#caleb xia x reader

[calebsdog]

Caleb hasn't been acting like himself lately. He's been quiet, acting like your shadow, lingering just a few steps behind but never making himself known. It didn't make sense.

Caleb was a bold, bright young boy. Raising his hand for every question in class, helping struggling elderly folks cross the street, and certainly never missing an opportunity to tease you.

His teasing has always driven you nuts. But now that you haven't felt his warm hand patting the top of your head, purposefully messing up your hair, you wish he would just snap out of whatever poor mood he's in and be normal again.

"Gran? I think Caleb is getting sick."

Josephine's reading glasses sit at the end of her nose, nearly falling off of her face. When she looks up from her book, she gives you that expression. She looks at you like she knows something you don't, like she pities you for your nativity. You hate when she makes that face.

"Don't worry, dear. Caleb isn't sick. He's just-" Gran's sentence cuts off prematurely. She struggles for the proper words, a decent explanation, before giving up. Shaking her head, she ends the conversation.

"I think it's best if you give Caleb some time to himself for a little while. I'm sure he'll be acting more like himself in no time. Just be patient."

Gran's advice makes no sense to you. Why would Caleb feel better if you leave him alone? And if he wasn't sick, what else could be wrong with him? Still, you try to heed her advice. She has more life experience than you. And, with the way she was speaking to you, it seemed like she knew what was wrong with Caleb better than you.

You manage to keep your distance from him for an entire day. It was at recess, not long after noon, while you were playing on the monkey bars with some other friends.

Huddled against the brick wall of the school building sits Caleb. He's half-hidden in the shadows, his knees tucked into his chest. Caleb plays with you every day at recess, even when his friends try to drag him to the playground's basketball court.

Today, he was watching you, never approaching. Looking at you like he was worried someone would dive out of the sky, snatching you up. Taking you away forever. Before you know it, you snap.

"Hey." Stomping away from the monkey bars, you march right over to Caleb's direction. He was starting to really get on your nerves! You were ignoring Gran's advice. But maybe, just this once, you knew better than the adults.

"..." Caleb doesn't blink as you corner him against the wall.

"I'm sorry. Did you get scared playing by yourself?" His eyes were dull. And you know it has nothing to do with the shade he was hiding himself in.

"I'm sorry. I keep failing you." Ashamed, the young boy curls up on himself. This time, your annoyed expression wasn't enough to bring an amused smile to his face. Why couldn't he just look at you?

Caleb's always been the one cheering you up when you weren't feeling like yourself. When you were trembling from the force of the thunderstorms outside, Caleb wraps you up in one of his jackets. When you were delirious with a fever, your limbs thrashing around mindlessly, Caleb lets you bite his hand to keep you from hurting yourself.

Caleb knows how to make you happy. But does anyone know how to make Caleb happy?

Think. What could you do to make Caleb feel like himself again? How do you know what makes a person happy when they're smiling all the time?

"Hmph!" Before you can second-guess yourself, your hands reach down, roughly snatching Caleb's wrist in your haste. Something had come to mind. You had no idea if it would work. But it was better than doing nothing like Gran told you would be best.

Taking Caleb's hands, you smash both of his palms against your face. The softness of your baby fat dents underneath the pressure. While Caleb was still in shock, you pry open his fingers. And maneuver them to pinch the chubby apples of your adorable cheeks.

Caleb has always enjoyed taking hold of your squishy face whenever he was teasing you. You always swat away his hands before he can enjoy the sensation too much.

"Caleb, I'll let you have a free pass to pinch my cheeks. But it's valid for today only! So, you better enjoy it, kay?"

For a while, Caleb doesn't move a muscle. His hands stay exactly as you had positioned them, his index and thumb lightly clasped around your cheek. He doesn't make his hold on your face tighter or looser.

"... Heh. I should have known. Of course you would find a way to make me feel better." Slowly, your offer starts to sink in. When he starts to pinch your cheeks, not enough to hurt, but just enough to shift your face around like clay, he starts to feel a little more like himself.

"You're so cute." A part of you, the part of you that always grumbles when Caleb plays with you like this, wants to avoid meeting Caleb's gaze. It was totally humiliating to be poked and prodded at like you were his little pet.

But... You have to know if you're managing to cheer Caleb up. Hesitantly, you peek up through your eyelashes, daring to catch a glimpse of his eyes.

Ah, it was just as you had hoped. The light that you have come to associate with Caleb has begun to wash away the dullness from before. Maybe you did know how to cheer Caleb up better than anyone else.

[empress-azrael]

This is so random but the entire time that I was reading this, I was thinking of the word “knew”. Like I understand that it’s pronounced the way that is pronounced. I know that it has a K but the way that it’s spelt something about the K with the E separated by the N and then ending with a W. Like for some reason, the bad combination of letters doesn’t seem like it should be forming a coherent word, but it does!

What the birthday boy wants...

aka, marathon sex

Caleb x female reader

You’ve spent weeks planning for this day. The bakery order. The string lights. The playlist tailored to every one of Caleb’s favorite songs. A whole night built around making him feel as loved, celebrated, and special as he always makes you feel.

But when your boyfriend steps through the door, none of it matters anymore.

He drops his bag, eyes locking on you like you’re the only thing in the world worth seeing. He barely spares a second glance at the birthday banner above the kitchen. Doesn’t notice the cake, frosted to perfection and waiting on the counter. Not even the presents lined up in a neat little row by the sofa.

All he can focus on is you. Standing there in that dress he’s obsessed with—the one he bought for you and said made you look “dangerous.”

“Happy birthday,” you say, soft and nervous while fidgeting with the black ribbon on the strap of your dress.

He doesn’t answer. You blink and he’s surging toward you like gravity has shifted and his body has no choice but to fall into yours.

Caleb kisses you like he’s starving.

No gentle greeting, no birthday speech about how lucky he is (he’s definitely thinking it, though). Just his mouth crashing into yours, hands gripping your soft waist like he needs to anchor himself while he loses control.

You stumble back blindly, barely registering that he’s walking you toward the wall until your spine hits plaster and his hands are already sliding beneath your dress.

“I’m sorry,” he whines, leaving sloppy kisses along your jaw, your throat, then the top of your cleavage. “I know you planned so much. I saw it. And I swear I love it all. But I can’t—I can’t do any of it right now.”

Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling his head back just enough to see his eyes. His pupils are so dark and dilated that you barely see the rings of vibrant violet around them. Yet through his desire, he manages a needy pout—begging for forgiveness even as he looks ready to fuck you into the wall.

“Caleb, you don’t have to apologize.” Chuckling softly, you brush your fingers through the hair along the nape of his neck. “If this is what you want, then I can’t deny the birthday boy.”

That’s all the permission he needs before he’s back on you again.

“All I’ve thought about today is you,” he groans. “Knew you’d be waitin’ for me, all dolled up. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

It’s clear he’s getting more and more riled up as his hands wander your body. You love when he gets like this, all slurred words from being drunk on the sight and feel of you. He hasn’t even gotten your dress off yet, but he’s already a mess.

“I don’t want dinner,” he murmurs, fingers trailing up to tickle the band of your panties. “Don’t want cake. Just want you.” His declaration makes you whimper, thighs already pressing together at the sound of his voice—how low it drops, how hungry it sounds. “Please, baby. Wanna taste you. I need it.”

One shaky nod from you is all it takes and then he drops to his knees, eyes locked on yours as he tugs your panties down your legs.

“I’ll make it up to you for ruinin’ your plans,” he says. “Gonna lick this sweet pussy ‘til the candles on that cake melt.”

You barely manage a breath before his mouth is on you.

There’s no buildup, no teasing. He’s too impatient to take his time—and he already has plans to fuck your cunt with his tongue all night long anyway, so he doesn’t need to savor this.

He devours you, tongue parting your folds, hot and wet and focused as he sucks on your clit like he’s trying to get drunk off the taste of you. His large hands envelop your thighs, keeping you still as you shake against the wall.

It’s barely been two minutes of his lips on you and it already feels like you’re close to coming. The way his head is buried beneath the frilly skirt of your dress, his fingers digging into your plush skin—it’s so filthy that it makes the pressure build in the pit of your stomach. 

His tongue keeps flicking your clit with a single-minded focus on making you come as hard and fast as humanly possible. The devastating rhythm has you gushing all over his lips while you cry his name. If you could see him right now, you’d catch the sinful sight of your juices mixed with his spit as it trails down his chin and neck.

“Fuck,” you gasp, hips stuttering forward. “Caleb, you’re gonna make me–”

“Do it,” he growls against your pussy. His words are muffled while he’s unwilling to part from your flesh for even a second. “Come f’me…”

Your orgasm hits hard, too fast, the pleasure spiking so sharp that your legs buckle as he groans against you. And Caleb keeps licking and sucking you through it like he wants to wring you dry.

He stands before your knees fully give out, catching you with one strong arm around your waist. You desperately try to suck in deep breaths, but they catch in your throat at the sight of his slicked up mouth and chin—coupled with lust-blown eyes that say he only wants more.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmurs. “Better than cake, I bet.” Then he kisses you—tongue and all—and you moan into it, dizzy from how quickly you reached your peak.

He lifts you into his arms effortlessly and carries you to the bedroom, shedding clothes with barely restrained urgency. His shirt hits the floor. His belt clatters across the carpet (god, it’s so hot when he undoes it with just one hand).

He kisses you between every hurried step, mouthing every patch of skin he can reach without ever slowing down. A quick bite on your bottom lip. Then he sucks harshly on the sensitive spot under your ear, surely trying to leave a mark that lasts.

When your back hits the bed, you reach for his cock already peeking out between the unzipped top of his pants. He’s already achingly hard, already leaking enough precum to make the lazy glide of your hand so smooth and slick.

Caleb shudders from your touch and whispers, “Need you, baby. Need you so bad I can’t think straight.”

You don’t keep him waiting any longer. He hikes your dress up around your hips while you guide him to your entrance. And then he pushes inside fully with one deep stroke.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans, bracing himself over you, arms trembling. “God, you feel so good. So perfect—always so wet for me.”

His thrusts start fast. Like he can’t slow down even if he wants to. The tip of his cock drags against your g-spot so deliciously that your eyes roll back. And he watches in awe, mesmerized by the way you moan for him.

You claw at his back and wrap your legs around his waist as he pounds into you, the bed creaking beneath every motion. It’s not long before you come again with a sob, nails digging into his shoulders as you clench around him. He kisses the tears from your cheeks and slows for a moment before pulling out.

The sudden loss makes your breath stutter in confusion. But just as quickly, he flips you over and pulls you onto your hands and knees.

“Don’t worry, pips,” he pants, pressing back into you with a broken groan. “I’m not done with you. Need to make you come again.”

You’re not sure if you’ll even be able to do what he wants when your whole pussy is tingling with oversensitivity. But he fucks you through it—through your cries, through the overstimulation, through the way your arms collapse beneath you and he has to wrap an arm around your stomach just to hold you upright.

