Hope's Space

Just my re-start of my Tumblr from an adult female over 35y.o😅. Resharing some of my favorite things, mostly Asian influenced. Kpop, but mostly GOT7, NCT, and OT5 DBSK. TGCF, MDZS, LaDS and the occasional drama actors.

[snoozer-crow]

"Caleb, Caleb!" you chirp, leaning over the couch and tugging on his sleeve, distracting him from working on his new model.

"What's up?" He switches his attention to you effortlessly, as if it had never left you in the first place.

"Look," you prompt, handing him your phone with a short, silly video of a strange looking baby bird on it. It flaps around a few times and runs in a circle, before falling over.

Caleb chuckles and watches it a second time before giving the phone back to you, a playful sparkle in his eyes. "Very cute, pips. You know, it kinda reminds me of you."

You furrow your brow in confusion, looking at the video then looking back up at him. He started working on his model again, nonchalant, but the little smirk on his face suggests he's still awaiting your reply. "Why?"

"You were just like that when you were little. You'd trip and fall over so easily, then you'd reach your tiny arms up to ask me to help you back up." His smirk morphs into a grin, no longer trying to hide his amusement.

"No I didn't." You pout, which seems to be what he was looking for, as his expression absolutely lights up.

"Yeah, you sure did. I remember how you'd call out for me, too. 'Caleb! Caleb, help!'"

"I did not!" Your pout turns into a giggle as you throw your phone aside in favor of tackling him, pinning him down to the cushions with one hand on his shoulder, ruffling his hair with the other.

He laughs along with you, his ears turned a subtle shade of pink as he pinches your cheek. "Cross my heart. You know what else you used to do? You'd-"

You cut him off by pressing a hand to his mouth, muffling whatever embarrassing anecdote he had on the tip of his tongue. "I don't wanna know!"

He suddenly wraps his arms around your back and pulls you down into him, effortlessly withstanding your attempts to squirm free. "Y'know, all this reminiscing makes me want cuddles. Let's take a nap like we did back then."

"Caleb-!"

He doesn't even let you protest. "Nope. You've activated Caleb's bear trap mode. You're not goin' anywhere until I'm done with you."

You whine a little, but ultimately settle, snugly nestled against him. There might not be as much space as there was when you napped on the couch as kids, but you'd always make it work.

Caleb taglist: @mifluffy-random

[niisancomplex]

[kiiseru]

I'm allowing myself to be trapped.

[neyiarts]

awoo milk 🐾

lost wolfie.

if found, please return him.

[rhysaira]

I gladly choose the villain ♥️

[ravenyibi]

[arions-archive]

The next set of Valko doodles are done. Onward we go 🐺

[arions-archive]

The next set of Valko doodles are done. Onward we go 🐺

[humanjarvis]

growing up, caleb never let you see his computer. 

at first, you thought he was just being mean, hogging the highest-tech thing you’d ever seen all to himself. then, once you got old enough, you wondered if all the secrecy was for…nefarious reasons. but every time he smiled and ruffled your hair, you just couldn’t bring yourself to think he’d ever watch that kind of stuff.

plus, the thought made your stomach hurt. 

eventually, you grew old enough to value your privacy just as much. gone were the days of you sneaking glances over his shoulder and trying to guess his password while he wasn’t looking. 

*his password wasn’t your birthday. why wasn’t it your birthday? was it someone else’s birthday?

**it always was your birthday. just typed backwards. 

in all that time, you never would’ve guessed the thing he’d tried so hard to keep from you was his own sims fantasy land. 

he’d spent hours designing both of your appearances and outfits, chasing accuracy down to the pixel. once he was satisfied, he moved your household into an empty world, so that you were free to live as you were instead of who you should’ve been. 

he’s an astronaut, you’re a secret agent. you have a garden, but he always hires someone to tend to it so the plants don't command too much of your attention. his cooking skills are maxed out, as is your relationship level. and there’s a shiny silver band around your left ring finger. 

you have a mansion with a motherlode of things to entertain you: hot tub, cupcake machine, karaoke station, rocket ship. and rest assured, there’s a trusty cowplant in the back to deal with anyone who disrupts your peace. over the years, it has lured and devoured multiple incarnations of a certain black-haired, green-eyed, sweet-toothed genius who you could never seem to stop gushing over. 

and when the grey hairs come in for both of you, and your time starts winding down…well. he already has twin burial plots mapped out in the backyard, right in the middle of the apple orchard. 

not that he’s dreamed about a life with you, or anything. 

[nixdvn]

A group of idiots (old art)

[sunsetagain]

Finding a metal pull tab means you get to open something? You should be careful, I'm a person, not a soda can.

[humanjarvis]

ID, please!

you've left your ID at home, but the situation demands it! how will they help you? (someone mistook me for a minor in the store the other day. i am in my mid 20s.)

sylus:

“i’ve had it ten times before. i can list the ingredients in alphabetical order. and reverse alphabetical order.”

