#lads post

[lazylattedgleam]

Hello hello everyone! Thoughts drop part-3! For a NON!MC Reader.

TW: Angst, Unrequited feelings (if you are uncomfortable then please don’t read ahead. Thank you!)

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They say that often first meetings are like cheat codes designed by Fate herself to help one venture further into the game of chase with another person…Results vary from individuals, so are the scores as She plays with the strings of one’s life…And that was how you met him too…accidentally, maybe at the Cafe or the beach or at a sweetshop to ease your sweet tooth, or at the gym, maybe even while grocery shopping. Well it was not much of a meeting since no words were shared, but gazes met…he held that aura within him…yet he looked so broken…how did you decipher so much from just having eye contacts with a stranger? You don’t know…but you wished in the deepest chambers of your heart…that you maybe meet him again in the future? That is if Fate may allow…

Well She did…as you kept running into each other more often…gathering your courage you said a simple, but genuine “Hi”…so did he…one word became two…then more and more…aaaand soon you were hanging out, meeting up often—almost three times a week, with your new “friend”, maybe at the Cafe or the beach or at a sweetshop to ease your sweet tooth, or at the gym, maybe even while grocery shopping…Days grow into weeks, weeks into months…as you find yourself having grown close to him at such a rate you felt like you knew him from Adam, the ever-growing gleam of familiarity in him that was brighter than the light of a thousand stars, stronger than the pull of gravity itself…that kept you grounded…too grounded…that you felt like you could never fly again…yet it was everything you’ve ever wanted, you were tired of falling into an endless pit of void…maybe now you finally found the ground you’ve always been searching for…yet you drowned in him…

Late night texts, jokes and limericks, lingering touches here and there, soft words of affirmation, evening strolls, eating in and out, stargazing…had become a crucial part of your existence, a part that lingered even before he existed for you, but he made them feel alive…made you feel like home…like “you”…the truest, most vulnerable version of you…Everything was rose gold…too perfect…you’d often fear it would all end,

Overthink

Overthink

Overthink…until you did confide it all to him someday…

He said, “Nothing’s gonna change, not for me and you…”, and that put you at ease instantly, brightening your mood, feelings, emotions, and most importantly yourself…

Maybe Fate finally gave you the chapter which you yearned for in your monologue…

She arrived…infiltrating the garden you thought you’d created in his heart for you in just a matter of seconds…His eyes lit up like you’ve never seen them before…not with you…Behind his eyes you could see how much he held for her…how much he cherished, yearned and loved her…his whole persona found the true colors as if they’d obtained their genuine identity after so long…The colors you saw within him was different…it still had a greyish hue to everything…but the colour she painted onto him was different…it was vibrant, bright, illuminating, blinding, every hue mixing and blending perfectly with one another like it was meant to be…

All you could do was watch as a mere spectator at every mutual portray of interaction and affection…he was much more livelier, he even initiated ideas of plans…he never did those with you…come to think of it you’ve always been the initiator in your dynamic…while it lasted…Their love felt cosmic…They felt cosmic…as if two of the most crucial pieces of a puzzle, that gives the world it’s meaning and beauty…it scared you to ever even interrupt them while conversing…how could you? They were bound by Fate herself…you could never interfere with Fate…The truths you thought you knew about him had become a paradox…

“Late night texts, jokes and limericks, lingering touches here and there, soft words of affirmation, evening strolls, eating in and out, stargazing”, became their thing…all you got were a strings of, “I’m sorry I’m busy” “I’m with her tonight” “Sorrrry :( can’t she and I are hanging out.” “Can’t” “Too tired, just had a food fight with her”…But you never stopped…you always waited for the day maybe he’d ask you again…spend time with you…like it used to be…You wanted to hate her, hate her with all your guts…but you could never…how could you, she was the sweetest…she’s delicately captured your heart along with his too…you adored her…and who wouldn’t…she was the sweetest, so brave and beautiful…one of the most skilled Deepspace Hunters of the Hunters’ Association…anybody would want to be with her…

In the past you’ve admired people, maybe sometimes even obsessed over, and wanted to be like them…but now…all you yearned to be was like her…you were obsessed to be like her…she was everything that you lacked and a thousand times more…

Soon you slowly began to dissociate yourself from him…deep in your secret chambers hoping he’d notice…but the man you barely ever noticed the world around him when with her, how could he notice someone like you…You felt like a paper drenched and torn apart, as he slipped away like a moment in time because he was never yours from the start…Memories of your chapters with him felt like watching a movie long forgotten in time…For him you weren’t old news…you weren’t ever news to have gotten old…

They were a melody…you were just a mere note in the composition…needed only once…

—<——————————————<——————————————————<————————————

Welll I tried to put them properly…Hope you like it! As always thank you for checking out this post! :D! Baii baii! <3!

[sotadespadas]

guess who's my fav lads li just by the names i gave them

affinity hidden for obvious reasons HAHAHA

[dragonpyre]

The funniest thing about Jason’s “no dealing to kids” rule is that generally the age threshold for weed and other hard substances is 21, and Jason did his whole insane plot at nineteen. Meaning, he technically falls into the category of “off limits”

[call-me-chips]

Behold.

My son.

I birthed him.

He is my little bebe.

And I love him.

You also love him.

Because he's but a little boi.

He much prefers toilet water to his water dish.

But this is okay.

Because we love him.

[habunshu]

you know other dragons?