You can feel him shaking behind you, can hear how close he is in the way his voice starts breaking, the way he whispers, “Gonna come inside you, fill you up—fuck—gonna mark you.” When your moans pitch higher, it only makes him even more crazed. “Yeah, you want that?” he murmurs, thrusts turning more erratic. “Then you gotta come for me again, pretty girl.”

Before you can say a word, his fingers glide down your front. They dip beneath your dress and hastily lock onto your clit, rolling and pinching the throbbing bud with the intent to make you flutter around him.

The two of you come together this time, your moans entangling and turning into the most obscene symphony.

Caleb twitches inside you before spilling one of the biggest loads you’ve ever taken from him. It leaks from your swollen pussy when he pulls out, but he wastes no time smearing it around and pushing some of it back inside with two thick fingers.

You can already tell your dress is going to be ruined—the top all damp with sweat and the hem messy with your combined releases. 

It’d make sense for Caleb to stop now. After such an intense orgasm, you’re expecting him to be too tired and not hard enough to keep going.

But when he eases his fingers out of your sore pussy and rolls you onto your back, his eyes are still full of something wild.

And when you glance down at his cock, it’s already half-hard again.

He slides back into you slowly, cradling your jaw with one hand and your thigh with the other. He moves like he wants to memorize every part of your body.

Every time you whimper, he moans. Every time you cry out, he praises you.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers. “So good for me, letting me have you again and again.”

You lose track of time. Hours blur into one long, aching haze of pleasure. He takes you every way he can—on your back, on your side with your leg hitched around his waist, then riding him until he’s trembling beneath you and gasping your name like a prayer.

And every time you come, he tells you how good you are. How lucky he is to have you. How you’re the only present he ever wants on his birthday.

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve had when you’re wrung out and raw, eyes glassy, thighs trembling and sticky.

But Caleb is still insatiable. Still making up for all the years he never got to have you like this. Your legs are spread by his strong hands, and he licks into you again—achingly slow this time. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s finally getting tired or if he just wants to take his time worshipping you.

“Hm, you taste even better after I’ve come inside you,” he whispers.

You moan, twitching beneath him, and he just smiles against your folds.

It takes longer now that you’ve had so many orgasms already, but he diligently pulls one more out of you. And after you come with such a sweet moan, you both collapse in a tangled heap, breathless and sore.

Caleb yanks you to his chest, his fingers playing with your hair while you catch your breath. His eyes are still half-lidded with desire as he mumbles, “Best birthday I’ve ever had.”

You snort. “You didn’t even get to blow out your candles.”

He looks at you with a lazy, wrecked smile. “I blew your back out instead.”

You swat his chest, but he catches your hand and kisses your fingers, then the inside of your wrist with a wet smack.

“I’m still not done,” he says, like it’s a threat. But you must be just as crazy as he is, because you faintly feel the pulse of arousal between your thighs yet again.

“Caleb, isn’t it getting too late–”

“It’s still my birthday for another hour,” he purrs, dragging his mouth along your sweaty neck. “Doesn’t that mean I get whatever I want?”

Your breath hitches and your body gets all worked up again as he slides his leaking cock up and down your slit.

“And what I want,” he whispers, “well…you already know.”

a/n: thank you to the anon who requested this!

💕 tag list: @heartyluv @doeeyes515 @lethalasylum @starryeyed-apple @starlitfics @craeatio @rafayelslittlestar @ruralamours @alyssac9 @blushofeve @alastor-simp @nezuswritingdesk

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mdni banner by @/cafekitsune divider by @/strangergraphics

[gloxym]

Withered Apple

So, um, idk how to do the whole "Master Post" or something like that, so I'm really sorry about it. But, this post will probably be the one where I update parts of the story that pop into my head. They honestly feel more like short posts rather than a full story, but they are continuations!

update: added the tag "gloxym withered apple" to make this series easier to find!

Content Warning for the entire series!

hate sex | afab!reader x Caleb | Non!MC x Caleb | p in v sex | degradation | cursing | spanking | no aftercare | dark fic | no romance | porn with implied plot | blood | abuse | angst | dark themes

the one that started it all | the continuation of the first part update: caleb alone

I will do my best to update this post for people to see. This is just so I don't have to keep adding all the tags and worry I might bother someone that isn't interested in a fic like this. I finally gave it a title, so hooray.

Thank you so much for the people who really enjoyed a fic like this. I worried that my skills might not be the greatest to tackle something as dark as this, but even if one person liked it, then it's enough for me. :) So, truly, thank you all for showing interest and I hope that it can inspire you to write your own fics!

This song became the unofficial theme for this story, so if you like rock music this is the song I used! If not, it's perfectly okay!

Bring Me The Horizon - liMOusIne (Lyric Video) ft. AURORA

[magicdustsworld]

Would you believe if I say husband!Caleb is petty?

You've been in a pretty bad mood since this morning and all of your anger is targeted at him. However, rather than blowing up and taking the whole Linkon city down with you—you are hell bent on giving him the cold shoulder.

Caleb has tried everything in order to weasel back into your good graces; but you seem to not budge at all. Therefore, he does what any responsible, mature husband would do.

He tightens every single jar in the kitchen and places them in the highest rack.

It doesn't take long for the inevitable to occur. Sooner than he predicted, he hears the sound of your frustrated grumble floating from the kitchen. Barely hiding the conceit blooming in his chest, he strolls towards the damsel in distress—you.

"Fuck this," you curse under your breath, trying to twist the lid of pasta sauce jar with all your might.

No luck.

Caleb leans on the door, folding his arms over his chest and one of the most condescending smirks lines his lips. Watching as your expression shifts from stubborn determination to murderous rage in a matter of seconds.

"Got a problem, pipsqueak?"

You freeze for a second. The next, you whip around—death burning in your eyes. "You—" inhaling a sharp breath, voice deceptively low. "You did this on purpose."

Rather than admitting, he lifts a brow, "Did what? Store things out of your adorable little reach? That's just called good kitchen organization."

The corner of your lip curls down into a sneer—blood curdling in your veins. Stomping over to him, you thrust the jar to his chest, "Open it."

For all what Caleb is, he does take the jar from you but makes no effort to open it. Instead, he tilts his head, "No apology?"

"For what?"

"For freezing me the whole morning?" He says, tapping the lid. "You want me to do something then you gotta play nice, pipsqueak."

Again with that nickname...

Your fingers twitch, like you are considering the possibility of smacking some sense into him but choose against it. It is clear that he is enjoying this game he is playing—seeking out ways to prove just how dependent you are on him regarding everyday things. And although you don't want to ask for his help, you have little choice in the matter. Besides, with the way he is looking at you presently, the reason as to why you were mad at him is suddenly lost.

Taking a controlled deep breath, you school your expression into the most fake smile ever and say through gritted teeth, "My insufferable, dearest husband, will you please open the jar for me?"

Caleb grins, twisting the lid off with ease; an act which leaves you infuriated rather than impressed. "See? That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Instantly you snatch it back, whispering something incomprehensible under your breath although Caleb catches the wisp of a word like jar opener. However, before you can walk away, your husband reaches for your wrist, tugging you back.

"Next time you are mad at me..." He pauses, weighing his next words carefully, "...just say so, hmm?"

With that, he seals his request with a chaste kiss to your forehead.

Your heartbeat seems to have increased by a mile—thumping inside your ribcage so hard that you can hear it. A heat spread over your cheek and ears. You let out a huff to shroud the fluster in your being.

"Next time, I am poisoning your food."

To which, Caleb laughs—that stupidly annoying laughter that makes you weak in your knees—before stealing another kiss on your lips.

"Then I'll just have to eat it, pipsqueak."

I've recently played lnds and I am obsessed with it 🥹

[xiaprint]

newlyweds

caleb x femreader | post wayward wonderland, marathon sex | minors dni

his muscles ache something serious, caleb is convinced that he’s never exerted himself so much before this. since he was old enough to purchase his own gym membership, he’s been consistent in moving his body and hitting pr lifts at the gym. he’s an active guy and that stamina is something he built over the course of years yet he’s sweating. he’s busting a sweat the longer he goes, fucking you into the mattress like it’s his one sole purpose on this earth. sometimes he believes that it is.

he couldn’t help it. it was inevitable after watching you twirl in the big wedding dress that was prepared, after sliding that ring down your knuckle. dreams always felt so unattainable to caleb because he had a tendency to go big or go home. it was that ambition that helped him pass aviation school with flying colors. still, he never thought it would get him to where he was at now.

nothing melted his brain quite like this. from the day his mind strayed from innocence and developed into something greater, from the moment he felt that nauseating feeling of love and desire— this is what he wanted. you were the picture of beauty without trying, his fantasy wrapped in pure white and lace and diamonds.

the echoing replay of your voice accepting his vow, responding to his deepest wishes is what made him cum the first round. it was embarrassingly fast, only a few minutes after he managed to get you onto the bed with your back sinking in the plaid duvet. he got a few good thrusts in before he hastily pulled out, painting your lower tummy in his seed after hurriedly pushing the fabric of your dress up to your ribs. surely not his proudest moment but he knew you’d cut him the slack.

second time around wasn’t all that impressive either, cock somehow still so hard and red. blaming it on how overwhelmed he was with the meaningful day was the safest bet. he fucked you slow, using every muscle he’s spent his free time fine tuning to give you what he’s always wanted you to feel. spilling his love into you, pumping you snug and full.

“caleb,” you breathe his name, barely audible yet he’d always catch it. he came when you called, it was a sixth sense to him that he unlocked when you were just kids and needed more help than you’d care to admit. it was his favorite sound and he lifts his head up not even a second later to catch sight of your beautiful eyes. “we can take a break, don’t hurt yourself.”

god, he almost scoffed right in your face. this was his confession to you even if he had already poured his guts out time and time again. this was his true seal of love, passion, lust. he was doing what a good husband should by taking care of his lady and putting her to sleep on her happiest day. he was making you feel special and the thought of tapping out just because he was breaking a little bit of a sweat? ridiculous.

“i’m making love to you,” he whispers with a simple, weak shake of his head. that familiar red hue blooms along the tips of his ears, coats his neck and shoulders. he’s bare aside from his signature chain, now paired with his wedding band. he finds your hand, hovered over you, watching with hazy purple eyes as a drop of his sweat lands on your collarbone. he kept you in your wedding dress and veil, wanted to savor the sight some more.

“let me make love to my wife, huh? doing what i said i would. you need to feel how much i love you.”

it was to be expected. caleb was headstrong, went hard for the things he cared about. there was no sense in arguing against him when he got like this, even if he’s panting hot along the curve of your neck and even if his hips are stuttering with every sloppy thrust.

the bed set below was a goner— beyond repair with all of the cum and juice smeared on it from the various positions caleb squeezed you into. it was raw and real, the kind of sex that made your eyes roll into the back of your head and toes curl up so hard that they nearly cramp. springs creak with how deep he hauls his hips into you, groans freely leaving his swollen lips because he’s taking what he’s wanted all of his life.