“menu’s up online. wouldn't be hard to memorize a few words, forwards and backwards.” elysium’s bartender crosses his big tattooed arms and turns his nose up at you. “i’m going to need to see some identification.”

huffing incredulously, you fumble for your wallet. “you’re not usually up front. where’s aislinn?”

“she went on vacation, but not before putting me in charge. i call the shots tonight. now hand it over.” 

you all but throw your ID card at him, and he swipes it up in his grubby little hands. he runs his thumbs over it, holds it up to the light, sniffs it. then, he squints at you. “this fake?” 

“huh?”

he grins triumphantly. “it is, isn't it? you wouldn't be the first to try to trick me. this is the n109 zone! look, kid, i don’t know what you’re going through, but best i can offer you is water. i can get you a cup, or you can sit here and watch while i call secur—” 

slow footsteps approach from behind, followed by a familiar deep voice. “something the matter?”

your shoulders sag with relief. your savior has arrived.

immediately, the bartender straightens. “no, sir. i just wanted to see her ID, but i think she gave me a fake. i was just about to ask her to leave.”

sylus glances between you, meeting your pout with a near imperceptible smirk. “is someone’s word good enough for you?”

“depends on whose it is. we run a tight ship around here, sir! we want to make you proud.” 

sylus nods, already bored with the encounter. “i’ll vouch for her, then. my partner can come and go as she pleases.”

the bartender’s hand slips, tipping over a glass of ice. it shatters as it hits the ground, and sylus raises an eyebrow.

“i’ll pay for that,” the man says with a nervous laugh. “matter of fact, i’ll buy a whole new set. those were getting old, anyway.” 

shrugging, sylus slides a bill across the counter. “you can take that up with aislinn. i’m only here to make sure you get her her drink. she hardly needs an ID when she has her own special menu.” his voice softens as he tilts his head to the side. “one 'sweet evil trap,' please.” 

“c-coming right up!” 

rafayel:

raf: hey raf: heyyy. it’s starting soon. where are youuuu

with a frustrated growl, you drop your phone to your side. “can you please just let me in? i’m going to be late!”

“sorry, miss, but with the heavy themes present in this exhibition, we can't let anyone in without ID. it’s nothing personal—just doing my job.”

of course he is. it’s not like he’s standing out here blocking your path for fun. it’s not his fault. it’s not his fault. 

taking a deep breath, you redirect your anger. curse thomas for not telling you beforehand! you’ve spent ten minutes trying to strongarm this attendant into letting you into rafayel’s new exhibition, and he still won’t budge.

you bite your lip as you look at the clock, watching your time run out by the second. 

rafayel’s been talking about this all week. if you don’t show up…

well, you’ll feel bad, first of all. but more importantly, you’ll never hear the end of it. 

in sheer desperation, you pick your phone back up and jab the video call button. 

“don’t tell me you're not coming,” he starts with a sigh. “i’ve been looking forward to seeing my cutie all day, and now i can’t even have that? you’re cruel.”

“you can have it if you help me out,” you reply. “i’m outside, but they won’t let me in without identification. and i left mine at your studio, because i was completely left in the dark about needing it. through no fault of your own, i’m sure.” 

“well, duh. we’ll have to straighten thomas out for this, won’t we?” his bright eyes narrow on the screen. “now turn me around, will you?” 

half puzzled, half exasperated, you turn your phone around to face the attendant.

“hey…what’s his name badge say? it’s too tiny.”

“um…eric,” you supply. 

“hey, eric! yeah, down here, buddy. thanks for helping out today, but tell me one thing: why is the artist’s partner being blocked from entering his exhibit?”

eric pales as recognition dawns on his face. “w-we’ve been asking for everyone’s ID, sir. it’s a requirement given the nature of the exhibi—”

“you have a list, don't you? one name is on it at every event. unconditional entry.” 

you’re not even sure if there is a list. you’ve never heard of it before, and eric’s hands are empty. still, he doesn’t seem to care as he finally steps aside to let you in.

“uh…thank you.” you give him an awkward pat on the back and wince when he flinches. “sorry about that.”

below, rafayel’s huff reminds you you’re running late. “hurry up, will you? i don’t know if i have the strength to entertain people anymore. i’m losing energy by the second,” he whines. “if i don’t see you before the show, i might faint on the first piece.”

zayne:

“you don’t have to come all the way here—i’m sure i can figure something else out.”

“you’re sick, are you not?”

“yes.”

“you need medicine, do you not?”

you cough weakly, your throat tightening from the effort. “…yes.”

“i’ll be there soon,” zayne declares. over the phone, you can hear his engine starting.

“still, i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to steal the one break you have today.”

