#then keen mind with caleb

[henrydracula]

liam o'brien loves to take feats that will probably get banned in the next campaign

[worddevourer]

Wait, is Orym's bananas high perception a trauma response to not spotting the assassins that killed his husband coming? Is it literally 'Nobody will ever be able to sneak up on the people I care about like that again?'

Like, in my head, I was going 'oh haha, this is Liam trying to make the perfect counter to someone like Vax, someone who can beat a high level rogue's minimum stealth role,' but like... in character? In character this is a man who has decided he'll never let anyone catch him unawares again.

[herenvibing]

is this a safe space to say that i don’t really enjoy the fandom woobification of essek at all and that i think it makes him a far less interesting character than he is in canon.

like it’s nice that he took up knitting post campaign but i’m more curious about whether or not he’s allowed inside veth’s home. my instinct says not for a good while

[firefrightfic]

Caleb Widogast refuses to conform to daylight savings time in the empire and claims it is the devil's work. He shows up to at 11 to his 10am class and swears he's on time.

Soltryce can't fire him because he has blackmail tenure.

[itslovethatmakespeople]

*eveyone arguing which way to go*

laura in jesters voice: wait caleb you have a keen mind. where are we going?

[consilio-cameos]

Kvothe (from The Name of the Wind) is what Caleb would have become if Bren multiclassed in Bard before meeting Trent.

[tsuyalovebot]

make him lose his cool.

suggestive and sexual content. mdni, ageless blogs dni.

xia yi zhou / caleb x reader.

cw. drabble (~1k wc, written in one sitting. ignore any typos.) no sex, but caleb popping a boner like a victorian man. afab reader (that also wears bras). mc=reader.

"caleb is an ass man!" "no, he likes tits!"

personally, i think caleb would have a near panic attack upon seeing your shoulder, elbow, or ankle.

he just does a really good job of pretending he doesn't mind it. after all, the two of you grew up together. he's had to put his hands on you many times — carrying, tending to scrapes and cuts, tickling you, ruffling your hair, squeezing your face. skinship was a language that the two of you were plenty fluent in.

but the year spent apart failed to maintain this, like some half-assed video streaming subscription, and caleb's the newborn fawn learning how to walk.

so what happens when he knocks on the room to his bedroom — it belongs to you now, technically — with a plate of breakfast before coming in, and he witnesses you sitting up, all sleepy and the neckline of his shirt slightly sliding down your shoulder?

he's going to throw himself off a cliffside. maybe even off skyhaven itself.

the plate hits the bedside table on your side with a loud clatter. none of the food spilled over, luckily. he has half a mind to garble some lame excuse about being busy and a quick good morning before trying to bolt.

but, caleb nearly snaps into two when you tug at the hem of his shirt, slumber still slurred in your words as you ask where he's going. there'd been no strength in that tug. yet, he stopped in his tracks all the same. he ends up listening to your grumbles, ones reminding him that it's his day off, remember? you promised you'd spend it with me.

"i gotta take a shower first," he chuckles, hoping his voice wasn't too shaky. please don't notice. please don't notice.

"but caleb," you keen.

god, it's like when he'd take leave from the academy for a few days just to go back to you and gran. always coming home to you, thoroughly acquainted with you not being a morning person but still making the effort to cling to him and savor every second you two spent together.

he assumed it would be the same now, but clearly, that was a mistake. because the coiling tension of warmth threatening to boil over in his stomach was nothing short of treacherous.

caleb does manage to escape; albeit pained by the half-awake whines behind him and the sound of you falling back into bed. god, how badly he wanted to cave into your demands. you don't even know the half of it.

he wonders if you've ever curled into his side of that bed he once slept on, seeking his cologne, his body, his warmth the same way he looks for your silhouette in every corner of this home. a melody he knows, but a name he can't quite place in this shell of a house that transformed in your presence.

regardless, it's really difficult to let this relationship rebuild organically when he was popping a boner over the slightest sliver of skin. the shower's streams are icy on his skin, the impromptu bath having thrown a wrench into his morning routine. he refuses to even touch himself. letting the proof of his sin soften under the biting cold of the water, despite the discomfort.

because nothing was more horrific than having his body react to you like a prepubescent teen discovering porn online for the first time.

caleb thinks he's safe after spending an hour in the bathroom, fingertips pruned and mind cooler than the iciest of planets. but as he's changed back into his clothes, he discovers you beside the door, a blanket around your sitting form and those eyelids droopy.

"pipsqueak? what're you doin' here?" he's crouching down — mortifying boner forgotten as he gathers you into his arms before he realizes it.

then, you stir. a whine muffled into the crook of his neck as you wrap your arms around him, the vibration seeming to ripple down his spinal column. the blanket falls from your body in the motions, and you're so soft compared to the firmness of his body.

his arms tighten around you on instinct and you let out a pleased sound and—

he stiffens. you weren't wearing a bra.

"caleb, you're done." you yawn, like the spoiled, pampered figurehead of royalty you are. you arch up into him, and he swears he feels several of his neurons die, dropping like flies in the empty cavity of his head.

"take me back to bed." he feels the air shift as you seem to inhale his scent. your voice softer, more content when you say, "i wanna sleep some more."

he's so fucking doomed.

[comatosebunny09]

carpe noctem [ falling action ] | sylus

— summary: he kissed you. you pretend it didn’t mean anything. sylus tries to show you it meant everything. — cw: reader is not mc, language, sexual tension, self-loathing, mutual pining, jealousy, blood & violence, self-deprecating thoughts, profanity, misunderstandings, romance, self-indulgent, wild caleb sighting, mdni — notes: thank you @subliminalwish for inspiring this part! and thank you all for reading! [ pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | pt. 7 ] — now playing: fuel to fire - agnes obel btbt - b.i

Their timing couldn’t be more impeccable—the twins. Your saving grace.

Sylus is a tempest. A storm ravaging the rickety foundation of your boat. He kisses greedy. Commanding, sipping from you like a fountain amid a desert. Swallowing the gruff little keens you make. You burn hot wherever he touches. His hands are like branding irons on your skin, amplified by the thin taffeta of your dress as they smooth up and down the curvature of your waist.

You’re dizzy when he snatches away, a growl in his throat. His lips are kiss-swollen. Burn a pretty red, stained by your lipstick. His eyes smolder like embers through the living room’s haze. Catch in the moonlight, gleaming a potent shade of scarlet. He reminds you of something beastly. Predatory. 

You did this to him?

In contrast, you’re sludge in his hands, swimming, blinking, drunk, and trying to remember how to breathe. For a moment, he appears hesitant. Gaze flits between your eyes and mouth as he holds you by your hips. Rubs reassuring circles into your hip bones with his thumbs. He’s so pretty like this. Inebriated by passion, silken white hair mussed from your greedy fingers. Expensive, pleated shirt all rumpled, bow tie loosened, composure thrown to hell.

But his phone keeps ringing. An obnoxious chime that makes your lips quirk despite the vertigo sweeping over you. It cuts through the wispy film of the night. Cleaves through the nebulous cloud of desire hanging between you, and with a bitten-off sound, he finally tugs his cell free of his pocket. 

He watches you as he brings it to his ear. Cups your cheek, brushing over your bottom lip with the worn pad of his thumb. Tugs it down, entranced by its elasticity. Its fullness. Your fingers clasp around his wrist. You nuzzle into the safety of his palm. Turn your mouth inward, blistering it with a kiss. Affection intermingled with amusement colors your eyes. He’s like a spoiled child, snatched off the playground before he was ready to leave.

“What,” he clips into the mic. 

A hesitant voice peers through the low static. Luke. “Mission accomplished, bossman.” You imagine Kieran peeking over his brother’s shoulder in the background, wariness hidden behind that gaudy bird mask. “All cleaned up over here.”

Sylus sighs something weighted. Shaky. Relieved. His shoulders drop with it, then tense again. The agitation doesn’t leave his face. Something’s on his mind. Something more pressing than a few ornery goons trying to hunt you down. You nip at his fingertips to assuage the divot forming between his brows. The taut pull of his lips. 

He hangs up without another word, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Draws you close, preparing to kiss you breathless once more. 

But it seems fate is a cruel, mischievous mistress, intervening when she deems it fit.

Because, this time, your phone rings. 

You stiffen. Sylus glowers at your—his—coat pocket. Studies you. He’s conflicted. Looks as if the world is descending into hell around him. Like he wants to take your phone and shatter it on the wall. You offer him a placating smile. Smooth a hand over his cheek before tugging your cell out. It’s only fair you leave him as on edge as he left you. 

He doesn’t let it deter him, pulling you impossibly closer. Peppers your neck with kisses, drawing a soft huff of laughter from your chest. Your head falls back, and he cradles it with his fingers, baring your throat to him. Groans something appreciative, writing the most beautiful compliments of all against your skin with his lips. 

You’re not thinking when you answer, too swept up in the moment. Dizzy from the needy drag of his lips over your carotid. Don’t think until a familiar lilt touches your ear, and a cold thrill shoots down your spine.

Little. Ms. Hunter. 

Fuck. 

Reality trickles in like the slow creep of a rainstorm, mooring you to the spot. You shove against Sylus’ chest. He ingests you with pinched brows, heavy lids, an open mouth. ‘What’s wrong?’ his expression reads. He’s desperate. Needy. Like you’re his lifeline, an IV drip.

You push against him again, chest so very hard and so wonderfully defined against the heel of your palm. You need space. You can’t breathe, but for an entirely different reason now. 

His hands reluctantly drop from your waist, falling listlessly at his sides. He turns away, rubbing the scruff of his neck with a sigh.

“What’s up?” you bite. Try to mask the waver of your voice, your quivering tendons. 

“Hey, how ya doin’?” She’s infuriatingly chipper. Happy for someone halfway across the world, as if she knows you’re up to no good. 

You don’t bother with pleasantries. You’re caught between wanting to laugh and cry. Damn the universe for spoiling your fun. “What do you need?”

The hunter’s hesitant for a beat. You envision her shifting her weight between her feet. Fiddling with her nails, her gaze cast to the floor. It’s not often you’re terse with her, at least not these days. You worked through those kinks of your relationship months back. But forgive you for being a little impatient. A little snippy when you finally satiated the ache between your teeth. 

“Sooo, I’m back earlier than expected. My ride cancelled on me. Would you mind picking me up from the airport? I’ll pay you back! Promise!” 

“You can’t catch a cab?” You push back your hair. Peer over your shoulder, hand cupped around the mic as if you’re whispering a secret. Sylus is behind you a little ways off, hand on hip; silhouette suffused in amber as he examines some picture frames on the sofa table, pretending not to eavesdrop.  

