calebsdog

[calebsdog]

"Honey? Caleb is on his way. Just try and relax."

"Mmn?" Through half-lidded eyes you watch Tara tuck your phone into the safety of your purse. Did you give it to her earlier? You don't recall giving her the password either.

Though, your memory wasn't the most trustworthy at the moment. When you close your eyes, the rest of the world fades into nothingness around you. The party was an assault to the senses. The room reeks of sweat and booze, the music pounds in your ears, and everything was far too bright.

When Tara had invited you for a night out you assumed the two of you would swing by a bar, grab a few drinks, order some food, and catch a back home. Instead, she took you to a 'friend of a friends' house. Stepping through the front door made you think you had time traveled back to your college days.

How had a grown adult managed to turn their abode into a frat house? But also- why would anyone ever want that?

The party continues. Your body slumping over in your seat, neck crooked at an odd angle, wasn't enough to catch the concern of partygoers. The music thump, thump, thumps the walls of the hideous house. The glittering disco sloppily attached to the ceiling flashes nauseating colors, illuminating the cold sweat beading on your brow.

"Tara?" Blindly, you reach out for your best friend. You couldn't be sure she was still close to you. Your eyes have been closed since you saw her return your phone into your bag. All you know is that you were tired of astral projecting. You need to hold onto someone before you float away for good.

"I think someone spiked my drink." Blessedly, Tara takes hold of your fumbling hand. Her soft skin cools your overheated body. God, even if Tara is the one who brought you to this shitty party in the first place, she was still a perfect angel in your hazy eyes. You'd be all alone if she wasn't here watching over you.

"I don't think so baby. I was with you all night. You feel sick because you threw back three shots."

Maybe you let a little too loose tonight. In your defense, there was alcohol at every corner in this place. You weren't even able to take a bathroom break without someone stuttering drunk shoving an old, warm beer bottle into your hands.

Places like these were not your scene.

"Caleb's coming? When's he gonna be here?"

Forget whatever you were just talking about. Tara's words from earlier had suddenly clicks in your mind. She called Caleb to come pick you up. That must be why you gave her your phone.

Right now, what you want more than anything is to be at Caleb's side. With the music making your head pound, sweaty bodies brushing past you, and the puke bubbling in your empty, acid filled stomach, you want your safe space to come save you from this madness.

Ignoring the fact Caleb might be a little upset with you for not letting him know you were going out drinking tonight. It hadn't seemed important earlier when you thought you were going to a regular bar. Your mistake was when you neglected to give your location. Or pick up your phone the entire time you've been out.

Whatever. You'll accept the consequences of a disappointed Caleb. As long as he brings you back home to an actual bed.

He won't leave you alone when he's upset. He would never abandon you. Somewhere deep in your soul you know it to be true.

"You never told me he lives in Skyhaven. I was ready to find someone else in your contacts to come. But he seemed pretty insistent about being the one to pick you up. He said it would be thirty minutes tops."

Tara's mouth twists into a thoughtful frown.

"It's pretty late. There aren't going to be many trains running at this time. How is he sure he'll be here that fast?"

"He's Caleb. Caleb always finds a way." Or rather, Caleb owns a personal aircraft he can use as he pleases. But you don't feel like opening up that can of worms to Tara right now.

The playlist shuffles to another song. The bass thrumming through the radio shakes you down to your skeleton. Idly, you wonder how many times the owner of this house has received noise complaints from his neighbors.

Whoever was behind this stupid party is incredibly lucky they don't live anywhere near you. You put up with enough in your day to day life. One thing you would not tolerate is your neighbors blasting music at two in the morning.

Leaning your heavy head against Tara's shoulder, you try to let the world go quiet around you.

"Hey. Wake up."

Ah, there he is. The person you've been waiting for. The warmth of his large hand seeps through the strap of your dress. He's gentle as he shakes you awake.

It's a fight to peel your heavy eyes open, trying to regain control of your blurry vision. The world has been spinning around you for hours now. You kept your eyes closed, blocking out the dizziness to the best of your ability. But now, you have something you really want to look at.

"Hm. My hero."

The tension in Caleb's face is highlighted by the glittery lights strobing on the ceiling. Tara's call must have really worried him. It hadn't even taken him half an hour to fly all the way from Skyhaven to this strange, rundown property that neither of you will be setting foot on again.

It was probably just the alcohol. But the lighting makes it look like there's a halo floating over Caleb's head. Weirdly, you don't question it. It feels fitting. Like it's always been there, hidden from view.

Your drunken mind accepts Caleb's angelic appearance. Just as quickly as you accept it you're already moving on. Your body didn't have the energy to keep up with all these divulging trains of thoughts.

The worry creasing Caleb's face stutters. His purple eyes widen when his ears pick up on that single, precious word.

Hero.

"Silly girl."

He shouldn't take you seriously right now, he reminds himself. Your friend told him over the phone just how much you've had to drink tonight. You were bound to say pointless, silly things you didn't truly mean in such a state.

Caleb could replay that short moment over in his mind later when you're safe. This worry that's been building in his chest since he picked up the phone will only go away once he sees you tucked into bed, snuggled under the blanket like a sleepy kitten after drinking too much milk.

He'll think of how relieved you appeared when your eyes landed on him. How happy you looked just because he showed up. How that voice he loves so much called him your hero.

Some other time. Right now, all Caleb wants to have you home with him. These people were all too careless around you. He has to get you away from them.

Your slumped position doesn't cause him inconvenience. The booze had already convinced you that you've suddenly become weightless. You feel light as a feather as your large boyfriend sweeps you into his loving arms.

"I'll get her home safely. Thank you for calling me. And for looking after her."

Only half paying attention, Caleb bids Tara farewell with a grateful nod. It's unfair how easy it is for him to be charming. Everyone in your life is drawn like a moth to a flame with your Caleb. Yes, you should be grateful that your friends get along so well with your boyfriend.

Telling yourself that doesn't make it easier.

"Bye Tara..." Not wanting to leave without saying goodbye, no matter how sleepy you are, you lift your hand to give Tara a weak wave.

"Bye! Make sure to take it easy tomorrow, okay?"

"Mhm. I will." As if Caleb would let you do anything but have an easy day. You're a little afraid he might put you on a twenty-four hour lockdown for being so reckless.