“get to do this to you every single night,” he finds your ear, planting a gentle kiss to your lobe as his tip probes your cervix. it almost hurts but your legs wrap around him nonetheless, heeled shoe digging into his lower back. “i get to make you cry like this for the rest of my life. you’re mine to kiss and hold and fuck forever.”

the walls of the room feel as though they’re closing in with every word, the realization that he is officially bound to you making you cum another round. white cream coats his dick and he lets out a hiss at how visible your approval is, how your body is talking back to him and letting him see for himself just how happy you are.

“yeah, me too, honey,” his lips plant gentle kisses along your jaw to your chin, sweet and soft the same way it has been and always will be. “don’t gotta say a word, just breathe. i know. i’m happy too.”

[ffiolette]

CALEB XIA TWT LINKS

INCLUDES— fingering, clit play, cunnilingus, facesitting, handjob, recording, exhibition/voyeurism (??), car sex, making out, groping, penetration, squirting, creampie, blowjob, size difference kink, virgin caleb in some links, masturbation, breast/nipple play.

WARNINGS— CHN/KR/JP DYNAMIC !! USE OF GEGE AND MEIMEI !! added a virgin!caleb series because I love the headcanon of him saving himself for mc after all these years, he's yearner number one !! 16 links, all of these videos are for afab readers/viewers, don't like don't read/watch, make sure to be logged into twt/x beforehand, if some of the links stop working please lmk ! nsfw below the cut

caleb absolutely ravishing you after having to wait years to get his hands on you

your gege holding your hands while he creampies you <3

you're staying at home while you're on summer break from college, but you have to be quiet so Grandma Josephine doesn't catch the two of you

caleb saved himself for you all these years so you have to teach him the basics ⋆ giving virgin!caleb his first handjob ⋆ you know your gege has a particular interest in your panties ⋆ virgin!caleb seemed quite useless when you tried to teach him how to eat you out, he couldn't even find your clit, so you ordered him to lie still while you rode his face instead ⋆ teaching virgin!caleb how to make you come with his fingers ⋆ when you finally take caleb's v card he's such a desperate mess, humping and rutting into you like he's in heat, he's so cute

watching you rub your clit really gets him going

fuckboy!caleb on the phone to one of his flings from the academy while he's fucking his meimei senseless

he needs you close to him, it's a must when he's bearing all of himself to you after so many years of pretending

caleb is just obsessed with your tits, always has been

recording so he can send the videos to one of your pathetic ex flings that was blowing up your phone so he can show them that no one fucks you better than your gege

car sex because he really couldn't wait five minutes until you got home

he thinks the way you gag on his cock is the hottest fucking thing

© ffiolette

[love13tter]

fav caleb xia fics bc im a lover girl ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

art is by 绝世西瓜 (xhs id 117998996) ˚ . ⊹ ⋆

im a certified baby apple girl Ok i know what i like & whats good so i will kindly share these to the world!! this is for my caleb lovers and pseudocest enjoyers

psa i refer to caleb w nicknames like colonel silly / silly / apple boy etc !! in case ur confused lol ,, ♡ are my absolute favs !! ,,

(,,>﹏<,,) ao3 fics

sugar pit by knightjpg

9.6k words, pseudo-incest, more sex leaning, angry angsty mc at caleb & colonel silly cant bring himself to get angry (i love him)

rotary devotion by kirketeer ♡

35.1k words, very poetry esque, my kind of devotion (aka kinda scary type!!! wanting to live in his skin, being near him/skin touching not being enough etc), sooo angsty from silly’s pov, dont read this if u dont want to be hit with an intense amount of sadness and worry (affectionately)

he ain’t heavy (he’s my—) by kirketeer ♡

8.3k, REALLY poetry esque (so my fav fic by default!), dunno how to explain but the metaphors towards caleb & reader being synonyms + antonyms is making my head spin, dynamic is sooo sweet! kirketeer is a rly good world builder so ure immediately in it all the way (which i love)

the taste of a forbidden fruit (i offer you my heart, bruised and bitten) series by luvl3ss ,, my favs below

> ikaw lang: 1k words, caleb is still caleb, reminds me of this one quote abt how loving someone is having to grieve every version of them :’)

> extra thin!: 0.5k words, apple slicing prefs, really short but its just as sweet as that first bite of a perfect apple slice :P

origin: sine qua non series by tinylethologica ,, favs below

> footprints underneath a pulse storm ♡ 11.111 words (i HAD TO !!! its perfect), based off his deceptive solitude card ^__^ aka the gun cleaning one w the towel barely hanging on around his waist and his v line showing mmmmfffppjhhhh, dynamic is so good they banter SO YUMMILY, caleb and reader being panty sniffers i know thats right!, the sex is a bit milder — it focuses more on dialogue and thats exactly my kind of smut i love it so bad, also um um gun play Nods head. sucking the gun … him fucking reader w the gun uh huh okay that says enough right

> calomel in libation: 4.1k words, caleb knows u better than anyone else (even urself), he eats u out, kinda crazy how he just knows that reader needs to be eaten out after all the stress…. ugh such husband material wheres the ring!!

drive you insane by soarinapple

10.4k words, IM SHAKING omgomgomg SPANKING fic!!!!!! oh hell yeah, he spanks her she counts and thanks him and it goes on sooo long u almost feel it on your bum too </3 oh i wish that was me, aftercare scenes included too ! its so good

(..◜ᴗ◝..) tumblr fics

quick psa i read more incestuous things / heavy topics here so be warned! pls ignore or dont interact if u dont like <3

my love, my alibi by prettyboykatsuki

23.3k words, pseudocest (HEAVY. if u dont like it dont interact!!), im gonna be so real rn and just say this has to be my fav fic w the incestuous theme cause this is just ALL about that dynamic between them. growing up together but the lines blur as you grow up and suddenly someone youve always seen as ur brother is hot and u realise he takes care of you more than a brother should, caleb knows u but also. not? idk all i remember is that him cumming in you felt more romantic than it should be

spilled sweetness by piroulinewafers

2k words, pseucocest (heavy), watersports!!!!!!! this is piss focused lol!!! he checks ur bladder thru ur meow meow..... (yummy), kinda crazy kinda not . its kinky for sure esp w the pseudocest theme ...

drabbles by piroulinewafers

> married reader & caleb + jealousy (from reader) 2.4k words

> vv submissive reader & the sweeeeeetest dom caleb ever. he takes care of u when u cant do it urself 1.5k words

drabble (1) by yukinohiko

0.3k words, caleb faking his amnesia (hes so silly), reader/mc being a freak ofcourse and immediately taking advantage of it LOL but the dialogue is the most important part of this fic!!!, analogies of their love bla bla bla, gege & meimei use <3

drabble (2) by yukinohiko ♡

0.5k words, apple boy just loves you so much. it doesnt matter if u hate him or get angry hes so patient sobs, baby (reader) doesnt mean it!!!! she gets so sad when she realises what she did, gege usage, very sweet reader shes so cute in this...

the colonel's saint (part 2 of the colonel's keeper) by saintobio

9.8k words, im not even gonna sugarcoat it part one made me so uncomfy after reading it cause it was GUTWRENCHING in the best way possible!!!!!, the writing was superb but the entire situation made me feel so icky... i cant reread it like i usually do but i could w the second part!!! reader kinda gets her redemption, the last bits were so bittersweet im happy but also not

so fucking domestic by kutepik

1.2k words, hes so cuuuuteeee!!!!! theyre both cute icl, sex whenever and wherever in the house is soo domestic, just very adorbs im gonna eat them Both

[chezeni]

Caleb would, without a doubt, continue trying until he has a daughter with you.

It doesn’t matter how long it takes, or how many tries it takes. If you’re okay with it, he’s more than willing to pounce on you to make the most of your ovulation week.

Those attempts would mean that in the long run, the two of you would bring three sons into the world, each of whom, comically enough, was an exact little copy of their father with the most minuscule hints of you.

Your oldest, Theo, was born about two years after your marriage. He had Caleb’s sunset eyes and facial structure, only taking after you in the colour of your hair. He took pride in caring for his younger brothers and was proudly Caleb’s right-hand man in smaller tasks where he needed assistance. Both refused to let you help around the house when they were there.

A year later, you had Jamie, who had your eyes but resembled Caleb in all other aspects—hair, nose, etc.

Then came your youngest son, Reian, a year after Jamie—a quiet two-year-old who was Caleb’s exact copy. At his birth, Caleb had looked up at you with a soft grin as he’d cradled the baby against his muscled chest.

“Seems like third time isn’t the charm, honey, your genes just can’t beat mine.” He’d murmured teasingly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as the nurse sent him a side-eye.

Now, with the kids at six, five and four respectively, you and Caleb tried for one more.

While he loves his sons with his whole heart and would kill for them at a moment’s notice, he never stopped thinking about how precious it would be to have a little you running around your expansive home in Skyhaven.

With all the noise his boys cause, it felt strange to think about how there’d been a time when it was just him living alone in this very house. It wasn’t ’ 'til you’d moved in with him, thawed away at his frozen aerospace militant heart slowly that the place felt more homey.

Still, the house felt… lacking to Caleb. It was too skewed at one gender while poor you had to deal with your three—four, if you count your almost equally childish husband—boys.

Caleb had made sure each of his sons was dutiful and kindhearted, especially towards their mama. Still, there was a light-hearted culture of jest in the house, since they’d unfortunately inherited Caleb’s terrible sense of humour, and it was mostly peaceful unless they’d planned otherwise, like when the three thought it’d be hilarious to march one by one into your bedroom after dividing Caleb’s Fleet uniform amongst each other and yell like drill sergeants to wake you up.

But during the night, when it was just the two of you behind a locked door and hands over the other’s mouth, he caught himself acting on certain rumours he’d heard that would supposedly make a girl. Be it a certain position, or whispering some kind of prayer into your ear during the act. It’d surprised him, having never been superstitious in his life but now resorting to old wives’ tales with little feasible evidence behind them.

You’d giggled when he’d shared it with you one night as he treated you to a snack and some water, holding you against his chest and murmuring into your hair. “Maybe you’re getting old.” You laughed softly. “I’ve only ever seen old ladies believing in things like that, my love.”

He scoffed softly, smiling down at you. “Don’t you also want a girl? The boys are lovely, sweetheart, and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but a cute little girl.” He pouts. “I just know she’d be so adorable, honey.”

Whatever it was that Caleb had tried to do, it’d somehow worked. Not even a year later, you welcomed a daughter into the house, and Caleb’s years-long wish had come true oh, so perfectly. He was bad enough during the pregnancy when you’d found out you were having a girl at about 20 weeks, but now that she was here? You’d have to pry that sweet little ball of cuteness away from him with a crowbar the way he’d insisted on holding her all the time.

He was ecstatic, and how could he not be? His little angel had her mother’s nose, a full head of slightly wavy hair and his eyes. One look at her and he’d cried for days, even more so when she finally came home with you.

