Another year, Quitely
Warnings ~ use of y/n, fluff , sweet kisses
Chapter outfit , Caleb McLaughlin x Actress!reader au
— — — — — —
Today marks five years with Caleb.
Over these five years, we’ve managed to keep what we have completely private. At first, it was easy. When he was nineteen and I was eighteen, we could slip into movie theaters in hoodies and hats, go on cute little dates without anyone paying us any mind. It felt like our own little world.
As we got older, it became harder—especially once we hit our early twenties. Our schedules grew hectic, life got louder, and finding time that felt untouched became more complicated. But one thing I’ve learned is that there’s something special about loving someone this way.
I love the thrill of it.
The late-night drives.
Running around the city with Caleb when most of the world is asleep.
The way it still feels like ours, even after all this time.
Five years later, and I’d choose it the same way every time.
I was just sitting at home, waiting for Caleb to come back.
He’d said he had to run out and grab something really quickly, but he’d already been gone for at least fifteen minutes. While he was out, I’d technically been getting ready—well, kind of. All I’d managed to do was curl my hair and clip it up to hold. That was it.
I was still stretched out on the couch in my light pink pajama pants and white tank top, a blanket draped over me while Big Mouth played in the background. I barely paid attention to the screen, my mind half on the time, half on him.
My phone dinged.
My love🩷: on my way back
Y/N: okk
I set my phone down and let the show continue, not even a minute passing before I heard keys jingling at the front door. I didn’t move. I already knew Caleb would come to me.
“Hey, you,” he said, a small smile forming across his face. “Still in pajamas?”
“I was waiting on you,” I replied, pausing the show as I stood up to hug him.
He wrapped his arms around me immediately, pulling me in and pressing a quick kiss to my lips. That’s when I noticed the flowers in his hand—and the small pink gift bag.
“And who are these for?” I asked, nodding toward them.
“Oh,” he said casually, smiling as his gaze dropped to the bag, “they’re just for the prettiest, funniest, most talented girl I know.”
“Oh, she sounds wonderful,” I said, smiling right back.
He laughed softly and handed them to me. “Here you go, love.”
“Thank you so much,” I said, hugging him again—this time tighter—before planting kisses all over his face. Nose, forehead, cheeks, lips. Everywhere.
“I hope you like it,” he murmured between kisses.
I finally pulled back, smiling down at the flowers before quickly grabbing a vase for them.
“Open the bag, baby,” he said, following me into the kitchen.
Inside was a small box. When I opened it, my breath caught. A necklace—delicate, simple—with a tiny locket holding one of our favorite photos.
“Oh my gosh,” I said, eyes wide. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I rushed back to him, hugging him even tighter than before.
“Turn around,” he said softly. “Let me put it on you.”
I did, and he gently moved the loose curls out of the way, fastening the necklace around my neck. When I turned back around, he smiled so wide it made my chest warm.
“You look amazing,” he said, locking eyes with me.
“Thanks to you,” I replied, touching the locket. “I’m never taking this off.”
He laughed. “Now go get dressed. We have dinner reservations in an hour.”
“Okay, okay,” I said, already heading toward our bedroom.
I hopped in the shower quickly, not wanting us to be late. Once I got out, I freshened up, took the clips out of my hair, and realized time was moving way faster than I thought. I hurried through the rest—moisturizing, getting dressed, slipping into the outfit I’d laid out.
When I stepped back out, my heels clicked softly against the floor.
“You look amazing,” Caleb said.
I looked up and caught the way he was smiling—wide, genuine.
“Thank you,” I said, grabbing his hand. “You look handsome too.”
Together, we headed for the door.
Dinner was waiting.
And we didn’t want to be late.
— — — — — — — — — —
The restaurant is warm when we walk in, low lights and soft music filling the space. Caleb keeps his hand on my lower back as the host leads us to our table, not even thinking about it. It’s automatic at this point—like muscle memory.
As soon as we sit down, he leans back in his chair and looks at me for a second too long.
“What?” I ask, already smiling.
“Nothing,” he says. “I just like when you dress up and pretend you don’t know you look good.”
I scoff. “I’m literally sitting here trying not to spill water on myself.”
“Exactly,” he says. “Effortlessly impressive.”
The waiter comes over and starts explaining the specials. I nod politely while Caleb listens like this is the most important talk he’s ever heard. When the waiter finally leaves, I lean forward.
“You’re not actually getting the salmon, right?” I ask.
He raises an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because every time you do, you say you should’ve gotten the steak.”
“That was one time.”
“That was every time,” I correct.
He laughs. “Okay, food critic. What are you getting?”
“I’m getting the steak,” I say confidently.
He smirks. “Of course you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re gonna say you’re full halfway through and then eat half my fries.”
I point at him. “First of all, that’s not true. Second of all, if you didn’t want to share, you shouldn’t’ve ordered fries.”
Our food comes, and—predictably—he stares at my plate like he’s reconsidering his entire decision.
“You want a bite?” I ask.
He doesn’t even hesitate. “Yeah.”
I slide my plate over slightly. “See? This is why we’ve made it five years. Compromise.”
He takes a bite and nods slowly. “Okay… yeah. You were right.”
I grin. “I know.”
