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a caleb x reader!mc fic ── ─ synopsis: caleb has been distant these past few months. when you find out why, you kneel before him in atonement with a foxlike smile. [based on the texts caleb sends if you do not log in for a long time.] ─ content: 🔞mdni, jealousy, arguments, light yandere activity, mc matching his freak, first time oral (caleb receiving), begging/pleading, use of 'baby' as a petname.
“Ugh.” Slipping from your fingers, your feathered pen clatters to the floor. As you reach to pick it up, you brush against some of the fresh ink on the pages of your well-worn journal, and it smudges, coating your pinky in deep blue blots. You glare at it disdainfully. Thunder accompanies your frustration in a resounding symphony of understanding, rolling into a crescendo that echoes throughout the apartment. Skin prickling with irritation, you sigh in dismay.
“What’re you grumblin’ about?” Caleb turns away from his magnum opus, spatula in hand. He’s cooking some sort of creamy pasta with champagne, and your stomach chirrups at the heavenly smell of garlic and onion wafting from the kitchen.
“Nothing. Just dropped my pen.” You try to provide him an ‘I’m okay!’ smile. It doesn’t convince him.
“That’s pretty grumpy soundin’ just for dropping a pen,” he gives a sympathetic smile in return. “Anything buggin’ you?”
Yeah. You.
“Nope,” you mutter crossly into your journal from your perch on one of the island counter chairs. Other than the overhead kitchen lights, Caleb’s apartment is dimly lit; only a few lamps provide a soft glow in golden hues. The pitter-patter of raindrops painting the windows compliments the sleep-inducing ambiance in perfect harmony.
Caleb has been increasingly distant the past few months. This is the first time you’ve been able to visit him in what feels like ages, and you swear you physically feel the cobwebs and dust coating your every conversation. Vignettes of your past litter the back of your mind – a resounding echo of what once was.
‘It’s square one all over again.’ You start to write again, spurred on by the tiny butterflies dancing in your chest, taking your breath away. ‘I’m just not sure how he feels.’ Without realizing it, you mumble the last few words out loud.
“Huh?” Caleb turns around again, sharply quirking a brow. “How who feels?”
Oops.
“Not important,” you roll your eyes. “Just thinking out loud.”
“Sounds more like you’re writin’ something serious." His expression darkens, a slight scowl present, before he turns around again in an attempt to hide it. “I won’t interrupt.” Caleb waves his spatula in a mock salute. The cactus-coated tone of his voice and the rigid way he shrugs his shoulders betrays his faux nonchalance entirely.
You snap your journal shut in exasperation. The rainfall only grows louder in response as it splatters against the windows. Staring outside at the gray storm clouds whipping up a whirlwind that threatens to conquer the skies, you sigh. It’s as if nature herself understands, passing you crumpled notes in the classroom.
“Done.” Caleb announces, wiping his hands with a kitchen cloth. “Ready to eat whenever.” He’s stone cold, avoiding your gaze entirely.
You want to say something, opening your mouth, but no words come. Folding your arms around your waist, you walk into the kitchen. Your knitted cardigan – the one Caleb made for you when you complained of the cold in Skyhaven – hugs you with a comforting warmth as you move to stand in front of him. You’re frozen now in his presence, entirely spurred on by your desire to unravel the confusing threads of your current relationship – status: unknown.
After a moment, he looks back at you. You’re met with lilac eyes that hold a somber depth you dare not explore, dark caverns of lavender sprigs with defensive brambles and thorns. A tattered page of your journal will lament how they haunt you.
Caleb breathes in deeply. His body shudders when he exhales. Without a word, he turns to grab the plates from the cupboard. You reach to grasp his arm and stop him halfway, goosebumps appearing where you touch. “Not really fair for you to set the table, too.”
He shrugs, giving you a lopsided smile. It’s tainted with an underlying somberness; a silent resignation. Closer to him now, you can see how exhausted he looks. His undereyes are more sunken than usual; veins peeking out, a small jungle of azures and violets. Frowning, you accept the plates he hands you, and he moves to scoop his masterpiece into a serving bowl.
“Funny how we set the table still, just for the two of us,” you force an awkward smile, “guess gran really had a lasting impact, huh?”