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

Star Trek: Lower Decks 5x9 - GARASHIR SUPERCUT

[syluses]

separation anxiety

⤷ caleb experiences a rut after a long time, and it just so happens that you’re in his path.

cw. 18+ smut, hybrid! caleb, knotting, dubcon if you squint, breeding, obsessive/possessive behavior, perv caleb, fem human! reader, ruts, size difference, also a lil breeding, 3.5k words because i physically struggle to write smut without a preamble, reader is ovulating and it triggers his rut this time for whatever reason

an. saw this trope going around & wanted to try it <33 he’s got that DAWG in him 💪 also i cant decide if hybrid caleb gives german shepherd vibes or samoyed vibes…. that moments post lives rent free in my mind tho idk (>_<)

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, & 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆��𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅! (๑´ `๑)♡

Caleb would say he hates you for the time you’re gone, but it’d be a big fat lie. His love for you, big and bursting in his chest, deepens in the quiet windows where you’re present at work or running errands throughout Linkon before returning home to him.

There’s a permanence of you in his mind and being. He wants it no other way.

His devotion for you doesn’t necessarily drown him- no, you’re always there with a lifering waiting- but it certainly sweeps him up and threatens to.

He gets a bit ahead of himself sometimes, he’s aware of that; energetic, bulging at the seams with vigor; whether it’s an integral part of his personality or just a consequence of his breed, the pound he came from never quite knew. Your Gran never figured that out, either, and for as sweet and trying as she was, she soon realized she couldn’t foster him for long.

Because he was a big boy, hungry for attention and wired to please, well-meaning but oft over involved with personal space— and he brought a loaded package that your Gran just couldn’t sign her name off on, not after a few months, anyway. She tried her best before nudging him into your care, because she sure as hell wasn’t about to give him up to that squalid pound or the streets again- and besides, the mutt liked her granddaughter; all those visits she paid throughout the summer obviously endeared Caleb to her, and quickly.

You admit, it’s a mite difficult to juggle between long days at work, little tasks that drag you from point to point throughout Linkon, and your own personal life on top of caring for a hybrid stowed away in your shoebox apartment— but your grandmother was all but sapped of her energy then, turning to you for aid although she seldom ever did, and you’d always lend a hand where you could.

The mutt- Caleb, is his name (and you call it fondly even as he’s pawing at your thighs for attention or drooling on your collar)- has grown on you considerably in the past half year, anyway.

You won’t let him down or leave him at the curb. He’s yours. The red collar you bought him says as much, printed with your number on a silver plate, and he wears it not because you make him but because he’s proud of it.

He’s a good boy, he is. He always has been and for that you’re thankful.

Except, this week he’s… different.

As of a few days ago, it’s like he’s been testing the waters- and your patience- on just how far he can go before you tell him off or say bad dog. He must find them warm because he’s just been diving deeper as the week progresses.

You don’t know what to do. He’s oddly aggressive. It’s not rare at all for him to follow you all around your apartment, but he’s foregone the very last shred of respect for your personal space and nips when you try to push him away. Not hard enough to actually hurt- the yip you make is more surprised than anything when he pulls you back in and licks at the small red patch- but you look wounded at it.

Because Caleb doesn’t bite— he just doesn’t.

He wraps you up in seemingly endless embraces and breathes your smell in until he’s dizzy, laughing into your neck like a giddy child. He does this every time you try to leave for work and he’s made you late for it.

Maybe it’s just because you’re ovulating and a little hormonal, but it makes you quite sour and the mood stays even when you return in the afternoon. He’s never liked when you’re gone, sure, but he’s always been there to see you off at the door with a pout as you scratch behind his ear- more or less tame about it.

Your patience really frays at the odd uptick in his possessiveness, though. It’s hurtful.

You’ve always treated him less like a pet- a hybrid- and more like a friend, and you feel quite indignant for it when he growls and tells you that he hates the smell of other men on you, hearing none of your excuses that it’s ‘just coworkers’, glaring at you like some brainless extension of him. You feel less like a person and more like an object, a streetlamp in which he emerges from the shadows for just to piss on to show it belongs to him.

He’s touchy. Snippy. Glued to your side at all times. It’s concerning and frustrating and confusing all at once.

By the fifth day mark, on Friday night, you’re tuckered out by it and don’t question where he is when you return home early from a shift and he’s, uncharacteristically, not there to greet you.

A red collar however, laid on the floor, its tag glittering under dim hallways lights, strikes you as both curious and unsettling.

He never takes that off. No- says it’s his way of showing you and the whole world that he belongs to you, and— have you been too impatient with him lately? Brusque? Maybe you’re a little hormonal but it’s no cause to get short with him, even when he’s acting up, and what if he no longer wants you as his owner—

A gasp.

You find him in your bedroom, humping your pillow, yowling as he comes undone- unawares- and the walls spin as you nearly faint.

You drop your purse. “Caleb!” You shriek, and a visible shiver rolls down his spine as he turns around.

“Bad dog!”

✦

You sleep on it.

Well, you wash your sheet and your pillowcases- and then you sleep on it.

Maybe you overreacted. If anything, you should be grateful for what you walked in on because otherwise, he wouldn’t have known how to tell you he’s been going through a bit of a hot phase- the first of his you’ve experienced- and doesn’t know how to control himself.

You blush just thinking about it, shame knocking in your chest as your heart beats heavy. You feel awful for walking in on him for a number of reasons. One of them being he came all over your bed- and his tummy- and you had to clean both up through furious tears as you peeled your covers off the mattress and pointed him off in the direction of the bathroom, telling him to run the faucet and quick.

A pass of guilt, the fear of you being angry with him, made its round across his kicked expression but he held off on arguing.

For the first documented time in the whole week, Caleb appeared mellow- not agitated, restless, or tense- and rather crestfallen, and you noted it only vaguely as you irately turned on the washer.

Now, it’s in the forefront of your brain.

Well, if he’s been going through some kind of rut lately, it only makes sense he’d be all kinds of pent up, and that his release (albeit in an inconvenient way and place) would provide some relief.

