amused expression on his face. so big and intimidating, yet only soft and protective in your presence. he'll always hear when you call, and he'll always come to your side. "what's up, 'squeaks?"
you raise your arms with a little pout as he approaches, though it fades into a giggle as he looks down at you. "i missed youu~" you whine, tugging at the hem of his shirt. "i'm so comfy, but it's not the same when you're not here,"
he hums, cupping your cheek in his palm and watching you nuzzle into his touch. "for a second i thought you were in some kind of trouble, you know" he teases, running his thumb over your soft skin.
"it's an emergency," you sniffle, sitting up to grip his forearm and try to pull him down with you. "i really want cuddles, cay, please, please,,"
"alright, alright." caleb chuckles, shaking his head, reaching down, effortlessly lifting you in a princess carry, then laying down beneath you and settling you back on top of him. "better now?"
you hum happily, nestling between the bulk of his body and the back of the couch as he wraps his arms around your form. one pulls you close, keeping you secured to his torso, and the other slowly slides beneath your shirt to trace patterns against your skin. he runs warm, and your apartment is a bit chilly, so you're happy to bury your face in his chest and wrap an arm around him, too.
"love you," you murmur, pressing a kiss to his collarbone.
caleb responds in kind, his soft lips settling against your forehead for a long while. he remembered to wear the chapstick you got him. "love you too."
you yawn, all of the tension left in your body melting away as you lose yourself in the rhythm of his heartbeat, the heat of his body against your own, the gentle movements of his fingers on your back.
"wanna stay like this all day,"
caleb's laugh rumbles against your cheek as he starts to run his nails up and down your skin, gently scratching the spots that turn your thoughts into static. he has them all memorized. it's hard to keep yourself from drooling, but he enjoys watching you let go, no matter how embarrassed you feel afterwards. collecting versions of yourself that belong to him, that no one else will ever see.
"we can do that," his breath brushes your forehead as he speaks. he's watching you again, but you never mind. "just promise me you'll eat dinner when it's time. we can go right back to cuddling after, yeah?"
you nod, your eyes drooping closed as you surrender to the tranquility and safety of this moment. your favorite person is all yours for as long as you want. whether you talk about anything and everything or just enjoy the quiet, you'll be content, and you know he will be too.
Description: What sexual activities are the LIs particularly good at?
WC: 0.7k
THEY’RE A L L GREAT AT EVERYTHING OKAY!!! But...hypothetically speaking...what are they the best at? Enjoy, mwah!
- Blueberry જ⁀➴ ৻ꪆ (Masterlist)
Xavier EATING PUSSY OBVIOUSLY, lmao. Like bro goes absolutely nuts—it’s his favorite activity, so DUH. Needs you to sit on his face 24/7. Can do it any which way: fast, slow, teasing, flicking, grinding his tongue, LIKE WHATEVER you require he’s absolutely amazing at it. So locked in all the time. While I do think he loves eye contact, I also really think he’s getting lost in the sauce eyes closed gROANINg moaning gripping your thighs tight and hoping you crush him to death like a watermelon. Wants. To. Be. Suffocated.
Rafayel finGERING HELLO Mr. Artist knows how to curl his fingers is all I’m saying. Loves to tell you you’re the prettiest while he’s doing it. Is a fan of going slow at first, (LOVES TO WATCH YOU PANT AND SQUIRM) before he’s just hovering over you intentionally not kissing you but keeping his face RIGHT THERE to watch every expression and listen to every whimper up close and personal while he’s finGER BLASTING YOU into oblivion until you squirt. (Middle and ringer finger style yk 🥴) (Kinda bratty when you cum…hot.)
Zayne ANY stimulation with his fingers but OOF rubbing your clit/nips, so fucking a-tier at it it’s i n s a n e—steady-handed doctor, what did you expect? Laying beside you or inside you LMAO his ability to rub your clit is quite literally off the damn charts. (Also in relation to hands…he’s the GOAT of spanking okay don’t play with me. Perfectly understands the balance between soft traces with his fingers then HARD fucking spanks MY GOD!!!) Like idk this man just knows the f!orgasm like the back of his hand (pun intended) and can extract it with medical precision. (Can 1000% make you cum w/ just nip!stim.) My angsty ice prince might be “““cold”””” but he’s AMAZING at warming you up iykwim. LIKE 😩😩😩 (He’s not touching you with his dick until you’re SOAKED.)