Keeping you safe in his arms, Caleb starts to weave through the dancing, mindless drunkards stumbling all around the room. With your head leaning against his chest you're able to catch strong whiffs of Caleb's familiar cologne. The cologne manages to protect your nostrils from the pungent, musty stench you've been suffering for hours.

"Oh, life is worth living again."

The comforting embrace of freedom comes in the form of a cool night breeze, tickling along your flushed cheeks. Caleb pushes the front door open with his foot, releasing you from that hell disguised as a fun time. Even if it isn't enough to sober you, it's certainly an improvement in environment.

"I figured you'd be warm. I kept it cool in my aircraft on my way here. You'll be comfortable."

Caleb carries you a good distance before the two of you arrive at his personal vehicle. The craft was far too large for the humble parking lots of Linkon or the narrow street of the party house. It was best to keep something like that tucked out of the public eye anyway. He's careful as he sets your limp body in the passenger seat. He does the work of buckling you up.

A while ago, you noticed Caleb doesn't have a matching seat belt installed into his own seat. You haven't asked him. There was no point in answering when part of you already knows he built a buckle on the passenger just for you.

"Open your eyes for a sec, pip. I have some water for you." Carefully prying your fingers out of their clenched position, exposing the sticky sweat clinging to your palms, he passes you a cup. One of those fancy cups that can keep your drinks cold for hours.

"Drink up. We're not going home until you've had at least half the cup. I also have refills if you get thirsty on the way home."

"You filled the cup to the brim. Can't I just drink a third of it then we go?"

"Nope."

"You're the worst."

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you do your best to take slow, easy sips. Water probably won't make you anymore nauseous than you currently are. But it never hurts to be careful.

"Yup. Turns out I'm not a hero at all. I'm an evil monster who makes sure this little flower stays hydrated."

Caleb's hand reaches out, looming ominously over your head. For a second you're convinced he's about to tousle your sweaty hair.

You should start giving him more credit. Instead of worsening the matted tangles already beginning to form on your scalp he brushes away the strands sticking in front of your eyes.

"I drank half."

"Did you?"

Caleb's eyes drift to the cup in your hand. He's not able to see inside of it. But he can hear the water sloshing on the inside when you shake the bottle, proudly showing him that yes, you were actually behaving.

You've had a decent amount, even if it wasn't exactly half.

"Good job." Temporarily satisfied with your easy obedience, Caleb quits crowding your space. Checking to make sure you're properly buckled one last time, he makes his way over to the driver's seat.

The aircraft thrums as it lifts off of the ground. Less than a decade ago Caleb was happy to earn his first car through long hours of work, through blood sweat and tears. He's been the designated driver since that day, letting you tag along in the passenger seat nearly every time.

It was odd how much life can change in such short amounts of time.

Flying like this with Caleb had made you dizzy the first few times. But after so many times sitting in this seat, it feels no different than taking a ride in a car.

The trip home, the home in Skyhaven that was slowly becoming yours, was mercifully quiet for the first few minutes. Caleb must sense that the worst headache of your life is starting to creep up on you. It's starting to tickle around the edges around your skull, warning you of what's to come.

Whether you would survive tomorrow morning's hangover was up in the air.

"What were you doing at a place like that anyways?"

Nevermind. Caleb was an inconsiderate jerk who would scold you hangover or no hangover. This was just the beginning stage of the healthy dose of disappointment heading your way.

"Tara invited me. I thought we were just gonna go to a bar."

"Your friend from work? She brought you there?"

"Don't be mad at Tara, Caleb. I wasn't in any danger. Everyone at the party was just really rowdy. I'm fine."

"And what if you hadn't been?"

Caleb never raises his voice. Never escalates these rare arguments that barely pop up in your relationship. It's only the arguments regarding your safety that ever manage to grow tense.

His voice is level, his posture remains calm. But you see as his worn hands begin to squeeze the life out of the poor wheel.

Caleb rarely gets angry. But Caleb is afraid. All of the time.

"You didn't even text to tell me you were going out tonight. Did you check your phone at all? You should know the kind of people who go to parties like that. If something had happened to you, it could have been hours before I knew anything was wrong. I'm not trying to insult your friend. But I don't trust her to keep you safe like I can."

Caleb has a habit of making you feel like a child. His care for your safety is always so sincere. Sure, he could be controlling, possessive too. And he keeps your best interest in his heart through it all.

"Caleb? I'm really, really sorry."

Caleb has the power to tell when you give him fake crocodile tear apologies and when you give him true, honest atonements. You truly mean this apology. Arguments with Caleb used to drag on for days at a time all because you refused to let go of your pride and just say sorry. Even when most of those times you had been totally in the wrong.

You were both adults now. Your relationship was only just beginning to blossom. You aren't willing to trample over this budding seedling because you couldn't let go of your childish stubbornness.

"That... Was unusually fast. Are you sure you don't have something else you need to tell me?"

"No. I just know that I was wrong. And you deserve an apology. So, I'm sorry Caleb."

Leaning forward, the seat belt tightening slightly around your chest, you try to catch his gaze. He's been staring out of the windshield this whole time. Even though there clearly wasn't any traffic in the open sky.

"Drunk words are sober thoughts, right? Ask me anything. I want to start being honest."

You can nearly see the thoughts running wild through Caleb's head. It never used to be this easy to get you to agree with him. Clearly, your easy apology has caught your boyfriend off guard.

But the offer you've laid willingly at his feet is too enticing to ignore. His white knuckle grip on the steering wheel begins to ease.

"How are you feeling?"

"Really, Caleb? I said you could ask me anything you want. Why is that what you want to know?"

"Because you said you would answer honestly. I want to know."

One of his hands departs from the wheel. It finds its way onto your thigh, as it always does when you're his passenger princess. He's only waited this long to touch you this way tonight because you needed to have this conversation.

"How are you feeling? Tell me, please."

"Honestly? I don't know if I've ever felt worse. I haven't gotten this drunk since college. I want to puke my guts out, dig my own grave, and crawl into the ground for the next hundred years."

"Hmph." Caleb's hand delicately squeezes your thigh through your wrinkled skirt.

"I can't offer you a grave. Can I offer a long night of sleeping together in bed instead?"