“Thank you, honey. She’s so sweet to me already, and so adorable. Our boys are adorable too but—” He pauses, looking down at her in awe when she yawns softly, an exaggerated pout over his lips as he looks down at her comfortably curled up on his chest. “Oh, my sweet baby girl.”

…And when you did try to take her from him?

“N-no! Please! Wait two more minutes.” He begged softly, gently kissing her little forehead. So dramatic, you thought, smiling fondly. After Ailea was born, she’d stolen Caleb’s heart, and it was difficult to take her back into your arms to feed her when Caleb refused to let her go. “She doesn’t look hungry to me, honey, I think you’re just trying to steal my little angel from me.“

“She’s my baby too…”

But he’d already turned back to little Ailea, once more engrossed in his daughter’s cute giggles. “You’re okay, my sweet girl, aren’t you? My perfect angel doesn’t even fuss like her stinky brothers did.”

“Hey!” Came a resounding protest from the living room. Caleb smiles. “They know I love them just as much.” He murmurs to Ailea.

[m1sanari]

"Let me have a taste."

Caleb thirsts for you. 

Imagine years of him not being able to cross that line between best friends and lovers, because he doesn’t want to scare you off, nor end up on your bad side– But when you crossed that line first? 

You best believe he is insatiable.

“Want you.” He mumbles against your skin. Hot, needy, filthy, as his hands dip to your back, grabbing a handful of your ass as he hoists you up on the kitchen counter. “Need you.” He almost growls, lips heated against yours. It's messy, it's needy, teeth moving against each other as your hands tug off his dress shirt and his hands pull down your pants. Your hands explore the hard muscles underneath, his lips moving from your lips to your jaw and to your neck.

“Need to taste you.” Caleb groans, eyes focused on you, on the way your lips form an ‘O’, the way your eyes glaze over in need. You gasp, Caleb’s teeth nipping at the skin of your neck, and he lowers his head, trailing hot kisses down your collarbone, your stomach and his hands rest on your thighs, spreading your legs. 

He’s on his knees, his gaze on you sends shivers down your spin, and he kisses the flesh of your inner thighs before he bites, and you whine. 

“Will you let me, pips?” His voice is low, cautious and full of heat, and his hair brushes against your thigh. “Will you let me have a taste?” You can feel his breath against your needy cunt and you nod, chest filled with anticipation. He nips again, “Words, pips.” 

“Yes.” You let out a gasp as his hands move your panties aside, lips already sucking, licking and kissing your pussy. “Oh- Caleb-”  Your hands move to grip his hair, and your head lolls back, a moan falling out of your lips.

He’s slurping and lapping at your cunt, absolutely thirsting for you, shamelessly moaning against your puffy clit. 

You let him have a taste, and now, he won’t let you go until he has his fill.

[authorscurse]

Tw: murder, blood, thoughts about getting in prison, yandere!Caleb, yandere!reader, disposing of bodies, police looking for a missing person, reader mentioned to be wearing a dress, reader thinks Caleb is going to break up with her, slight angst??.

You knew Caleb was possessive and jealous from the start. It wasn't something you just found out months into your relationship. No, you've known it even when you both were still friends. Your friends told you Caleb displayed an unhealthy obsession towards you. They told you about the way he'll glare and sometimes even get physical with others who he thought took interest in you.

"Break up with him that's so toxic"

"He's not good for you"

"Imagine what he would do to you! If he could get physical with others, what about with you?"

They told you to end things with him, that he's toxic. You would if you were them, but the thing is, you loved it. You loved the way he'll get so possessive and jealous because to you, it showed you that he is crazy for you and only you.

Or maybe because he's just like you.

You didn't know what got over you. It was as if your brain had turned itself off, and all you could remember was blood. The pristine white rug that you had beg Caleb to buy you has been stained with red crimson liquid.

You stared at the lifeless body of a woman that you had invited into your home for tea. Blood has stained your hands and the dress that Caleb gifted you just recently.

The air was suffocating you and your mind was racing. What do you do? How do you hide this from caleb? How do you dispose of a body without anyone knowing? Without the police knowing?

You're supposed to be at work right now yet you're here. You have 2 hours to dispose of the body before Caleb comes back home. You know you should be moving right now instead of staring at the body laying on your rug.

The rug. How are you going to explain the rug to Caleb?

Your train of thought was interrupted as you heard the front door opening. Was that Caleb? What if it's the neighbour? How are you going to tell them about the body? Or maybe it's the police? How could they have known that you have a dead body in your home so fast?

You heard the key turn and realize it's Caleb. But it still doesn't help! Caleb would see the body! What if he'll be disgusted at the sight of it and realize how crazy you are! That you killed an innocent woman! But she was flirting with Caleb! She was eyeing him up so seductively and the way she tried to get him away from you! She isn't innocent! She tried to take your Caleb away!

Once Caleb opened the door and found you sitting across a dead body in the living room. His eyes went to the body then back to you then back to the body then back to you then— yeah...

Tears gathered in your eyes and were threatening to flow down your face. You stare at Caleb's face and shock was on his face. He's definitely breaking up with you now.

"Caleb—" you start but your lips wobble and tears flow nonstop down your face. "Oh, pipsqueak," Caleb immediately runs towards you and crouches down to embrace your shaking form. "I-im so sorry I don't know what happened it was all so fast and then it just happened I don't know what to do—" you babble out an explanation but you couldn't form an coherent sentence without sobbing and stuttering.

"I'm so so sorry—"

"Shhh, it's okay, baby."

Your hold onto Caleb tightens as you sob into his shoulder, soaking his colonel uniform with tears and snot but Caleb couldn't care.

He wiped away the tears that wouldn't stop flowing down your cheeks and kissed your forehead oh so gently. How could he still show affection to such a horrible killer. "It's okay, did she hurt you?" Caleb asked, concerned and tried to search for any shown injuries. You shook your head no and sobbed, your cries dying down subtly.

"How about you go upstairs and clean yourself up for me, darling? Get all comfy and clean, yeah? I'll clean things down here okay? You go relax," Caleb said softly, ushering you upstairs to the bathroom.

As soon as he made sure you were okay, he walked back downstairs and prepared to take care of the body in your living room. While moving the woman he started to notice her features and realized who she was. She's the cadet that tried to make a move on him not so long ago. He could vividly remember how she touched him and made inappropriate jokes and comments about him during a party at skyhaven.

Caleb grinned at the thought that you had done such an act because of that. Oh his sweet innocent girlfriend is not so innocent at all.

Once the body and the mess has been disposed he went back up to check on you. You were sitting on your shared bed, wrapped in your soft pink robe, your hair wet, and your cheeks and eyes still slightly red from all the crying.

"Hey pipsqueak, you alright?" Your eyes widened when you saw Caleb. Your lips start quivering again but Caleb was quick to come over you and kiss you gently. "Why haven't you dressed? You'll get cold, baby," he told you with a soft voice as he kissed your cheeks and forehead.

You nodded and was about to get up but Caleb beat you to it. He made you sit back down as you watched him pick out your clothes. He chosen your silk nightwear and even helped you put it on.

"You okay now, baby?" Caleb asked and you nodded looking up at him with wide eyes. "A-are you going to b-break up with me?" You asked, your voice laced with fear and worry. Caleb's eyes softened at your question and cupped your cheeks with both hands and kissed you softly on the lips. "No, never," he assured you and you could only nod at his words.

That night you slept soundly knowing that Caleb was there to protect and care for you no matter what. In just a span of days you completely forgot all that happened. Your rug was quickly replaced leaving no reminder of the incident.

Caleb never told you that then police dropped by recently to ask about a missing person. No need to stress or worry you. Caleb never told you where or how he disposed of the body, he just assured you it was all taken care of and you shouldn't worry about anything and that you did.

Now, everything was back to normal and Caleb love knowing his girlfriend whom he know would hurt a fly had a much darker side of her. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Knowing he was just the same. That if he had to, he'll kill for you too. But he already has. You don't have to know that he disposed 2 bodies that night. Or that his uniform had smudged of blood that was there even before he hugged your bloodied form.

He loves you and he knows now how much you love him too.

[icarusignite]

the sickness you foster, your favourite addictions (p.2)

Pairing: Colonel Caleb Xia x Non-MC Reader

Summary: After your brother was killed under the command of newly appointed Colonel Caleb Xia, you swore you'd never forgive the man who returned from the mission when your brother did not. But when you're forcibly reassigned as his second-in-command, you're pulled into a cold war of secrets and bloodstained power plays.

Assigned to spy on the colonel by the same institution that decorated your brother's grave with empty honours, you find yourself caught between two monsters, one who watches from above, and one who stands too close. But there's more to Caleb than perceived cruelty. He’s calculating, obsessive, and far too interested in what lies beneath your controlled fury. The closer you get, the more you begin to wonder: Is this grief? Hatred? Or the start of something far darker?

Warnings: Caleb being a FREAK. Yandere vibes. Angst? Mentions of violence and injury. SLOWBURN. Enemies to lovers. Caleb being a yearner.

Word Count: 5.6

A/N: MC is not a love interest here; she's just a person of interest to him, but more in a little sister/childhood friend way.

I always think these fics will be one chapter long, but unfortunately, I am a yapper and will need a part 3 to properly conclude this without rushing, lol. Sorry for the excessive rambling lol.

Also, thank you so much for all the lovely comments on the previous chapter. I would love to hear yalls thoughts on this one too <3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | AO3

Caleb Xia had not come to the Farspace Fleet to make connections. He was not there to be liked or to get distracted. He had a mission, and more importantly, he had her to protect.

Even now, across the stars, across the politics and distance, the only thing that ever managed to rattle the precision of his focus was her. The girl he'd left behind in Linkon City. The girl who used to trail behind him like a second shadow, demanding attention in the way only someone utterly confident in their place in your heart ever could. She was his tether to a version of himself that didn't kill without pause.

She thought he was dead now, and maybe, in some ways, that was true. The version of him she loved had died on purpose, buried beneath classified reports and staged incidents to protect her. That's why Caleb kept his distance from everyone who wasn't her, unwilling to let anyone live in the space between his ribs, a place that was reserved for her and her alone. 

It had been easy enough until he met your brother. 

They'd been classmates at the aerospace academy, and while others sought to climb the hierarchy, your brother was foolishly earnest. He lacked ambition, sure, but he never lacked drive. He threw himself into every assignment like it mattered, even when it didn't. He laughed at things Caleb didn't think were funny. He saluted too fast, grinned too wide, and never once stopped talking.

It had annoyed Caleb at first until he realized why. Your brother reminded him of the girl he'd left behind. The same wide-eyed intensity. The same unapologetic need to prove themselves in a world that wanted them smaller. The same way they loved too loudly. 

Caleb had been even more surprised to see your brother again when he joined the Farspace Fleet. Not because he wasn't capable, but because he didn't have the edge it took to survive such an institution. 

Yet your brother remained a sincere fool, even when senior officers tore into the new recruits. He wasn't like the others, scrambling for promotion, slicing through their peers for a chance to rise. When Caleb made Colonel, he congratulated him, but laughed off any future attempts of his own to be promoted. 