“Yeah, but it’s late! I don’t wanna get kidnapped, ya know?”

You suppress a frustrated sound, disbelieving. Not just of her, but the timing of everything. The reminder of what you’ve done and what you still want to do. One day, you’ll learn not to answer your phone. And one day, you’ll learn to tell your conscience to fuck right the hell off.

“Fine. Yeah, sure. Just…gimme a minute.”

“You’re the best! I don’t care what the twins say about you!” 

The call ends, and you sigh, leaning into your palm, propped against the frost-bitten windowpane. It grounds you in a way, its crispness a welcome contrast to your fevered skin. 

You jolt when Sylus emerges behind you in the form of artful hands melding to your waist. In the form of warm breath kissing the sensitive space behind your ear. His lips graze the shell of it. You snatch away as if scorched by fire, turning, spine acquainting itself with the window. Space. You need space. 

He gives you no time to breathe, spilling over you like liquid fire. Cages you in with his arms. Angles closer, swaddling you in the dangerous warmth of his body. Bathes you in the bewitching scent he carries, in the lazy, lust-laden stir of his eyes. You shirk away from his touch when his fingertips graze your cheek. He bristles.

Your heart pinches at the wounded look on his face. At how his fingers twitch before curling into a loose fist and falling back to his side. You duck away from him, a nervous smile dragging itself across your face. 

“She’s back,” you state plainly. It tastes bitter, acknowledging it aloud. Your belly swoops. You think you might be sick. “Asked if I could pick her up.”

His expression slackens. Gaze descends to the floor. “This late?”

You nod solemnly. 

Shouldn’t he be happy his Aphrodite has returned?

It’s unnervingly quiet between you now, making way for the whisper of the wind threading through the leaves outside where the sticky click of your lips and labored breaths once lived. 

Your throat clicks when you swallow. You want nothing more than to pull him against you again, to be wrapped in the possessive circle of his arms. To pick up where you left off before morality leaked in. But that call served as your reality check, and you’re both grateful and resentful it came when it did.

Sylus beholds you with beseeching eyes. Looks as if he might protest, lips quivering around an excuse to draw you back in. But he drops it. Instead, he opts for, “I’ll bring the car around,” sounding so uncharacteristically somber that you wince. 

He brushes past you through the front door, swallowed by the dust-speckled night. Leaves you to nurse the violent thrum of your heart and battle the maelstrom in your head. 

She’s back. Things will return to normal. This moment never happened. This night never happened. 

Still, your lips burn with the remnants of the kiss. You unconsciously touch the trembling, distended things, deciding to tuck the memory into the furthest hulls of your mind. 

He’s not yours, remember? Never will be. Never could be.

—

The ride to the airport was uncomfortably tense. 

Sylus tried vainly to reignite the flames sparked by the night—little displays of affection, possession. Spindly fingers curling around your thigh, a peek at you through the corner of his vision, knuckles deftly brushing your cheek to bring you back to the present. 

You inched away from his touch despite every synapse in your brain screaming for you to let it happen. He gave up after the third try. Gripped the gear stick, white-knuckled and radiating a silent dejectedness. 

You forced out a shaky breath when the overwhelmingly bright, fluorescent airport signs panned into view. 

“Heya!” chirped Ms. Hunter, pulling you into a tight hug once you dismounted the car. “You look all fancy. What have you been up to?”

You were stiff in her embrace, a tight smile pulling at your lips. She smelled of stale perfume and wet earth. Long hair tickled your neck. She radiated a warmth you envied as you rigidly returned the hug.

“Oh, you know. Nefarious things and all that.”

Ms. Hunter drew back, hands roosted on your shoulders. Her smile faltered when she got a good look at you. When the driver’s door slammed shut, and Sylus rounded the car to stand behind you, hands stuffed in his pockets. Her honey-dipped eyes flit over your face. She sensed something was up. Of course, she did. Anyone within a 50-mile radius could see the tension dangling off your shoulders. She looked like she wanted to interrogate you, but—

“Welcome back,” said Sylus, his tone easy. You were thankful for the save. Didn’t have to look back to know he was wearing that familiar cant to his lips. A look he, until tonight, only wore for her. “I take it your mission went well, given how early you returned.” 

You would've tasted the faint notes of indignation there had you not been so swept up in your head. 

“You have no idea,” she laughed, exhaustion lancing through her words. You pat her head, fondly ruffling her hair. 

He helped her put her suitcase in the trunk as she animatedly regaled the details of her mission. He smirked and nodded, listening intently. You tuned everything out in favor of listening to your pulse drum beneath your skin. 

Sylus held the passenger door open, watching you expectantly. Signaled for you to get in with his eyes as Ms. Hunter stood awkwardly behind you. The tension was tangible. Obvious. It made you sick.

He frowned when you forwent the passenger seat, sliding into the back. The front seat was always her place. You were merely squatting there, keeping the leather warm in her absence. You caught sight of the tense set of his jaw when he shut the door behind her. Your heart sank to your feet. 

As Sylus eased the car onto the highway, they filled the stiff, blue-light-tinged air with small talk. Their conversation was seamless as if no time had lapsed between them. You propped an elbow on the door, watching the scenery fly by in a blur beyond your window. 

And you shut your eyes against those scarlet irises occasionally observing you in the rearview mirror, a silent question brewing beneath bowed lashes.

‘Have I done something wrong?’

No. Never. It’s you who’s royally fucked up.

—

“Listen, sweetheart. You both seem like nice girls. But I ain’t budgin’.”

You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time. Scoff, a rigid set between your teeth. You’ve been like this for what feels like hours, propped against a wall, arms crossed, mind tumultuous. 

A few days after the hunter returned, Sylus sent his two gems to reclaim some of his property. Thelma and Louis at it again. 

You should be thrilled. You’ve been itching for a distraction since that night. When you let your emotions overwhelm you, and you gave into your selfish little whims. You can’t focus on much else, the pressure of Sylus’ lips still ingrained in your mind. The texture of his shirt sleeves between your fingers, the sound of his voice as he rasped his satisfaction into your skin. It replays like torn film reels in your mind, refusing to release you from its flimsy clutches. 

Since that night, he’s been uncharacteristically attentive. Filling the space with errant touches and lingering gazes. Rare quirks of his lips, an affectionate, secretive undernote to his timbre whenever he speaks to you. And his eyes. They bear more emotion than what you’re accustomed to seeing. 

It’s all been so very confusing, this new attitude of his. You don’t like it when things aren’t clear-cut and dry. Hate to beat around the bush.

You figured his attention would shift with the center of his universe back in rotation. 

To your chagrin and surprise, you’re wrong. You assume he’s only being so disarming because he needs you. Not just as his pretty little violent marionette. His honeypot. When Ms. Hunter inevitably leaves again—the life of a hunter must be so taxing—he’ll need someone to fall back on. A failsafe to keep his loneliness at bay. You just so happen to fit the bill.

The notion makes you scowl. The butcher’s voice isn’t helping curb your vexation, his laughter obnoxious and filled with phlegm. His fat ass isn’t taking either of you seriously. Of course, if you were him, you wouldn’t, either. 

Ms. Hunter’s been at this for a while, playing good cop to your bad. Trying to nice her way into getting him to sign the deed to his property back to Sylus. Really, it belongs to the latter man. He was just allowing the butcher to squat here while he carried out his work for Onychinus, slaughtering its opposition and packaging up their remains like fresh meat, shipping them off to anyone who dared utter the organization’s name in vain.

His use has run its course. He’s grown sloppy. Complacent. Disloyal. Been letting other faction leads buy him off, selling his knack of butchering to the highest bidder. He should be so lucky you’re not here to slit his throat.

Inwardly, you wonder if someday, you’ll suffer the same fate. If Ms. Hunter will be sent to snuff you out—your successor wiping you off the map like a blip on the radar. 

Until then, you’ll make yourself as indispensable as possible. Prove your worth. 

You push off the wall with a huff, face set with determination as adrenaline spumes through you. You close the distance between you and the hunter in four brisk strides. Snatch her pistol from the holster at her waist, barring her sentence in her throat. It’s weighted. Loaded. Good. 

You rack a round. Release the safety. The butcher barely has time to register anything before you aim. Inhale. Exhale. Pull the trigger at the lowest lull of your breath. And it’s so gratifying, the sound of a bullet whizzing past his ear and embedding itself in the plaster behind him. 

He’s petrified with fright behind his desk, mouth hinged open. Ms. Hunter blurs into focus beyond the front sight, turning incredulous eyes on you before narrowing them. The barrel’s still smoking, a satisfying, wispy cloud furling skyward. The leather grip squeaks in your hand, you’re holding it so tight. 

“Was that really necessary?” she berates. She’s doing that whisper-yelling thing. You’re in for an earful later. 

You shrug half-heartedly, reholstering her weapon. Push past, tugging the sleeves of your blazer up. “I’ve had enough of this,” you grate, snatching your leather gloves from your pocket and slipping them on with practiced precision. 

Neither of them knows what’s coming until you step behind the butcher. Until you’ve taken a fistful of sweaty, grease-slicked hair and acquainted his face with the bubbling finish of his desk with a loud thwack!

Ms. Hunter watches the scene unfold with horror twisting up her features. She’s rooted to the spot. Something plops on the desk. Evolves into a steady, sticky drip. Blood. Corrupted speckles of red staining the deed you’re meant to get signed. 

You lock eyes with your partner, bending at the waist over the butcher’s shoulder, grip unyielding on his hair. A show of power. Dominance, meant to convey, ‘This is how it’s done.’

A smirk twitches onto your lips. Your mouth brushes the outer shell of his ear, voice coming out deceptively doting. “Sign the fucking paper, or I’ll string you up like one of your little pigs and turn you into dog shit.”

His voice is wet. Strained, unflattering streaks of crimson leaking from his nose to puddle on the desk. “But—”

The hunter winces when you slam his face down again. He’s disoriented now. Swaying. If not for your iron grip on his hair, he’d fall into the arms of unconsciousness. 

“Okay, okay!” he relents, garbled and wet. 

You release his hair, shoving at his head none-too-gently, a facsimile of a smile rounding your lips. Perch a hand on his shoulder, squeezing with enough coercion to remind him of your potency. “Pleasure doing business with you, old man.”

The air thickens with fear. It’s quiet, save for the scratch of the butcher’s pen, as he shakily scrawls his signature on the deed, relinquishing his shop back to Sylus. You scrutinize the blood-flecked paper, satisfied. 