“your wellbeing is always my top priority. this request proves you’re looking after yourself. how is that something to apologize for?”

you sniffle miserably. “i’m not doing a very good job of it. if i was, i wouldn’t have forgotten my license.”

after being sidelined by a bad cold all week, you finally made the trek to the pharmacy this morning. but in your feverish haze, you left your driver's license at home. and apparently, in this day and age, you need to show ID to buy cold medicine.

after you hang up, you retreat from the checkout line, ambling awkwardly around the store to waste time. when zayne texts to tell you he’s arrived 10 minutes later, you’ve circled back toward the front again.

as the electronic doors slide open, his pristine lab coat flutters in time with his brisk steps. people gawk at him in a mix of curiosity and respect, and you can't tell if the urge to swoon is from admiration or your rising fever. 

he spots you immediately, eyes narrowing at your trembling hands and the small pill box between them. “i’m not sure why you didn’t ask me to buy it for you in the first place,” he says, steering you back toward the checkout line. “you’re in no state to be out like this.”

the cashier who turned you down earlier has a blush on his cheeks, and you try not to judge his ogling. for a surgeon to visit a drugstore, let alone in uniform, it must feel like a ceo dropping in on his employees. 

the cashier looks guilty even asking for ID, but zayne presents it without complaint. the exchange is much smoother—and much less embarrassing—than your earlier attempt, which left you wanting to melt into the floor. 

“come on,” he says as he guides you toward the exit. “i’ll drive you home and make you something to eat. this medication should be taken with food.”

“you don’t have to! i can do those things myself, now that i have this. i’m sure i’ll be better in no time.”

he gives you a flat look. “firstly, you’re ill. secondly, it may be because you’re ill that you seem to have forgotten: the reason you called me in the first place was because you forgot your driver’s license.”

your cheeks heat up, and it’s not from the fever. “oh.”

“yes.”

you bite your lip anxiously. “what about my car?”

“after i take you home, i’ll see if anyone at the hospital is available for a favor. i’ll drive your car back, and they can drive mine.”

you can’t help but cringe at the thought of him entrusting his car to someone else. “sorry.”

smiling softly, he pulls your jacket tighter around you. “again, there’s nothing to apologize for. if anything, i’m happy that i was the one you called.”

caleb:

“okay, sir, you're good to go—woah there, missy!”

right as the theme park attendant waves caleb through, he clips the rope back in place to block your path. as your eyes widen in confusion, the park’s biggest rollercoaster looms behind you. “is something wrong? we have two tickets, right?” 

the attendant shakes his head and points to a worn-down measuring stick with a sign on top: must be this tall to ride. “sorry, kid. maybe when you’re older.” 

bristling, you glare at the rope separating you and caleb. “are you serious? i’m almost the same age as him.”

“you got proof?”

you scoff inwardly, and a bit outwardly, too. “of course i do. it’s right he—”

you dig through your bag with confidence but freeze when your hand comes up empty. on the other side of the rope, caleb gives you a look that needs no interpretation: i told you so.

all morning, he’d nagged you to clean up your things on the coffee table before you forgot something important, but you were too engrossed in your phone to listen. somewhere deep down, you knew he was right. he usually was. you just didn’t expect your disobedience to come back to bite you so soon. 

“i…left my wallet at home,” you admit, suddenly sheepish. “but is there any way you could—”

“you know what? it’s okay if we don’t ride this one. i’ve never been good with heights anyway,” caleb lies effortlessly. “c’mon, pipsqueak. let’s find something more your style.”

──────

poorly muffled snickers chase you as you spin around in the giant teacup. 

“alright, i get it. it’s not funny,” you grumble.

“oh, sorry. could you hear me? i’ll try to be quieter.” 

“you—oh, forget it! it’s my fault. i can’t even be mad at you.” you finish just as a teacup full of screeching toddlers passes you by. they make your headache worse. 

caleb hums thoughtfully. “you can be. just a little. i may have chosen that rollercoaster on purpose.”

rage shoots through you like the puck on a high striker. “you what?” 

“i knew they’d ask you for ID since you’re negative feet tall, and i saw your wallet sitting on the table before we left. consider this a life lesson. i think ‘always listen to caleb’ has a nice ring to it.”

“that’ll be hard,” you say sweetly, simmering at his satisfied grin. “because once i get out of this teacup, caleb won’t be able to speak.”

xavier:

“remember that restaurant we wanted to try? i’m here right now, but…i can’t get in.”

xavier’s defeated tone makes your brows furrow. “what do you mean, can’t get in? are they closed or something?”

“not exactly. apparently, they don’t let anyone under twenty-one inside.”

“okay, but…you’re over twenty-one.” 

“that’s what i said. but they don’t believe me.” you can hear his pout over the phone. “i left my hunter badge, so i don’t have any proof. can you bring yours? or are you busy?”

you are busy, technically—if lounging around waiting for him to come home counts. but if he can’t come to you, you guess you’ll go to him. “just stay put. i’ll be there in a few.”