"Colonel's not for me," he'd said. "The hours are shit. Can't spend time with the people you care about if you're chained to duty all day."

It should have irritated Caleb, but it only made his chest ache because it reminded him of her. That was exactly something MC would have said if she'd seen his atrocious hours, right before reprimanding him for not taking care of himself. So he let your brother reprimand him in her stead, allowing him close because it was familiar. MC thought he was dead and she'd never again tell him to stay hydrated or get enough sleep, so if all he had was a pale imitation of her concern, he'd take it. 

And then there were the stories about you.

He didn't know your name at first. Just "my sister" this and "my sister" that. Your brother could never shut up about you. Your brilliance. Your grades. The way you once rebuilt your home's broken heater by hand at fifteen, and the way you were always right.

Caleb didn't have the luxury to care about other people's families when he was trying so hard to protect the fragments of his own, but your name—you—slipped through all his defences, even before he'd seen your face. 

Your brother brought you up during drills, after lectures, even once during a brutal training session. During long study nights at the academy, when everyone else was cracking under the pressure of orbital physics equations, he would groan dramatically and say, "If my sister were here, she'd have done this with her eyes closed and still have time to fix the coffee machine." 

You were his benchmark and his gold standard. Caleb never encouraged it, but your brother offered you up anyway, story after story, painting you as brilliant, stubborn, terrifyingly competent, and always just out of reach. 

Every mention of you was laced with that fierce, protective admiration that siblings often carry without knowing how to name it. This also reminded Caleb of MC. The way she had once looked at him, as if he hung the constellations in the sky and his presence alone could bend the world into safety.

Somehow, in that mirroring affection, he found a fragile comfort. If your brother loved you the way MC once loved him, then perhaps—even in death—he would remain with her. In memory and in grief. If she missed him even half as much as your brother missed you during mere office hours, then Caleb would never truly be gone.

His interest in you began innocently, if such a word could ever apply to a man like him. At first, he only meant to put a face to the name. You had been spoken of far too often, your name bleeding through lips not just belonging to your brother but from seasoned officers with enough awe in their voices to catch his attention.

The first time he saw you, it was in passing, just before some minor routine mission. It was the kind of operation he could run blindfolded with half his team asleep, and most of his fellow pilots were lounging lazily until you walked in. 

You came in with no regard for the chain of command, and you didn't even glance at anyone else there. As far as you were concerned, your brother was the only person in that room worth your time.

You shoved a slim booklet toward him with a force only a sibling could weaponize and hissed, "Do you ever check your loadout before you leave, or do you plan to flirt with death every time?"

Your brother stammered out some excuse involving drills, but you weren't having it. You were the very image of exasperated affection, your hands already busy fishing out something from your pocket before he could finish, slapping a fistful of brightly wrapped candies into his hand unceremoniously. Caleb recognized the brand to be the same that your brother used to favour during their academy days, and the expression on your face reminded him of himself, back when he was still in MC's life. 

Back in high school, she used to forget her homework on the kitchen table more days than not, and it always fell on him to realize halfway through the commute. He'd groan, scold her for her airheadedness, and then sprint back, muttering curses under his breath, only to return with it in hand before the first bell. Every time, she'd beam at him like he'd saved her from death itself, and every time, he'd roll his eyes and call her a menace.

That was the face you wore now, and it pierced Caleb's armour in a way no weapon ever could.

You didn't even know he was watching, and when your gaze swept past him, it was with complete dismissal, like his presence was little more than background noise. But Caleb stared long after you left.

In you, he saw the version of himself he thought he'd buried with his past, something old and human stirring within him, despite his resistance. He had to know more about you, spurred on with the kind of need that pressed cold fingers to the base of his spine. The kind that made men like him start wars.

Unfortunately for him, you rarely left your sector of the base, and running into you was a rarity, except for when your team had to present projects. During these presentations, you were even more dazzling. You held the attention of the room with practiced confidence, answering even the most intrusive of inquiries with maddening calm. It seemed that nothing could ruffle your feathers, but that didn't stop Caleb from imagining he could do it. 

As he rose through the ranks, he earned clearance, and among the dozens of surveillance camera footasge available to his all-seeing eyes, he made sure yours was pinned. Your workshop. Your hallway. Your sector's elevators. He never told himself it was wrong, because how could it be? It wasn't interfering with your productivity, and what you didn't know wouldn't hurt you. 

Caleb's favourite thing was to watch you work, his monitors lighting his dark quarters like altars in the dead of night. On screen, you were bent over your workbench, welding sparks haloing your face like tiny suns, sweat glistening at your temple. You muttered to yourself when your calculations didn't align, tongue pressed to the inside of your cheek in frustration. You were beautiful in the way that comets were—all fire and trajectory and no apology.

When a single lock of your hair would slip free from the practical knot you usually wore it in, his composure would unravel. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach through the screen, like they could slip between time and space and brush it aside. Just one touch, enough to feel the heat of your skin beneath his knuckles. Just to tuck the strand of hair behind your ear and feel you lean into him, even if you didn't mean to.

When you began to hum absentmindedly, he wanted to press his fingertips to the hollow of your throat and feel the echo of your voice, to learn your tone not by sound but by vibration. It was worse when he imagined the shape your throat would make when you finally said his name. Would you say it like a curse or a prayer? How would your muscles shift as you formed the unfamiliar syllables? 

Caleb wanted to be closer. Close enough to feel the warmth of your breath against his collar, to count the heartbeats you lost when you forgot to eat, to feel the trembling in your wrists when you hadn't slept. Close enough to dismantle you, and rebuild you again.

And all the while, you went about your work, unaware that somewhere, someone was memorizing the shape of you, thinking about sliding his fingers down the curve of your spine just to feel the rigid tension of your posture melt beneath his touch.

Caleb knew everything there was to know about you, and in his own way, he intervened when necessary. He kept your records off promotions lists that would take you away from the base, and vetoed transfers you never even knew were proposed. He made sure those who disrespected you—the overconfident officers who burst into your lab and barked orders like you weren't twice as qualified—disappeared.

It didn't matter that you rejected the advances of the men who dared flirt. Didn't matter that you shut them down with a frown and a tone sharp enough to cut steel. What mattered was that they'd tried. They thought they could have you, and that was transgression enough.

He did it all from the shadows, but he never approached you, because the fantasy of you was safer. Fantasy didn't challenge, or bite, or bleed. In the safety of his mind, you were his, and it made sense to him. After all, Caleb had never been allowed to keep the things he loved, but he could watch them. He could protect them from a distance, even if that distance was laced with hunger, and every part of him itched to close it.

After your brother died, his fixation on you became a wildfire, no longer contained or rational, if it ever had been. Before, it had been something he could lie to himself about. Curiosity. Admiration. Surveillance under the pretense of strategy. A whisper of the past wrapped in the present. 

But afterwards, something shifted. The world tilted, and suddenly, you were the only thread left between who he'd once been and what he had become.

The mission itself had gone fine. If there was one thing Caleb prided himself on, it was the absence of chaos. But after the vessel landed and the debrief ended, he noticed the data sync hadn't completed. A minor bug, one he should've handled himself. Then your stupidly eager brother had offered to stay behind and transfer the log, and Caleb had let him. 

That was the mistake. The only mistake that mattered. The explosion was timed and deliberate, meant for him, but it was your brother who died, torn apart inside the very cockpit Caleb should have occupied.

There was no undoing it, and no violent retribution would bring him back.

He debated going to the funeral. Not out of grief—though the grief was there—but because he wasn't sure he could face you. 

He had constructed a hundred scenarios in his head for how he might finally speak to you. Maybe you'd brush past him in the corridor and offer a nod. Maybe you'd be assigned to consult with him on a project. Maybe, one day, you'd even look at him with something softer than indifference.

But when the time finally came for you to register his presence, it was with naked loathing. It rendered Caleb almost breathless. There was no distance now, no screen between you, and you saw him for what he was. The man who had let your brother die. The man who should have died instead. 

Gods, you were right. You should have spit on his boots and screamed in his face, but all you did was stand silently, clutching a box of medals like they were an insult.

Caleb didn't remember much of the service. Just a hollow eulogy, and the way the wind tugged at the strands of your hair—the same strands he had once ached to brush away from your neck with careful fingers.

How absurd that he'd dreamed of your smile. That he imagined you saying his name. That he thought he could meet you and not burn.

You hated him, and perhaps that was the most honest thing he'd ever earned.

When you were transferred to serve as his second-in-command, he hadn't seen it coming, and that alone was cause for alarm.

Caleb prided himself on always being five steps ahead—of his enemies, his superiors, and whatever machinations brewed behind the curtain of Farspace politics. When his previous second-in-command vanished mid-cycle, grievously injured during an unsanctioned mission, he knew then, someone was moving pieces behind his back. Someone wanted eyes on him.

He braced for a spy of some sort, but what he did not expect to see was you standing in his doorway and reporting for duty, his title tumbling from your lips as if pulled from one of his daydreams. You were here, and you were his. The one person he had watched for far too long had been handed to him practically gift-wrapped. 

The sane thing would have been to have you transferred. He knew your presence was a trap, and it would be easier to slaughter the person sent to spy on him if they weren't you. But when faced with your beautifully sharpened hate, Caleb found he liked it. Craved it, even.

You were finally looking at him. Not as a faceless officer in a crowd, but as him. Your body tensed every time he walked past, and though you pretended you weren't watching him during briefings, he caught your eyes flickering to him too fast, your scowl deepening when he gave an order you didn't like.

You were hyperaware of him, and that was a gift he would not squander.

No more watching you through flickering security feeds late into the night. You were in his presence every hour of the day now. He could trace the arch of your fingers as you delivered status reports, brush his hand against yours when passing datapads, and lean over your shoulder to review schematics under the guise of work.

You thought he gave you the menial tasks to humiliate you, but really, he did it to keep you by his side longer, so that you wouldn't scurry off to your workshop the moment you were finished. And of course, he liked to watch your lips curl around protests. To see how long you could last before that temper of yours finally snapped. 

When you started sabotaging his systems, he said nothing. Others would have been disciplined or stripped of rank, but since it was you, he let things slide. Every time he uncovered one of your petty tricks, he didn't reprimand you. Instead, the corner of his mouth lifted, very nearly resembling a smile.

If you were plotting revenge, you were thinking of him. Pacing your quarters, teeth gnashing, deciding how best to needle him next. In that way, he was inhabiting your thoughts just as thoroughly as you had overtaken his own.

If you kept hating him, it meant he mattered to you, and until you were ready to admit it was something more, he would keep feeding the flames, one slow, inevitable coffee order at a time. As long as you kept fighting him, he would let you believe you had the upper hand. In his head, it was all foreplay, and Caleb Xia was endlessly, agonizingly patient.

He hadn't meant for the confrontation in your workshop to go this far. Caleb's initial intention was to simply remind you who you were dealing with. To let you know that he was aware of your juvenile attempts to undermine his authority with rescheduled debriefs and misplaced files. He hadn't expected to lose his composure. 