Sylus making you acTUALLy cum with just his dick. The absolute best at it it’s INSANE. Can work those mf hips just right, and will give your belly a lil extra weight with his hand while he’s doing it HEHE. Yeah so you know the Coital Alignment Technique??? THAT THAT THAT he’s the GOD OF THAT. (It’s literally just missionary but m! is more flat/horizontal DIRECTLY above you so his pelvis can rest against your clit while he thrusts—supposed to be slow and intimate. Boss Man DEMOLISHES THIS MOVE.) (SUCH A VOCAL PRAISER TOO!!! Loves his dearest wife and always wants to tell you just how good you are for him.) (...On the praiser element, great at swEET dirty talk/whispering crazy ass shit straight into your ear while he’s on top of yOU OH MY...)
Caleb hEAR me out…kissing (if we ignore his og kissing sounds we’ll all be fine and make it through okay I promise LOL) BRO has been waiting his whole life to kiss you and he’s gONNA DO IT RIGHT EVERY TIME—very passionate about it, always. But sometimes in a really sloppy HOT way. YUMMY. Sir get over here and let me suck on your tongue thANK YOU. Another thing…an absolute god of GROPING like you name it tits, ass, thighs, he’S GRABBING IT AND IT’S DIVINE. VERY good at JUST touching/massaging/squeezing/groping every part of you. (Aka every aspect of making out which whoops means he’s also great at making out with your pUS...) (Oh my god last thing so GOOD at sucking on your tits gOES NUTTTSSS over it, eye contact/practically humping you during, so much groping oMF 😩 I also think Fishie is great at this…) Boy is just trying to get his mouth and hands everywhere honestly. (Zayne is still the best kisser leave me alone okay, hiS AUDIO IS BONKERS!!!)
Valko poSITIONS Mr. Big Ass MF SEXY GAAAHHHHH can put you in whatever position you demand and do it easily too. Can pornstar style pick you up and just fUCK THE SHIT OUT OF YOU up in the air with such minimal effort on his part it’s CRAZY. His strength is an added benefit during sex that is SEEN AND FELT OKAY. Can Full Nelson you like a compLETE menace oh my god send me there rn. Also his dick is just massive so yk there’s that too. Can easily and always make you cum with it, him and Sylus are similar here. When riding him, he fucks up into you like an absolute beast, you might as well be weightless. Also just grabbing your thighs and ass and doing all the work for you lifting you up and down on his dick like you’re a FLESHLIGHT BUST!!!!!
(Doing laundry & dishes with Xavier; Sylus picking you up after work and doing your skincare routine; grocery shopping with Caleb and cooking together; gardening with Rafayel; Zayne leaving sticky notes around his house for you when he's out, and carrying you to bed when you fall asleep on the couch.)
xavier, sylus, caleb, rafayel, zayne ♡ gn!reader
warnings: established relationship, not proofread, petnames ("sweetie" from sylus, "pips" from caleb), reader is mc but gender neutral, nonsexual intimacy (kissing, sleeping in the same bed)
notes: IM ON A GENERATIONAL WRITING RUN RN!!! Also sorry if there are tons of grammatical errors i wrote this maniacally with nothing but a keyboard and a dream
Doing laundry together, washing dishes—and it wouldn't be Xavier if there weren't a good nap thrown in the mix, of course!
"Xavier," you mumble, drowsy. "Xavier, I can't get up."
With his entire body splayed on top of yours, Xavier is, pun intended, out like a light. His mouth hangs slightly agape, the side of his face pressed against your collarbone.
"Xavier," you say again, trying to nudge him. "Xavier."
His eyes flutter open, half-lidded, as he stares at you with those soft-blue eyes of his, the glossiness of sleep layering his irises like glass. Through the panes, you can make out the tenderness of his pupils, dilating ever-so slightly, your figure carving a spot into its refracting light.
He closes his eyes again. You sigh.
"Xavier."
Nothing.
"Xavier."
Nothing.
"Jeremiah."
He's up.
Xavier's brows furrow, the ends of his lips curled downwards as he stares at you from above, eyes blown wide, arms encaging your figure beneath his, head tilted slightly to the side as he blinks once, twice, thrice.
"Why do you know that name?" he asks, bottom lip slowly jutting out the longer you take to respond.
"We met him at Philo."
"Do you know the names of all the men you meet?"