“I’ll give you until midnight to get the fuck out of here,” you casually say, snatching off your gloves to smooth out the lapels of your blazer. “Otherwise, I can’t guarantee your safety after.”

You leave the butcher to nurse a broken nose and a nasty headache, pushing past Ms. Hunter with a cocksure grin. 

“What the hell was that?!” she squeaks, rushing to keep pace with you as you step into the warm atmosphere outside, walking towards the sleek outline of your SUV.

“Business.”

“Yeah, but…did you have to threaten him like that? I mean, you could’ve killed the guy!”

With a scowl, you snatch the passenger door open for her to get in. “If you have a problem with how I do things, maybe you’re not cut out for this life, sweetheart.”

She scoffs disbelievingly. Haughty as she plops down on the passenger seat, crossing her arms. You’re being more venomous than usual. More pushy. You’re too far gone. You’ll apologize for making her your punching bag later. 

“What’s up with you?” she pressures once you’ve settled on the driver's side, discarding your gloves in the center console. Leans closer, squinting. You ease back. “You’ve been more bitchy than usual. You and Sylus have been acting weird.” 

She’s closer now, bursting your metaphorical bubble. Dangerously perceptive. You avoid eye contact as if doing so will reveal all the contents of your mind. Not that you have to. She’s alarmingly observant for someone who acts so naive. 

“Did something happen between you?”

You side-eye her as you start the engine, unknowingly confirming her suspicions. She quirks a brow, catching onto your game. Falls back against the leather of her seat to sulk over folded arms. “I knew it. Unbelievable. Didn’t I tell you to play nice while I was gone?!” 

“I’m always nice,” you counter under your breath, glaring at the console screen as you back up the SUV. 

The steering wheel scrubs between your hands after you shift to Drive, and as you slide the vehicle into the steady stream of traffic, you catch sight of the blood mottling the cuff of your sleeve, begging to differ. 

Maybe you’re being more ornery than you think.     

— 

The base is a network of paneled walls and glittering floors. Had you not been well-versed with its layout, you would surely get lost. But you’ve been here too many times. Once slept between these walls, laughed with the twins, and shared a glass of wine or two with your boss. 

Sometimes, he’d let you lie in his bed when your head was too fuzzy, and you couldn’t stop smiling after the wine left you tenuous and dazed. Nothing ever happened, much to your dismay. He was a gentleman through and through. And you never questioned him on why it was always his bed.

Things changed once Ms. Hunter entered the scene. 

This place used to be your asylum. Your respite from a world so vapid. For a moment, you could pretend the blood caked beneath your nails didn’t exist. And you could pretend you weren’t a weapon to be used at your employer’s disposal. But these days, you’ve avoided his mansion like a sickness, instead retreating to your own place in the city. You’re impeding. These walls no longer welcome you. 

You feel like a specter with unresolved conflict as you round the hall where Sylus’ study sits at its center. Your heart hurls itself against your rib cage. You’ve been distant since that night, shying away from his attempts to disarm you. All half-hearted ventures to keep you dangling on a frayed string until he next needs you to fill the void the hunter inevitably leaves. 

You tamp down your anxiety when the cool steel of the door handle bites into your palm. The voice inside is muffled. Deep. Resonant. Sylus is talking business. Orchestrating things that don’t concern you until he makes them your problem. You’ll be quick. Don’t want to stick around longer than necessary.  

Pushing open the heavy mahogany wood, you’re greeted by a shock of white nestled behind his desk. He’s on the phone. Looks up upon your entry, scarlet eyes narrowing, then softening with recognition. Your throat thickens.

You try to ignore how his look makes your stomach somersault. How every crevice of his office smells like him—bourbon, raw energy, and all things safe. You’re thrown back into the memory of that dusky night. The seal of his lips to yours, his fingers easing over the contours of your body like points on a star map.

Ignoring your thoughts, you conquer the distance between the door and his desk in measured strides, looking everywhere but at him. It’s too risky to maintain eye contact. He has a hold on you without trying. Without the straggly pull of his Evol, without the smoky compulsion of his voice. 

You plant the deed on the desk’s center with a muted thunk. His fingertips brush your knuckles, over the clutch of your hand. Static radiates between you. You reel back quicker than you mean to, bereft of the roughened slide of his fingers. Clear your throat, straighten your jacket. There’s a pinch between his brows, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. 

Sylus peers down at the paper, an inquisitive brow lifting at the oxidized brown dappling it. You give him a half-hearted shrug. You did your part. How you got there is a story for another day.

You don’t wait for him to dismiss you, wordlessly stepping away with a curt nod. He continues his conversation over your shoulder, and your body swells with relief. It’s short-lived when Ms. Hunter brushes past you on your way out of the door, tight-lipped and side-eyeing you with all the vexation of the world. 

Before you leave, you wait for the door to click shut behind you, catching wind of the hunter’s ire before thick layers of wood distort it. 

“Hang up the phone. We need to talk. Now.”

—

It’s a pleasure to dance. To forget yourself. 

Lux is lively tonight. Colored with mirth and strobing lights. Pounding music. You feel it in your chest as you move, a seductive, rehearsed smile crooking your lips. You rake your fingers through your hair. Drag your hands down the sweep of your waist, swiveling your hips, playing up your allure. You don’t have to do much to garner attention—it’s your job, remember?

You peacock about in the white metal birdcage you're housed in. Grab the bars, grinning down at the writhing crowd. It was your idea to give Lux a little umph, sweet-talking Sylus into having massive bird cages mounted from the ceiling. Fitting, given his obsession with pretty caged things.

Lux’s theme is ever-changing, courtesy of your eccentric mind. It keeps people coming in droves. Forces his enemies to rear their hideous mugs, lured to the nightclub by the promise of pretty women. 

The air between you was still dense. Rife with pheromones and unbidden feelings. But you were back donning your playful, arrogant mask as if the night you shared never existed. Back to flirting and giving Sylus the piss. 

The large faux wings you wear are surprisingly light. Stark, like the beautiful white tiger lounging on one side of the cage. The Bengal tiger yawns wide, giving you a show of pointed teeth. Teeth that could easily rip you asunder, yet he’s as docile as a house cat when you bend to pet through soft tufts of white. 

He slow-blinks at you, his gorgeous eyes shining like emeralds uncovered in a cave. You smile as you smooth your thumb over his nose. A pink tongue darts out to lick your palm. He reminds you of yourself—capable of extreme violence, yet docile in patient hands.

Your skin prickles. You notice you’re being watched, but not in a way you’re used to. A way that typically exudes desire. 

You turn to ingest a set of galaxy-infused eyes watching you intently through the throng of people. Youthful pockets of fat hang beneath his lower lids. A dark sweep of hair, thick brows. He towers over the crowd, a distinct cutout of virility and shrouded intentions. You don’t recall ever seeing him before. 

When your gazes intermingle, he smiles something corrupted. It doesn’t reach his eyes. You’re all too familiar with that look—one of a predator scoping out its next meal. Prey it intends to take its time eviscerating, licking its bones clean.

You smile all the more wider, and you smooth your hands over your body, maintaining eye contact as you play up the theatrics. It’s ritualistic in a way, how you move. Like you’re provoking him. You don’t know who this man is, but he’s ballsy, stepping into your den, challenging you.  

You tear your eyes away when the door to your cage swings open behind you, rocking it slightly on its hinges. A sizable hand peers in. You glance out, met with a riotous mop of white. Sylus. Gaze half-slit, relaxed. 

“Take five,” he says above the thumping music. 

You peer over your shoulder while taking his hand. The stranger you earlier locked eyes with has vanished, almost as if he were never there. You don’t pursue it. Not now at least. You allow Sylus to coax you down from the cage via hands at your waist. Stumble into him once on the ground, the air siphoned from your lungs. You're dizzy and breathless, being so close. He’s warm, smells divine, and you feel safe. Your palms press against his chest, his fingers wrapped about the crooks of your elbows to steady you.

He studies you with a reverent gleam to his irises as if he intends to kiss you, uncaring of any witnesses. Any questions. You shake away the thought, remembering yourself—your stance in his life. You offer him half a smile before retreating past him to the private bar for a drink. Something to ease your nerves, to cool your fevered skin.

Sylus’ expression hardens behind you as he scrutinizes the space you once stared at yourself. You don’t see the tenebrous threads of his Evol pouring from his body, licking the air. Don’t feel his aura bleeding a quieted malice, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. 

— tags: @unknown-ends, @viqlume, @nicohii, @beewilko, @lunebulous, @subliminalwish, @emneedshelp, @inkonparchment, @snowfall-jess, @bingbongchu, @greeenbeean, @shiorihoshino, @sillyfreakfanparty, @glamouroki, @midiplier, @kiri-tuk, @delulusimps, @moonlight-inthe-sea

climax 2.0 | masterlist | resolution

[heartyluv]

Note: Apologies for my abrupt and brief radio silence, luvlys. I missed you guys and worked on this for you at some point while I was gone. I hope you enjoy! 😚

Warning: Smut (protected sex!), please don’t do what reader does in this irl omg LOLLL

Word Count: 2.9K (why can’t i keep anything shortttt)

Summary: Caleb reallyyy likes the new delivery girl.

Horny!Caleb/DeliveryGirl!Reader

Somehow in the span of Caleb ordering himself dinner and waiting for it to arrive, his dick had gotten hard. The desperation to have some sort of relief was overriding any hunger he felt, making it impossible for him to sit still on his living room couch.

It was one of those moments where it just hit him—where nothing necessarily provoked it, but he felt that subtle ache in his sweatpants that became too bothersome to ignore the longer he tried. He wanted to hold out since he wasn’t too keen on the idea of being mid stroke, only to be forced to stop and deal with rushing to wash his hands whilst trying to contain what would inevitably be a very obvious hard-on in the event that his food got to him quicker than he anticipated.

It’s because it’s happened to him before that he’s so wary.

But with the twenty minutes that passed, he couldn’t help but surrender to the greed within him and assured his horny mind that he definitely had it in himself to make it quick—that he could come fast enough before the usual delivery man showed up.

Unfortunately for him, though, at the same moment that he picked up his phone to watch one of his favorited videos while he jerked himself off until he couldn’t take anymore, the bell rang.

If that wasn’t a way to make a man soften, he didn’t know what else could.

“Gotta be kidding me,” he chuckled to himself and shook his head. Throwing his phone down onto the soft cushions, he let out an exaggerated huff as he stood and mentally chastised his cock to behave. Once he approached the door, he fixed his demeanor and briefly checked below the belt to make sure he was presentable before he opened it with a polite smile.