But then you'd opened your mouth and spoken aloud the accusation that had been brewing in you for weeks. You'd said the words that had haunted him since the moment your brother's body was dragged from the wreckage. 

"All you do is get people killed."

Something inside Caleb fractured, and his Evol surged forward. His hands were in your hair before he could think better of it, threaded through with enough pressure to keep you grounded, but you refused to look away. He was sure to use the arm of his that still had sensation, just so he could feel the heat of your skin, despite the gloves.

He had wanted to do this for so long, even if it was all wrong now. To brush your hair behind your ear, just to hear you snarl. To run his thumb across your lips and see what you'd do—bite him, maybe. To press his palm to the base of your throat to feel your voice catch.

In all his fantasies, when he imagined you kneeling before him, this wasn't how it was supposed to be. You were supposed to be willing. Supplicant not out of force, but from need. Your eyes were supposed to be affectionate, not seething. Your lips parted in surrender, not to curse him.

Instead, you spat poison and accused him of letting the other officers humiliate you. Caleb almost laughed at that, the sound clawing its way up his throat, and dying before it reached his mouth.

You really didn't know, did you?

Did you not realize it was never the same officer twice? That each one who dared to sneer at you vanished? Shipped off, demoted, blacklisted, sent into deepspace assignments with low return rates. Every insult you endured was a death sentence for the man who dealt it. 

Caleb protected you, and you dared to say that he let them humiliate you? You dared to question his abilities when it was you who was the traitor. 

When he mentioned the Admiral, the words corroded his tongue. That old man had always been a problem, and though Caleb had tried to handle it, he was far more influential than some mouthy officer. Untouchable, for now. So every report he received of you slipping into Harkins' office made his jaw ache. Every minute you spent alone with that leech fanned a flame beneath his skin he couldn't smother. And worse, you dared to lie to him about it, like he didn't already know everything there was to know about you. 

The sight of your bleeding palm was another distraction. You didn't fight when he reached out, but your expression was taut with disdain. Coldness spread across your face like a sheet of ice, so detached it might have been a mask, and that made something hideous twist low in his gut.

He had wanted another expression. Any expression. He needed a reaction; a spark of something that proved you were still with him in this room.

That's why he pressed his thumb into the wound, catching the resultant tears that fell from your eyes with something akin to satisfaction, because it confirmed the fact that you could still cry, that there was a flicker of something real and human under that armour you wore like a second skin. He was gentle, but not like a lover. He was simply a man starving for proof that he still existed in your world at all.

Then, without hesitation, his fingers rose to his mouth. The warmth of your blood lingered on his tongue like an oath, and when he pressed his lips together, the blood marked them crimson. It was unholy, and it was yours. The taste of you. Iron and salt. Heat and hate.

He hadn't planned it, but it felt right. To wear it in a way that made your pain now a part of him, bound beneath skin and instinct. If he could not reach you with words, then maybe he could with this strange intimacy carved from grief, proximity, and ruin.

Caleb wondered if you could feel what he felt. That pull in the air, strung taut between need and unspoken obsession. He wondered if you could hear the way your name echoed in his chest like a drumbeat.

Eventually, he let go, and the moment he released his Evol, you collapsed like a marionette cut from its strings. For a moment, he felt sick at the sight of it. The betrayed look in your eyes was one he wasn't prepared for, and it struck him deeper than your words ever could have.

Was that guilt?

Hatred is better than indifference.

He clung to that notion like a creed. If your stomach twisted every time he entered the room, it meant you were thinking of him. If you loathed him, then he hadn't vanished from your mind entirely. But somewhere between your shuddering breaths and the faint shimmer of your tears, that fragile truth began to sour. 

Caleb's selfish, traitorous heart wanted more. He wanted your voice to be softer. Your gaze steady, not guarded. He wanted to offer his hand and not see you recoil like it burned. He wanted—no, he needed something kinder than this war he'd created.

Every time he reached for you with whatever twisted shape his affection had taken, it drove you further away. You looked at him like he was monstrous, and maybe he was. But once, long ago, before the Fleet and the mission and the burden of who he had to become, he had been someone else. A version of himself that maybe you could have loved.

Why did everything precious slip through his fingers?

When he left, he lingered just outside the threshold of your domain, his back pressed to the wall. The door that sealed behind him was not soundproof, and he didn't have to wait too long before he heard the whimpers break free from you like a wound tearing open.

It wasn't graceful or quiet. It was devastating. You were trying so hard to keep it in. You always tried so hard to be strong. Now he was the reason you were falling apart.

Caleb closed his eyes and listened. He should have left, but he stayed rooted in place, willing himself not to return to you. Not to cradle your face in his palms and wipe away the tears that he had caused. Not to kneel beside you and whisper apologies he didn't know how to make real.

You deserved tenderness, but all he gave you was ruin.

The next day, Caleb you long before you burst into his office. He didn't even need to look up, because the storm of your footfalls had become as familiar to him as the beat of his own heart.

When the doors hissed open, your presence charged the air, and you didn't even bother with the usual pretense of a knock. Certainly not after last night.

"Why have I just been informed that I'm off for the rest of the week?"

Caleb leaned back in his chair, deliberately unhurried, savouring the defiance in your eyes. "You had vacation days. I thought now would be a good time to take them. Considering your... recent state of overwork." 

"As if you—"

"Well, we wouldn't want you to mess up now, would we? Better for you to rest." His eyes flicked meaningfully to your bandaged hand, and then to the dark shadows blooming beneath your eyes. 

You took a step forward, seething. "You can't just force me to take days off."

"Actually, I can. I am your superior."

"I have projects to attend to. Work that isn't just mine. I'm part of a team. If I disappear for a week, it stalls everything."

"That's unfortunate. They'll survive."

"Oh, please, do not pretend to care."

He froze at that, his mouth tightening as if you'd shoved a lemon between his teeth. "I'm not pretending. You need a break, and I'm making sure you get one."

"You're making sure?" you repeated bitterly. "Don't act like I'm your responsibility."

"Aren't you?" 

The silence between you sharpened, and you glared at him. "You are out of line, even as my superior."

"And you are exhausted," he countered. "You haven't slept in weeks, and you're obviously too proud to admit your body is falling apart, so I did what I had to do."

"Oh," you breathed furiously, "so this is concern now? Is that what we're calling it?"

"Call it whatever you like. Forgive me for trying to ensure my second in command remains in good health so I don't have to go through the trouble of looking for yet another replacement."

That made you laugh, and it was a joyless sound. "You've got some nerve, Colonel. You think giving me a few days off is some kind of gift? You think it makes up for everything else?"

Caleb studied your face as if he could carve the truth from your bones.

"You don't get a say in when I take days off," you snapped. 

"I do actually. I get a say in every schedule, every assignment, every time you're summoned or dismissed. That's the hierarchy."

You looked like you wanted to slap him, and briefly, he hoped you would, because then you'd be touching him. Unfortunately for him, you took a step backward instead, putting more distance between the two of you. 

"Do you have any actual work for me today?" you asked through gritted teeth. "Or would you like me to catalogue lightbulbs again?"

Caleb's lips twitched in amusement, already imagining your displeasure at what he'd arranged. "As it happens, there's a batch of records that need cross-referencing. Inconsistencies in pilot logs from last quarter. It all needs to be sorted and compiled."

"You're giving me filing duty?"

"Digital record consolidation. It is vital for the Fleet's progress."

"You want me to sit in a chair and comb through logs."

"You're most welcome to stand and do it." Caleb shrugged. "Regardless, it should require minimal physical strain. You can even keep that hand elevated if you like."

You narrowed your eyes. "I am not a data clerk."

"You're whatever I say you are." 

"This is punishment, then?" You curled your lips in disdain. "You behave inappropriately and invade people's privacy, and I'm the one who gets punished. Fantastic."

An odd expression flashed in Caleb's eyes, equal parts regret and irritation. "This is me showing restraint. If I gave you no task at all, I know exactly where you'd run off to."

He watched you storm out without another word, the heat of your resentment still lingering. He meant to speak gently this morning. Maybe even offer you a reprieve you could believe was your own choice. Instead, he'd defaulted to callous commands, the only language he truly knew.

He told himself it was to keep you safe, but the truth was uglier. He felt guilty. That wasn't a word he often allowed himself; it served no tactical purpose. Guilt was sentiment, and sentiment got soldiers killed. But last night he'd crossed a line. Several, in fact. 

He had only wanted to see if he could break you the way you kept threatening to break him. That much he could admit. But he'd ended up hurting you more than intended, not just with his Evol, but with the things he'd said, the way he'd dragged grief out of you and twisted it until it mirrored his own. He didn't realize the severity of it until he'd heard you cry out, but your sobs had left bruises on the walls of his mind.

It should've satisfied him, but it didn't. And when you were back to pretending everything was fine this morning, he couldn't stand it. 

The task he'd assigned to you served multiple functions. It kept you off your feet, gave your body a break from the pressure you refused to acknowledge, and it kept you close. Through the walls, he could listen for your pacing and track every frustrated mutter coming from the office adjacent to his.

Mostly, it was his version of a peace offering.

By the end of the day, Caleb was done with your silence. He'd summoned you three times today, but you never responded. There had been no snarky remarks through the comms or passive-aggressive delay. Just absence. 

You were never like this. Usually, you bristled like a cornered animal and followed orders through gritted teeth, but today felt different. He tried to convince himself it was fine. You were doing the task assigned to you, but the way you'd stormed out of his office earlier had stirred something restless in him, and it wouldn't let him sit still.

So, several hours later, Caleb strode into your temporary office, the one he'd chosen specifically for its proximity to his own. He entered without knocking, not that it would have made a difference, because there you were, fast asleep at your desk. 

Your head rested on your propped-up hand, elbow perched precariously at the edge of the console, and it wobbled slightly, as if you might topple at any moment. For once, you weren't frowning. No venom curled your lips, and no rebellion burned in your eyes. There was just the steady rise and fall of your chest. You looked vulnerable like this, fragile in a way he'd never let himself picture.

Caleb watched the faint furrow in your brow twitch, as if you were arguing with someone in your dreams. He hoped it was him. He hoped he resided in your dreams the way you did in his. 

Then, your arm slipped. Your head jerked forward, about to crash against the desk, and instinct moved before thought. Caleb's gloved hand caught you just in time, palm bracing your cheek and fingers spreading beneath your jaw in an almost tender hold. Your skin was warm and soft under his touch.

Your eyes opened, unfocused and glassy. When recognition dawned, your expression sharpened, making you flinch and shove his hand away, standing abruptly.

"Colonel," you greeted stiffly. 

He didn't answer right away, his hand still hanging in the air where your face had just been, before curling slowly into a fist and dropping to his side. "You didn't answer your summons," he stated evenly.

"I was working." You gestured bitterly at your work station, your voice hoarse with sleep.

"I noticed." His gaze swept over the screen and then back to you. "I didn't realize it was such dreary work that it would cause you to fall asleep."