You laugh. Xavier's expression remains unmoved, his question entirely serious.
"That'd be impossible."
"... So, you've met a lot of other men."
"Yeah," you reply, "that's usually how it goes."
He slumps against your figure, relapsing, as his face digs into the curve of your neck and shoulder, head tilted to the side while trailing kisses around your skin, immovable when you laugh from the ticklish feeling.
"Xavier," you manage to say in between giggly breaths, "Xavier, I was joking."
From his spot, just a little below you, by the base of your neck, he looks up, head tilting, blinking owlishly in that feigned-ignorance-and-pathetic way of his.
"Were you?"
"Of course I was!"
He doesn't budge from his spot as your weighted blanket. Face returning to the crook of your shoulder once more, he just wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you even closer to him, limbs a messy tangle.
"Xavier,"—you prod him, but to no avail—"Xavier, we have to get up. Today is laundry day, remember?"
"Five more minutes," he mumbles, pressing you so close he might as well coalesce into you, "just five..."
He did not, in fact, take "just five minutes."
It was three hours.
But Xavier wastes no time when it comes to taking naps together—upon gathering all of your clothes, he's quick to suggest using the machine's washing time as an opportunity to get more sleep. You dismiss his idea, stating that you have dishes from last night's dinner to wash.
He gives you that look of his—soggy and all—before suggesting, again, to use the time after washing dishes, while the machine is working, to get some more sleep in. You agree. He beams.
Xavier's wardrobe has a running theme of pale colors. Sorting them is relatively easy, with most of his clothes in one pile, your occasional shirt sprinkled in, while the darker colors remain significantly smaller in number.
"What scent should we do this time?" Xavier asks, hand on his chin, surveying your detergent options with the meticulousness of a laundry master. You laugh, and tell him that they all smell good in the end. He nods, but he chooses the scent you've mentioned liking on mutliple occasions, knowing it's your favorite.
(Xavier also likes this scent—he's gotten multiple compliments for it, and once, while out shopping with you, an older woman noted how the two of you had the same fragrance to your clothes. Xavier nodded fervently at the observation, pleased.)
While the laundry is running, the two of you return to last night's dishes. After Xavier scrubs at the plates, you place them into the dishwasher, which, in reality, is just a glorified drying rack.
In between the clatter of glassware and the running of water is your voice, existing with Xavier for longer than it does in the air, your words excited as you recall an incident that happened recently at work.
When you smile, the rhythmic motion comes to a halt, and Xavier's attention parts from the plates to look at you, your figure etched into his pupils, tracing through to his soul, imprinted, fitting the silhouette from centuries ago.
"Is something wrong, Xavier?" you ask, noticing his gaze. He shakes his head.
He just blinks, once, twice, thrice; you really don't know, it seems. The light swept over your face, setting your skin ablaze, its brilliance irrevocable—How beautiful, is all he thinks. How beautiful and lovely and sublime.
(For a moment, he half-considered envying the light, its warmth kissing your skin so simply. Xavier has too many enemies, it seems. Lumiere, sunlight, Jeremiah...)
Later, your dryer sings its cycle completion with a jolly tune. While fetching your clothes, you notice a striking abundance of fluff stuffed throughout the creases of your clothes, your nose wrinkling with confusion as you furrow your brows.
"What's all this?" you mutter, piling all your things into the laundry basket, bundles of cotton falling forth from the dryer.
"Oh," Xavier remarks, hovering beside your shoulder, staring down at the mess. "Bunbun exploded."
"What?!"
Just as he predicted, Bunbun's remains fall from the dryer, its stitching undone as half of its cotton stuffing has been scattered throughout your clothes. Xavier reaches for its floppy face, stretching the malnourished plushie, satisfied.
"Well," you say, picking up the bits of fluff. "Let's feed it."
The two of you hunch over the laundry basket, sifting through your clothes to find each individual piece of fluff, stuffing it back into Bunbun. Now fully nourished, Bunbun stands proud (and round), its unstitched back held shut by Xavier's hand and a dream.
"I don't remember ever putting Bunbun in the laundry," you mutter, folding your clothes. "I thought its washing instructions said not to put it in the dryer..."
"Is that what it said?" Xavier remarks. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, noticing that his gaze is directed towards Bunbun's figure, menacing.
"Did you just try to sabatoge Bunbun, Xavier?"