It’s closer to noon when you finally exit your bedroom and meet him at the sofa- the same one you’d all but banished him to last night. He prefers to spend his nights with you, either curled up at your side or splaying his full weight over your back- a breed-relative habit, you’re sure. You’ve heard of some other kinds who enjoy a room to themselves or do just fine with the couch, on their lonesome— But not Caleb.

He looks tired but perks up when he hears you patter down the hall, violet eyes lighting when you timidly take a seat.

With a bit of hesitation, he inches closer until you sheepishly wave a hand and he barrels into your arms.

“Ah- Caleb-“

Before you can even apologize for your jumping the gun last night, he beats you to the punch. “M’ sorry. You don’t hate me for it, do you?” He sighs into your collar and you shiver, “I wish you could understand what it feels like- I wouldn’t have done it if it was somethin’ I could control, I hope you realize that.”

You swallow, digesting his words as you belatedly place a hand on his head to pet. He positively melts. “Y-Yeah,” you mumble back. “It’s okay. I actually wanted to say sorry too. I- I didn’t understand what was going on…”

A deep groan looses from his throat, his chest swelling with content as you itch that spot behind the furry ears say upright on his head. They give a few twitches as he leans against you and wraps his muscular arms around your middle, resting his chin by your shoulder.

“It’s my fault, though, not yours. I didn’t know how to tell you- I was worried you’d just end up scared’a me, or…”

His pause instills interest in you. Your fingers smooth back his brown locks, mussed from fitful sleep, and he sighs. “Or what?” You press softly.

You pull him back just enough to get a look at him, his cheekbones almost shiny with a dusting of pink. His thick brows furrow together.

“Or that you’d leave,” he whispers.

Your eyes widen. You lasso your arms around his neck and pull him to you, your head slotting above his shoulder as his fingers quickly move to support the position, one hand perched at your thigh and the other braced at your side.

“Nonsense,” you grumble at his ear, a bit angry at the suggestion. “I’d never leave you.”

Something hard, then, prods at your middle- too fleshy to be something in either of your pockets- and you stiffen at the realization as it comes a beat too late.

Caleb’s voice is breathy at your ear, low, his tail thumping on the cushion. “Yeah?” He murmurs, a pang of heat stirring in your belly at the sound. Suddenly aware, you gently go to push at his broad chest but he stops you with an imploring look- although the desire, brewing in dilated pupils, isn’t lost on you- and musters a pout.

It looks out of place, the wholesome gaze marred by hunger as it reshapes his puppyish look.

“Even when I am no better than a bad dog?”

Your brow quirks, “I didn’t mean it,” you whisper, wide-eyed as his eyes bore into yours. Every micro expression you make is being catalogued and noted with utmost care, his pink tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips as they grow dry.

“It’s okay if you did,” he murmurs back. “I’m just glad I have you around to remind me of my place…” Long, slim fingers reach up and you watch, unseeingly, as they stroke your cheek, his other hand creeping dangerously close to the waistband of your sleep shorts.

He chuckles, but the humor wanes quickly.

“Otherwise, I’d always be misbehaving. Do you even know what you do to me?” His voice is meaningful, torrid, as he draws in and the tip of his nose brushes with yours. You can’t find it in you to move as your thighs- the ones he slithers a singleminded hand in between- begin to roil with unexpected warmth.

You plant a hand to his chest, shying away, “C-Caleb-“

“Don’t worry,” he says sweetly, “M’ not gonna hurt you. I just….” He lets out a sigh, long and perhaps just a bit exaggerated- but it has the intended effect on you. You purse your lips and feel a trace of guilt twist in your heart.

“You drive me crazy. Y-Your smell- I don’t know why this is happening, either. Honestly? I haven’t had a rut in a couple years. But this…”

Caleb lets out a soft noise of pleasure, lending his full weight to you when he breathes you in and shakes.

When he speaks next, his words come out raspy and so low you hardly register them as his breaths grow labored- they’re all you can hear as the living room space shrinks down to just him and the knuckles that dare to dip into your panties.

“This is just too unfair. You won’t leave me hangin’, pretty,… w-will you?” Breathy. With an undeniable streak of need. You can’t miss the lust that usurps the softer parts of him and makes him look less puppyish and cheerful and more wolfish, calculating.

And, well, when he puts it like that, how could you?

✦

He doesn’t fuck you on the couch. He takes you to your bed and fucks you there like a lover would.

He fucks you deep and fast- to his credit, he doesn’t hurt you, staying true to his word, but the possibility of bruises becomes a nearer thing when he folds your legs back and his grasp becomes constricting, plunging in and out of your cunt with rapt focus. Indigo eyes glow with something feral, like you’ve given him no choice but to claim his ownership over you through sloppy kisses and clinking teeth as he pounds into you, driven him into a corner- but his touch turns worshipful when he presses his forehead to yours and moans.

“Ah- y-you feel so good, so tight,” he compliments, words almost slurred. His pupils expand and he looks no different than a drunken, babbling man, his cheeks a rosy red.

His murmurs are wet against your lips as they graze and mush with his, Caleb’s face so close to yours that his lashes tickle your brow as he gawks at you, so entranced by whatever it is he’s seeing to look away.

A fluffy tail sways unevenly behind him and touches your leg on occasion, almost like it’s trying to curl around you, prickling and eager. Every part of him gravitates to you. You’re the ground beneath his feet. Fertile land.

“And you’re all mine, okay? Nobody else’s. I want you to wear my scent- to carry me with you no matter where you go. You have to promise me you will- mmph- That sound good-?

“C-Caleb—“

You groan when he stuffs himself deeper inside and you swear you feel his length throb inside your walls, stretching. The veins running along his shaft carve out a new pathway in you, one special and just for him, as his balls- heavy and fat, with a hell of a lot to give- slap against your ass. Slick oozes out from the squelching seam of you, coating his thick cock but you still struggle to accomodate his size despite the lubrication.