But almost as quickly as he sported it, it dropped just as fast.

It wasn’t Mr. Russo, the older salt and pepper haired pizza delivery man he’s pretty cool with. Instead it was you, a sight so fucking captivating that all intentions he had to disregard the problem in his pants was fair to chalk up as relatively implausible.

You smiled at him so sweetly, the sound of separating velcro grating his nerves as it clashed with and overpowered your whimsical voice when you went to pull his pizza out of its heat-holding bag.

“Good evening!” you chirped. “One large cheese pie with pep and mush for…” Taking a brief look at the receipt on top of the box, you continued. “Caleb?”

He shouldn’t have been getting hard all over again when he saw you in the first place—that was a given. You weren’t some piece of meat, rather just a woman doing her job. But he couldn’t help but be near steel when his name rolled off your tongue, leaving him utterly bewitched as the innocence in your recitation somehow made it even more alluring.

He hated to be brief in his efforts to survey the beauty that is you. From light denim jeans that were damn near painted on to your grey collared uniform shirt with the pizzeria’s logo splayed across your chest doing nothing but outlining the curves of your breasts perfectly, there was no way he could be normal about you.

Oh, and your visor. Yeah, that was cute, too.

“T—That’s me,” he stuttered before clearing his throat, but he couldn’t be embarrassed about the subtle voice crack when your eyes mirrored patience and understanding. It made him wonder what they’d look like when replaced with lust and pleasure.

Would you let him find out?

Selfishly, he wanted to hear more of you. What better to do than spark conversation?

“Mr. Russo doing alright?” he inquired as you handed him his meal. “I don’t think he’s missed a day before.”

“Oh, he’s fine! He’s been busy training a few new hires, so he’s in-store for now. He told me some regulars might be confused to see someone other than him delivering their food,” you chuckled.

“Ah,” Caleb nods, incapable of ignoring the shudder down his spine when your soft fingertips grazed his skin after he took the boxed piping hot cheesy delicacy that was waiting for him. “I assume you’re one of them? I’ve…never seen you before when I went.”

“Yeah, actually. Started two weeks ago.”

“Cool, cool,” he nodded, the insistent throbbing of his cock only getting spurred on the more you held eye contact with him. He was torturing himself at this point, but he couldn’t bare to see you walk away. Not when you’d be a perfect solution.

Realistically though, you couldn’t go anywhere even if you wanted to. He still hadn’t paid you, and it was the fact that you were just standing there in silence with the bag on your side and a calm tolerance etched across your features that made him realize he never got the cash out his wallet after placing his order.

“Shit!” his eyes widened, ultimately failing at shaking away his salacious thoughts when his gaze briefly landed on your plush thighs that he couldn’t help but crave to be in between. “I’m so sorry. Give me a minute. $19.50, right?”

“No worries,” you assure. “Happens to the best of us. And yup, $19.50!”

Just as he turns around to rush and go fetch your payment, a quick thought comes to his mind. He gives you his full attention again, pressing his lips together as he wondered if it was wiser to just let you remain where you are. But Caleb wouldn’t be the man he is if he wasn’t a gentleman.

“You can…” he points a thumb backwards into his apartment. ���wait inside if you want. I’m not entirely sure where my wallet is at the moment and I’d feel awful about you waiting in this warm hallway if it takes me a second to find it.”

Well…it is hot. Even though the sun had set, with this heat wave, it was a still a sweltering 85 degrees on this humid July night, and it somehow felt worse as you stood in the clean yet suffocating hall of his building.

But you knew better—you knew you had zero business going into a stranger’s house, let alone a man’s. You should’ve quickly declined already and made sure he knew you didn’t mind waiting as long as you needed to in the uncomfortable temperatures.

Instead, his alluring smile, strong muscles, and captivating voice that he so smoothly exudes, were like kryptonite along with the cool air that wisps against your sweat slicked skin, calling to you from behind him.

Mr. Russo knows him and knew this was my last delivery before I headed back. It’ll be fine. Besides, he seems harmless, and I don’t feel there’s anything to worry about.

You were trying to convince yourself, and it sure enough worked because with the survival skills of a baby deer, you swallowed down your hesitance and accepted his offer before he stepped aside to let you in.

Never did you think that when you woke up this morning, got ready for work, and went about your day until you got the address for your last delivery, that you’d be getting fucked by the customer.

How you got here was just as—if not more—surprising. You have never slept with a stranger before. Ever. But the man getting ready to pop that cherry seemed like a more than suitable candidate.

When you waited for Caleb to find his wallet and two minutes turned to five, a part of you grew concerned when the busying footsteps ceased.

You didn’t anticipate that when you embarked on your search to make sure he was okay, you’d find him in his bathroom with the hem of his white tank top in his mouth to suppress his groans as he desperately pumped his cock in his hand.

A normal and more plausible reaction would’ve been to run out, to apologize profusely for the interruption, to even offer the pizza for free—anything to get you out. But he never stopped touching himself and you couldn’t stop staring as his precum beaded at his flushed tip until he took it to work the sticky substance down his length before it went to waste on the rug.

He had let the fabric fall from between his lips and kept his eyes on you the slower his movements went, abs flexing with any subtle shift. Breathlessly, seemingly still cocky despite the pink tint on his cheeks, he purred with a smirk, “Why don’t you join me? I’ll tip you nicely for your help.”

And it was with great surprise to both of you that you nodded. Not a moment of hesitance was shared when you got closer and let him kiss down your neck as your body pressed into him, feeling the heaviness of his cock against your belly.

Not only was he handsome, but he made you feel a type of arousal that you don’t think you’ve experienced before. It was consuming, foreign—but it was something your mind and body knew only he would be capable of stoking the flames of and dousing them when the time came. Weirdly enough, you trusted him enough to take care of the temple that is your body.

There was no need to prep you, your cunt already slick with desire and clenching fervently in your white cotton panties from the need to have him as deep as you anticipated he’d go. So when you assured him of that and he was given your consent, he bent you over his countertop to make you watch the yearning in your pupils as he pulled a condom out from the drawer.

Only an inkling of gentleness was used when he tugged your jeans and the thin material against your pussy down, revealing only the necessities and leaving you just as exposed as he is.

He rubbed down your puffy slit back and forth as he expertly ripped open the golden foil packaging with his teeth and rolled the lubricated condom down his veiny cock. Your walls clenched tightly in excitement at the sight alone.

When he finally breached your hole, there was no such thing as masturbation in his mind anymore after getting the opportunity to have you like this. He almost came inside the rubber like he was feeling the tight warmth of a pussy for the first time, but that’s exactly what your spongey walls were to him.

He’s never felt anything so snug and perfect in his life, and the whimper you two vocalized together as your bodies joined made him believe that the feeling was shared.

The way your eyebrows knitted with pleasure and pouty lips parted as he buried himself to the hilt in one swift motion was so euphoric to witness. It was almost like he could feel your bliss mingling with his own.

How could he possibly imagine giving up something so special?

“S—so full…mmph…” Your head dropped between your shoulders for a moment from the overwhelming feeling, and the erotic pitch in your tone made his cock twitch insistently inside of you.

“You suck me in so good,” he cooed with a exasperated grin, teeth tugging on his bottom lip as his eyes worshipped your beautiful stretch marks. Your back arched as far as you could go to let him reach the most personal parts of you. Shamelessly, you met him thrust for thrust to answer his question.

“Keep fucking yourself on me…just like that…”

His gaze met yours briefly in the large mirror before it went back to watch how your slick made the condom glisten when it caught in the light. Even with it on, it was like he could feel every glide against your insides as if he were bare.

“You’re so fuuucking soaked.” The deep grunts masked over his words made your stomach flip. Or maybe he was just that deep in your guts. Perhaps it was both.

His powerful hips rutted into your plush flesh to make the echos of smacking skin an entrancing sound he wished he had access to whenever he wanted.

Caleb couldn’t help but have his hands all over you—gripping your ass, smacking it to make it jiggle more than it already was, and gripping your hips to bring you close when you felt far. Addicted was too insufficient of a word to express how far gone he was.

“You’re my special delivery girl, aren’t you?” His hold grew firmer and you were thankful for it because without that pinch as a reminder, you would’ve already been in the clouds and completely taken.

“I am….I am…” you chant, the mouthwatering sting of his heavy balls against your clit making you nothing but a mess beneath him.

And you took on all of his onslaughts with delight, stars gleaming in your vision when you snaked your hand down to your sensitive bundle of nerves to make your orgasm come faster. If you didn’t, you were almost certain it would bring you to tears.

“C—Caleb, please don’t stop,” you mewled, your whines increasing as his pace did the same.

“Only you could get me to…” He fisted your shirt to make sure you remained pressed to him so that he could keep that intoxicating momentum.

You found yourself wondering if you hit the sex partner jackpot with the way he was slamming into your heat and begging you for more when he already had it all. Slender digits hastily circled your clit, the combination of that and the man buried within you making it hard to differentiate where you began and he ended.

“You’re gonna make me c—come…I’m about to…oh fffuckk,” you cried, your muscles choking him and making his own impending climax inevitable as your sharp breaths and jolting body became his motivation. You nearly became slack against the heated surface, your already drenched cunt turning into a waterfall from his unrelenting thrusts. Your mewls shuddered as they escaped your throat and were full of desire the more he used you to chase his own high.

Your unyielding hold around his dick only allowed Caleb a few more strokes before his actions stuttered behind you, his consistency faltering as a familiar pressure built inside of him. His heart pounded and ecstasy coursed through his system before heavy streams of cum pulsed from the head of his cock, flooding the thin latex that separated him from filling you to the brim until all you could do was thank him for it.

He was speechless, watching how your thick thighs shook and your fat pussy trembled around his throbbing length.

“I don’t usually do this,” he pushed out a winded titter. “Just fucking anyone that lets me, I mean. I have self control—I don’t want you to think that I don’t. But there must be something about you…”

You felt a surge of warmth in your chest as his thumb caressed your exposed skin while he tried his best to find the right words.

“Neither do I,” you admit. “But…I really enjoyed it. Maybe I need to be delivering to you more often.”

He snorted unexpectedly, nodding and licking his lips. “I can agree.”

You tensed and he hissed when he slipped out of your delicate body after giving you a warning. He tied the condom once he pulled it off before disposing of it, and you kept your eyes on him—part of it was simply out of curiosity about who you just slept with and the other in silent admiration.

Caleb was aloof to your staring while he cleaned off his cock and helped slide your pants back up from behind as you remained bent over until he brought them high enough that you needed to stand.