He turns to you, blinking, his bottom lip jutted out slightly as he tilts his head.
"... No."
"You rejoiced when it exploded!"
"What if," he starts, the slightest hints of a smile tugging at the ends of his lips, his innocent expression shifting to reveal the hints of mischief, "what if I said it was a joke?"
"Are you still hung up on what I said this morning?" you reply, disbelieving.
His eyes don't meet yours.
Sylus picking you up after a long day of work, doing your skincare routine, removing your jewelry before going to sleep.
Rain is a cruel mistress; it seems that it only chooses to appear whenever you're working overtime.
Bracing yourself to weather the storm, you raise one measly hand up to cover the top of your head, the other shielding your bag under the fabric of your coat as you step outside the office, wincing slightly, a bright light reflecting the droplets of rain.
It's a car. A familiar one, at that. Squinting, you can make out the shape, its color, black, and a figure sitting in the driver's seat, the door swinging open, approaching you with such leisure, you half-wonder if it's only raining over you.
You look at Sylus, whose gaze has long-acquainted itself with yours. He tilts his head to the side, a smile—which more resembles a smirk—tugging at his lips, while he unravels the umbrella in his hand.
"You didn't think to use it for yourself?" you ask, the rain no longer meeting your skin, your figure now completely dry whilst Sylus's pearly hair drips with rainwater.
"Not at all," he replies, bemused.
"How'd you know I just finished my work?" you then query, Sylus's free hand reaching to open the passenger door, his head lowering slightly as he leans over your figure, putting your seatbelt on, rain still pelting at his skin and clothes.
"And if I told you it was my intuition?" he says, leaving no room for your response as he closes your door, finding his spot in the driver's seat soon after.
"I wouldn't believe it," you remark.
"Then, you can assume it was something else."
You deadpan. "Isn't that how it works?"
He spares you a smile, one hand on the top of the steering wheel, index finger tapping at the material while eyeing you from across the distance of a center console, its actuality minimal despite the way it feels as though a universe separates you from him.
Amidst the rain, the aux plays a slow, melodic tune.
"Well, it was intuition," he says, other hand reaching at your thigh, thumbing at your skin, his palm warm. "And, in part, a little birdie."
"And my location," you add.
"And your location," he reaffirms, smiling still, its shape less like a smirk and more akin to the look only a man so devotedly in love could ever wear, his eyes crinkling slightly, his expression content, malleable under your gaze.
The two of you return to the N109 Zone, the rain stopping at the edges of the city.
Sylus leaves the car first, circling it to open your door, hand outstretched as he takes your bag.
"I have to do it all over again tomorrow," you mumble, referring to your work, "this endless cycle of abuse..."
Sylus chuckles, free hand reaching for yours, fingers entwined, curling slightly as he squeezes your hand.
"How about you work for me? Luke and Kieran could use a court jester."
"Me?! A court jester?"
He laughs again, thumb now smoothing over the back of your hand, so familiar with its shape.
"Perhaps another role can be negotiated."
"It'd be better if there were no role at all!"
After eating dinner, you half-consider just retiring to bed without removing your sunscreen or jewelry—but Sylus, reading your mind, rests his hands on your shoulders, guiding you to the bathroom without consideration for protest.
"I'm so tired," you say, voice already marred with the beginnings of sleep, your eyes struggling to stay awake. "Let me sleep while greasy..."
"No can do, sweetie," Sylus replies, sitting you down in front of the mirror, washing his hands with soap before removing your sunscreen with some toning pads. "Just bear it for a little, then you can sleep all you want."
His words are succeeded by a quick kiss to your temple.
You've taught him that products should be applied, and removed, to or from the face via circular motions. Sylus, the ever-excellent student, applies what he's learned meticulously, toning pads featherlight against your skin.
The hilt of a gun is so familiar to his callused hands, and the stains of blood which he's grown so used to washing off—but, even better than a comfortable weapon, or the curl of a fist cushioned within a boxing glove, is the feeling of your face within the palm of his hands, the residue of sunscreen staining his fingers, the ease of your brows as he washes away your long-winded day.
Then, his hand reaches for the back of your neck, unclasping your necklace with ease. Another kiss. He leans forward, removing the locks of your earrings, taking the hook gently through the piercing, tucking it neatly into your vanity's—which occupies nearly half of his bathroom—compartment
A third kiss to your well-loved face. He must sneak these in before he applies your skincare, as you've completely banned him from touching your face once your it's on.