"Not quite the same. But I suppose I can settle." Sighing for dramatics, you tilt your tired, heavy body to the side. You don't realize how nearly all of your weight was being supported by Caleb. He was bearing the majority of the burden, as he usually does.

"One more question. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better before we get home?" The atmosphere gets a little less playful when Caleb asks you this. Seeing you like this, drunk out of your mind, worn to the bone, pulls on the heartstrings that only respond to you.

"Hm... There's one thing. Say 'I forgive you, baby.' I'll feel all better again."

What a little trickster Caleb had raised. Your ready apology earlier was almost successful in convincing him that you've matured. Turns out, you were still an annoying little kid at heart.

Spoiled. You've been taking advantage of this weakness of his since you had met. You'll be worming your way out of trouble for a long time yet.

"I forgive you, baby."

[calebsdog]

Zayne girlies can you let me know if there's an order I should read Snow's Embrace and Tower of Secrets? Or if there's not a chronological order would it be more satisfying to read one before the other?

Thank you!! (⁠＾⁠3⁠＾)

[calebsdog]

You were surrounded by people far more fit than you.

Caleb's friends from the DAA all visibly maintain a strict diet. Whether they were reluctant or it was easy for them to accept, as it seemed to be the case with Caleb, they were incredibly disciplined.

Patrick, Blythe, and Caleb barely skim their menus. It doesn't take longer than a minute for them to search through the short salad selection. It felt sinful to even glance at the desserts in your own menu.

"Has everyone decided what they want to order?"

The waitress swings by your table, carrying your drinks on a black platter. All four of the glasses were filled with ice water. Yes, you were planning to order yourself a nice carbonated beverage when you first arrived at the restaurant. But when all three of your companions chose to drink water, you got silently peer pressured.

"Can I have the caesar salad please? No dressing." Patrick is the first to give his order.

"I'll have a garden salad." Caleb was a part of this too? When did the boy you grew up with turn into such a health freak?

"A chef's salad for me, please and thank you." Blythe begins to gather the guy's menus, stacking them up for the waitress. She patiently waits for you to give the waitress the last order.

It would be one thing to be the odd one out and not order a salad. But you just had to be the last order out of all of your friends. Every eye was focused on you now. They would all be watching you, wanting to know what you were about to eat.

You were a hunter in training. Maybe this was the wake-up call you didn't know you needed. If you want to succeed, you'll have to be in the best shape possible, just like them. From now on, you'll stop eating so carelessly. Opening your mouth, you copy Caleb's order to stop thinking about it.

"I'll have the garden-"

"She would like the chicken sandwich, please."

Before the word salad can escape your mouth, Caleb cuts you off. You can feel the weight of the table's attention shift away from you and over to Caleb as he speaks up. He doesn't let it distract him, meeting your eyes only.

"That's what you were eyeing before, right? You want fries or onion rings with it?"

"Caleb..."

"Fries or onion rings, pipsqueak." It wasn't a question anymore. He wasn't giving you the opportunity to order a salad as your side either. Fries or onion rings. One or the other.

"Fries please," you mumble. You've always known Caleb is observant. But how in the world had he managed to see right through you? He knew exactly what you wanted to order without you having to say a word.

Caleb wasn't just observant. You're starting to wonder if he's psychic as well.

"Chicken sandwich and fries." With finality, Caleb slides the menu from your side of the table over to Blythe's.

Scribbling your order into her notepad, the waitress walks away from your table, heading out of sight to give the chefs your orders. Nervous, you peek at Patrick and Blythe through your eyelashes, anticipating their judgment.

And there was judgment. The two students are quirking their brow at Caleb. Like he had just done something unusual but not something unexpected. Caleb doesn't appear bothered by the exasperation coming from his friends.

"You brought your wallet, didn't you? Don't worry about it. Me and you are sharing a bill."

"Caleb, my chicken sandwich was like double the price of your salad. That's not fair at all. I'll pay for my own meal."

"Shush. You came all this way just to pay me a visit. Eat whatever you want. I'll take care of it." Under the table, his foot nudges yours.

"And since when did you feel guilty about forcing me to me pay for you? It feels like yesterday a grumpy little apple would call me a cheapskate if I didn't donate my allowance to buy her candy."

[calebsdog]

Doomscrolling with Caleb is a top tier experience.

Taking a lazy day in, spending some quiet quality time in bed, the two of you lay back to back. Your cold feet intertwine with Caleb's underneath the blanket. Stealing his warmth as any decent girlfriend would.

"What made you laugh this time? Show me."

Whenever Caleb hears you laugh he glances over his shoulder, already smiling in anticipation. Just because you're scrolling on separate phones doesn't mean he isn't interested in whatever captured your attention.

However, even though you're on your own phones, he doesn't let you get away with sending him messages. The sole of his foot nudges your ankle as your username pops up in his notifications.

"I'm not even a foot away from you, lazy bones. Just turn around and show me the video yourself."

Sometimes your quiet quality time is spent cuddled a little closer. Caleb has his phone propped upright on his chest, his fingers wrapped around the back for support. Your head rests on his shoulder just far enough from the screen so Caleb won't scold you for hurting your eyes.

You were essentially playing with Caleb's phone while he sits back to watch. Whenever you get bored of the video playing you'll reach out to scroll to the next. But when you want to let the video play out Caleb never scrolls away out of his own boredom.

Like this you're also allowed to like, reblog, or bookmark any video or picture that has earned your approval. You leave a mark on his account, changing his feed the longer you spend on his phone.

"Because of your influence I'll get to see more of what you find funny, what you think is cute, what makes you grumpy. I'll come across something and think 'she'd like this.' And I'll be the one to show it to you."

[calebsdog]

Would I sound too greedy if I'd want a version of Love and Deepspace JUST for Caleb

I love all of the other love interests but man... I want to see every chapter of Mc and Caleb's life from beginning to end. New lore for Caleb every main story update, every new five and four star card released features Caleb, all the anecdotes and bonds...

It does come off as selfish but I want to see the real depth of their relationship without him having to share screen time (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

[calebsdog]

I should have known when I saw the prompt... HE'D BE THE ONE TO INITIATE THE INJURED SEX

"That one looks worse than it feels," he says, trying to sound nonchalant even as you catch him gritting his teeth.