God, was he pretty. From his sharp jaw, angled nose, and soft hair—he was a perfect embodiment of anyone’s dream.

“What?” he asked shyly. You damn near fell out when you watched him blush like he wasn’t a different person just seconds ago.

“Nothing.” His arms come around to zip you up and button your jeans. “Just…I think I like looking at you.”

“You think?”

“I have to get to know you before I’m sure.”

“That’s fair.” His hands rested on you, pressing more kisses down the side of your throat. “You could stay. I’ll tell you everything you wanna know.”

“Of course you’d offer that,” you tease. “But I have to bring the money back to the store. I’m probably raising alarms already with how long I’ve been gone.”

“I can call Mr. Russo.” His hair tickles your cheeks the further he goes. “Tell him I’ll pay him double—no, triple—to let it slide. Would you stay then?”

“We’ve always been taught to be wary of strangers, Caleb.”

“I was just inside your pretty pussy, baby. I know what you feel like when you come, how you bite your lip when she…” his large hand goes between your thighs and cups you through your jeans. “feels good. Now I even know that penetration alone isn’t enough to get you off. And I’d like to learn more. Trust me, we’re a little bit past that stranger phase, don’t you think?”

Now you’re the one with a heated face. “Maybe.”

“I won’t try to convince you. It’s your call, but I…wouldn’t mind getting to know my helper on a deeper level.”

You audibly laugh, making him smile. He seems to like all the sounds you make.

“I’ll even let you take a picture of my ID so you can send it to anyone you want to for your safety and peace of mind. If you do wanna stay, you tell me whatever I need to do to make you comfortable.”

You turn around to face him. Placing your thumb over his lips, you press yours to the digit and smirk as he frowns over the barrier you’ve placed. “Soon.”

He reluctantly accepts defeat, the pit in his stomach already forming at the thought of you leaving.

“Soon,” he parrots, only his cadence makes it sound more like a promise.

Once he actually gives you the cash and the generous tip like he promised, Caleb sulks all the way to your comical car with a cartoon pizza mascot on top, shutting the door after you get behind the wheel and pressing a tender smooch to your forehead when you roll the window down to say goodbye one more time.

“No goodbyes,” he says firmly. “See you later.”

You grin so hard that it makes the apples of your cheeks pop. “I’ll see you later, Caleb.”

The needy man watches you pull out of your parking spot and fixates on your taillights until they disappear into the night and you’re completely out of sight.

Thankfully though, with your phone number saved and despite an undoubtedly cold pizza upstairs that he needs to reheat, Caleb now has a newfound specialty he plans to ensure becomes a permanent addition to his palate.

🍎 Tags: @innergardentoadpony @teacupwaifu @mcdepressed290 @calebapplepie @xcelfer @honeymoonfleur @obeythebutler @notsurewhattocallthisblog8888 @honeycrispangels @dummiebunny @sucre-princesse @brailsthesmolgurl @klossnite @grlyeetswrld @moonchildjae00 @caien @multisstuff @littledarlingsthings @purpleamethyst25 @lazygelpen @meadowinthesky @grackerzzz @nod4mnm3rcyy @loveinorion @ur-l0cal-crypt1d @inutrasha94 @cowaungabungabby @gravity-pilot @nyanahogini @rosiesluv @goochfiddler99 @torturedbabyapple @kiyadeleine @carcelswaifu @blushofeve @whattnanii @ashirelle @sylvieisoffline @saturnquartz @dewmarionette @horanghaeegr @iconoclastoc @beesin03 @dramaticalsachan @ajyoursgirl

♾️ Tags: @starryeyed-apple @asiatic-apple @sensual-study @sweetcalebb @asiaticapple @raemanova @awquaz @callads7 @floatinginaer @crimsonsylus @aquarianbeat

Creds to @/saradika for the pizza & star dividers!

[strwbrychffoncke]

"baby ,i care for you,, 2.6k words synopsis: caleb nurses you back to health contains: fluff! lads caleb x f!reader (caleb calls you "good girl" + "silly girl" x1) ,established relationship! ,just some self-indulgent fluffy sick comfort ,chef!caleb ,kind of stern!caleb (he's just worried) ,caleb makes u take medicine ,two suggestive jokes (cause its caleb) ,like one second of angst ,one single use of "gege" ,he carries you to the couch ,he pats your head/gives u a massage ,lulls you to sleep ,one head kiss ,i think thats it note: not proofread! its 5 in the morning when i post this so forgive any mistakes i just needed this out of my system i need him to take care of me so baaad :x enjoy

-

for some reason, you woke early for someone who didn't sleep till the late hours into the morning last night.

what you'd gotten couldn't even be considered proper sleep, more like just a nap, but somehow your body wasn't too keen on slipping back into the grips of slumber that easily.

and somehow, you woke up feeling even worse than you had for the past two days.

even if your sore throat was mostly gone, you heaved out a couple of dry coughs as you wrapped yourself tighter in your blanket, shivering in the cold that surrounded the room (courtesy of your comfort, unable to sleep comfortably otherwise even if it worsened your current condition), and on top of that your head was softly throbbing. not wanting to deal with it, you decided to lay back completely to soothe the pain.

your nose was stuffy and runny at the same time, reaching for some tissues on the bedside table to wipe away at it, not before sneezing a couple of times and sniffling afterwards— it was so sensitive today for some reason.

you let out a deep sigh, soft breaths escaping from your mouth as you couldn't breathe comfortably from your nose.

how did it get worse? sure, you only took medicine once yesterday instead of every couple of hours like you were supposed to, but seriously, it was just a sore throat and a small fever!

you sighed, irritated that you were still sick. weren't you supposed to be the one with a good immune system? you and caleb often argued about it, and if he were here, he would surely use this as a point that his was better.

the yearning for his presence bit into the silence of the room as you laid comfortably on your back, shutting your eyes once again as your shallow breaths evened out.

you thought about getting up, washing your face and then making your way to the kitchen to make yourself some tea, and then something to eat so that you could take your medicine and then proceed to rest- something caleb would already be doing for you the moment he'd realize you were sick.

but he wasn't here right now, and even though you'd seen his moments posts about being out with friends, you had no plan to worry him when this was just a little cold.

you thought about it- you were hungry after all, and you wanted something warm to soothe your throat, but just the idea of going all the way down and doing all of that at the moment in your state was tiring.

but, you had taken care of yourself for the past two days like this. what was another?

you opened your eyes, pulled yourself up with a groan, swung your legs over the edge of the bed to slip on your slippers, slipped on the closest sweater and slowly padded your way to the bathroom, leaning against the wall for balance as your headache and sick haze had you dizzy and unsteady on your feet.

you washed up without much of a hitch, and when you exited the bathroom, you thought you heard a door close.

huh?

you thought it might be your mind playing tricks on you. after all, you were at home by yourself and weren't expecting anyone (even if you yearned for someone, the stray thought of him being here leaving you as soon as it came), and you couldn't think of anyone that would stop by on a random wednesday who also happened to have a key to your place.

you shook your head, pocketing your phone as you padded down the way towards the living room, pausing at the faint sound of the television being on- had you left it on?- before proceeding towards the kitchen.

you froze at the sound of light humming coming from your kitchen, feet subconsciously carrying your slightly swaying body closer at the pleasant smell of food wafting towards your nose, completely disregarding a certain bag laying at the end of the empty sofa.

your footsteps must've been heavier than you thought because before you could fully enter the kitchen, the person in question turned around, staring straight at you, spatula in his hand and smile stretching across his face.

"morning, sleepyhead."

you tilted your head.

"caleb?" you whispered.

"surprised?"

you took a few steps closer, heart pounding with excitement but managing to keep your distance due to your illness.

"what are you-"

"hey."

his playful smile quickly morphs into a look of concern as he studies your face, noticing your shallow breaths, quiet voice and slightly-swaying body.

"pipsqueak, are you sick?"

you jolt, looking off to the side.

"not really, its just—"

you startle at his free hand brushing your bangs from your head and resting on your forehead.

"hey! i don't have a fever, i'm fine—"

"your voice is mostly gone," he deadpans.

"that's—"

"how long have you been sick??" his look is full of concern, voice laced with worry.

"just the past two days.."

"two days? and you didn't think to tell me?"

"it was just a sore throat at first!"

"and you're telling me this is still just that?"

before you can answer you're interrupted, bringing up your sleeved arm up to cover the lower half of your face to sneeze twice into it before sniffling.

you put your sleeved arm down and sigh.

"bless you," he says, taking a once over if your state before placing a hand on your lower back.

"here, i made you breakfast, just- sit down, i'll get you everything."

"that's okay, i wanted to—"

"i have water ready for tea if that's what you're after, just sit down, i'll bring it to you."

he says it in a way that almost feels like he's scolding you, and you can't help but to obey and trudge over to the closest seat at the dining table, secretly grateful since your head was hurting more now.

you momentarily rest your head on the cool surface, missing the frown that adorns caleb's face at seeing you in such a weakened state.

he knew how prideful you were when it came to your wellbeing, and he also knew how, for as little as it happened, sick you got when you did succumb to illness.

luckily, from a surface level it didn't look too bad, and the duration wasn't anywhere near severe-level yet. he was sure it was something plenty of rest and medicine would help with.

which is when he vowed, while filling your plate and pouring the steaming water into your favorite mug with a green tea bag resting inside, that he would be the one to nurse you back to health himself.

just like he used to.

-

"that's way too many, caleb!"

"i'm not letting you leave until you take em' all."

"is this really necessary??"

"lingering sore throat, mild fever, headache, stuffy and runny nose, sneezing, dry cough. did i miss anything?"

"no.."

"then yes, this is all necessary. it's not even that much!"

"caleb, there's five different pills sitting in front of me. i am not swallowing all of that!"

"haven't you swallowed more than just this before?"

"caleb!"

you smack his arm and he lets out a hearty laugh— one that you're grateful to see (despite it being at your expense), given he's mostly been overcome with concern— before looking over the medicines again.

"fine, fine, here."

one hand drags an orange pill away towards him.

"how about now?"

you deadpan.

"you're joking, right?" you sniffle.

"that's the best i can do, pipsqueak. now hurry up and take them."

you let out a groan, but reach for the largest pill first.

"do i really—"

"yes," he crosses his arms, leaning back in his seat. "i won't say it again."

you sigh, taking a small sip of tea before slipping the pill between your lips, tipping your head back before taking multiple large gulps of your tea to help its descent.

caleb nods, uncurling his hands and reaching for his utensil to grab some rice.