"Wash your hands before each step," you mumble, words slurring together as your head lulls forward slightly. Though you can't see it, Sylus's expression shifts to reveal fondness, irrevocable, with the melting of his vermilion eyes, pupils smoldering, heart ablaze.
Leaning forward once more, Sylus presses yet another kiss onto the bone of your cheek.
"My, so demanding."
More words leave your mouth, all incoherent and jumbled, your eyes fluttering shut midsentence. Sylus, quite the opportunist, takes this moment to seal your lips with his, unable to contain the smile which sweeps over his face, its shape attributed to the gentleness of his touch, the softness of the kiss as he settles the skincare score here.
"Anything else?" he asks, beginning the first step of your skincare (not without washing his hands first, of course!), rubbing the product in circular motions. You don't say anything; Sylus continues forward, ever-the-excellent student.
And, when all is done, your head leans against his chest, your breaths slowing as you succumb to slumber. Ever-the-excellent student, Sylus picks you up, hands supporting your legs and back, carrying you to the bed with the stillness of a statue with a mission: not to wake you up.
Grocery shopping with Caleb, taste testing meals, eating together.
"Really?" Caleb asks, disbelieving tone not matching the smile which tugs at his lips. "More instant ramen, Pips?"
Without a morsel of hesitation, you toss the nuclear-4x-spicy-volcano-eruption package into the cart, pleased with yourself as Caleb continues forward, his exasperation half-committed.
"Your stomach's going to hurt if you eat this alone," he remarks, hand outstretched to ruffle your head, the other resting on the shopping cart's handle as to keep it on course. "Get something cool while we're here."
"That's impossible," you reply, marching forward. "I'm invincible!"
While you disappear into the snack aisle, Caleb makes a stop by the freezer section, grabbing you a bundle of ice cream, the flavors your favorite.
You'll thank me later, is all he thinks. Or maybe not. Actually, probably not. You'll chalk the ice cream's presence up to pure luck, downing it after suffering from spice without a single thought as to where it comes from. That's fine too. What matters is that you don't get hurt.
Per your request, Caleb drafted a list of ingredients to buy in order to make your favorite dish—yet, despite not being a necessary component, he finds himself crossing off the words "ice cream" and "instant noodles" from his notes, pocketing his phone soon thereafter.
Watching you sift through the various snacks, Caleb prepares himself to cross off "soda," too. It's routine to him: the order of which you go through the aisles, the items your gaze lingers on versus which ones you haphazardly sweep over, the way you compare your favorite flavors, brows furrowed, lips pursed as you rack your brain.
"They both look good," you mutter, comparing a strawberry soda to a grape one. "I don't know which to choose, though..."
Noticing the way your gaze adorns the pinkish packaging, Caleb thinks today is a strawberry day.
"I guess I'll have to go with strawberry, then!" you exclaim, shelving grape.
"And these," you start, now holding two different bags of chips. "This is a really difficult one..."
Noticing the way your bottom lip presses against your upper one, the way your nose wrinkles from thought, the way your eyes narrow, reading the packaging of both your options—Caleb thinks there really is no need to choose only one.
"Let's get both, then," he suggests, taking both bags from your hands. "Why choose?"
Your expression brightens instantly. "You're a genius, Caleb!"
He laughs. You continue forward, and, with the shopping cart separating your figure from his, Caleb stares. The slight hop to your steps, the way your head tilts whenever you notice cute packaging, the occasional glance over your shoulder, eyes crinkling when you call his name, pointing at some collaboration between your favorite characters and a candy brand.
Your very existence reduces his heart to a trembling thing, twisting his ribs, curling them inwards—and to think you don't even realize that you hold it within your hands.
All your favorite snacks—as well as the ingredients to your favorite dish—secured, the two of you return to Caleb's home, his arms filled with bags while you drink your soda, satisfied.
"Strawberry was the right pick!" you exclaim, holding the drink up to Caleb's lips, tilting it for him to drink. Sugar on his tongue, he hums, watching you race ahead to the door, unlocking it with your key.
The sweetness travels from his mouth to his eyes, circulating throughout his limbs, melting into his chest, your figure submerged within sunset irises, carving out his pupils, vested safely within the chambers of his heart, satiated.