──────

the street lights glow a little brighter as you walk up to xavier at the entrance. he steps back so you can squeeze in front of him, and you greet the employee with a smile. 

“hi! so sorry about that. we’re together, but this one forgot his ID. i hope this works for you instead?” you pass the woman your hunter badge, hoping she’ll take pity and let you both in.

she raises an eyebrow as she inspects it. “i’m supposed to believe you? you both look the same age.”

your heart lurches in your chest. “but the—”

“i guess i should thank you for keeping our city safe, but this doesn’t tell me your age. just your credentials.” she waves the badge in the air and hands it back to you. “no verification, no entry. manager’s rules.”

slowly, you look up at xavier, bewildered expressions matching one another. “i thought looking young was supposed to be a good thing?” you whisper. 

his eyes widen as he shakes his head. “i thought so, too.”

“listen,” the woman continues. “i can tell you’re good kids, and i don’t want you going hungry. you might not be able to get in here, but there’s a place across the street that might suit you better.” she jabs her thumb forward, and you both whip your heads around to see where she’s trying to send you.

when you spot it, xavier’s mouth falls open while you exclaim in outrage.

“tiny tots funhouse?!” 

[humanjarvis]

alternative medicine

synopsis: after a tough mission, you stop by zayne’s house for a checkup. but caleb thinks you should’ve come to him.

tags: condescending jealous dom caleb, stubborn reader but justified, friendly zayne cameo, caleb’s got a weird scent thing, bickering, massage, groping, cockwarming, riding (forced), non pip-squeak pet names (baby & princess), manhandling, biting, marking, boob slapping, hair pulling, rough…not sex?

pairing: caleb x fem reader/mc

word count: 2.2k 

a/n: yall didn’t think i could still write dom caleb did u. maybe i can’t and this sucks. anyway i have turned the wholesome caleb text above into a monstrosity. if ur partner ever gets jealous when u go to the doctor irl u should ditch them immediately 

The blare of a car horn outside your bedroom window rouses you from a deep sleep. 

Late morning sunlight greets you as you blink your eyes open, surveying the mess you’d left your room in when you’d flopped into bed last night. Clothes, gear, and bags strewn all over the floor…yesterday’s mission had really taken a lot out of you.

And when you try to sit up on the mattress, you find it took even more than you thought.

Because your body hurts. Stiffness and soreness in every muscle, to the point where every movement has your limbs screaming in pain. Even your worst period cramps couldn’t compare to the army of cells trying to tear themselves apart in your body right now.

You’d really overdone it.

Staring at the ceiling, trying not to breathe too hard in case that hurts, too, you rack your brain for options. 

Back to sleep? Back to sleep would be good. Would be great, if you didn’t have plans with Caleb tonight. And flaking out this late would only make him worry. 

Power through it? Maybe. But as you try to rise again, a sharp burn in your abdomen has you gasping and crashing back down. Maybe not.

Medicine? The sensible choice. But you’d been so busy with work lately that you hadn’t been to the pharmacy in ages, and everything you had that might have helped you was expired. 

Lucky for you, you have friends in high places.

“Ow,” you groan, wincing at the sudden pressure on your neck. “Yes, it hurts when you touch there.”

“As I warned you it might,” Zayne replies smartly. “Who was it that requested this exam, again?”

“Sorry,” you grumble, lips tugging into a deep frown. “You’re using your free time to see me, I know. I’ll be quiet.”

Your friend in a high place was off work today, you’d learned when you texted him earlier. And while you’d been more than happy to leave him in peace and let him enjoy his day, when he’d learned of your condition, he’d all but insisted you come over for treatment. 

So with gritted teeth, protesting limbs, and a quick stop to a nearby coffee shop, you’d made the short trip to his neighborhood. When you’d sucked up the pain and knocked on his door,  he’d welcomed you with open arms, especially when he saw the milk tea you’d brought as compensation. 

“You don’t work for the rest of the week, correct?” Zayne asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“Nope. We had it so rough yesterday, Jenna gave everyone a long weekend. I’m free to writhe around in agony ‘til Monday,” you answer, grimacing as he checks your forearms. 

“No need. You have a moderate case of overexertion—which might feel agonizing, but it’s nothing simple painkillers can’t fix,” he decides, stepping away to rummage through a cabinet. 

“Here, take these,” he says, holding out a familiar bottle of medicine. “One pill every six hours until the pain stops. You can keep them for future use, but let me know when you’re feeling better.” 

“Thanks, Dr. Zayne,” you sing, sliding down from his bar stool to give him a friendly hug. As his large hand pats your back, you breathe in his scent: clean and light, with a hint of jasmine. “What would I do without you?”

As you swing open your apartment door and flick on the main light, a hulking figure startles you much less than it should.

Freshly showered and in his nightclothes, Caleb is already inside, flipping through a book as he lounges on your armchair. An hour early, but what did you expect, coming from him?

“Hello to you, too,” you greet him wryly. “Of course you can come in. Make yourself at home, why don’t you?”