"good girl, now eat some more and take the rest," he instructs, shoving the rice into his mouth.

you're about to speak but are interrupted by a small sneeze.

"bless you."

you pout at him.

he points to your plate with his chopsticks.

"eat."

"you're lucky your food is so good..." you trail off, shoveling some eggs into your mouth, delight quickly filling you at the flavor of such a simple food item.

the cycle repeats: caleb watching you take sips of your tea and shoveling small bites of food into your mouth before pushing the next pill towards you until they're all gone.

in no time at all, both of your plates are empty. he takes yours from in front of you as you sip on the remainder of your tea, nodding when he asks if you're finished before taking them away to the sink.

you watch as he rolls up his sleeves and makes quick work to wash the plates, utensils, and the kitchenware he'd used, mesmerized by the familiar movements but willing to watch again and again all the same.

once he was finished and the dishes were properly put away, he dries his hands, walking back over to you and feeling your forehead again.

"hmm.. not too warm. how are you feeling right now? are you cold?"

you nod your head, and he gently pats the top of it. you close your eyes in response, the gesture soothing to you.

he grins.

always so cute...

"we should get you back to bed," he murmurs, bending down to your level. "want gege to carry you?"

you crack your eyes open and shake your head, prompting him to tilt his in question.

"i don't want you tripping on the way to your room if you're still dizzy, pipsqueak—"

"i don't wanna go to my room," you cut him off.

"can't i rest near you?" you peer up at him, hope filled in your droopy eyes, and something about that hits him.

you'd been on your own feeling like crap the past two days (now onto the third) and, knowing you, haven't been taking proper care of yourself, prompting the sickness to become what it is now.

no one could guarantee that you'd been eating properly, taking the proper medicine and on time, and most of all, not trying to work while in this state.

his heart feels heavy at the thought, but at his prolonged silence and hard stare, you shift your gaze behind him, embarrassed, and speak up again.

"or— i've already caused you enough trouble, right? this is supposed to be your time off and i've worried you enough... so i'll go back to my room! i wouldn't want to get you si—"

"no, no, no," he quickly cuts you off, swiftly shaking his head before grabbing onto your shoulders.

"pipsqueak, when have i ever denied you of your wishes?"

you sniffle. he did have a point...

"and besides, it's my job to worry about you, ya know?"

"so come on, let me carry you to the couch, yeah? we can put on whatever you like until you fall asleep."

you smile, ever so grateful at how caleb loved to spoil you.

you move to stand up and barely feel your feet hit the ground for half a second before you're easily scooped into caleb's arms, laughing at the sudden gesture before he walks towards the living room with you.

"caleb! i could've—"

"nope, you really couldn't have. i saw the way you trudged through the kitchen earlier, pipsqueak. you looked like you'd fall over if i so much as blew on you."

you look away, small pout adorning your lips, sniffling again.

"s' not my fault... don't even know how i got sick this time."

"maybe cause you missed me so much?

"yeah, maybe."

his heart throbs at your honesty, plopping down on the couch with you before smiling.

"so i guess this means i've got the better immune system, huh?"

"ugh, i knew you'd bring that up..."

he chuckles, letting you adjust in his hold as you use his lap as a pillow.

"whaddya wanna watch, pipsqueak?"

"dunno," you yawn. "just see what's on right now."

you watch as he looks around for the remote, pointing at it being just out of reach on the coffee table. you're about to offer to grab it before you see the strings of his evol grip onto it, bringing it into his hand before he catches it with ease and begins flipping through the channels.

"cheater," you tease quietly, letting out a small laugh at his use of his evol.

"hm?" he catches your words, humming thoughtfully in response, eyes glued to the television.

"you say that, but i remember a certain hunter practically crying under my evol while begging me to—"

"c-caleb!"

he laughs at the way you try to swat at him as you're laying down, settling for a small thwap! on his thigh instead.

"sorry, sorry," he says nonchalantly, loving how easily riled up he could get you at the mention your bedroom activities.

"here," he says, free hand finding its way to your head, softly massaging at your scalp.

"this a good enough apology?" he asks, only earning pleased mewls from you in response.

he smiles fondly in response, pleased at your little noises and the way you nuzzle into him further, resembling a satisfied cat that just filled its belly and was ready for its afternoon nap.

he eventually lands on a channel with a classic favorite movie for the both of you, setting the remote down and using his now-free hand to rub soothing circles into your back.

"you know, wearing my clothes while you're sick is a little selfish, don't you think?"

"s' warm," you mumble, slowly being lulled to sleep by his ministrations.

"and comfy. smells like you..."

even though he teased you, he always felt his heart grow fuller at the sight of you in his clothes, and he felt some amount of pride that it was the first thing you'd reached for even in your current state.

"yeah? i guess i can forgive you," he whispers, evol reaching for the nearest blanket to drape it over your lower half.

in the edges of slumber, you can feel a kiss being planted on the side of your head, but you don't have the energy to reprimand him for doing such a thing and risk himself getting sick.

he sits back up, watching you fondly as he continues his comforting ministrations.

"get well soon, okay? ill be right here when you wake up."

even after he was sure you were sleeping, he continued his gentle caresses, comforted by the fact that you were there with him, and that he could keep a close eye on you.

so long as you were under caleb's care, you would be okay; that was something he would always make sure of.

-

extra:

half-paying attention to the movie on screen, he was already planning a soup to make you when his phone buzzed beside him.

it was a message from a friend of his.

wanna grab a bite later? my treat! some others will be joining too.

grateful for the offer, he messaged back quickly.

can't, playing nurse for my cute girlfriend tonight~

aw, next time, then!

he placed his phone back down, looking back at you and brushing stray hair out of your face as he thought back to your words.

"can't i rest near you?"

you'd looked so helpless, almost like you were expecting him to refuse you and make you rest by yourself, but eyes holding a lingering hope anyway as they peered into his soul.

his heart is full, his eyes are full of mirth, lips curling lovingly.

silly girl...

there's nowhere he'd rather be than here, right beside you—

whether you were ill or perfectly healthy.

always.

and he would make sure you never felt the burden of illness by yourself so long as he could help it.

-

a/n: i'm sick and couldn't help but imagine the l&ds men taking care of me ,and namely imagined caleb nursing me back to health so here we are. caleb come home!

[shouyuus]

hello rain!!! no pressure but i was wondering if you happen to have any thoughts about caleb being younger than us? <3

FUCK IT. we bAWL -- 18+, mdni, slight age gap, rough-ish sex pls note that in chinese gege/jiejie/didi/meimei are often also used in romantic connotations and do not denote incest!

younger!caleb who gets huffy whenever you call him "kid" or "kiddo", and even after you see him again, even after he's become colonel, the fact that you still see him as little boy from your past irks him. because how is it after all these years, after everything he's done to climb the ranks and prove himself to you, that you still see him as... the same little kid that used to follow you around like a lost puppy?

younger!caleb who's not afraid to get whiney, to call you jie jie... and drag it out, because he knows that you've never been able to deny him. and sure, he's got like a solid foot on you now, but he can't help the tug in his chest or behind his navel whenever you smile up at him, reach up to pat his cheek and tell him that he's doing a good job. he wants to nuzzle into your palm like he used to, fish for more praise, like he used to.

younger!caleb who has zero compunction with cornering you up against the wall, pinning your hands to the sides of your head, bearing down over you, and when you ask "c-caleb -- what're you doing?" whispering "c'mon, jiejie, you're a smart girl.. you tell me what i'm doing... can't you tell? after all this time? how much i've wanted you?"

younger!caleb who still whimpers when he kisses you for the first time, because god, he's dreamt about it for so long, imagined it so many different ways. he's pictured it in a million different scenarios, but the real thing trumps all of that, outdoes it by miles and miles and miles. he thinks he can kiss you forever, wouldn't mind never taking a single breath again if it meant being able to kiss you like this.

younger!caleb who teases you, when you're finally together, pulls you into his lap and asks "jiejie... don't be shy -- tell me, have you thought about this too?"

younger!caleb who coaxes you into his bed, so gentle with you till he's got you pinned, right where he's always wanted you (and he has always wanted you) -- and then, you see the switch flip, the darkness flicker across his eyes as his grip tightens, and suddenly, all your limbs feel just a bit heavier than before, your breath coming in short, abortive gasps. you keen against the pressure of his thigh slotted between yours, and he watches you with hooded eyes.

"gods... you're so beautiful like this... even better than i imagined..."

somewhere in the haze of want and half-caught memories, you try to push back against him. he only grins, a sadistic slash of his lips, an expression you barely recognize.

younger!caleb who is just a bit rougher than he'd like to be, but he can't really control himself, not when he's dreamed about it for so long -- his fingers digging into your hips, your body rocking with every single one of his thrusts. and you're perfect, so fucking wet and tight for him, the way you whine over his cock as he'd bullied it into you the first time, the way you bit your lips, your gaze almost reproachful as he rubs a thumb along your cheek the way you used to with him, wiping away a smudge of dirt, soothing some other unseen hurt.

"fuck -- jiejie -- you feel so good --"

"c-caleb -- mm -- n-not so hard --"

"ah... sorry, am i hurting you? i -- i didn't mean to but..." he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, rocking his hips into yours, tugging your thighs to hike them higher around his waist, "c-can't really help myself -- not when you're sucking me in like you want more --"

younger!caleb who wipes you down after with a hot towel, is so attentive, and just a tad bashful, clearing his throat as he helps you tug your panties back on.

"i... i got a little carried away -- i didn't actually hurt you... did i?"

you rub at your wrists, peering up at him before letting out a soft laugh.

"no, you didn't but... then again, you were always misjudging your strength, even when we were kids."

he chuckles, dropping onto the bed next to you, knocking his shoulder against yours.

"yeah... there was that one time we were play-fighting and i shoved you way too hard --"

"-- and that time you were trying to push me on the swings and ended up almost launching me into space --"

caleb groans, dropping his face into his hands.

"i thought granny was gonna murder me -- thank god you only sprained your wrist."

you laugh, nodding, lost to the tide of memories rushing in. you cast him a sidelong glance.

"caleb?"

"hm?"

"have you... i mean -- all these years... are you still..." you trail off, uncertain of how to ask him the thing you really want to know.

younger!caleb who knows implicitly what you want to ask, who smiles, leaning in to cup your cheek and press his forehead to yours.

"am i still the caleb you knew from all those years ago?" he asks, his voice low. you suck in a breath, holding it still in your chest as he sighs.