While Caleb toils away at the meal, you offer him moral support in the form of handing him utensils, arm brushing against his as you observe the status of your dish, boiling in the pot.
He puts a spoon up to your lips, head tilting slightly as he asks, "Taste test?"
"It's good!" you say, giving him a thumbs-up for added effect. Caleb just grins, spoon now placed back in the pot, palm pressed against the counter as he leans in, eyes trailing from your eyes to your lips.
"Taste test?" he asks, again, grinning still, eyes fluttering shut when you press your lips against his.
"Also good," you reply, his hand parting from the counter to cup the side of your face, sunset eyes meeting yours.
"One more?"
You laugh. "I'll allow it."
"Thanks for your kindness," he says. Another kiss. The pot bubbles, and Caleb, though reluctant, turns his attention towards it, stirring it slowly.
Caleb examines the quality of his cooking through the expressions which enrapture your face, the way you nod approvingly upon the first bite, the way you save all of the best parts for last. Caleb examines the quality of his cooking through the dishes you leave, how clean the plates are, which sides you ask for more of.
"So?" he says, face leaning against the palm of his hand, his food growing cold while he watches you eat, the sight alone is enough to quell the rumble of his stomach. "What d'ya think, Pips?"
"You outdid yourself this time!" you exclaim in between bites. Caleb, though flattered, hands you a napkin, brows furrowed slightly as he's reminded of a time from your childhood when you choked on your food midsentence.
His lips part to remind you of that time—and to warn you not to eat so quickly—but the glimmer of your eyes, and the way you shift happily in your seat, stomps out all ideas of saying anything at all.
"Aren't you going to eat?" you ask, eyeing his side dish. He slides it over to you, feigning exasperation, reaching over to flick your forehead.
"How greedy," Caleb responds, laughing.
(But your existence drowns in his eyes, and your figure melts into his bones, and the squeeze of your hands are what allow his heart to contract, and oh, your smile, it crinkles your irises, and it scrunches your nose, just a little, and the expression exists with him for longer than it does on your face—and he wants more, and he wants you, and to covet you is the greediest thing any man could ever do.)
"I'm just helping you out," you say while scarfing down your food, "'cause, you know, this isn't thaaat good..."
Caleb laughs again. The clink of dishware, the sound of voices, the existence of two, melding together, pores sinking into pores, love melting into bones—This is it, Caleb thinks.
Everything; right here.
Gardening with Rafayel, pulling out weeds, taking a nap under a tree.
"I'm going to wage war on the weeds," Rafayel declares, sitting flat on the floor, clothes stained with dirt. "They're going to regret natural selection, the fact they evolved, the ancestors they came from, the—"
"Land versus sea," you remark, holding up two weeds, their roots entangled with clumps of dirt. "I think land would win."
"Excuse me?!"
"It's only been an hour," you say, ignoring his look of utter betrayal and disbelief. "Why are you sweating so much?"
"An hour!" Rafayel repeats, arm raised to his forehead, falling back into the dirt with a harsh thud! as his chest heaves dramatically, damn near gasping for air as his free hand reaches for his chest, palming at the skin above his chest's cavity.
"A whole hour! Oh, the agony! I might shrivel up and die at this rate!" Then, he sits up, pointing at you accusingly. "Is that what you want? Huh, huh?!"
"Just go inside," you say, dismissing him with the flick of your hand. "I'll do it myself."
Rafayel gasps, brows furrowed, bridge of his nose wrinkling while his lips part, hanging agape, head darting to and fro as if to say, "Are you hearing this right now?!" But there's nobody around to share his disbelief. So, Rafayel does what he does best: he feigns nonchalance.
"Fine then!" he responds, standing up, dusting the dirt off his clothes before crossing his arms. "You can fight these weeds yourself. Don't come crying to me when they win!"
He walks away, making no effort to hide the glances he spares in your direction, wondering if you're going to grovel for him to come back (if you did, he'd half-consider continuing to toil away at these weeds with you)—but you don't, because you're heartless (how ironic!) and cruel. And sick in the head. And you really, really don't have an eye for the things that really matter in this world (read: him! He's the thing that matters! Over here! Him!)
Ten steps and twenty glances later, Rafayel realizes that you really aren't looking back. Fine. Whatever. Not like he cares, anyway!