Caleb freezes in place for a moment, then scoffs. “‘Course we gotta set it. Even if it’s just us.”
As if burnt, you wince at his scathing tone. “I guess.”
When he glances over at you again, he does a double take at your downcast expression. A fork clatters to the floor as he presses both palms against the counter, brows furrowed. “What’s up? Seriously, Pips. I’m tearin’ my hair out.”
“What?” Your mouth is agape.
“You’ve been absent for months.”
Huh?
“I’ve been… m-me?” Stuttering slightly in shock, your hand firmly grips the marble counter’s edge. “You’re the one who’s been M.I.A. lately. What’ve you been doing?” Your lip juts out, defiant.
The unspoken accusation paints a dumbfounded expression upon Caleb’s face. He looks at you incredulously. “You…” He breathes out a tiny laugh, chestnut hair ruffling as he shakes his head. “You think I’ve been doing something I don’t wanna tell you about, huh?”
You nod.
“Well, you’re partially right,” he leans against the counter, shoulders slightly hunched. “It’s nothin’ like that, though.”
“Like what?” Anxiety curls around your ankles and up your spine like tendrils, thorns digging into your skin relentlessly.
Caleb glares, gaze dark and wary. “Don’t.”
“Why?” You almost whine it out, your vexation gripping onto your every word with an underlying fire. You argue, the endless dance of the wolf and fox, deep forest undergrowth torn from treading through in loops. Again and again, back to square one.
Stop telling me no.
“Where have you been?” He folds his arms. “Been seeing the doctor a lot?”
Your mouth drops.
“Yeah. Thought so.” Caleb turns to forcefully open the drawer and pulls out utensils, and they clatter with the action. He snatches the fork that fell onto the floor earlier and throws it into the sink unceremoniously, rolling up his sleeves to wash his hands. He literally just washed them…
“Caleb.”
He pauses.
“I’ve been overly anxious.” Because I keep thinking I’m losing you. Idiot.
Rising from where he was hunched over the sink, Caleb sighs through his nose. Confusion is written across his features. He nods. “You… wanna talk about it?”
“I don’t really want to, to be honest,” at his sour expression, you continue. “But I probably should. That’s why I’ve been seeing Zayne more. He thinks I should take something for it, and see a specialist, but I worry it’ll affect my work.” Night jasmines and frosted hands draw tender circles upon your broken heart, apprehension making way for peace. “He’s… a good listener.”
Caleb’s gaze holds an unknown murky depth. “I’m a good listener, too.”
Your breath hitches. He has that tar-pit look in his eyes, again – the one he uses when things aren’t going his way. The lavender fields burnt to ashes, sunsets clouded by thunderstorms. A constant companion throughout your lives, but when used in this regard, it leads to a chill of unease rolling up your spine. Jagged amethysts stare daggers back at you. A strange part of you inside is kindled by it.
“I know.” Your voice is almost a whisper.
After a long moment, Caleb looks in every direction, then rubs the back of his neck; a nervous habit. He clears his throat. “Well. Probably should eat before it gets cold.”
You nod in agreement.
Dinner is a solemn event. Outside, the enraged winds howl in a high-pitched whistle. The sound of your fork scraping the plate can hardly be heard. “It’s really, really good.” Finally breaking the silence, you finish off the last few bites with a small flourish, forcing another smile.
Caleb’s eyes flit up, uninterested. “Glad you like it.” He’s prodding his food absentmindedly, not taking a single bite.
“You’ve… been working a lot the past few months, haven’t you?” You pieced the puzzle together earlier.
He breathes in deeply, chin lifting to stare at the wall. You’re walking on eggshells.
“Yeah.”
“What’s that about?” Scooping out more pasta from the serving bowl, you can’t help but to pry. A noodle falls on the table, sauce splattering upon it into tiny specks, and you huff indignantly as you clean it up.
Caleb shoots you a warning glance – though his gaze softens as you take another bite, suckling the sauce on the fork with the intention to disarm him. “You know if I could tell you, I would.”
You hesitate, fork resting against your lower lip. “Promise it’s work?”
He furrows a brow at that. “You’re kidding, right? You can’t be serious.” Not even entertaining the notion, he takes a stab at his pasta. “What else would it be.”