He’s made to make you feel as if you’re losing your mind. You snatch your jaw with your own hand to keep the flurry of high-pitched sounds from spilling out lest they embarrass you, but he shoos it away and cuffs your wrists with a hand splayed over them.

“Nah- I wanna hear you, baby. You can’t keep holdin’ out on me like this... I’m giving you my all right now, so it should be pretty obvious that you can do the same, yeah?”

A mewl punches out from your lungs half a second later and he seems quite contented at that. He sighs, closing his eyes, saying,

“I’ve been good all along. Can’t you play the part, too? I just want you to see how much I really love you,” his confession is by no means considered casual what with the passion in which its conveyed, but you can’t help but feel it’s a little sudden, said a little too quickly, and you wonder if he means what he says or if the rut is responsible for all these novel, amorous feelings in him.

I mean, he’s probably too wrapped up in the moment to even contemplate his own admissions as they all spew out—

“Caleb, too big—“ you gasp, cutting him off, and he lets out a strangled kind of noise when your walls clamp around him.

Holyfuck holyfuck holyfuck do it again, he wants to say, suffocate me, but nothing comes out and he realizes after a long second that his vision has whited completely. He can’t see anything; he’s in a fuzzy, dazzling world with the blinders on and all he can smell and feel is you- your scent, sugar sweet and about as inviting as a barstool pulled out, envelopes him and he can’t breathe. Can’t speak.

He fucks into you with reckless abandon, huffs you in like it’s his final breaths, and then lets it all go without care for anything else. Far as he’s concerned, everything he knows is defined by you. This is a give and take relationship: he actually gives a damn about your opinion of him and takes all you have to offer.

He’s in love, puppyish and clumsy but fuck you lead the way and lead him on.

“Shh, I know,” he rasps out, steaming up your neck like a fogged window pane as he insinuates himself there. Your whole body feels like a furnace, burning up for him as he opens you up and tucks himself inside.

“I know it’s big, but you gotta be ready for-“ he clips his sentence short, thinking better of it.

He wants to warn you of his impending knot- the one that’ll no doubt leave you yelping and writhing away from him- you certainly deserve as much of a foreword to it, but part of him is just so terrified you’ll reject him or deny him the priviledge of shoving it inside you and fuck he can’t have that.

Caleb’s nothing if not loyal. He’s also nothing if not selfish. That’s always been a wriggling bug he’s tried to stomp out but it remains in the baser part of him, only amplified by the intense rut that came right out of the blue.

He wants you singing his name and bonded to him (or as much of a bond the two of you can form), and so that’s what he’ll get.

He’ll apologize later, and you will forgive him. So all’s fine.

“Y-You can take it,” is the simpler thing he settles on, and you let it pass, because between the fat cockhead splitting you apart deliciously and the sweet, somewhat perturbing nothings he gushes at your ear, you’re deaf to most of everything.

But when you come- unexpected and sharp, overwhelming your senses as your hips ruck up and he has to pin you down in place and ride it out with you as you cream around him- the scream you let out rings in your ears and so does his ferocious grunt. It’s loud and you’re so numb as seconds pass that feel like eons; pointed teeth teasing at the squishy chunk of your shoulder, invoking a buried sense of alarm.

And then he’s biting down hard- not just nipping- the pleasure thankfully driving off the pain as he ploughs inside, muffling a string of curses as he picks up his pace. Caleb gets sloppier and sloppier and then he’s burning white-hot inside you and moaning like a pornstar, pelvis juddering as he comes.

“Mmh- f-fuck- Good girl!” he rewards with half a brain, fucked out into perfect oblivion, and for a second you wonder why his voice sounds more meant for comfort than praise- until you expect him to pull out but he doesn’t, something big and round forming at the base of his cock that has his eyes fluttering back as it pops in. He goes boneless on top of you as every limb of yours stiffens and coils around his broad back.

You scream his name. He shivers.

It feels enough to shatter your mind- the pain searing you, but the ghost of pleasure that creeps up along your nervous system makes you go like jelly beneath him, helpless to whatever he’s got planned for you.

“C-Caleb, you-!”

“Yeah, a bad dog, a bad dog,” he stammers, whimpering at your earlobe, “I know, baby, I know. Just- don’t shut me out, okay? I- It’ll be over soon, just- ah- loosen up around it, okay? It’ll feel so much better that way. Just… hold on to me.”

“I-It hurts-!”

“Ngh, shhh…” He trembles out, shifting to sample a broken mewl from your lips, cupping your jaw with all the love in the world and staring at you as if you told the sun to rise this morning. “Be a good girl and take it, mm? Your pussy’s squeezing me so tight, I think she wants it too, but she has to relax a little first, yeah? Mm… I could give you a whole litter of pups. Give your Gran a bunch of cute lil granbabies to drive her crazy.”

You choke on your own spit, the brunet letting out a near delirious chuckle at the idea and your reaction to it before his brow gives a wince, your walls instinctively trying to push his swollen knot out.

“Wha- Caleb, is that even-?”

“I don’t know,” he kisses your forehead tenderly, his tail giving a heavy, excited thump behind him on the bed as you grab the sheets for dear life and they wrinkle, pinched like your conflicted expression.

“But I’ve been dyin’ to try it out for myself.”

[memephi]

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

I CANNOT BE THE ONLY ONE IN SHAMBLES HERE. I HAVEN'T EVEN WATCHED THE ACTUAL CARD YET AND IVE BEEN ABSOLUTELY REDUCED TO SEDIMENT

THE WAY HE SAYS THAT HE MISSES YOU?? THE WAY HIS VOICE FUCKING QUIVERS WHEN HE SAYS THAT HE'S WILLING TO WAIT??