"Are you going to tell me off for it?"

"You nearly broke your nose."

"I didn't." Your tone was clipped and challenging. "Congratulations on pointing out the obvious. You want a medal, Colonel? Although I'm sure you have enough."

He didn't take the bait. "This is what happens when you don't listen. I did say that you were tired."

You opened your mouth to retort but faltered for a beat. Then you turned away from him, muttering, "Well, thank you for telling me how I feel, your fraudulent concern is noted. Do not force yourself to express it in the future, I'm sure it has been a taxing endeavour."

"Your work is done."

You blinked at his sudden change of topic. "Excuse me?"

"Your work is done," Caleb repeated. "You may begin your vacation. Starting now."

"You can't just—"

But he was already moving. Without asking or waiting for your protest, he bent over your console and began methodically shutting down your work. 

Click. Tabs closed.

Click. Diagnostic tools powered down.

Click. Project logs minimized and archived.

You stood dumbfounded as he reached for the handwritten schematics beside your monitor next and stacked them neatly, tapping the corners so they were perfectly aligned.

"What are you doing?"

He didn't look at you as he finished tidying your workspace like it was his own. "You've been excused. Which means your tasks for the day are complete. The files will still be here when you return. Untouched."

"Untouched?" you echoed incredulously. "You don't get to decide when I stop working."

Caleb lifted a single brow as if your outrage were some amusing inconvenience. "On the contrary."

"Colonel—"

He gestured smoothly toward the door. "You're dismissed. Rest. Sleep. Or don't. I don't particularly care what you do, as long as it does not involve exhausting yourself into collapse on fleet time."

He stepped toward you, and again, you felt that disorienting pull in the air. A sense that he was too close, even when he kept his hands behind his back like a proper officer.

"I'll have a new task for you when you return," he said. "Something simple that even you can manage."

"I'm not an invalid."

"I am just trying to protect my assets." He smirked a little and walked to the door. "I better not find out you've been tinkering around in your workshop during your time off. Go home, or if you prefer, go anywhere but here."

Taglist: @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @mi-yaw @userjunhuii @yahumankdj @twismare @missybabes @elielielira @kazbrkker @sylusgirlie7 @velvtcherie @potania @lyn-auxcord @rjreins @applecaviar @dramaticalsachan @iwantsomepotatoxx @inzanekillian @unbaed-you @poisonpomme

(hope i didn't miss anyone ❤️)

[calebsdog]

Past Caleb blowing up, losing his arm, nearly dying, only to get experimented on dozens of times : Is it... Is it worth it?

Future Caleb, balls deep in Mc: Holy shit dude you have NO idea

[asiatic-apple]

If there’s one thing Caleb is loud and passionate about, it’s his absolute hatred for anyone who uses the term “granny panties” like it’s some kind of insult. Especially if it’s to mock the idea of plain, comfy underwear in any cut or style that isn’t the small scrap of a thong.

He already grimaces every time he hears his fellow uni classmates indulging in disgusting locker room talk, but one day, he overhears some asshole talking way too loud about how his girlfriend didn’t wear anything “sexy” the first time they got intimate.

And the second the words “granny panties” come out of that idiot’s mouth, Caleb is marching over, looking pissed and ready to educate the group of boys snickering in the corner.

“What exactly do you mean by that?” he asks, voice sharp and unimpressed.

Caleb absolutely towers over every guy there, but even if he didn’t, the dark look on his face would be enough to shut them up. Still, the only one dumb enough to keep running his mouth is the guy who started it all. Caleb doesn’t even try to hide the way he rolls his eyes when the guy makes another half-assed joke about his girlfriend showing up in “ugly” panties.

This isn’t just a pet peeve for Caleb. It’s a hill he’s fully prepared to die on.

First, he has to rein in his annoyance that there are actually people out there who don’t appreciate a good pair of cotton underwear. Like, seriously? Do these bozos really need lace and frills to find a woman attractive? Just because the wrapping isn’t flashy doesn’t mean the present underneath is any less sweet.

He’s this close to banging his head against the lockers as he launches into a full-blown rant. And yeah, it turns into a thing. He’s breaking down the myth that any underwear that isn’t deemed “sexy” somehow counts as “granny.” Comfort doesn’t mean boring, and high-rise doesn’t mean unsexy.

His voice is gaining volume and causing heads to turn in concern as he’s citing studies, talking about vaginal health, explaining why breathable cotton is literally recommended—by doctors, no less. He’s throwing out terms like “moisture-wicking” and “pH balance” while giving these losers the dirtiest look imaginable.

And the other guys? They're just standing there, blinking at him like he’s grown two heads. Caleb couldn’t care less if they thought he was clinically insane. He stood by every damn word.

He’s fuming, practically vibrating, steam probably spewing from his ears. Because how the hell are these guys lucky enough to be inches away from a pair of soft, comfy, cute panties and not get immediately overwhelmed with the desire to bury their face in them out of sheer appreciation?

Once he’s finally done with his rant (he’ll swear up and down he changed at least one life that day, even if those idiots are a lost cause in reality), all he can think about is you. You and your cute, comfy underwear that he used to steal straight from your hamper like some kind of perverted pack rat.

It didn’t matter what kind you wore. Whether it was a lacy thong, high-waisted briefs, plain cotton, or something silky—he cherished every single pair because they were yours. Because they had the privilege of sitting nice and pretty on your hips, pressed just right against your perfect pussy (he hasn’t seen you like that yet, but god, the mental image alone could ruin him).

And later, when he’s alone in his dorm and thinking about you a little too hard, he actually tears up a bit. Just sits there, clutching one of your forgotten panties like it’s some sacred relic from a past life, missing you so much it physically hurts. Imagining the day he’ll get to prove every dumbass like that one in the locker room dead wrong—and prove himself right.

He’s already making a plan while sniffling through his tears and gently petting the soft cotton in his hands. When he finally returns to Linkon to see you again, he’s going to remind himself—very thoroughly—why any and all panties are holy. And why he’ll defend them to his dying breath.

[melk-maid]

warnings: everyone is aged up 21+, afab/gn reader, puppy play (caleb is the puppy), dry humping, praise kink, cumming in his pants, collaring, pussy juice licking, dom/sub dynamics, caleb isn't allowed to speak human or stand synopsis: you caught caleb in one of his many lies and decide to punish him with isolation for a few days. desperate to make you talk to him, caleb asks and pleads with how he can make you forgive him.

note: puppy boy caleb means the whole world to me!! he really is just a big golden retriever and i love he!!! enjoy~♡ tags: @samaraxmorgan minors & ageless blogs dni - you will be blocked

Caleb held back tears at the entrance of your living room, arms crossed over his chest with a furrow in his brow. His voice was playful—a feeble attempt to seem like he isn't affected by your isolation and silence over the last few days.

"I thought something happened while I was gone," he says. "Normally you answer me pretty fast, or text me you're busy so I know you're safe."

Biting your tongue, you continue to ignore Caleb, pretending he wasn't in the room. The book in your hands seems to be very intriguing—your eyes have almost glazed over and the words are melting together into a blur. It's taking all your concentration not to give in and acknowledge the grown man almost throwing a tantrum in your home.

He sighs through his nose, a short huff, before socked feet bound over towards the couch and the book was snatched from your hands. Caleb sings your name. Leaning down to be in your line of sight, you can see the sorrow in his eyes. Worry and fatigue drowns violet. The look on his face squeezes at your heart.

"You're not still mad at me, are you?"

His tone is much quieter. Sorrow begins to betray him; it makes itself known to you. All the playfulness of Caleb slowly floats away like dandelion seeds in the wind.

You are still mad at him, but not as much as you're making it seem. Caleb lies to you all the time; either you see through his lies or uncover the truth. It's a nasty habit he's held onto since you were kids, varying in degrees of severity and reason. Sometimes you let it go, and other times you insist on punishing him.

Since you're being forced to look at him, you stare directly at Caleb, holding a response in the back of your throat. You inhale deep and move to stand from the couch, only for him to intercept you with his body. Large arms cage you on either side to keep you in place—except you don't care to use your own body to escape. He's warm and sturdy under your touch, a small flinch in his taut muscles.

Before you can push Caleb out of your way, there's a familiar force weighing you down. It's not enough to hurt but you definitely can't move.

"Caleb." You warn.

"Ah, so you can speak." He grins. "Thought a wanderer cut your tongue out."

The use of his evol restricts you from crossing your arms in defiance. "Let me go."

A moment passes and Caleb's evol still keeps you in place; as though a pile of blankets are draped over your head. You stare up at him until the sensation disappears.

"I told you I was sorry." Caleb sighs as he stands straight. "What more can I do to make you forgive me?"

It's true, he did say sorry—in various different ways. The beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase at the window; a new, fancy notebook; there's a sorry in all the fresh groceries that stock your kitchen, all courtesy of Caleb.

"I'm not sure," You admit and lean back on the couch, avoiding his gaze to keep yourself from smiling. Anyone else would consider this evil, especially when you had already forgiven him for the most part.

Anxiously awaiting a response, Caleb lowers to his knees, arms resting on the couch at either side of your legs. His thumbs find your hips, gently stroking back and forth the peek of skin beneath your shirt. Resting his head against your leg, he adds, "Anything you want, pipsqueak. Just as long as you talk to me again."

Your hand finds his hair almost instinctually, threading your fingers through soft, brown locks. Caleb leans into it with a light moan, rubbing his cheek all along your thigh; his eyes fall closed as he relishes in the feeling. A small smile crawls onto your face. He's so cute like this, almost like a puppy…

"I have an idea." You say and Caleb's head perks up, smiling wide when you can't help but laugh at him. "Go get your collar."

Something flashes across his face. It's fast; blink and you could've missed it. Before you can ruminate on it, he's on his feet again, bounding towards your bedroom. Caleb returns quickly with the aforementioned collar. Without any further instructions, he's on his knees at your feet.

"Good boy," You coo while taking the collar from him. The praise makes him beam, inching closer to your knees until his chest is pressed against them.

You wrap the collar around Caleb's neck and he tilts his head down to give you room to fasten it—snug against his throat. The hands that tied the accessory around him linger, tracing the thread in black leather, hooking your fingers in the decorative silver hoops. He watches you with baited breath, patiently waiting for your next instruction. Your touch is soft on his cheek, cool against the burning of his skin. Flushed and excited. Always so eager to please.

"Go grab me a pen, sweetheart." You instruct. When Caleb moves to stand, you click your tongue. "Puppies like you don't stand on two feet, do they?"

He grins and plants his hands on the floor. You ignore the playful roll of his eyes and watch him crawl across the living room towards a cabinet. It's entertaining watching his big, hulking body crawl like this, feet lamely dragged behind him, his fat ass shaking intentionally with each motion. Caleb stands on his knees at the wooden furniture, reaching out for a pen with his mouth like a dog would.

Flopping back down onto his hands, Caleb practically wiggles his hips at your praise. "Good boy! I didn't have to tell you how to do it right, you're so smart."