Why can't he let people worry about him just once :(

"You can just... Use me."

SUCH A PROVIDERRR OHHHH I'll never get over it

You're so good as balancing smut in your works with the deep emotional connection they share in canon. If Infold didn't have to worry about censorship we'd definitely get a banner like this. Thank you for the food Ivy (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

Pain reliever

aka slow, injured sex

Caleb x female reader

Words: 2k

Recommended listening: caleb’s pained grunts in farewell intimacy (lol i’m being cheeky)

Caleb winces as you dab antiseptic on a shallow gash across his ribs. “That one looks worse than it feels,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant even as you catch him gritting his teeth.

You ignore the way he brushes it off, acting like it doesn’t matter that he’s covered in scrapes and bruises and still drenched in sweat from the fight. He always downplays his injuries—and if you try to call him out on it, he just says he learned it from you. It’s aggravating, to say the least.

But even through your annoyance, your hands are steady, practiced at cleaning up various injuries as a Hunter. Your body, on the other hand, hasn’t gotten the memo to chill the fuck out and just focus on taking care of Caleb.

Your thighs keep pressing together, tightening reflexively every time he hisses or groans under your touch. There’s something about the way he looks right now—slumped on the bed in only his criminally tight boxer briefs, flecks of dried blood painting the curve of his abs—that makes heat curl low in your belly.

He looks perfectly wrecked right now.

It’s not like you want him to be in pain. You'd do anything to stop him from getting even the slightest scratch on his flawless skin. But he’s headstrong by nature, and being Colonel means he’s always throwing himself into danger.

Maybe it’s twisted, but you feel a surge of desire every time Caleb is battle-worn like this. Each mark makes him look a bit more dangerous and proves that he’d do anything to keep you from harm—even if it means taking all your hits for you.

It also doesn’t help that he keeps making such sinful sounds. Is he in pain, or is he enjoying this? Who would make these kinds of moans when they’re severely injured?

You start to wonder if he has a masochistic streak. It wouldn’t be a surprise.

His low chuckle breaks your momentary daydream of pulling more of those noises out of him with a very different method. When you drag your gaze away from the sheen of his sweaty muscles and look up at his stupid smug face, he smirks. Even as he’s bloody and beaten up from being cornered by too many Wanderers, he gives you a lopsided, far-too-cocky grin.

“You’re clenching your thighs every time I breathe, pips,” he murmurs with a curious tilt of his head. “You gonna tell me why?”

It doesn’t matter that you scowl and try to play it off. He still raises a brow like he’s daring you to deny it.

“I think,” he says slowly, “someone’s getting a little worked up from patchin’ me up.”

Before you can say anything, he catches your wrist and tugs you forward with a soft grunt, making you straddle him properly. Your other palm braces against the headboard of the bed as you instinctively try not to put too much pressure on him.

He’s so warm beneath you, and his pupils get blown wide as he yanks you even closer, intent on leaving no inch of space between your bodies.

“Wait, you’re injured,” you try to protest.

His grip tightens, refusing to let you pull away. In this newfound position, you can easily feel the growing bulge beneath his underwear, and you can't help but grind down on it just to alleviate some of the ache that was festering between your thighs before.

A groan rumbles in Caleb’s throat as his hands settle on your waist. “I know my limits,” he says softly, smiling up at you like he’d give you anything you desire. “I can handle whatever you throw my way.”

Exhaustion and pain roughen his voice—and the sound of it sends a jolt straight through your core.

“You want me, don’t you?” he asks, fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt and teasing you with feather-light touches that leave goosebumps on your skin.

“Well, yeah…but–”

“No buts,” he interrupts playfully.

There’s a gentle tug of your shirt before he hastily tries to get it over your head, even if the big movement makes him wince in pain. Not even your stern look at his discomfort can stop him from pulling it all the way off and flinging it to the side.

When his eyes lock onto your bare chest, he groans softly at the sight of your pebbled nipples.

“If you want me, then you can have me,” he whispers reverently while running his hands up your sides. “Will it make you feel better if I don’t move? You can just…use me.”

It’s too tempting of an offer, and he knows it. He looks at you like your pleasure is the only thing he cares about. And you’re basically done bandaging all his wounds now. Would it really be so bad to take him up on such a delectable offer?

“You promise you’ll tell me if I hurt you or make you uncomfortable?” you ask, holding out your pinky.

Caleb chuckles but links his larger pinky with yours. “Yeah, yeah. I promise, pip-squeak.”

You stare at him for a second longer, tightening your finger around his in a warning that he better stay true to his word. When he just continues smiling back at you with those cute, innocent puppy eyes, you can’t hold back anymore.

You press your mouth to his carefully, and he kisses you back just as slowly—like he’s savoring the taste of you. The softness of it reminds you of the fight from earlier. One wrong move could have led to you losing him all over again.

The sudden tension creeping up your body is easily clocked by Caleb, so he distracts you with wandering hands. He palms your breast, his thumb brushing lazily over your nipple to pull a low moan from your parted lips.

With each wanton sound you make, his cock strains even harder beneath the thin fabric of his underwear. You can’t tell if the dampness between you is from him, you, or both.

You rock your hips forward—just enough to test the friction. The heat beneath his boxers makes you gasp, and now there’s no mistaking it: that wetness you feel is mutual.

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask, breath hitching when he ruts up against you just slightly.

His fingers flex around your body. “I said you can take what you want,” he nearly growls in restraint. “And I meant it.”

Another gasp tears from your throat as you grind more deliberately, chasing the right angle that makes your toes curl. The friction is rough, a little less forgiving than skin-on-skin, but Caleb doesn’t seem to care.

One of his hands continues to play with your nipples while the other rests on your waist. He’s not guiding you or controlling your movements. He’s staying true to his word and letting you do whatever you want to him.

“God,” you breathe, pressing your forehead to his as you move faster. “You feel so good, Caleb. I can feel you—so hot.”

“Yeah?” he rasps, sucking in a sharp breath when the cleft of your cunt nudges the head of his cock again. “Then keep going. That’s it,” he coos as you roll your hips a bit faster. “Rub that pretty pussy on me, baby.”