PAIN /pos

[luvcaleb]

ANYTHING FOR YOU.

bf!caleb headcanons with canon-typical caleb possessiveness levels.

bf!caleb who wears hair ties on his wrist and does your hair for you when you complain about feeling hot. he even adds a neat little braid because somehow, he's even better at it than you are.

bf!caleb who lets you steal all the clothes you want. he knows he's huge, and the way his oversized shirt drapes on you drives him a little crazier than he'd like to admit. if you say anything that remotely suggests you feel a bit cold, he's already shrugging out of his jacket.

bf!caleb who gives you a piggyback ride when your feet are sore from wearing heels. he doesn't let you get off until you've arrived at a clothing store and he picks out a new pair of comfortable shoes, kneeling down to slip them on your feet.

bf!caleb who holds his hand out whenever you go shopping for cosmetics so you can test the makeup on his skin. he gives comments on which color fits you better and slides out his card before you could pull out your wallet to pay.

bf!caleb who gives you a packed lunch whenever he has the time to cook. some pieces are cut into hearts, and every meal comes with a post-it note with a different message. “i cooked your favorite, pipsqueak. hope you won't be too full for dessert later ;)”

bf!caleb who wakes you up with kisses, gently cooing that breakfast is ready on the table. he picks you up when you whine about being too sleepy, carrying you all the way to the dining room.

bf!caleb who knows all of your favorite snacks and keeps stock of them at his apartment so you can eat whatever you want during movie nights.

bf!caleb who sends you pictures when he works out at the gym because he knows you have a thing about him flexing his arms.

bf!caleb who knows all your good angles and a good portion of the photos you post on social media are taken by him. “hm? i don't do anything special. i take good photos because you always look this pretty in my eyes, princess.”

bf!caleb who kisses every inch of your skin that another man touched. may it be a friendly pat on your shoulder or a tap on your waist, he erases all traces of them with his lips, watching the red marks bloom with deep satisfaction.

bf!caleb who's always touch-starved, no matter how much cuddling you do every night. he demands you to pat his head and shower his face with kisses, and even if you do as he requests, he says it'll never be enough and he needs a lifetime supply of affection.

bf!caleb who finds every opportunity to mention his cute girlfriend to his close peers to the point they're tired of his bragging. at the fleet, the colonel is normally freezing cold, but his eyes soften ever so slightly when he sees your picture set as his lockscreen. you're always his reason to go home early, too. “my partner is waiting at home. i'll be leaving now.”

bf!caleb who spoils you rotten so that you can't live without him anymore. he can't live without you, so it's only fair if the same goes for you, right?

bf!caleb who smiles when you say you're going out with a friend. he tells you to call him when you're done so he can pick you up, and he's always right on time so you don't have to wait. good thing he was nearby, huh?

bf!caleb who bought rings way too early into the relationship and is simply waiting for the perfect time to pop the question and make you truly his.

[tbaluver]

WERE GETTING MARRIED! CONGRATS TO ALL OF US HAPPY BRIDES

[sayangrafayel]

Caleb: I’ve been dropping her the most insanely obvious hints for like, years now. No response.

MC: Wow. She sound stupid.

Caleb: But she's not. She's really smart actually. Just dense.

MC: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”

Caleb: I guess you’re right. Hey MC, I love you.

MC: See! Just say that!

Caleb: Holy fucking shit.

MC: If that flies over her head then, sorry Caleb, but she's too dumb for you.

Caleb: MC.

[lazylattedgleam]

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LOST AMONG THE PAGES

(A Zayne x NONMC!Reader fic)

(Word count: ~3.4k)

(Credits: All images from the net. Except for the color editing and brush strokes and writing are made by me.)

(Credits: Pinterest)

*TW: Angst, maybe not well written, NON!MC Reader, Reader has Anemia, heavy blood loss during periods, fights, shouting, feeling of betrayal and heartbreak, shaking, crying, unrequited love.

*Index: Reader speeches are white, bold and italicised.

Zayne speeches are blue, bold and italicised.

MC speeches are pink, bold and italicised.

Others are white and just italicised.

Thoughts are written inside single inverted commas and italicised, sometimes struck through.

Texts and chats have ‘Indented’ font.

Calls have double inverted commas, white and italicised. They are differentiated from other speeches. (Except for main characters like MC and Zayne, they will follow their color code as mentioned earlier and italicised.)

Actions are written inside asterisks, white and bold.

Diary entries have ‘Chat’ font.

If you’re uncomfortable with the following genre or any of the trigger warnings, then please don’t read ahead.

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“His love for her was as pure as the flower Jasmine herself…”

Memoir: Three. Ending

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(Credits: The Feels)

Time…12:23 a.m.

Date: 06/XX/2048

Day: Saturday

Dear diary,

I rarely do write these days, my mind is too much consumed by the void of my thoughts and feelings…my thoughts filled with them..them and them…work has been fine, sales going good, yet everything feels too gloomy…I do make him lunch everyday, barring the days they go out to eat, it hasn’t increased, but my soul feels like it did…we don’t text much, just few ‘Hi’ and ‘Hellos’, here and there…and sometimes he checks up on me over text or call…I think Zayne too has figured out I’m in need of space maybe that’s why he hasn’t once visited me in over two weeks…Although I look at their Moments posts, I didn’t know Zayne had that app…they seem happy, just like their pictures do…

Yesterday was at the park…

Few days ago at Destiny Cafe…

Couple days before that by the Lakeside…

Azure Square…

My eyes hurt watching them…it feels like I’m developing a new variant of iritis…

Fun fact: he fails to tell me that he’s going out, everytime…either I get to know it from Yvonne, or MC, or from the Moments posts…So I’ve stopped caring the need to know…if they tell me, I just hum along and let go.