"no... i'm not. but..." he pulls back ever so slightly, his eyes a star-shattered sea, "if that's what it takes to make you stay with me this time then... i'll be whatever you want me to be."

you hiccup, watching as his expression changes. a flutter of something settles in the base of your stomach -- be it fear or trepidation or just the gnawing feeling of uncertainty.

you shake your head, pushing the feeling aside.

"i just want you to be... you, caleb. that's all i've ever wanted from you."

he's quiet for a long moment. and then --

"only if you promise... you won't love me any less."

the flutter in your stomach builds into something a bit more ominous -- bigger and darker and all-consuming. there's a hollowness in his eyes that you think has always been there, but you've just been too naive to recognize.

greed, or maybe hunger.

you don't know how to answer him.

you just tug him down, and kiss him instead.

[caxasy]

— attention ; you stress caleb tf out because youre too sexy and people love you, sorry caleb

caleb realizes quickly he doesn't like when people pay attention to you. no, he actually hates it. detests it.

the two of you were in college now, far away from the small town you grew up in. far from the quietness that used to be your everyday. now, you’re in a bustling city with frenzied crowds and a rush hour foot traffic beyond comprehension.

at first, caleb tried chalking it up to that first week of school energy, people want to meet new people and expand their social circles while everyone is still new to this. but then, he noticed that as the weeks ebbed on, the people lingering around you weren’t going away.

another thing he found out was that he hates when you get attention from anyone, no matter the gender. caleb thought that he wouldn’t be the type to care if a girl was hitting on you, but then it dawned on him that you have had crushes on girls before. which means, you very much could have a crush on a girl now. as for men, well, he already hated when they got anywhere near you. he likes being the only important man in your life, so he already knew that he would have to dedicate time in fending away any men from you. for his own mental well-being.

but to take into account women too?

he could pull his hair out in frustration.

one of the first times caleb considered being rude to a woman was when it was a quiet day in your dorm room. there was a knock on the your guys’ door, making the both of you perk up.

“not it,” you say first, grinning wildly as if you had just won the lottery. caleb chuckles to himself at your behavior, but pretends to be so burdened with the task of opening the door. he drags his feet, earning a laugh from you which makes him smile in accomplishment. he made you laugh.

that smile is wiped away when he does open the door and he sees a girl standing there, an expecting look on her face. and just as his smile is washed away, the excited look on her face is too. he clenches his jaw as his mind races.

why is she here, though? judging from her reaction, she wasn’t looking for him. was she at the wrong door? or was she here to see you? his eye almost twitches at the suggestion of that.

“sorry, uhm, is [name] here? i was told this was his dorm room…” her voice trails off as she tries peering past caleb’s broad shoulder, neck trying to extend past him.

“yeah, this is his dorm room. i’m his roomate, caleb, what can i do for you?”

“well, is he here? i have to return something to him,” she says, still trying to peak past him. but he just maneuvers so that he’s leaning against the door frame and blocking her with a smile.

“oh, i can hand it right over to him,” his smile is forced, but polite. she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and looks as if she’s working up the courage to stand up against him. “well?”

“i-i’d rather give it to him myself! if he isn’t here, i’ll just try again another da-“

“miki? is that you?” caleb resists the urge to strangle you for your keen hearing. he almost knocks his forehead against the doorframe in agitation.

“[name]! you’re here!” her face brightens instantly and her tone is higher pitched as she becomes giddy in seeing you. she looks as if she was about to step in the room if not for caleb’s frame blocking her. but you step forward anyway, running a hand through your hair as you smile at her.

“is that the-“

“yeah, it is! it was a really good read, thanks for recommending it to me,” she hastily says, pushing her hands forward to show a small paperback book to you. caleb almost rolls his eyes at the entire interaction. if it were socially acceptable to, he would’ve slammed the door in this girl’s face by now.

“perfect, i’m glad you liked it,” you take the book from her, fingers brushing against hers. and caleb once again has to resist the urge in pushing her away from you and taking your hand in his.

“i left, uhm, annotations in there. sorry, i know you said you wouldn’t mind it, but i still feel bad.”

“don’t be,” you wave her off, a carefree smile on your face, “i think it’ll be fun to see your annotations whenever i get the chance to reread,”

caleb looks in between you two and rushes to speak when he sees her open her mouth, “thanks for dropping by, we were quite busy so if you’ll excuse us,” and before waiting for her response, the door is shut in her face.

“hey, we totally were not busy, what was that about?” but caleb’s already grabbing the book from your hand, tossing it onto his desk, and dragging you to rest on top of his bed. he pushes you onto the mattress before quickly joining your side, sighing in content at the position you two were now in.

(one he forced you in, but you digress)

“caleb? hello?”

“sh, it’s time for our nap,”

“are we babies? caleb, it’s 4 in the afternoon,”

“you’re not tired? you were just complaining earlier about being so tired,” caleb’s hands trail the hem of your shirt before reaching beneath the fabric and resting his palm flat against your stomach, “let’s just relax and nap, hm?”

he likes you like this more. focused only on him and vice versa. just you two in his world. just your skin against his. he runs his hand up and down your tummy, smiling into your skin when he notices that his soothing methods are working and you’re beginning to fall asleep.

when caleb notices how girls come up to you to possibly hit on you, his expression hardens and he is now so laser focused in finding a secluded area away from all of your admirers. he feels like this is a full-time job! he can’t catch a break and just enjoy the time between you two in public. the only safe space was when you two were alone in your shared dorm room.

you two weren’t even safe in your dorm room too, sometimes! other people would come knocking on your door, speaking of favors you had promised them or just checking in on you and asking if you wanted to hang out — seriously? who even does that nowadays? it’s childish!

and since caleb was so, so mature, he’d always lie to them and say you weren’t there, knowing damn well you were currently wrapped like a burrito in his sheets on his bed.

the first time the two of you had to go take a shower in the communal bathroom, caleb almost committed an entire massacre against everyone else there. he made a mental note to put in a request for next semester for you two to have your own suite, including a bathroom instead of sharing one.

the two of you were carrying all the essentials to take a shower, caleb rambling on about his current course work, complaining about how much work it was and how he barely had any free time anymore. both of which were half-truths. the work was very much manageable and wasn’t the hardest thing in the world. he still had free time, all of which he reserved for you and only you.

the only reason why he was so whiny about it now was so he could hear you coo and pamper him. your sweet words of, “you need to take more breaks” and “how about we go out when you’re free next time, so you can relax,” do more than bring a smile onto his face. they fulfill that innate desire for you to pay special, close attention to him.

he was drinking up all your praise and comfort that he barely recognized that you two were at the bathrooms now. when you pushed the door open for you two, caleb’s smile dropped almost comically fast when he saw that you two weren’t alone. well, obviously, you wouldn’t be — this is the one bathroom for men on the entire floor. of course there would be people. but caleb was now hyperaware that you were wearing nothing but a tank top, arms on display with the fabric hugging tight across your stomach.

he gulped, fighting back a groan as he hurried you two inside. he made sure your shower stall was right next to his before he got into his own and this was the most panicked he’d been in his entire life. what do you mean other people may see you? see you bare? he hoped and prayed that nothing unfortunate such as that may happen, angrily scrubbing at his hair and body at the mere idea of it.

you were in the stall right next to him, naked. and that alone would make him feel giddy, warm, definitely excited, but he couldn’t even linger on those feelings because his mind was too preoccupied with the possibility somebody else sees you like that.

he kept an open ear for when your water turned off, hurriedly finishing his business as thoroughly as possible before also shutting his water off. he stepped out, barely giving himself time to dry himself on his towel, and he looked around for you.

and when his eyes zeroed in on you, he actually had to bite his lip to stop the guttural sound coming out of his mouth. you were standing there, hair still damp and with water droplets cascading down your face and torso. the torso that was bare for all to see and on display for anyone with eyes to oggle at, caleb included.

you were brushing your teeth, leaning against the sink with your forearm as you scrolled through your phone to occupy your time. since you were not paying that much attention to those around you, you didn’t really feel their eyes on you. and they’ve been on you since you stepped out of the showers.

but caleb saw them. he saw the other duo that were on the opposite side of the bathroom, whispering to each other as they looked at your figure. the one guy that just walked in, eyes widened slightly as you were the first thing he saw.

caleb cursed them in his head as he walked over to you. he loudly set his shower caddy onto the sink next to you, snapping everyone around you out of their daze staring.

you turned off your phone and looked at him, giving him a toothpaste ridden smile, “hewwo,”

he softens almost instantly, “hi,”

he pulls out his toothbrush and toothpaste. thankfully, it’s easy to hide his frown as he’s brushing his teeth. he’sd glaring at the towel around your waist, eyes narrowing as he sees it gradually going lower and lower due to you not adjusting it in a long time.

he internally sighs in relief when you adjust it before starting your skincare routine. he can so clearly see your muscles flexing and relaxing as you go through the motions of it, feeling a bubbling sense of anger as he realizes that this sight isn’t just for his eyes. as it used to be.

caleb is beginning to think he just hates this entire university experience. why does he have to share you so often?

from then on, he purposefully tries planning that whenever you two take your showers, it’ll be during the least busy hours. hope you enjoy taking either freakishly early or late showers.

— moral of the story is caleb hates sharing you, with anybody, and gets annoyed whenever someone comes in to take your attention away from him.

[greyjoy-pride]

A fun thought that Caleb’s Keen Mind could be the result of being under the Feeblemind spell for a decade… he had no grasp on the world for 11 years, so after he got out of Vergesson it becomes a compulsion to keep the time with ticks in his head, and constantly rerun the background processing to know where he is in relation to everything else in the world, and recite important information in his mind so he won’t forget again

[twins-write]

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[tsuyalovebot]

certified mind blower.

explicit sexual content. mdni, ageless blogs dni.

xia yi zhou / caleb x reader. (repost)

cw. drabble (~1k wc, written in one sitting. ignore any typos). afab reader. established relationship. oral sex (reader receiving). face sitting. caleb spanks you once. improper use of evol. mentions of unprotected sex & creampie. spitting (he pushes his spit into you. deadass). use of pipsqueak. caleb typical warnings (he's a filthy freak, to no one's surprise). 

mimi's missive: your honor, i have no defense for this one. anyway, it's me again; happy belated valentines. take this while i work on my full-length caleb piece; "this" being total filth. also i reposted this because i noticed way too many errors the first time i posted it. enjoy.

you're watching caleb wash the dishes when you say, "i want to sit on your face tonight."

or, one night, just before bedtime, you tell caleb that you want to try face sitting. 

he was fidgeting the entire time, no matter how calm and gentle he tried to appear while the two of you went over the details. you had no idea if he was nervous because he might end up not liking it, or because he might like it too much. 