We eat, talking about nothing and everything—random stories, things we forgot to tell each other earlier, a moment where he tries to explain something and completely loses his train of thought because I’m not listening.
“Are you even paying attention?” he asks.
“Mm-hmm,” I say, sipping my drink.
He tilts his head. “What did I just say?”
I pause. “That you love me?”
He laughs, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Still here, though,” I reply.
Dinner goes by faster than I expect. Dessert menus come and go—we decide we’re too full, even though we both know that’s a lie. When the check comes, Caleb grabs it before I can.
“Hey,” I protest.
“It’s our anniversary,” he says. “Let me.”
I smile, leaning across the table. “Thank you.”
Outside, the night air is cooler, the streetlights glowing softly. We walk side by side, steps in sync like they always are.
“That was nice,” I say.
“Yeah,” he replies. “We should celebrate five years more often.”
I bump his shoulder. “You just want an excuse to eat my food.”
He grins. “And hold your hand.”
He does exactly that as we head down the sidewalk, fingers lacing with mine easily.
Funny how something so simple can still feel like my favorite part of the night.
— — — — — — —
By the time we’re walking down the hallway toward our apartment, the night has settled in completely. The building is quiet, lights dim, our footsteps echoing softly as we make our way down the long stretch of carpet.
I make it about halfway before I slow down.
Then stop.
Then dramatically sigh.
Caleb glances back at me. “Why did you stop like that?”
“My feet hurt,” I say flatly.
He looks down at my heels, then back up at me. “You picked those shoes.”
“And I regret it,” I reply, already bending down to slip one off. “This was a terrible decision made by a girl who wanted to look cute.”
“You are cute,” he says. “But you’re also stubborn.”
I kick the other heel off and straighten up, holding them in my hand. “I physically cannot walk another step.”
He stares at me for a second like he’s debating something. “So… what you’re saying is—”
Before I can respond, he steps forward, bends slightly, and lifts me right up, tossing me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.
“CALEB—” I laugh, instantly clutching onto his back. “Put me DOWN.”
“Nope,” he says, already walking again. “You’re done for the night.”
“I can walk barefoot!”
“You said you couldn’t walk.”
“In HEELS,” I correct, laughing harder as my shoes dangle from my fingers.
People’s doors pass us as he keeps going, completely unbothered.
“If someone sees this, I’m blaming you,” I say.
He smirks. “They’ll just think I’m a great boyfriend.”
“I’m upside down.”
“Details.”
I lightly smack his back. “You are so annoying.”
“And yet,” he says, adjusting his grip, “you’re still here. Five years strong.”
I groan. “I swear if you trip—”
“Relax,” he cuts in. “I got you.”
We reach our door, and he fumbles with the keys one-handed while I try not to slide off his shoulder.
“This is so unnecessary,” I tell him.
“And yet,” he says, opening the door, “very effective.”
Once we’re inside, he finally sets me down, and I immediately stretch my feet like I just ran a marathon.
“Oh my god,” I sigh. “Freedom.”
He laughs, closing the door behind us. “Next time you’re wearing sneakers.”
“Next time,” I say, “you’re carrying me again.”
He raises a brow. “Oh, so now you like it?”
I smile sweetly. “Don’t push it.”
I pad further into the apartment barefoot, shoes still in hand, heart light, laughter lingering in the air.
— — — — — — —
By the time we make it into the bedroom, the laughing hasn’t stopped.
I kick my shoes off properly this time and head straight for the bathroom while Caleb drops his keys on the dresser, still shaking his head like he can’t believe I made him carry me down the hallway.
“You’re dramatic,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head.
“You literally volunteered,” I shoot back. “I didn’t ask to be manhandled like a sack of potatoes.”
He laughs. “You were enjoying it.”
“I was upside down,” I remind him. “That is not enjoyment.”
I change into my night set—silky, black, soft against my skin. It’s a two-piece with buttons down the front, comfortable but cute in that effortless way. In the mirror, I redo my hair quickly, gathering my curls back into the same clips from earlier before pulling my bonnet over everything like the final step of the night routine.
Caleb watches from the doorway. “You know,” he says thoughtfully, “every time you put that bonnet on, I know the day is officially over.”
“Good,” I reply. “That means no more nonsense.”
He grins. “That’s unfortunate.”
We brush our teeth side by side, bumping elbows, making faces at each other in the mirror like we’re not grown adults. At one point he spits too early and starts laughing, which makes me laugh, which turns into both of us laughing way too hard over absolutely nothing.
“This is why we can’t be serious,” I say, rinsing my mouth.
“I don’t wanna be serious,” he replies. “That’s the whole point.”
We finally climb into bed, the lights dimmed low. I curl into my usual spot, blanket pulled up, bonnet secure. Caleb turns toward me, still smiling like the night hasn’t fully settled yet.
“You good?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “Really good.”
The laughter fades naturally, like it always does. The room grows quiet, not awkward—just calm. He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead, then my cheek. I smile and return one to his lips, slow and familiar, nothing rushed.
Another kiss.
Then one more.
Eventually, we just stay close, breathing evening out, the day finally catching up to us.
“Happy anniversary,” he murmurs.
“Happy anniversary,” I whisper back.
Somewhere between comfort and quiet, sleep finds us both.