“Well, this is my second home. Would be my first, if you’d let me sleep on the couch,” he quips, a boyish grin lighting up his face as he reaches you in four long strides. “Sorry for bein’ so early, pip-squeak. I just couldn’t wait to see you.” 

“Mm, I missed you too,” you admit, standing on your tiptoes to give him a chaste peck. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day—I’m just so tired,” you whine, falling into him dramatically.

A half-second after he catches you, Caleb falters. “Did you go to a cafe today?” he asks hesitantly. “You smell different.”

“…No?” you blink slowly, staring up at him in confusion. “I got some milk tea earlier, but I only went through the drive-thru. What do I smell like?”

“Like jasmine,” he frowns, scanning you with slightly narrowed eyes. 

“Oh, that. I said I was tired, right? It’s because of my mission yesterday. I could barely move when I woke up, so I went to see Zayne earlier. You know he loves jasmine stuff—his house smells like it a little, too. Anyway, he gave me some medicine for the soreness. I’ll probably take some before we go to bed,” you explain, fishing the pill bottle out of your purse and rattling it in the air. 

“His house?” Caleb asks, voice strained with alarm.

“What?”

“You saw Zayne, but not at his office. You went to his house for medicine?”

“Uh, yeah,” you shrug simply, leaving his embrace to stand up straight. “He was off today.”

On Caleb’s face is a mix of disbelief, betrayal, and envy. But you, too busy fiddling with the pill bottle, are too distracted to notice. 

When you look up again, his only emotion is cool, confident resolve.

“Alright then, pip-squeak,” he cheers with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “We gonna watch the movie, or would you rather mess with that bottle all night?”

Your movie night starts off slow, normal, with all the whispered jokes and casual touches of the ones before. 

So when Caleb puts more pressure where his hand rests on your shoulder, you think nothing of it, at first.

But when that hand starts groping and squeezing, fondling your soft flesh under the thin fabric of your shirt, you swivel your head and eye him suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“Just givin’ you a massage, pip-squeak,” he grins, his murmur barely audible over the gunfire on screen. “You’re still sore, right? Let me help you out.”

Unconvinced, you scrutinize him until his innocent smile dissolves your willpower. “Okay,” you say warily, turning back to face the screen as large hands caress your body. “Thank you. But don’t distract me—this is the good part.”

***

The whole third act of the movie passes, but Caleb never stops. Your shoulders, arms, stomach, hips—every part of you he can reach, pliant under his eager touch. 

And you can’t focus. 

It’s when his wandering hands greedily squeeze the fat of your breasts that you pause the movie with a choked gasp.

“You don’t have to…I’m not sore there,” you chide, cheeks flaming from embarrassment and something more.

“Hm? Is it not helping? With the way you gasped just now, I’d think it felt really good,” he mocks, leaning in to tease you up close.

“It’s not bad. You’re just…being thorough,” you grumble, retreating from his advance.

“More thorough than Zayne was earlier, I hope,” he shoots back bitterly, and it all clicks into place.

Scoffing, you turn to face him fully, making his hands fall to your sides. “You can’t be serious. Of all the things to be jealous of—”

“I’m jealous that my girlfriend would go to another guy’s house for help when she has me on speed dial.” 

“Oh my god, Caleb, you’re not a doctor! I would’ve called you if I needed a ride home or something, not if I needed medical help.” 

“When was the last time you saw a doctor just because you were sore?” he lifts a brow, slowing his movements on your body. “I can help you just like this. You’re feelin’ better since I started, right? I can tell you are. You’re less tense, and you don’t wince when you move anymore. That’s me. Not him.”

He’s not wrong. Since he started his massage, your muscles had relaxed almost miraculously, as if his hands were the antidote to your pain. 

You won’t tell him that, of course. Pride and all.

“I’d be perfectly fine with Zayne’s painkillers,” you snap haughtily. “I don’t need you for everything, you know.”

At that, Caleb freezes entirely. 

But only for a moment.

“Is that so?” he asks lowly, breath fanning the shell of your ear. There’s a threat in his voice. A promise. Things never ended well when he took that tone with you. 

“Wait,” you try to backtrack, nervously bracing your hands against his chest. “I didn’t mean it like that, I-I just—”

Before you can plead your case, Caleb hauls you up and into his lap, molding your back to his front with an iron grip.

“I know exactly what you meant, pip-squeak,” he whispers in your ear. “But I thought you’d be tired of me provin’ you wrong by now.”

As you squirm helplessly in his hold, his hands return to your chest, pulling your shirt up to pluck and grope your tender skin. It’s hardly a massage anymore, with how rough he’s being—rolling your nipples under skilled fingers, tugging them until they ache with pleasure. When he cups one breast with merciless ownership, making your flesh spill out between his fingers, you moan and wriggle in his lap, reigniting the burn in your thighs. 