A sudden crack of lightning causes you to jump up in your seat. On edge, you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Caleb is unphased, likely used to it. Giving you a sympathetic look, his brows pinch together in worry.
“I'm fine,” you shake your head, “it’s just… louder than usual.”
“Yeah. Up here it gets wild out there.” Finally, after a long time of toying with his food, he takes a bite. You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t realize you were holding. “Luckily, the infrastructure accounts for it.”
“Why is it bothering you that I’m still friends with Zayne?” You blurt out without thinking. Ugh. He just started eating, too.
He sets his fork down after a brief pause. “I didn’t say it bothers me.”
“It’s pretty obvious.”
“Are you trying to make me jealous, or what?” Caleb leans back in his chair, arms folded. His leg shakes impatiently underneath the table, bouncing incessantly. “You haven’t been around. ‘Course I’m gonna assume.”
“I was waiting for you to text me.” You frown. “Usually, you’d say something. But you didn’t.”
Caleb shakes his head, eyes violet pools of distrust. “You kept leavin’ me on read.”
What? The chair screeches slightly as you rise to fish your phone from your coat pocket. You feel your heart racing, the pitter-patter of rabbit feet.
After pulling it from his pocket, his phone is carelessly dropped on the table with a small thud. “See for yourself.” You rush to his side to look. He’s right… An overwhelming amount of messages were sent to you the past few months with no reply.
fleet’s been quiet lately, no patrol missions.
how’s it going on your end wanna go for a ride together?
looks like Linkon’s been a bit unstable lately.
if you run into trouble don’t hesitate to ask me.
i checked no Wanderers detected near Linkon recently.
sooo where’d you disappear to all day been busy with something else?
when we were kids every time you vanished i could always find you at our secret base.
it should be the same this time right XD
checked every secret base and still couldn’t find you.
first time ever i lost at hide-and-seek :(
or have you found a new secret base?
woke up from a dream saw the living room light still on thought you’d come back.
then i remembered it’s the light i left on for you so you wouldn’t come home to darkness.
...where are you.
got ambushed by Wanderers on my return flight last night it was critical.
but for some reason i felt a bit glad.
when you’re not here battle’s the only time i feel like my heart’s still beating.
what kind of secret base could keep you away for so long....even to the point of forgetting to come home.
when you’re back take me there too :)
I’ve exceeded the safe flying time limit and got forced into a break :(
so now even the one thing that could fill the emptiness is off the table.
maybe it’s for the best this way I’ll stay home all day and the moment you open the door you’ll see me here.
Warmth wells up inside your chest, burning viciously, threatening to leave you in cinders. A rollercoaster of emotions takes over. You feel the weight of your anxiety the past few months pulling your heart down, crushing you entirely. “I…” Another part of you is relieved, almost comforted by the distraught tone of his messages. You attempt to silence the dark part of you that pines for his constant attention, the unchecked desire for the sun to shine upon you alone, to no avail.
“Well, it’s obvious something's wrong with your phone.” Caleb looks considerably calmer now, hand outstretched. “Want me to fix it?”
You hesitate. It doesn’t escape his notice. He quirks a brow expectantly, and you reluctantly hand it over. He unlocks it with ease, having memorized your passcode ages ago. “Have you been charging it next to your hunting watch, by chance?”
“Usually, why?”
“Might be messin’ with the signal.” He parses through a few prompts in the settings section. “Doesn’t explain why they wouldn’t show up later though. Everything seems to be fine.”
“Maybe your phone isn’t sending them?” You fidget, pulling on the sleeves of your cardigan.
“By now it would’ve been obvious, work would have me thrown off a ledge for not responding.” Caleb frowns, handing your phone back to you. “Other than talkin’ to the carrier, looks like there’s nothing we can do if it’s yours.”
“I’ll do that tomorrow, then. I can’t afford to have my phone messed up either.”
There’s an awkward pause as you sit back down, swiftly checking your phone to see where he left off. It’s on the home screen. Phew. You don’t want him to discover how anxious you’ve been without him, conversations with Zayne and Tara leaving an imprint in the back of your mind.
“How…” Reluctantly, you decide to ask outright. “How did you know I’ve been seeing Zayne a lot?”
Caleb doesn’t meet your gaze, arms folded. He stares at the wall with a scowl. “Lucky guess.”