And so, Rafayel returns to his air-conditioned studio, bottom lip jutted out as he sits down at his couch, feeling ill from how sweaty he is, the ache of weed-pulling beginning to sweep through his arms. Leaning back, he stares up at the ceiling, sulking.
He turns to look at you again, your figure now separated from his by a thin layer of glass, hunched over as you continue pulling away at those vile plants.
There you go again, he thinks. Uncaring, unabashed, unafraid. You do things without much regard for anyone else; Rafayel hates that about you. He hates that he can't seem to leave you alone, he hates that his gaze seems to root itself in your existence, unable to be torn away, unable to stare at anything else other than the slight part of your lips as you dig into the dirt, your brows furrowed, arm raised to wipe at your sweat.
You look tired.
A couple minutes later, Rafayel returns to your side with a hat, dropping it clumsily onto your head while he hands you a drink. Crouching down, he meets your gaze with the haughty tilt of his head, pouting, while he drinks in your expression with the insatiability of a couple centuries.
"Are you really going to spend the whole day doing this?" he asks, thumbing at a bead of sweat which trickles down the side of your face, eyes trickling—for the most minute of seconds—to your lips as you drink. His gaze meets yours again.
"Yeah," you reply. "We have to get your garden in order before spring arrives."
He huffs. "What's so good about a garden?"
"Didn't you ask me to help you plant things?"
Rafayel invited you over to his place with the attention of gardening for twenty minutes, and lounging for the rest of the day. He did not intend for you to work away at these damned weeds as if your life depended on it.
Still, it doesn't look like you have the wherewithal to even fathom the enormity of his thoughts—considering, well, you have no memory of anything at all!—so, with a defeated look, Rafayel tugs you away from the weeds, ushering you under a tree where he's so coincidentally set up a blanket.
"Sleep," he mutters, fingers brushing over your eyes, the coolness of his touch contrasting the warmth of your skin. "You're always causing trouble for me, you know?"
You snort. "Me? Have you seen yourself?"
Though you can't see his face, you can make out the offense in his voice, as if he's shocked by your audacity. Before he can even respond, Rafayel notices the shift in your breathing, the relax of your muscles, brows easing over as you drift into sleep.
"Ugh," he mutters, sitting back, staring at your comfortable form as you've come over to his house, freeloaded off of his kindness, and now are sleeping, despite being the guest! There's really something wrong with your standards!
"You're lucky, you know," he says, voice barely above a whisper, wiping away at the sweat which forms across your skin. "Using me like this."
After a couple hours, you wake up, your head propped up against Rafayel's lap as he sketches in a handheld book, his expression incredulous as you turn towards the garden, mouth hanging agape once you realize it was completely weeded.
"What?!" you exclaim. "Where'd all the weeds go?"
Rafayel scoffs. "They all just decided to get up and leave once you fell asleep."
You turn towards him, his hand parting from the sketchbook to thumb at your face, pinching your cheek.
"Is that what you thought I'd say? No! I did everything! While you slept, I was out there, working like a dog, day and night, living off of—"
You laugh. Rafayel's words falter before his complaint can continue on, eyes growing wide as you grin, returning his gesture by cupping his face in between your hands, adoring.
"Thanks, Raf."
He looks away, lips jutted out, brows furrowing. "Hmph. Is that all?"
"I love you."
His gaze returns to you, eyes blown wide, mouth hanging slightly agape as he stares at you, figure drowned in his pupils, expression ablaze as if he had just witnessed the sublime.
"Ugh... Do you think words are enough? Am I an easy fish to you!?"
"I love you and appreciate you very much," you say.
"Blub blub blub."
You lean forward, the shadow of the tree reaching everywhere but your lips. When you part, Rafayel hums, chasing after you again, hand pressed against the back of your head as he presses you towards him.
"I don't work for free, you know!"
Expecting your arrival, Zayne leaves sticky notes around his house for you when he works late shifts, carrying you from the couch to his bed when he does return home.
There are times where you're forced to acquaint yourself with the silence.
Zayne's home feels larger than life when he's not here—locking the door behind you, entering the place with your bags—but, there are hints of his presence everywhere, warmth seeping in through the crevices, the cold beginning to shy away.
As if expecting your arrival (despite you not telling him you'd go to his place after work), there are sticky notes around the walls, on the fridge, on the countertops.
His handwriting, while quick and oftentimes merged, reveals hints of love, etched into the way he writes your name, clearer than other words—or the way he rewrites parts he thinks may be illegible, ensuring he's conveyed everything he needs to.