“Still hurts?” Caleb asks, laying his head on your shoulder tauntingly. 

“N-no, it feels g—”

He cuts you off. “It does, huh?” he pouts with feigned pity. “Poor baby, still so tight…don’t worry, I’ll loosen you up.”

Before you can react, he lifts you slightly to free his hard length from his sweats. Under your skirt, his hand pinches the fat of your ass hard before he slides your soaked panties to the side. 

And then slowly, steadily, Caleb lowers you down on his waiting cock, inch by devastating inch. 

Your mixed gasps fill the room as you adjust to the feel of each other—you suction his length, he savors your warmth.

“This better, princess?” he grits out, one hand still fondling your breast while the other grips your hip.

“Caleb,” you groan, annoyance and arousal blending together. 

He coos in response, pressing a gloating kiss to your hair. “Aw, it is? I know it is.” 

Chuckling breathily behind you, he slaps the flesh of your breast with a reverberating smack, and you squeal as your skin ripples. “He didn’t help you like this, right? I hope he didn’t,” he jeers. “Otherwise, I’ll have to pay him a visit.” 

Hissing at the lingering sting on your chest, you stomp his foot with your smaller one. “You are so childish! It wasn’t like that.” 

“You’re melting around me, baby,” he ignores you, shifting his hips to press deeper into you. “You don’t need those pills, you don’t need him—not while I’m here. I’m the first one you tell. First one you cry to. No one else. Isn’t that right?”

Mewling at the new angle, you shake your head wildly, bringing an arm up to tug at his hair. 

Huffing out a laugh, Caleb sinks his teeth into your neck in warning, sucking harshly before lapping at the mark. “No?” he asks, grinding your hips into his so roughly that stars cloud your vision. 

“When you're hungry, you call Caleb. When you're thirsty, you call Caleb. When you're happy you call Caleb, when you're sad you call Caleb. And when you’re sick, you still. Call. Caleb,” he finishes, punctuating his last command with three punishing thrusts into you. “Say yes.”

Stubborn as ever, you deny him, still squirming in his grasp. But when he bounces you on top of him, forcing your aching thighs and ass against his swollen base in slick, lewd slaps, you lose the dignity you had left. “Yes!” you squeal in submission, digging your nails into his thighs to ground yourself. “Y-yes, I’ll come to you when I need something. Always. I should’ve this time, I’m sorry.”

As soon as the words leave your lips, it’s like the tension in the room evaporates. 

Sighing contentedly, Caleb wraps an arm around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest to lay a kiss on your temple. “I know you are. But it’s okay now, right? Lesson learned for next time.”

“Next time,” you agree dazedly, eyelids drooping as his length still pulses inside you.

“Now, why don’t you pass me the remote? We have a movie to finish.”

The movie ended an hour ago.

But Caleb was far too satisfied watching you doze off on his cock to ruin the moment. 

Now, slipping out of your heat with gentle precision, he gathers your sleeping form in his arms, cradling your head to his chest.

You smell like him now. Good.

Carrying you to your bedroom, he lays you down and slips a loose t-shirt over your head before pulling the covers to your chin.

For a moment, he watches you, a serene smile gracing his lips in the moonlight. 

And then, he dips a hand into his pocket, fishing out the stolen pill bottle and dropping it in the trash.

[humanjarvis]

autopilot

when caleb suddenly video called you on his flight back from a no-contact mission, you should've known there'd be trouble.

thousands of feet in the sky, there he sits: trousers unzipped, legs spread, manhood on full display. cloaked in black leather, his right hand covers his straining length, pumping up and down with slow, indolent strokes. each movement sets his pale skin ablaze, and he can’t help but grunt at the friction.

slack-jawed, you give him a half-greeting, half-wheeze. he laughs at your dazed expression, confirming you aren’t in a dream right now. still, you aren’t quite over the shock.

making sure you have a full view, he tilts his head toward the camera, hissing when his gloved fingers squeeze around his base. “what do you think? you can tell me. is there anything you want me to change?”

change?

about his…?

your head spins, and your gaze drops against your will—not that it really has anywhere else to go. he’s long and thick, with healthy veins bulging from the stimulation. he knows he looks good, knows there’s nothing to change. there’s no way he doesn't. 

he’s flaunting himself. 

“just say the word,” he prods. his voice is serpentine. “pleasing you is my highest priority. anything you want, i’ll do it.” 

“n-no. it looks good.” the throb building in your core undermines your brain’s processing power. “you look good. there’s nothing to change.”

humming, he continues his lazy strokes, his bulbous tip reddening by the second. “you like it, then? i’m so glad. it’s all for you, you know. no one else.”

your mouth is so dry, it feels like swallowing sand. 

“what do you think it'll feel like?”

the question makes you freeze, sending a million little glitches sparking through your nerves. “um…good?” 