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Time…02:38 a.m.

Date: 13/XX/2048

Day: Friday

Dear diary,

I don’t feel like writing anymore, not even twice in two weeks…what happened to me? He rarely calls, all I get are mostly texts, that is also if I’m lucky enough…I’m dying to talk to him, would he even remember it’s our anniversary next week? Or maybe they have plans…

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(Credits: The Feels)

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PRESENTLY:

Next week arrives way quicker than I ever wanted it to, every day feels like a blur recently, like I can barely remember the tasks I’ve performed…It’s our anniversary day…I will go to the hospital and drop off a flower bouquet to him in his office…

…I had a special lunch prepared for him,

‘Dice beef, rice, roast meat sauce, broccoli and white broccoli, crispy fried shredded onions, and tamagoyaki’, I’d learnt during the early stages of our relationship. It was always my plan to make our first anniversary very special, filling him with surprises…I place a six packed box of coconut macarons on the side each had a tiny milk chocolate snowman on them: orange juice, and like usual a handwritten note…within a heart shaped card. I then head out to our shop, picking out a freshly custom made jasmine-bouquet, as I add a card to it, ‘Happy 1st Year’, maybe if I wasn’t dull from the inside I’d have been more creative…

“Soooo a whole year huh?” “Mhm”, I smile softly as I pay after I was done.

…Upon reaching the hospital I was immediately greeted by Yvonne and Dr. Greyson. “Happy 1 year anniversary! Congratulations to the both of you!”, she says excitedly, hugging me. I hug back. “Congratulations”, Dr. Greyson nods as I smile at both of them, “Thank you very much you two.” “Dr. Zayne is free right now, plus it is lunch time so yeah.” “Thanks a lot Y, I’ll be off then.” “Okay! Do tell me your plans for tonight later!” “Will do!”.

Taking a deep breath in I knock on his door… “Come in”, I hear his voice, it sounded softer than usual…could he have been expecting me? I take a deep breath in as I walk inside…

“Happy 1 year (Name)!”…of course she is here…I regain my posture as I smile at her, it’s forced… “Thank you very much.” “I’ve been so excited for today, I mean Zayne, a year with someone! Now that’s a milestone!”, she jokes and laughs… “oh! I’ll go out now, you two talk…do tell me your plans for the night later bye guys!”, as she leaves…

I feel a strange sense of satisfaction and comfort at that…but the main thing still remains…Zayne…it’s been very awkward over these weeks, and ever since all that happened…I don’t know how to approach him…

I take in a breath as I walk to his table, handing out the bouquet to him…as I placed the lunch box on his table, I smile… “Happy Anniversary…”, I want to say more, pour out my heart but I don’t… He stares at the gift, soon opening his lunch, I could see a tiny glimmer in his eyes…I made him his favourite after all… “Thank you…”, he says with the similar softness he holds out for her…my heart skips a beat…but then again…it’s compulsion…

“Happy Anniversary…(Name)…”

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…Maybe I still have hopes and dreams…I reach his pace, my mind at a pseudo-peaceful state for the time being…I want tonight to be ours just ours…I want to make it perfect…so perfect perfect perfect…I work hard…pacing around his living room space decorating, minutely adjusting each and every piece, so that there remains no fault…

I fill the room with golden fairy lights, some over the front door, his bedroom and hung over the mould of the balcony. Next I decorate the gaps in between with small thick bunches of Jasmines, some beside the table and chairs too, arranged in a pattern…now all I need to do is wait for his arrival for the last minute touch ups…

…The clock strikes 11:00 p.m. The lights turned off, the room illuminated by the fairy lights. Keeping the balcony door open, as a gentle soft breeze came in through greeting my features…

I’m wearing my best dress for him…it was a navy blue tube top with intricate white snowfalls patterns delicately lacing around the waist and bust area—custom made…a silver necklace with an elegant cursive ‘Z’ locket, matching silver earrings and a bracelet—custom made…maroon lip gloss, mascara and my hair let down.

The door opens, as I catch a glance of him enter…he looks too good to be true…He stares for a while… “I’ll be out after changing…” “Will you want to have dinner first?” “Yes.”.

While he goes to freshen up, I prepare the table, placing neatly each item around the table…I had starters, main course, dessert and drinks. As I light up the candle placed at the centre of the table, making sure no wind blows it out, but thankfully luck was on my side, the wind was just a gentle summer breeze… Beside the candle was a bucket with ice and a bottle of champagne, now I know he’s a lightweight and he doesn’t prefer drinking…but it’s our anniversary, I want it to be the best…

He came out after a while wearing -his nightly rendezvous outfit-, my breath hitches…I want to compliment him but what if it becomes awkward…my gestures and thoughts went back to how it used to be like at the beginning of our relationship…maybe time is a loop…

As we sit down to eat, he gets my chair put like the gentleman he is and then himself sits…Having his favorite cuisine on the table, maybe I thought he’d smile…but he didn’t…

“Champagne?” “It’s our anniversary after all, a couple glasses wouldn’t hurt.”, I chuckle hoping he’d too…but he didn’t…

He’s sending me mixed signals…which I neither comprehend nor interpret…atleast he’s here…that’s all that matters now…a part of me couldn’t wait to write about tonight in my diary again…

…we eat quietly, not much words are uttered, except for the occasional, like for passing items or ‘the food is good.’, my mind wanders back to the times before her, as I analyse them, was he always cold to me too? I used to believe that was how he showed affection, was I wrong?