Your panties are ruined now, completely soaked through and sticking to you with every drag you make against his twitching erection. And even though he clenches his jaw and his muscles strain beneath you, he doesn’t even try to adjust himself. He just lets you hump him harder, your thighs beginning to tremble with the effort.

But this isn’t enough to push you over the edge. When you whine softly, he immediately knows what you need. He tugs your panties to the side, knuckles whitening as he grips it in a fist. Then he wastes no time bringing his other hand to your dripping entrance, sliding his fingers along your slit to gather the wetness there and glide up to your clit.

“Is this what you need?” Caleb murmurs, keeping his eyes on your face as he slowly circles the aching bud.

The direct stimulation makes you whimper and nod frantically, unable to use words to respond. And all the while, he stares at you with a strange mix of adoration and amusement.

He keeps watching, even as your eyes flutter shut and your head tilts back in a soundless cry of pleasure. No matter how many times he gets to do this with you, he will never stop drinking in all your little reactions with awe.

It’s like he still can’t believe he gets to slip two fingers inside your spasming cunt while his thumb replaces the quickening circles he was making around your clit.

With his fingers finally filling that deep, pulsing ache and pressing just right against your g-spot, you lose all sense of cautiousness. A more frenzied pace begins as you eagerly fuck yourself on his fingers and barrel toward your orgasm.

“This…s’unfair,” you slur through a needy whine as your head falls into the crook of his neck. “You’re cheating. Said you wouldn’t move.”

Caleb chuckles and curls his fingers by a fraction more, pressing even harder on that spot that makes you see stars. “But I’m not movin’, pip-squeak. You’re doing all the work for me.”

He winces a little when your fingers dig into the bruises blooming along his shoulders, but he doesn’t complain. His groan echoes in your ear before he presses a gentle kiss to your warm cheek. “You’re gonna come like this, aren’t you?”

You nod, desperate, panting into his neck. Your whole body tightens as the pleasure peaks—until you're clenching around him hard, hips stuttering as your pussy swallows his fingers and gushes against his palm.

Your voice cracks on his name, and distantly, you feel Caleb’s hips jerking at the same time something warm and wet coats his underwear. He moans with you, shaking as you slowly hump him a few more times while you come down from your high.

After a long moment, you slump forward, burying your face in his throat. Sweat and the smell of iron cling to his skin, but you still gingerly press a kiss to his neck while his fingers slide out and add to the slick mess where your lap meets his.

You glance down and bite your lip at the sight of his cum-stained boxers. It’s too tempting to reach down and tug the waistband below his half-hard cock, a cute little blush gracing his cheeks when you give in.

He looks so sweet and shy now—none of that smug confidence he had while his fingers were buried inside you.

You smear his cum around the tip of his cock, watching with satisfaction when it twitches and Caleb whines softly from oversensitivity.

“Did I hurt you at all?” You study his expression carefully for any hint of a lie.

He shakes his head, fingers gripping the sheets beside you when you start running the tip of your finger along his slit and around the head.

If he wasn’t in much pain before, he’s definitely feeling something now—his cock twitching in your palm, overstimulated and flushed. But you know he'd tap out if he needs to.

Chuckling softly, you ask, “Then should we go for another round?”

The teasing question is accompanied by you sliding off his body to rest your head on his lap, lips inching closer to his cock. When he only nods and whimpers from your breath fanning across his skin, you take it as a sign that he wants this.

“Alright,” you whisper before pressing a quick kiss to the tip. “But this time, you better behave…and stay still.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he croaks, already trembling—just before your mouth wraps around him, promising a whole new kind of ache.

a/n: I was stuck on this fic for so long, and I'm still not sure if I like it lol...but I'm hoping I did an okay job!

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banner and dividers by me (please don't repost)

[calebsdog]

"Caleb? I don't feel good."

Today was the most dreaded day of the month. The first day of your period. Also known as the worst day of your period. You've been powering through all of your worst symptoms since you got out of bed this morning.

Nausea? Check. The worst stabbing pain of your life in your abdomen? Of course. Mood swings? Do you even have to ask?

"Yeah honey. I know." Caleb hates your period almost as much as you do. To him, it doesn't matter if it only happens once a month. The fact that you had to endure this pain at all weighs him down.

"But you're being so brave. Do you know how much of a baby I would be if I had a period?" Tucking you closer against his side Caleb's warm, real hand comes to rest on your stomach. His warmth wasn't as effective as a real heating pad.

But it makes you feel spoiled. Which matters way more to you right now.

"I'd cry way more than you. Liam would have to drag me to work."

"You survived getting blown up."

"Yup. And it's definitely way easier than having a period."

"You're so dumb."

Caleb was definitely pandering. Still, it's enough to make a little laugh build in your chest. You've spent the whole day trying to find something to lift your spirits. Now that the opportunity has presented itself you want to stubbornly hide your smile from him.

He doesn't deserve to know he's actually funny.

"Dumb? I think the word you're trying to find is empathetic." But it was too hard to keep a straight face with Caleb. He sees right through you.

"Seriously though. Tell me if there's something I can do to make you feel better. I hate seeing you like this."

He's already gone above and beyond today. Cooking you a light brunch when you had finally managed to drag yourself out of bed around noon, something he knew wouldn't worsen your cramps, and coaxed you to eat as much as you could.

He ran to the store to buy an emergency pack of feminine products because you forgot to pick some up at the store this week. He doesn't even need you to remind him which brands you prefer before he leaves. He keeps a close eye on everything that you use.

And just taking the time out of his day to take care of you was enough to keep you from spiraling. There wasn't much you could ask him for that he hasn't already done for you without question.

"How about you tell me you love me? One hundred times." Caleb didn't have to keep himself busy to make you feel better. Actually, you'll punch him in the face if he stops holding you.

"Is that supposed to be a challenge?" Sure, it was a bit ridiculous when you made Caleb promise to fold you a thousand paper cranes when you were kids. The allowance he got back then was enough to buy you a few extra pieces of candy at the store. But a thousand pieces of paper was a bit too steep for him.

Caleb's been through a lot in his life. Telling you that he loves you has always been as easy as breathing.

"Then I have to make sure I don't lose. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you."

In retrospect? Your request was a terrible (wonderful) idea. He has you cuddled up in his lap now. His warm lips pepper sincere kisses all over your face.