“‘good’ again, huh? is that all you can say? you know you can be more descriptive than that.” he twists his hand around his shaft and groans. “come on, try again. don’t go dumb on me. when i’m inside you, so deep you can't tell where you end and i begin…what do you think it’ll feel like?”

time stands still. does he really want you to answer? what should you even say? 

though your phone is perched in your lap, he still finds a way to look down at you. his top lip curls in the beginnings of a mean sneer, and his stormy eyes narrow expectantly. 

“big,” you whisper. it’s the first thing that comes to mind. “heavy. like i’ll have nowhere to go as long as you’re there.”

he moans his approval, and forewarnings of his release trail out in thin, translucent streams. “yeah? keep going. what else?”

you go to speak again, but a sudden pang shoots straight through your core, making you gasp. in the background, you hear his quiet chuckle. 

after a moment's recovery, you try again: “hot. really, really hot.” swallowing thickly, you squeeze your thighs together. “so hot inside me, i’ll try to pull back—to cool off—but you won’t let me. you’ll keep me there, and you’ll kiss me, and it’ll just get worse.”

he throws his head back with a breathy moan, colonel cap falling down the back of his pilot’s seat. gradually, his hand comes to a halt, but he hasn't truly finished yet. with the way his length stands proudly on the screen, straining and swollen from all of his teasing, that much is clear. 

as his eyes nail you in place through the camera, you get the foreboding feeling that he's saving his release for your reunion. 

“i’ll stop there for now. any more, and, well…things like this shouldn't go to waste.” he shifts in his seat, raising the phone to his flushed face. “i’ll be home in thirty minutes. make sure you're ready to get everything you asked for. your wish is my command.”

[tulipwrites7]

One shot : too little, too late Caleb LADS x reader Coming Soon!

Tropes: college + work au (there's a time-skip) - romance - angst - oneshot - she fell first/he fell late - right person, wrong time - friends to lovers (??) - yearning - pining - one sided - second chance romance

Teaser:

Caleb was someone who lit up your days, like wildflowers blooming after the rain.

You laughed together.

Studied together.

Spent holidays together.

Spent almost every day together.

Somewhere between ordinary moments, friendship turned into something more. Something stronger. Something that made your chest flutter, but tighten at the same time. Because he knew...

Whenever life asked you to choose...

You chose him.

Every single time.

Whenever life asked him to choose...

He chose everything else.

"I kept saying 'after this.' I didn't realize there would always be another 'this.'"

Divider credits to @diviniyae

All pictures from Pinterest! Credits to rightful owner <3

[valka]

the full set of LIs getting yoinked at the claw machine :> now i get to decide what the next set theme will be...

[spring214]

valko - unexpected visitor

a/n: more valko content to fill the void in my heart - accompanying art here

tags: fluff, fluff (literal), established relationship

As soon as you’d kicked the door shut and slipped off your shoes, you’d heard the noise. 

It was… rustling? No. Maybe it sounded more like… scratching. 

“Valko?” you called out. The response you received sounded eerily like a whine.

It all quickly made sense when you walked down the hallway a found a wolf in your apartment. A real, honest to the gods, wolf. And a giant one at that. You'd stumbled upon this majestic creature, currently faced away from you on its hind legs, paws braced against the fridge door, gnawing at the handle. 

What the fuck?

It spun around to face you, but immediately stilled once you took a wary step back. 

The wolf lowered itself slowly, curling inwards to make itself look smaller, which would have worked if it wasn’t still one of the biggest creatures you’d ever seen in your life. It looked up at you with it’s golden eyes, patiently waiting. 

“Valko?” you ventured softly, crouching down, hesitantly reaching a hand out. It should have been obvious- although, coming home and catching a wolf trying to pry open your refrigerator was surely enough to throw anyone. Plus you’d never seen your boyfriend so… cuddly before.

His ears perked up at the sound of his name, and his tail began to wag, but he kept his distance.

“It’s you, isn’t it, sweetheart?” 

He made a soft sound, before lolling his tongue out.

“C’mere.”

It’s the direction he’d been waiting for- making sure you felt comfortable before approaching. Your heart warmed with fondness, how sweet, your gentle giant.

He trotted towards you leisurely, before nosing at your hand. 

“Hey, Val,” you giggled as he licked your fingers. “Looking a little different today. Did you do something with your hair?”

He puffed and prodded you with his nose until you sat down properly, then promptly made himself comfortable between your legs. Unsurprisingly, even in this form he towered over you. You reached around to stroke the length of his back. Valko rested his head on your shoulder, practically melting under the attention. 

While you were very much enjoying cuddling him like this, you suddenly became aware you were still in your work clothes.

“I haven’t put my stuff down yet. I’ll go get changed and be back in a second. Okay big guy?” 

You booped his nose, giggling when he grumbled in response. After giving him a few more scratches around the ears, you gently extracted yourself and left for the hallway. 

You’d thought it was a little strange that he gave you up so willingly but when you returned to the kitchen and found him trying to open the fridge again it made sense.