(little did you know, he was trying his reaaal hardest to not bust a nut the second you proposed it. would caleb ever admit it? no. absolutely not. he's gotta appear cool in front of you, after all. maybe he would own up to it though, after it's all over.) 

but later that night, while he's tonguing you with that lithe, pink muscle in such a delicious, mind-boggling manner, something is piqued and it isn't your interest. your eyebrows raise with every calculated lick over the crevices, the folds, smooth with spit.

he's kind of a natural at this.

the fingers in his hair now belong to you just as much as the rest of him. "you're weirdly good at this. are you sure you've never tried this with anyone else?" 

it wasn't intended to come off insecure; you tried to deliver it as nonchalant as possible whilst your fingers were busy in his hair. 

he knows better though. caleb peers up at you with those stupidly beady eyes—now, however, they were droopy with a deeply rooted contentment. you feel him smile, loopy, drunk on your flavor. you wonder if he'd willingly let himself be suffocated under your body weight like this.

"hmm?" 

the vibrations would make any person's toes curl, traitorous thighs flexing around his head. the idiot moans in unabashed approval, low and shameless as he keeps his eyes on you. 

one large palm of his takes a greedily handful of your ass, and smacks. hot air is breathed out over your skin, his tongue flat against the tender flesh, drinking up the flood of arousal that soaked your labia. 

"questionin' my loyalty after all these years? when i've got my mouth full of you? i'm wounded," he dryly replies. despite his words, he doesn't sound mad at all. more pleased, if anything, undoubtedly by the way it fed his ego. 

you huff, bottom lip jutting out.  "well, you seem plenty experienced—"

"eh, not really."

caleb's adjusting the position with a tight, guiding grip so you weren't fully seated down on him. blowing onto the perky, swollen hood at the apex of your core. enamored, he was drinking in every groove and fold of your bare sex. embarrassment creeps up your spine with a vengeance so violent, you nearly bolt. 

he muses quietly, "dreams will never compare to the real thing." 

"what're you—"

"ah-ah-ah. talk later. also, weirdly good? what's your basis for comparison, huh?"

caleb pulls you back down, groaning hotly as the taste floods his palate. the ravenous glitter in those smoldering lilac eyes reduce him into something primal, wanting to satiate his most base needs. and that was only possible through you. 

and you're keening above him, hands frantically holding onto the headboard in a series of breathless gasps. it's cute; it makes him internally cheese at his effect on you. unfortunately, you don't seem to share the same sentiment, because you're promptly trying to get off of his head as your stomach tenses.

"caleb," you moan, and some branch of his sanity snaps clean off. 

it shatters when you absentmindedly grind your hips, fucking dragging the folds of your cunt up his chin, lips, nudging his nose, leaving a trail of your slick and his spit on his face. 

a plea from you, "wait, it's too direct—"

shrapnels of iridescent midnight and scarlet spark around your hips, fireworks in the palm of your hands. it takes a moment to register, but he devours the transformation of your expression nonetheless. the dazed look, the confusion, the realization. 

and caleb's the picture boy of arrogance as he activates his evol, forcing you to stay in position. the indignation that sparks in your body is only minimized by the thick, sweet moisture that drips onto his chin, one he's eager to lap up, the ambrosia honeyed in the back of his throat.

the world was truly cruel for ever trying to separate the both of you.

"since when did i say you could move? you can't just get up and leave me here, pipsqueak. surely, you aren't cruel enough to deny me some bonding with you." 

the tip of his tongue dips into the soft hole of your sex, curling experimentally. air humming around your bodies, one arm curled over your thigh, the other hand snaking around to smooth over your chest as he spells his name into your cunt. 

c-a-l-e-b. 

then in morse code, dragged out lines and probes. 

then his last name. 

and m-i-n-e.

"if signing papers at work was as easy as this, i'd have more allies than i have enemies." he hums in satisfaction, utterly lovesick as he drags his sticky lips up to suck on your clitoris, savoring the way your muscles tense and quiver in anticipation of your climbing orgasm. he can't wait to taste that.

"you're just as mouthy down here as you are up there, y'know," he comments, eyelids crinkling into crescent moons. as if he didn't say something so profoundly lewd that it'd make any sex enthusiast blush. 

"you must really like talking to me more than you let on." 

he plants a smooch over your drooling entrance, affectionate, as if it'd silence the little squelching noises it made with every slow contraction of your inner muscles. 

contemplation solidifies into surety on his handsome face, his hungry eyes turning into something more tangy, more mischievous. the crackles of his evol warp around you. 

you get the sudden, immense feeling that you're in for it. that you're in danger.

he presses his mouth up to your core, stare intent and full of a love so potent you think you're gonna be sick. "do you think if i come inside, it'll swallow just like you do?"

the air leaves your lungs. you wheeze, "caleb—"

"you'd let me test it, right?" he asks, voice softened by the need edging behind it. "you're always so good. you'd let me, wouldn't you?"

before you could retort on how he was asking so many questions, you're suddenly being flipped. the world spins, and you mistakenly take it as the end of the entire damn universe, squeezing your eyes shut as wind lashes at your skin and your back hits the cushion. 

when you open them, you're kind of bent. upper body splayed on the bedspread, your lower body awkwardly held up by caleb's arms — thighs still snug on either side of his head. now, he's urgently tucking pillows underneath your hips, angling you up, smearing another kiss onto your cunt. everything done with such fluidity, not an ounce of struggle in his taut, muscular form. 

then he spits, and you flinch. before you could even ask what the hell he was doing, he buries his face into you, tongue shamelessly pushing and pulsing against your spasming pussy — letting his spittle pool in there like a filthy brand. heat boils in your lower belly, burning your skin and you're clenching before you could think it through.

"fuck," he whispers. the rare curse slipping like a prayer from his swollen lips, awe heavy in his inflection. "you really drank it up." 

was the bedroom always this hot?

caleb, once so composed and the epitome of restraint, appeared voracious from this position. and the sight of your cunt squeezing around air, pulling the webbed mixture of his saliva and your arousal into the sinful cradle of your walls. 

gravity is the coil of a snake around your body, and you're the very fruit he's craved. caleb hums, thoughtful and pleased, just before diving back in, "let's find out."

[vesearlee]

inclusive of Sylus, Zayne, Rafayel, Caleb, Xavier and multiple pairings with single ship, poly, and quad.

──── 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑺

──── 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧

➺ Zayne x F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐅 The atmosphere was light, tinged with the beauty of waking well rested from an afternoon nap — until someone disturbed the peace.

──── 𝐒𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐤

➺ Zayne x F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐅 To treat an ailment, you first had to identify a cause and enact treatment to better the patient’s physical or mental state. After years and years of knowing him, it was lucky you were the best doc-tor around to care for him.

──── 𝐓𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐲𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐚

➺ Zayne x Scrub Nurse!F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐅 + 𝐒 To see the well-versed, experienced cardiac surgeon in such a state of distress was a sight you were not keen to experience again, and even at the cost of your shared secret, you would do anything to soothe him and bring him down from the adrenaline high.

──── 𝐅𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐀𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭

➺ Zayne x F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐅 It was the duty of an assistant to assist in all matters their employer may need — paperwork, errands, fetching things from near and far, but this mischievous feline took the role and ran with it, and you had no choice but to rewrite the definition of demanding when she had her way with the busy doctor. 

──── 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞

➺  Dawnbreaker!Zayne x F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐀 + 𝐅

There were only whispered words of his presence as Zayne slept — you never knew more than he would share. An enigmatic presence that loomed in the hours of the dark that haunted Zayne’s thoughts through the day; the very reason he worked himself to the bone to mend the hearts of the people that were dealt a bad hand. 

But even Gods weren’t immune to the darker side of their minds. And it just so happened that you could confront this perceived nightmare on your own.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝑫𝑹𝑨𝑩𝑩𝑳𝑬𝑺

──── 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐖𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

➺ Zayne x F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐅 Time was something precious. It could never be stopped in the cycle it remained loyal to, just as your devotion to him could be questioned — only evident by the small bloom that caught the sun’s rays, steadfast and unmelting in the warmth of it. 

──── 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐞

➺ Cat Butler!Zayne x F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐀 + 𝐈 + 𝐅

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺

──── 𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒆𝒂

➺ Tattoo Artist!Rafayel x F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐀 + 𝐅 Like a siren’s song, the ocean’s rhythmic dance beckoned treasures to its shores — from endless delicate seashells painted in nature’s finest hues, lustrous pearls birthed from ancient depths, and the whispered secrets of souls carried on salt-kissed winds. 

Within the sanctuary of Rafayel’s arms, where time always ebbed and flowed like the tides themselves, resistance was futile against the tranquil spell that bound you both. The sea, ever watchful and eternal in her majesty, held not only the whispers of your heart but cradled his deepest mysteries in her embrace.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑺

──── 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐨

➺ Rafayel x F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐀 + 𝐅 Each stroke of his brush painted the ocean with such precision it took your breath away, only the tides had more than one surprise in store for you.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝑫𝑹𝑨𝑩𝑩𝑳𝑬𝑺

──── 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐫

➺ Cat Butler!Rafayel x F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐀 + 𝐈 + 𝐅

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑨𝑷𝑺

── 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑺

──── 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

➺ Caleb x F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐅 Normally, when Caleb had to make it up to you, he had methods he had perfected; made tried and true over the span of time that stretched from childhood to adulthood. Only, this time, an accomplice was thrown into the mix to sweeten the deal, and it swayed you in his favour faster than you could comprehend the sudden, unique side kick.

──── 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲

➺ Caleb x F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐀 + 𝐅 While Caleb had fought and won countless battles, the one he wanted to fight the hardest against wasn’t his own — it was yours, and all he could do was stand by your side.

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑺

──── 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞

➺ Cat Butler!Sylus x F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐀 + 𝐈 + 𝐅

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝑪𝑨𝑷𝑺

── 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧!𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝑫𝑹𝑨𝑩𝑩𝑳𝑬𝑺

──── 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐬𝐲

➺ Cat Butler!Xavier x F!Reader⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐀 + 𝐈 + 𝐅

COMING SOON

──── 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭

➺ Cat Butler!Rafayel x F!Reader ➺ Cat Butler!Zayne x F!Reader ➺ Cat Butler!Sylus x F!Reader ➺ Cat Butler!Xavier x F!Reader ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄ 𝐀 + 𝐈 + 𝐅 After a night that took an eternity to pass, you woke up feeling worse the wear and wishing for sleep to take you under once more. Only, these few felines had other ideas; the love and care they provided was always second to none.