"This is more than I asked for. Are the kisses a bonus?"

"Mhmmm." He doesn't get distracted.

"I love you, I love you, I love you..." You hope to keep count of how many 'I love you's he imprints into your skin. You want to get back at him if he miscounts. Do you really love me if you only said you love me ninety-three times, Caleb? But only a few kisses in, you've already lost count.

"I love you." The final, hundredth reassurance of his love is spoken directly against your lips. It flows through you, rattling around in your skull.

"I love you one hundred and one." Just to be extra, Caleb tells you one more time.

"Do you feel better now?" Caleb finally pulls his face a few inches away from yours. It doesn't feel like you took a single breath that entire time.

"Mentally? Yeah. You won, dummy." Sighing, you rest your head against his chest.

"Physically? My asshole just started cramping."

[calebsdog]

do you allow to translate your works into other languages (in this case i ask abt russian) with credit you as an author and link to your profile?

Absolutely! Anyone and everyone has permission to translate my fics as long as appropriate credits are given :)

Thank you for taking the time to ask and translate my work for other readers (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)

[calebsdog]

love letter practice

you were on a mission, and the mission must be to get caleb to lose his mind.

★pairing: caleb x reader ★wc: 1.9k ★content: old days (high school era), fluff, (mutual) pining, love letter confession (under the guise of "practicing"), caleb's pov. ★a/n: I had love letters on the brain and thought of this! I might end up doing a part 2 set during stage observer, where the "love letter" you find is the one here hehe ★masterlist

You were lurking.

Caleb paused in his studying for the umpteenth time that afternoon, glancing back to where your shadow crept under his door. You'd passed back and forth behind it for the past fifteen minutes, and he was too focused on his essay to call you out on it.

But as he wrapped up all his main points in the conclusion, he called without looking back, "Stop hovering, pips, you know I don't bite."

He smirked to himself when he heard you grumble on the other side, the door flying open and slamming shut in an instant.

"Not funny," you mumbled at his jab towards your old biting habits, and he directed his smirk over his shoulder at you.

You were still lingering on the edge of the room, and his joy quickly faded. He turned around in his desk chair to face you fully.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing," you said quickly, but your hands were behind your back the whole time, fidgeting with something he couldn't see.

Your eyes weren't meeting his either, and his head tilted, arching an eyebrow.

"Come over here," he urged you gently, patting the extra chair he kept next to his desk, just for when you wanted to come in and study with him.

Or, more likely, to pester him until he paid attention to you while he was trying to do his own homework.

You hesitated, then slowly came up, plopping down in the chair with your hands still behind your back.

"You gonna show me what you're holdin' onto so tightly there?"

You glared at him, and he just smiled sweetly, chin propped on his palm, trying to wear down your defenses.

It gave a boost to his pride when it worked, your shoulders deflating with a big sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, and he tensed again.

Were you being bullied? Did you fail a test? Or was it the nightmares again?

Whatever he thought might be wrong, it definitely wasn't you admitting that, "I want to write a love letter."

Caleb stiffened, his mind going to every dark place he tried to hide away from himself, every face of some loser with a hopeless crush on you flashing in his mind.

Outwardly, he tried to hide his troubled expression, but his brows furrowed anyway.

"Why do you want to write a love letter?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice even. But it was tight, his posture stiff when he looked down at his essay again, no longer seeing the words there. "You got someone in mind?"

"Well—no."

Caleb dared to look back up to see you were pouting. And even with the restless storm in his mind, he had to resist the urge to pinch the apples of your cheeks when they were all puffed out so cutely like that.

"But what if I do want to write one eventually?" you continued, in clear distress over a hypothetical situation that he hoped would never exist one day. "And I don't know how, and I just look stupid!"

"You'd never look stupid," he said quickly, effortlessly and honest, even as he frowned deeper at your explanation. "But I told you before, pips, letters are our thing. Why would you—"

He stopped short, breath catching in his throat when he finally saw what was in your hands as you held it out to him.

Across the front of an envelope of antique looking parchment, written carefully in cursive (you never used cursive, you hated how your handwriting looked in it, even though he thought it was perfect and pretty), was the letters spelling out his name.

Caleb looked from it, to you, then down to the envelope again.

"What's—"

"Practice," you interrupted, shoving it into his chest, and he scrambled to grab it. "I need you to tell me if it's any good."

"Pipsqueak, you—" Caleb cleared his throat, shifting nervously, his fingers almost shaking when he grazed them over his name. "You wrote me a love letter?"

"For practice!"

He laughed, and he hoped you didn't hear how winded the noise sounded. Because you'd sure stolen the breath right from his lungs with how you nervously fidgeted, avoiding his eyes, your love letter in his hands.

Your love letter.

For him.

Oh god.

He carefully unsealed the tape (one of your favorite decorative ones, with the cute little red and green apples dancing together), his heart in his throat as he pulled the letter out.

And oh god it smelled like that perfume you'd begged Gran to get you for your birthday, the one that was warm with vanilla and cinnamon and a hint of apples and it smelled amazing you were amazing you—

"Stop treating it like it's a bomb!" you complained, smacking him in the chest, and he laughed anxiously.

"I'm not!" he argued, not knowing how to tell you that this was something precious, something delicate, and he never trusted himself to not break something that special in his hands.

He got stuck for a moment on the Dearest Caleb that started out the letter, his fingertips brushing across it, before he forced himself to get past his nerves and read the first sentence.

A laugh got caught in his throat unbidden, and you were scrambling all over him in an instant, trying to grab it back as you shouted, "What? What?! What's so funny?"

"I am writing to you today," he repeated the start of your opening line, grinning at you as you whined and shook him. "This sure is a formal love letter. Are you courting me, pipsqueak?"

"Shut up!" you snapped, pinching him in the side, and he jumped with an over dramatic ow! "Give it back!"

"Noooope, it's mine now!" He grinned, wrapping his arm around you to keep you pressed to his side, and you playfully punched him while he held the letter over your head and kept reading silently.

'I am writing to you today to tell you what I've wanted to say for a really long time.'

Oh.

Caleb sucked in an unsteady breath, eyelashes fluttering with the indescribable emotion that swept through him.