"Heat up the container with the red lid," the sticky note on the refrigerator door says. "It's your favorite soup. Side dishes are the containers on the top."
On the countertop: "Don't stay up too late. Don't wait for me to come home. Sleep first."
On the television remote: "Take breaks while watching. Don't stare at the screen for too long. Get up and look around."
On the cabinets filled with sweets: "Don't eat them all." You half-wonder if it's because he's planning to go through them all in your stead.
And, on the door to his room, its hinge parting to reveal his bed, neatly made: "Sleep here. Don't sleep on the couch."
When you reach for the container, pulling the side dishes away, there's another sticky note on the lid. The writing, smaller than the rest, clearer and more carefully enscribed, reads, "I love you. I'll be home soon. Eat well."
You pocket this sticky note, smiling uncontrollably, running your fingers over the words as you can feel the indent of the pen, the pressure of his adoration, the tenderness of his words, etched hours ago. Warm, you eat the food he prepared for you, sitting at the couch with a show put on the television, wrapped up in a spare blanket.
Despite Zayne telling you not to wait for him, you find yourself lingering on the couch for much longer than intended, gaze staring at the screen, dazed, as you peer at your phone, noticing the time. Midnight, you think, unable to bite back a yawn, your eyes glossy.
You don't know when you fell asleep after that.
Zayne arrives home, bag in hand, his scrubs folded neatly within as he changes into his slippers at the door, noticing an extra pair in the rack.
You're home, he thinks. The realization makes his heart stutter a little, organ swelling, feeling fuller and wholler and brighter. The buzz of the television resounds throughout the home, accompanied by the scent of food, your presence existing everywhere—in his home, in his chest, in his mind, lingering. He steps forward, noticing your figure on the couch, wrapped up in front of the bright light. He sighs.
"I thought I told you not to sleep here..." he mutters, approaching you from a distance, noticing your eyes, fluttered shut, mouth hanging slightly agape as you sleep without a single care in the world.
Zayne showers quickly, not wanting to keep you there for much longer, but not wanting to touch you before having cleaned himself from today's shift. Afterwards, he's quick to find your figure, lifting you up, still encased in the blanket as he brings you to his room, laying you down in his bed, replacing the spare with his own comforter.
"Zayne...?" you mumble, wiping at your eyes. Zayne's hand raises to your wrist, stopping the movement, lips parting to lecture you about how it's bad for your eyes—but then he catches a glimpse of your expression under the light, hazy, marred with sleep, yet adoration seeping through your gaze, and suddenly, he can't bring himself to say anything at all. He swallows thickly.
You've made such a lover of him, your existence pervading throughout his own, his lips unable to utter any word that is not your name.
"I didn't mean to wake you," he says, quiet. "Sleep."
You lean towards him, burying your face in the fabric of his shirt, breathing in, warmth coalescing. Zayne rubs circles into your back, fingers tracing over the skin, feeling the tenseness of your muscles which he'll address later. For now, all that matters if that he's home, that you're here, and that, most wonderfully, the two of you are together.
I just know that Caleb will cut off any of his friends that makes any 'funny' jokes laced with misogyny/sexism. He will cut them off right then and there, calling them out in front of everyone.
Ever since he was a teen, he never understood why boys his age would talk so horribly about girls, it made him feel disgusting because he thought about YOU and wondered if boys talked like that referring to you. Whether it be about making fun of you or objectifying you, Caleb became super vigilant in scoping out the people that he called 'friends' and would resort to calling them out for their behavior.
His friends would call him a suck up and whatnot and that 'he was only doing it to get into your pants' but of course that wasn't true. He just hated that THIS was the world that you had to face with boys and men who don't have respect and empathy for women.
I would especially love to bring Caleb to a family gathering and seeing him call out your family members body shaming you in subtle ways and the look of shock on their faces LMFAO
Or maybe he's in public and a couple is out and the guy says something rude towards his girlfriend and he calls him out in the middle of the grocery store. That's just the kind of guy he is <3
Sum. Lads men reacting to you not being vocal about your needs for s3x. (early-relationship-ish).
notes. Based on a suggestion from an anon, i hope i did it right :') kinda smutty so MDNI. aside from that, seeing lads content just makes my heart heavy, i really hope everything will be fine and we get our wolf boy back.
kianamaiart
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