I pour myself a glass and drink it…he didn’t say anything…I was a lightweight too…but he didn’t know…and another…and another…and another…

My inhibitions lowered but I still had my senses to myself…placing the glass down, I chuckle a bit…

“Not even a ‘you look beautiful tonight’??? Dr. Zayne now that’s straight up meeeeeaaaannnn! *hic* I set up soooooo much ‘fff you, dressed up ffff youuuu, surprises surprises surprises! Even made and got your favorites! But nothinggggggg!”, I pout as I slur… “Whyyyy Zayne whyyyy is it because I’m not herrrrr???? I knowwww I’m not pretty like her orrrr successful like herrrrr or know you from Adam like her! But hell I’ve been good!! I’ve done so much for you! And you don’t even giveee me minimum gratitude! That’s meeeean”, I giggle as I pace around the room…

“Please sit down you’re drunk.” “Shhhhhhhhh I speak todayyyy, I’ve been holding backkkk for tooo longggg!”, I press my finger on his lips. “These are soooo soft and plum…I was anxious whether you’d at all kisssss me toniiiightttrr! How many timesss have we evennn kisssed in our relationship?? Even forehead and cheek kisses have ceased to exist…What haveee I done wrong Zaynie??? Alll I ever yearned for is you, your affectionnn and your loveee… you know my past, my desperations, my heart, then why…why…”, my voice cracks, my eyes filling with water, becoming hazy… “I *hic* gave you a Jasmine bouquet today…you didn’t say much…at least you accepted *I giggle* they’re your favoritessss I knowwwwwww…they symbolise purityyy, looove and afftection, did you know? Of course you did…that’s what I feel forrr yewwww!” I sloppily poke at his chest with my index finger…

“I’m barely drunk…did you know I was a lightweight…? Do you know my favorite flowers or my favorite colour! No you don’t! You barely ever ask! It’s always me me me! I think of you more often than I breathe! And you don’t—” “I want the old Zayne back…I saw how you watch her…how your eyes light up…how your face embraces colours…because those are all the ways I act around you! Have you ever noticed!?”, as I sob heavily…

He was left speechless, I could see his hands clench… “You’re so much wiser than me…tell me Zayne is it all in my head?? Do you never see how I always beg for footnotes in the story of your life?! Tell me…do you…only Tolerate Me…?”, my body begs to be wrapped up in his arms…but that is just wishful thinking…

As I was a mess on the floor, he was still there…I wanted to leave, I wanted to stay…I wanna walk but I can’t, my body is shaking convulsively…

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That was all I could remember, before I passed out…the next morning, I wake up in a comfortable bed…as my inhibitions come back to me…it’s his bed…

He was getting ready to go to the hospital, my head is a mess… “You should rest…I’ll get you some painkillers—” “You’re a wonderful man.”, as I get up on my own, barely…and go to the bathroom to wash up…my face is a mess, makeup all smudged together…eyes puffy and red…thank god I don’t have work today…

…I reach home, my head now better having taken the pain killers from before…I should just—

Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!

MC was calling…not now I can’t deal with it… especially not her of all people right now…so I put my phone on silent…although she keeps on calling for a few more times…I would’ve felt bad if I didn’t hold a grudge from last night, plus I was hurt and mad at him, I cannot deal with either of them now…

…I was about to take out my diary and write when I heard the buzz at the door. I groan as I walk over to open…MC…

“(Name)! Dear lord are you alright?! I called you so many times! I was worried sick!”

“I’m alright I just—”

“This is unexpected of you (Name)! How can you be so careless!? Do you know how worried I was?! How worried Zayne was!?”

That was it that was the last straw…it ticked me off fully…

“You weren’t worried about me when you took his heart away.”, I speak sharply.

“What…”

“No don’t you dare ‘what’ me! I’m tired of this hurting! Why weren’t you there when he was available when he was single! Why why why couldn’t you come then?! First of all you come into his life and he doesn’t even tell me! He tells me nothing about his childhood, and I was fine with that, it’s his privacy his choice! Then he doesn’t tell me he’s having dinner with you! I was fine with that too! Then he starts acting completely aloof! Like I don’t even exist! I’m his girlfriend dammit!”, tears prick my eyes again… “I don’t hate you MC I don’t! I think you’re a great girl and an amazing friend to both me and Zayne…but please understand…you’re so so so nice! You’re too great! You’re too amazing at everything you do! Heck you’re even more read that me! But how the hell are you are so dumb that you can’t realise the way he looks at you! He looks at you like you’re all he sees! Like you’re his elixir of life, his honey, his will to live in this messed up world, his one and only! Have you ever ever noticed that?! No right? But I have! And I’ve tried so hard to keep it in, blaming myself for overthinking but there’s a limit a limit to each one of us, and that threshold has been crossed! So please I beg you, please let my boyfriend stay mine, please just be his friend…please!”, I breathe heavily, my body shaking convulsively, as tears stream down…

She’s left speechless…just like he was last night. O could see the tears prick at her eyes too…

“I-I am sorry I never—”

“Please just please leave…”, she doesn’t speak another word and goes…

I heave a frustrated sigh…I’m too tired, I feel dizzy…

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…Later that night…

I wanted to write in my diary, but there was another buzz at the door…who’s it now…

I drag myself off the bed as I walk over then opening the door…Zayne…

He steps in, his presence carries a strong aura…he looks…his usual cold, stoic and…angry…?

“Why are you—”

“Who gave you the permission to talk to her like that?”, he utters with pure hatred in his voice…

I freeze at that…

“If that’s what you’re here for—”

“Answer.”

“Why should I Zayne? Am I answerable to you? Is it my compulsion?? But if I remember clearly you never answered to my texts whenever you’re with her. I said what I said because I’ve had enough. I put my phone on silent and she still didn’t get the hint, I had no other choice.”

“Then that’s your manners? That’s how you treat people who are genuinely worried about you and check up on you? She’s been nothing but nice to you.”