“Hey! Valko no.” You tried pulling him away but he wouldn’t budge. “You can’t have chocolate milk or any chocolate for that matter!” you scolded, barely squeezing between him and the fridge. “What if you get sick!” 

Valko huffed and whined and tried to (gently) push you away. 

“Nope. No chocolate until you shift back.”

He let out an anguished howl and the theatrics of it all made you laugh. "None of that's going to help you Mr Wolf."

“And maybe consider keeping the howling to a minimum. I don't want a noise complaint.” Valko herded you backwards, out of the kitchen and into the living room. “And I don’t want to explain to my neighbours my newly acquired, well, wolf. It’d be hard to talk my way out of that one,” you continued.

The back of your knees hit the edge of the couch as soon as you’d finished speaking. Valko pounced up and draped himself across your lap. He whined and tapped your hand with his paw. 

“You’re just a big puppy aren't you?” you laughed, beginning to stroke his fur. 

Valko’s tail started wagging.

“You’re so cute! And your eyes, they're so pretty- have I ever told you that?”

Valko tilted his head to lick at your hand.

“You know, it's kind of easier to talk to you when you’re like this,” you said.

Valko paused and gave you his full attention, dropping his chin down onto your hand and looking up at you.

"I don't know why but I feel like it's less embarrassing? Or vulnerable?" You scratched his chin. "For instance, I can tell you that… when you go away on your business trips I miss you more than I let on. And even though I grumble about it, I secretly kind of like the hikes we go on together."

"I can also tell you that maybe I’m really glad you found me. I mean, I was doing fine before. But. You-"

Nope! Still too much! 

You buried your face in his fur. "You fill my life with happiness just by hanging around. Please keep hanging around? It’d be nice if we could stay together.”

You hoped that the, ‘for a long time’, was implied.

Valko licked your cheek as soon as you braved the prospect of raising your head. You decided to take it as an agreement.

“Oh and one more thing. Just so you know... I think you always look pretty and handsome. But that last hair cut you got- I lied. I said I liked it but really, you were right, the barber cut it way too short. It didn't really look the best.”

Valko dislodged you, sitting up on his haunches and looking at you with a miffed expression.

“I was just trying to make you feel better,” you scrambled to explain. “It was practically a buzz cut- which you could definitely pull off if you wanted to,” you amended quickly. 

Valko bit your arm playfully. It barely even stung but he was already licking it better.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess I deserved that. I’m sorry.”

You continued to pet him for a while. Eventually you leant over and rested against him. He was so warm and soft and your eyes were slowly fluttering shut. “Do you mind if I take a nap here?”

Valko wiggled out from under you.

“I guess that’s a no,” you sighed. You were about to lay down once again but then Valko was pulling your shirt, tugging with his teeth. 

You let it happen without questioning it and found yourself lying horizontal across the couch. So he was making sure you were comfortable, you thought, smiling sleepily. Valko curled up against your stomach, settling in your outstretched arms.

“Love you Val,” you whispered. A soft contented sound was the last thing you heard before drifting off.

The living room was shrouded in darkness when you finally woke from your nap. 

“Valko?”

Moonlight illuminated the face of your lover, who smiled as you blinked your eyes open. He pressed his nose to yours. “Hey sweets.”

“Welcome back,” you laughed softly.

Valko ducked his head and joined you in your laughter. “Thank you, thank you.” 

“Feeling good?”

“Better than ever. Don't you worry about me.” 

You raised an eyebrow. “So, were you just in a wolfy mood or, does this happen often?”

“Usually I shift once a month. Ideally it’d be more than that, but I rarely have the time.”

“I see.”

“I thought you might like to see it. See me, I mean,” he corrected, his confession coming out a little shy. 

“You were right. I’m glad you shared that part of you with me. You were very cute,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“So I heard,” he said. Valko smirked, but his flickering ears betrayed how pleased he was to hear it again. 

“And if you ever want to shift you're always welcome to do that here-

“Thank you.”

“-though, now that I’m thinking about it, I assume the forest would be better. That way you can actually run around, stretch your legs and… howl at the moon?”

“That’s a myth, pancake. We don’t actually do that.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I feel like you’re a real howler, you know? I can just picture it.”

Valko chuckled and shook his head. “How about this? Next time I shift, I’ll take you with me.”

You looked up at him, eyes wide. “Seriously?"

Valko shrugged. “Sure.” 

"But I feel like- isn't that kind of an intimate thing? I don't want to intrude.”

"You wouldn't be intruding. I wouldn't have invited you if I felt that." He shook his head. "I feel safe with you. And I'll keep you safe as well."

“Wow.” You cocked your head, examining him. “You really like me, huh?” you teased, not sure how else to respond in the face of such earnestness.

“Yeah,” Valko admitted easily, seeing right through you. His expression was warm, his voice tender. “I really do.”