You don’t buy it, but you know he’ll never admit to it.
Caleb is a shadow in the night, a snake slithering through your garden. Somehow he always knows where you are, who you’re with, what you’ve been up to. It was never so obvious when you were younger; in fact, it felt like a boon. When someone picked on you, he took care of it. When you were lost, he would find you. Always.
You can’t decide how to feel about it, the concoction of emotions stewing within the pit of your stomach. The confusing feelings envelop you in a shroud of dark disorientation. Guilt claws at your throat as the notion of pressing him further crosses your mind. You give in.
“You always have to find out everything on your own,” it comes out as a whisper, “why not just ask me? I’ll tell you. I’m not hiding anything from you.”
Caleb leans forward in his seat, jaw clenched. His lilac eyes are firebrands. “You wanna know how many things you don’t tell me? I can’t even count them on one hand.”
“Maybe to me they’re just mundane and normal things.”
“Don’t think it’s really normal to treat your doctor like he’s your boyfriend.”
“He’s not– why are you being like this?”
Arguing with Caleb was nothing new, especially after his brush with death. Something about this is different. The wild look in his eyes, the dark circles underneath that tell the story of how he’s truly been feeling the past few months… before this hiccup, you were closer than ever. Now? The castle walls are crumbling around you.
“I know you’ve been going out with him,” his voice is in a perplexing state, trembling with every word. Coming undone, unraveling at the seams. “All different restaurants, walks in the park. I’m sure it’s strictly medical though, right?”
Something previously ignored rises to the surface now, a forbidden feeling you had locked away. It slithers up your legs and around your stomach; a welcome heat. Somehow, you feel the cruel weight of your anxiety lift with every word, your fear of losing him subsiding. As the wolf circles, the fox’s smile widens; letting her teeth show, eyes ablaze with delight.
Caleb’s eyes search yours in confusion as he rises, leaning forward to cup your chin, deft fingers trailing down your jawline. "Why're you smilin' like that?"
"I'm not." Your eyes betray you.
Unamused, he moves in closer. You feel his breath tickling your cheek with every uncanny word. "Maybe you should stay here for a while."
The unspoken intention seems to thrill you further.
"Maybe I should."
Caleb's brows raise, his mauve eyes darting around wildly. "You're not even gonna fight it?" His voice is gravelled and low; the exact cadence that weakens your resolve. He knows it, a dance carefully navigated; a curtsy before the line is just barely crossed.
You shake your head. "You're not going back to the Fleet, either."
Snorting softly at that, Caleb moves to touch his forehead to yours. His slightly-chapped lips graze your nose as he levels your gaze to his. As his calloused hand runs down your neck, you shiver with anticipation.
He pulls away from you, restraint unmatched.
Not today.
You push him down into his chair and kneel before him without a second thought.
Caleb is completely dumbfounded by it, at first. “Wh-” Blinking, he licks his lower lip, brow furrowed. “Seriously? Are you tryin’ to apologize? Save it. I don’t need your pity-” his voice trails off completely as you scoot closer to him. Nuzzling his thigh, your makeup transferring onto his pantleg, you breathe dangerously close to where he longs for you to be. “Fuck.”
The fox has the upper hand now.
You look up at him, batting your eyelashes. Dragging your hand up from his ankle, onto his thigh, you arrive just a sliver away from the tent that’s rapidly forming in his pants. Rubbing circles there, you wait for his approval. Caleb’s confusion subsides, replaced by something akin to… remorse?
Murmuring your name, he shakes his head, eyes lost. For once, you’ve caught him.
Nosing where his hardening cock lay underneath his trousers, you inhale deeply. He shudders. Once again, you’re looking up at him – eyes glazed over, waiting, wanting. “If I told you it wasn’t pity, would you believe me?” You whisper the incantation upon the fabric. He’s desperate to receive your touch underneath, jerking forward unwillfully.
“You…” Caleb shakes his head, then reaches for yours, running his fingers over your hair. His plum eyes are soft and melancholy, almost wistful. He looks at you like he’s trapped in a reverie, his thumb running down your jaw and tilting your chin. Resolute, he laments: “Fuck. I can’t… I can’t stop this now, can I?”
“You may try.”