There's a spark in his eyes and a curl of his lips around the pen, holding his head up high as he crawls back at your feet, dropping the pen in your lap and nuzzling his face against your thigh. Your praise means the world to him; it heals his heart from the loneliness you tormented him with.

"I didn't need a pen, I just wanted to see your ass." You admit while petting Caleb, giggling at the way his cheeks grow pink, smiling and looking up at you like you hung the stars.

This is what he'd been yearning for over the last few days. You had isolated yourself from him and in turn, Caleb felt like he was being torn apart limb by limb. His heart broke into dozens of pieces, a dark, swirling sense of grief had made a home in his chest. You were so close yet so far, and all he could ever think about was your smile.

"You're still not forgiven," You continue and that hand in his hair slowly pulls away. "You lied to me, remember?"

Caleb frowns—rather, he pouts. Leaning his chin on your knee, he musters up the best puppy dog face he could. "I did it for you…"

"You did it for yourself." He winces at your harsh tone. "It's bad enough you were talking to him, then you had to go and lie to me about it when I gave you the chance."

As you speak, your foot begins to grind over Caleb's crotch. His eyelid twitches, arching his back ever so slightly to lean into you. Slowly moving back and forth, you can feel him slowly hardening under your touch. All the while, your face remains stern. "He came to talk to me; I told you that before." Caleb bites back, crumbling when you press into his half-hard cock with the ball of your foot.

"Just because someone talks to you, doesn't mean you should have a conversation with them. Especially when it's my ex boyfriend."

Caleb pushes his cock into you, grabbing ahold of your leg to maintain the pressure. You flatten your foot, leaving him to chase after the feeling.

When he opens his mouth to say something else, you're quick to stop him in his tracks. "Anyway, puppies don't speak like humans do."

His jaw clicks shut, a light furrow of his brow—all while his hips slowly rock into your leg. Cheeks flush pink with shiny spit that coats his lips; so cute and obedient. You raise an eyebrow, reaching out to stroke his cheek again. Caleb understands and proceeds to bark like a dog.

"Woof."

"Is that so?" You hum and move to pet his hair.

"Woof woof!"

"Get yourself off on my leg then, and I might just believe you, little puppy."

Caleb tightens his grip on you, moaning as he pushes his hips into you with one long stroke. His hardness squeezed between your leg and his body, throbbing with need for something more substantial. Violet eyes stare at you with every thrust, begging for attention, craving validation.

You watch stoic as he gets himself off. It's all on him; you don't move a muscle to help. Periodically, you pet his hair and coo at him, complimenting the cute puppy before you. But beyond that, you're motionless—and it almost drives him to the point of insanity.

The blush on his cheeks continues to bloom across his face, darkening in colour and softening his harsh features. His eyebrows curl up in the centre of his face as he moans, leaning closer to you, pressing the entirety of his chest against your leg. You struggle to hold back a smile when he leans in to kiss you, catching your chin when you pull back into the couch.

"Does it feel good?" You ask when he rests his head against your chest, rutting his hips into your leg with pathetic whines.

Caleb nods against you, humming and pulling your leg impossibly closer, trying to get a good angle that allows him to remain close. You ignore his moans of your name, letting them slip since your puppy is being so well behaved.

"Do you regret what you did?" Caleb whimpers, one hand wrapped around your calf and the other groping your chest. "I can't hear you…"

He pulls back, a string of drool maintaining connection between his lips and your shirt. Dark, wet eyes gaze at you, "Woof."

When you smile at him, Caleb moans and leans down and proceeds to bury his face in your crotch. It's an awkward angle that he has to move back from, but that doesn't stop him from pulling your leg how he wants, ensuring he gets off on your leg like you commanded. You hear him sniff deep, exhaling through his mouth with a groan.

"You wanna taste, puppy?" You coo, a hand in his hair and the gentle tug makes his eyes roll. Slipping your hand down your pants, you rub a finger all between your lips, sliding with ease to collect your arousal. Caleb could smell it through your pants but now? He was drooling like a dog. "Here. Stick out your tongue, baby."

The muscle rolls out from between his lips; big, long and eager to taste. You press your wet finger on the flat of his tongue, stroking and rolling the digit around his palate. Caleb moans, pushing his hips firmly into you, his eyes fluttering closed just like his lips. You're quick to pull away and scold him.

"Puppies don't suck, do they Caleb?"

His name rolling off of your tongue like that is angelic. It makes his cock throb and leak against the waistband of his boxers, his fingertips grow weak where they hold onto you, but he fears you'll drift away again if he lets go. His eyes are half open when his tongue rolls out again, lapping slowly at your finger this time.

'Good boy," You hum before going back in to give him more.

It was only a little of your essence he could taste, but Caleb made it work. It was enough to have him panting for more, whining when you take a little too long with your hand in your pants, humping your leg harder when he grows close to his release. He lets you do whatever you want to him; tug on his hair when he's being impatient, scold him where necessary, dare to slip a finger down his throat to see how he would react. Caleb took it all in stride to hear you praise him again,

When he comes, it's with a moan of your name. Caleb sucks and drools over your finger—he can't help himself. Brows furrowed as a wave of pleasure flowed through him, releasing all inside of his pants in a gross and shameful display. What's more embarrassing, is that it was through humping your leg.

Still, the way you praise and coo at him makes it all worth it. "Such a good boy…" Your words make his heart melt into a puddle of goo. You're proud and happy with him for doing as you asked, to show commitment to you despite the newly created dent in the wall of trust between you.

"Are you going to lie to me again?" You ask quietly. So sweet, holding his chin in your hand, leaning in close to brush your lips against his.

Caleb responds. "Woof."

"That wasn't very convincing…" You hum.

"Woof woof!"

The corners of your lip curl into a smile, one that Caleb mirrors. "Much better." You say, despite both of you knowing it will definitely happen again. Regularly, in fact. But you know that's just how Caleb is, he does it out of love. 

[cosmicamor]

⌞ 𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘 ⌝

★ 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 + 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄

taglist. character playlists. p links. archived characters.

★ 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐔𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟑

astarion ancunin. gale dekarios. shadowheart.

★ 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐘: 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐄

john price. simon riley.

★ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄

caleb xia. rafayel qi. sylus qin. zayne li.

★ 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒

jj maybank. rafe cameron.

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★ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

coriolanus snow. peeta parker.

★ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃

daryl dixon. glenn rhee. rick grimes. rosita espinosa.

★ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

draco malfoy. ron weasley. sebastian sallow.

★ 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐔𝐒

arthur morgan. cove holden. joel miller. leon kennedy.

peter parker. vi.

©𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑 ⋆˚࿔ est. 2025. mature/explicit content. minors do not interact. do not plagiarise/repost my work as your own, or in general, to any other platforms. dividers edited by me.

[myntrose]

10:52 pm - domestic moments (indoor date night) w/caleb

Your ever busy schedule can only be matched with Caleb's even busier workload. Both of you knew that your relationship would involve a lot less physical time with each other. You're lucky to even see him in the morning before him or you head to work.

That's why date nights are especially rare. Again, it wasn't like you both didn't want to have a nice night out every now and then. However, the amount of times a date night had to be postponed, rescheduled, or downright canceled due to work has caused a major headache in your lives.

Caleb hadn't realized how much this affected you. It wasn't until he once came home, at the dead of night, to see you silently sobbing into your shared bed that he realized that he hasn't truly seen much of you in a long time.

And oh, he hates seeing you cry. He hated being the reason why tears feel upon your face. Approaching you in bed, he cupped your face while holding your body close. Caleb promises you a night, where it would just be you and him together. Separate from the world. Away from life and its responsibilities that tugged away from you. While it was only for a night, it was a start.

That's how tonight happens. You had some work duties during the morning, but Caleb told you not to worry and just make it home in one piece. A surprise, he has said. You could barely focus at work, buzzing at each tick of the clock until work hours ended. What had Caleb planned? A fancy reservation at a new restaurant? Maybe a picnic in some hidden spot? Hell, even if it was just hanging out at home and playing board games you were down. All you wanted was to finally spend some time with your boyfriend.

You could have rivaled the speed of light with how fast you sprinted out the building. After a few long, excruciating hours of sitting around work and basically doing nothing, you could finally go home and spend time with Caleb.

As you walk home, you realize that it had started to rain. So, that probably ruled out the plan of an outdoor date. A shame, but you're sure you'll still have fun. You enter your (and Caleb's) shared home, only to be hit with the smell of your favorite dish wafting through the air.

Behind the stove was none other than the man who looked at you like he was looking at his own salvation. Caleb seems focused on the task in front of him. Of course he knew your favorite food. Sometimes it scares you, the fact that he knows more about you than you do about yourself.

Making your way to him, you greet him by wrapping your arms around his body. He doesn't act surprise, almost as if he knew you had been there the whole time (he did, he always knew when you entered a room).

He puts down his utensils, setting the heat to low, before turning to you. Before you can process it, Caleb picks you up, and sets you down on the counter next to him. He decides to settle between your legs, caging you with his large body. His face buries itself into the nook of your neck.

You can feel his breath turning more and more steady. With this proximity, you can feel his heartbeat. It mimics your own, quick but controlled, sporadic but at peace. Despite having been together for a while now, neither of you can help this feeling of deep devotion towards each other.

Much against his wishes to stay like this forever, Caleb moves away first, greeting you with that same smile that you fell in love with years ago.

"missed you, pipsqueak"

Three words. one being that nickname you've grown to love. it doesn't take much to cause your heart to beat a bit faster.

"Go ahead a wash up. I already made your bath. We're having a movie night, and we can eat on the couch"

Nodding at his words, you hop off the counter, leaving Caleb to finish cooking your meal. He wasn't kidding about preparing your bath. You enter the bathroom to see the bath ready, bubbles and bath salts, your favorite products lined up. God, Caleb knew you so well.

Although staying in the bath was a tempting option, you wanted nothing more but to be within Caleb's proximity. So, you push yourself out of the comfort of the bath, and throw on your favorite pajamas- that being a pair of your shorts and Caleb's t-shirt.

Meanwhile in the living room, Caleb had prepared everything. He had picked out your favorite movies, set up dinner on the coffee table, and arranged your favorite snacks as well. He was just about done setting up when he seeing you emerge from your shared room.

God, you're beautiful, he thinks. Yes, your hair is still damp, you're wearing the baggiest clothes, wearing no makeup or anything. Yes, he still thinks you the most beautiful thing in this world.

You see the spread that Caleb has prepared, and it makes you want to tear up a bit. He did all this, taken a day of work, to prepare a night where it was just you two in your own world.

Caleb pulls you from your spot, dragging you into the couch. He sets you both to where your legs are on top of his. He throws over a blanket over you two, and presses play on the first movie.

It never has to be fancy or intricate with Caleb. He knows you, and knows exactly what to do during these rare times when you both care indulge each other's company.

While you know that you both have to return to the real world tommorow, you settle into the comfortable space you've both created for each other.

I need lover boy!caleb now pls and thank you