It's just practice, he told himself over and over as you settled into his side. Your arms wrapped around his waist for comfort, your face burying into his chest with embarrassment. You don't mean it.

And then the next sentence hit.

'I like you, Caleb.'

Oh.

'I like you so much that it's hard to focus on anything but you. I think about you when I'm with you or when you're gone. I think about you during class, or when I'm watching your games, or when you make my favorite snacks after school.'

'I'm always thinking about how I want to hold your hand for longer when you walk me home. I want to hold you tighter when you hug me, and kiss—'

Caleb glanced away, eyes squeezing shut, face tilted up towards the ceiling as he mouthed a silent prayer that he didn't completely lose his mind right now.

Then he dared to look back down, to keep reading:

'—and kiss you on the sidewalk, in the rain, when you hold an umbrella over my head.'

He glanced at the top of your head, at how you held onto him so tightly, hoping against all hope that you couldn't hear or feel how his heart was pounding against his chest right now.

'You're cute, and you're funny, and you've always been nice to me, even when you're pretending to be mean just to tease me.'

"Caleb," you whined, poking him in the ribs as he read through each line carefully. "What do you think?"

"Well, so far it sounds like a birthday card," he teased, lying through his teeth just so you couldn't see right through him and tell how madly in love with you he was, as he'd always been.

You dropped your head onto his shoulder with a groan.

"But give me some time," he said softly. "I'm still makin' my way through it."

"Well, hurry up!" you poked at him impatiently again, and he brushed your hand aside with a laugh.

'You're my best friend, and I want you to be more than that, if you want it too.'

He could almost laugh at that if he wasn't so winded with emotion. If he wanted it. Like you weren't teasing him with all he's ever wanted, and telling him it was practice.

And then the last line hit him right where it hurt the most, in the part of him that's always ached for you, burrowing in there to stay.

'Would you ever be mine?'

"Well?" you said, untangling yourself from his slack grip. You bounced anxiously in your seat, and he hoped you couldn't see how red his face had gotten. "How is it? Did it make your heart flutter?"

Flutter? It nearly gave him a heart attack.

He wanted to give you a real answer to your fake question, to tell you yes. He wanted to scream it to the heavens, wanted to grab your face and kiss you all over and say yes. He would. He already was.

Caleb cleared his throat.

"It's good," his voice cracked when he said it and oh, god, could you see right through him?

"Really?"

You leaned closer, and Caleb quickly scrambled back, as far in the other direction as he could get as you kept creeping closer.

"Yeah, pips, real good," he complimented, carefully tucking the letter back into the envelope, his heart racing. "But, uh, you should keep practicing. On me."

You frowned a little, disappointed as always when you felt like you didn't nail something right on the first try. And he didn't have the guts to tell you that you absolutely did hit it right out of the park, his head all the way up in the clouds with the daydreams you'd fueled for him for the foreseeable future.

"Okay," you muttered, eyes downcast, and his heart ached.

"Hey," Caleb said softly, ruffling your hair gently. You peered up at him through your lashes with a pout, and he just about melted. "I told you it was good, didn't I?"

You sniffed, and he only then noticed your eyes were all teary. "Is it really?"

"Yeah." He rubbed his thumb at the corner of each of your eyes, trying to not look too adoring to cross a line when you leaned into his palm. "My heart's all a-flutter. Promise."

You smiled into his hand, and his heart skipped a beat again.

"Okay," you said with newfound determination, giving a resolute nod. "I'll keep practicing. Watch out for the next one, you'll be in love with me before you know it!"

Caleb choked on air at that.

He let you get all the way to the door, and listened to you open it before his resolve cracked.

"I would."

You paused, glancing back over your shoulder at him.

"Would what?" you asked, and Caleb let out a breathless laugh.

"Nothin', pipsqueak," he brushed off, pulling his textbook closer to himself, staring at the words that blended together, your letter on his desk still in the corner of his eyesight.

For a moment, you stayed in his doorway behind him. He could feel you staring. And he almost looked back.

What face were you making? he wondered. Was it the same as his?

Was the same hidden part of him hidden in you as well?

But then the door shut behind you, and Caleb collapsed with a heavy sigh, head banging against the desk.

"What are you doin' to me, pips?" he whispered under his breath, lovesick and bringing the letter up to his lips to kiss it with a dazed smile. "Whatever it is, please keep doin' it."

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[calebsdog]

"I'm home!" Pushing the front door open with his foot, Caleb shoulders his way through the entrance. Closing it with his ankle, he kicks his shoes off by the rug. He'll set them down neatly the next time his hands are free.

"It's your lucky day. The bakery had the chocolate cake you wanted. I picked up two for the trouble- woah!"

Caleb's quick reflexes are just enough to prevent the two boxes holding the delicate chocolate cakes you love so much from getting smooshed to death.

Tucking the containers in the crook of his shoulder he catches you with his free arm. He manages to keep both of you from falling butt first onto the floor and from ruining the expensive desserts he just picked up for you.

"You haven't greeted me at the door this enthusiastically since we were kids." Taking you with him, Caleb shuffles to the kitchen, slowed down by your leeching presence. Bending over the table, Caleb nudges the boxes with his shoulder, sliding them to safety.

"There we go. Now c'mere." Arms freed up, Caleb tugs you in for a proper hug. He's holding you normally. But you're wrapping your arms around his neck, forcing him to adjust to your height.

"Did I scare you that bad?" Caleb heard that you were close to tears over the phone. But he hadn't known how bad it was until he opened the door, catching a glimpse of your swollen eyes as you pounced him.

"It would be just like you. To leave me some cryptic, somber message before getting yourself killed." There was no reason to be upset with Caleb. Not this time, at least. It wasn't his fault that his signal was cut off and some messages weren't sent.

But if Caleb wasn't the way he was- you wouldn't have to worry about things like this in the first place!

"I only just promised to stay by your side forever. I wouldn't break it this quickly." Trying to cheer you up, Caleb nudges the engagement ring on your finger. He still smiles whenever he sees it. It was really there, sitting on your hand like it belonged.

"I won't give you a reason to cry anymore. I'm home now. As for my apology, how does a slice of chocolate cake before dinner sound?"

[calebsdog]

When Caleb misses you, his entire world remains revolved around your presence.