“Oh you wanna talk about manners now?! Let’s talk! Where were your manners when you didn’t even bother telling me you went out to dinner with her, or you were at the park with her, or when I poured my fucking heart out to you last night and got no fucking ass response?! Thanks for giving me the best fucking post-anniversary present by the way.”

“You’re still hung up on that.”

“Hung up?! Zayne hello? Do you need a brain doctor or another heart doctor to check if they’re functioning all well?! Do you not realise the pain, the hurt and the betrayal I went through?! Are you void of feelings for everyone except for her?! You make me wonder if you ever saw me as something valuable. I’m your fucking girlfriend Zayne! I hated having to hear from other people about my boyfriend because he wouldn’t tell me about his whereabouts! Do you know how embarrassing that feels?! Be glad they’re not gossipers or Dr. Zayne would’ve had quite the reputation by now.”, I scoff “and do you even know how many lies I have to tell often just to make you not seem like a cold hearted asshole?! But I guess for you you thought those were all my compulsions, just like yourself…I can’t believe I read into you this wrong…I’ve always cared for you, catered to your needs, tried to make myself perfect for you?! Heck I even greet you like a battle hero returning from a war, whenever you came home!! What have you done?! A nod, a word, rarely a kiss on the cheek and forehead!? Tell me Zayne, I asked you last night I’ll ask you again today! Was it all in my head? Were we a healthy couple only in my head?! Was it just me!! Or did she cast some love spell upon you and had you enamoured—”

“Watch your tone (Name)…you barely know about her…I’m her primary care physician and I know her the best, plus she’s always been with me since childhood, I cherish her…”

“Do you know how hard she works as a Hunter, wanderers everywhere…and you don’t even know about her heart’s condition…do you know she has the Protocore Syndrome, and she could, touch wood, drop dead if gone through tremendous amount of stress??? Do you even know what the Protocore Syndrome is? If you did your research you would have.”

I stand still hearing that…I’ve heard about the Protocore Syndrome, read and researched about it, heck so many people came to our shop to collect flowers for them who died from this, or they who were suffering from it! Heck I knew about it better than most!

‘It was disease caused when Protocores, that were special energy cores dropped from high-level Wanderers, negatively affecting a person's body. There are currently three types known to affect humans, and each one causes different symptoms and levels of disease progression.’

But he didn’t know that…he barely ever asked me about my day or work…whereas I…

I look up at his face, I want to scream but I don’t, there is barely a point anymore…

“Do you know that my life’s worth research is about them and how I can save my patients, how can I save from it? You say you don’t know about my childhood, well here’s a fact I will give you, I became a cardio-surgeon because of her, because she suffered from this deadly disease…because I wanted to cure her and never lose her…she is the most important person in the world to me.”

“Do you know what it’s like to have a disease like such, when you have the case of a high probability of death at any given stance if your over stressed or overworked? You should consider yourself lucky…And as her primary physician it is my duty to care the most for her, in whichever way you take it.”

That was the last straw…that broke my heart, shattering and stepping on it completely…

“Zayne…you…wow…”, I was speechless once again, but right now…I didn’t know anything it felt like I’m in a foreign place where no one knows me…I feel like a refugee of a war…

“I have Anemia Zayne…Anemia…”, I speak softly, my voice broken, eyes filled with tears once again…I could feel him stiffen, cussing under his breath, saying he’d gone too far…too far…

“I’m…I’m sorry…I…I didn’t mean to compare any disease with another, I just—”

“Maybe the next the I should just stop taking all my meds and supplements and bleed myself close to death…or maybe if I had sickle-celled anemia, with a probability of death maybe then you would’ve noticed me…if I would’ve just laid on the bed at Akso in the ER…maybe then you’ll finally notice me…”

“I know what Protocore Syndrome is Zayne…I have everyday many customers come in to collect flowers for their dear loved ones they lost or are on the verge of losing, or even for themselves…they share me their stories and I listen as my heart breaks hearing those…all I could do was give them the best of flowers and well wishes from the bottom of my heart…I know it Zayne I do…and I’m sorry…I didn’t know about MC…I’m so so sorry…I’ll apologise to her…”

“I don’t hate her…I don’t…I— *voice cracks* I just…I was hurting like anything…and it vented out like that…I’m sorry…” *I fall to the floor, crying out loud, I don’t hold back anymore…* maybe he tried to reach out for me, but I speak up before he could…

With my broken voice, my breath coming out in heavy successions… “Please just give me closure…I’m too tired…too…tired…”

He drops down and holds me tight, as I bawl to his chest…I couldn’t anymore…it feels so natural but it’s the end…I know it is…

“Please let me…have…closure…”

Maybe his voice cracked a bit too…

“I’m sorry (Name) I’m so so sorry, I couldn’t be the man who should have treated you properly…I’m sorry I should have told you earlier…I thought I was over her but I wasn’t…maybe my brain created an image of you as her, that you were her…whenever we’d sleep together, go out, or tried to kiss…all I could imagine was her face…hence I stuck to forehead and cheek kisses…I’m so so sorry…”

As I sob and sob loudly, while he kept holding me…just like that, it was over…we were over…

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(Credits: Pinterest)

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[sotadespadas]

i have seen so many people in the fandom doing this and i also want to know !! who does my mc look better with?

choose from here :

[awesomelyanon]

Dante and Vergil

[magpiecelestial]

i do love fish 🐟 a wip

[humanjarvis]

alternative medicine

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

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

pairing: caleb x fem reader/mc

word count: 2.2k 

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

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

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

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

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

You’d really overdone it.

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

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

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

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

Lucky for you, you have friends in high places.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

And you can’t focus. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At that, Caleb freezes entirely. 

But only for a moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“N-no, it feels g—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The movie ended an hour ago.

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

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

You smell like him now. Good.

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

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

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