Caleb snorts at that, dismissive. Guiding your head inwards, he starts to fiddle with his belt, his fingernails digging into the leather. You stop him, fingers overlapping his. Puzzled, he looks at you in confusion, dejected. “No? So you’re not…”
“Not what?” With a coy smile, you give where his cock is straining against his pants an experimental lick, long… and… languid.
“F-fuck.” He stares down at you in disbelief, his ears beginning to flush, mouth agape. “Please, baby. I need you. Now.” Pawing at his belt, you elect to ignore his plea and decide instead to attempt to use your mouth – unsuccessfully, much to your delight. With the leather between your teeth you diligently tug it from the loop, and when he impatiently raises his hands to help, you pull his wrists down to his sides. “Really?” He’s almost pouting. You glare at him in warning, eyes ablaze.
Your nose grazes his clothed member, his body responding in turn with a lapse in function. Somehow you manage to remove it, and it falls to the floor with a soft clink of the metal clasp. The button is simple, coming undone easily – to your dismay. Oh, how you long to torture the man, planting a kiss upon his navel for good measure. His breath hitches as he sucks in his belly involuntarily. You softly laugh at his lucky ‘misfortune.’
Obedient to a fault, Caleb raises his hips to allow you to tug his pants off. You’re only slightly surprised to see a small dot of dampness where he strains against his gray boxer briefs, your cheeky smile not lost on him. “Yeah, yeah. Gloat all you want, but if you keep this up, it’ll be over before you even get to it.”
You quirk a brow at him, batting your eyelashes innocently. “Keep what up?” Before he can reply, you plant a kiss upon the damp fabric where you know his tip rests underneath. His hips jerk upwards, and your chin bumps into his thigh. In his desperation, he pulls down his underwear. His cock springs to life against your cheek. “So impatient,” you chide.
Caleb cups your face with both hands, his eyes overly round and pleading. “Please. I can’t fucking take this anymore.”
“I’ve barely started,” you purr. With foxlike devilry, you nuzzle his member, inhaling his scent deeply. Shuddering, he struggles to place his hands, settling on rubbing circles at the base of your neck. You sigh with contentment as you look up at him behind fluttering lashes, warm breath tickling his skin. His eyes are closed with anticipation, and he’s breathing deeply – as if he’s on the edge of letting go. You push him over: slow as molasses, your tongue trails up his length.
“Ffffuck.” Caleb moans as you lap at his tip with a slow rhythm. “M’not gonna last.” He leans forward, his hands kneading your shoulders. You pull away from him, fondling his sack. “D-don’t do that. Shit.”
Growing impatient, you plant kisses upon his cock, slow and deliberate. When you arrive at the tip again, you swirl your tongue around it, eliciting a moan. Wrapping your mouth around it fully, you return a singsong of your own. The vibrations cause his hips to jerk, his length pushing further into your mouth. Eyes half-lidded, you look up to see his expression – a decision you don’t regret. His chestnut hair is a mess, and his lust-filled eyes are like lavender pools of longing.
“Need you, fuck.” Caleb trails off with a whimper as you begin to suckle, taking him deeper within your mouth in a bobbing motion. His words are incomprehensible as he grips your head with one hand, the other now scratching at the side of his chair. As your movement becomes more comfortable, you take him down your throat. Gripping your head with both hands, he attempts to move you away from him. “M’gonna- oh. Baby, you gotta let go, I’m- ffffuck.”
Eyes rolling back, he jerks his hips in desperation as he spills down your throat, his seed coating your tongue. It’s bitter and sweet all the same, and his babbling is nonsensical as you swallow him down with fervor.
As he slows, the realization of what just happened seems to dawn on him. “Shit. Sorry, I… no, sorry isn’t enough. I really fucked up, I should’ve-”
“Save it.” You roll your eyes at him, and he trails off. With a deep voice – a silly Caleb impersonation – you tease him. “I don’t need your pity.”
Caleb stares at you dumbly for a moment, then smiles, slowly leaning down to plant a tender kiss upon your forehead. For once, the chatterbox is silent.
Rising from your seat on the floor, your knees ache. “Still jealous?” Caleb’s expression sours, then softens as you bend to kiss his cheek. He sighs, surrendering. “Always.”