The Colonel confines in his office as often as he's able to get away with. The door is locked tight, a barrier between Caleb and the rest of the world.

"What?" A knock on the door, no matter who's on the other side, irritates him. He was moody when he was at work. But usually, he knows he's coming home to you by the end of the day. Your absence makes his workdays even harder.

"Sir, you're needed." Caleb's subordinates wouldn't interrupt his alone time unless it necessary. He views any disturbance as another toe out of line.

"Is someone dead or dying?"

"... No?"

"Then handle it yourself. Leave me be."

Slideshows of your smiling face flicker across Caleb's screen. He couldn't walk away right now, even if he wanted to. An invisible gravitational force, one he has become well acquainted with, prevents him from tearing his eyes away.

Caleb messages you nonstop while you're away. He's so bad about it that he knows you mute his notifications whenever you're busy. It's hard not to get distracted when the walls of texts he sends keep buzzing your phone.

I got a paper cut today at work

Now you can't say I hide injuries from you :p

He continues to message you anyways. At least you'll check them eventually, even if it will take many long, slow hours. He'll check his phone often, waiting to see his delivered message change to read.

Will I be lucky enough to get a video call tonight?

You'll be able to check out the wound yourself

I know you're really busy. But I hope you've been able to have a bit of fun in your spare time.

Don't do anything I wouldn't do though ;)

It's getting late. I'll stop spamming you for now. Sweet dreams ♡

Miss me as much as I miss you.

Caleb doesn't go to bed anytime soon after he bids you goodnight. He lays awake, his phone illuminating his exhausted, sunken expression. Through his earbuds plays an audio loop.

A short, three second clip of your sweet giggles. It replays automatically. He never gets tired of listening to the same sound over and over again. Your laughter washes over him, reminding him why he keeps fighting.

"I'm back!" Pushing open the front door to your house, you're first greeted by a mound of wrapped gifts. There was a neat pile in the middle of the living room. Every gift is tied together with colored, delicate ribbons.

Before you can get a longer look, your vision is blocked by a sturdy chest. His arms guide you into a warm, familiar embrace. You're trapped now. With no hope of getting away from him anytime soon.

"Welcome home." Caleb's soft cheek, freshly shaven in preparation of your arrival, nuzzles the top of your head. Just like that, the pieces settle back into place. That aching tightness in his lungs relaxes, giving him a moment to breathe in your presence.

It takes a while for Caleb to find the strength to let go of you. Now that you were standing here whole, well, unharmed, he wanted to close any semblance of distance between you.

"I wanted you to have lots of things to smile about when you came back." Caleb keeps you settled in his lap when you start opening your gifts. Chin resting on your shoulder, he studies every micro expression decorating your face.

It doesn't make up for your time apart. But he has you now. He's the one responsible for your joy after a tiring trip away from home.

"I finally have a reason to smile too."

[calebsdog]

Thank you for the tags @asiatic-apple and @lotusapple-xia :) being invited into all these tag games is always so fun!

i'm over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don't often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i have never dated anyone / i have a best friend i've known for over five years / i am an only child

No pressure tag to @reit0o if you haven't already been tagged :)

tag game 🤭

rules: color the sentence that's true about you

i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child

this is a whole lot of yellow lmfao

no pressure tags: @marthawrites @schniiipsel @aemonddtargaryen @aemondsbabe @adragonprinceswhore @arcielee @black-dread @lovelykhaleesiii @aemondsbabygirl @valeskafics @connorsui

[calebsdog]

"Alright, I really, really, really have to go!" Gripping the handle of your suitcase with white knuckles, you struggle to shove your feet into your shoes without a free hand.

You, Tara, and Simone have been planning a girls trip for ages. This week you've all taken some time off the work. For the next week, you and your best friends will be getting a much needed getaway at a beach.

A beach far away from Linkon. Which is why you needed to take a plane to get there. A train ride would take forever, going by car was inconceivable. A plane ride you were cutting very close to missing.

"Bye Caleb! I love you so, so much. I'll be back in a week, okay? I'll send you tons of pictures." Toddling over to the couch, you press a hasty kiss to Caleb's lips. It wasn't a proper goodbye kiss. But you had a flight to catch. Turning around, you were already rushing to the front door.

"Sweetheart?" Without standing up, Caleb calls out to you from his seat. Your hand freezes on the door knob, your feet skidding to a halt on the carpet.

"Huh?"

"Did you remember to pack your charger?"

It comes rushing back to you now. You wanted your phone to be fully charged before you left for your flight. But you had forgotten to put your charger back into your suitcase after you pulled your phone off the plug.

"Oh, thanks Caleb. You're a lifesaver." Running back to the bedroom, you pull your charger from your outlet. You carelessly shove your charger into one of the side pockets.

"Okay, seriously this time. I really have to go. Bye Caleb!" Rushing over to press another goodbye kiss to Caleb's mouth, you're heading for the front door for the second time.

"Baby?" Only for Caleb to stop you again.

"What?"

"Do you have your sunscreen?" The place you were visiting was going to be nothing but hot, hot Sun all week. It wouldn't be good or safe for your skin to be exposed to the scorching heat for that long.

"Ugh, thank you. You're right." Zipping into the bathroom, you snatch the bottle of sunscreen you had forgotten on the sink. This time, you don't bother putting it into your suitcase. Shoving it into your pocket, you're practically sprinting to the front door.

"Honey?"

"Oh, what now?" When Caleb stops you for the third time, you have reached your limit. How many things have you forgotten to pack?

"Heh." Smiling to himself, Caleb places the book he was reading on the coffee table. Digging into his pants pocket, Caleb pulls out his ring of keys.

"You'll get there a lot faster if we take my aircraft. Come on, I'll drive you."

"But my plane ticket was super expensive. It's too late to change plans."

"I got a refund for your ticket the day that you bought it. Now, you'll be saving time and money. Aren't you happy?"

"... You're so annoying."

[calebsdog]

I've been offline for a few days to spend time with visiting family. However, this finally happened today. Very fitting timing for the wedding banner

I should have something to post tomorrow :)

[calebsdog]

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

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

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

"Gran? I think Caleb is getting sick."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[calebsdog]

Omg hii! Congrats on 200! I was wondering if the ask for the event is still open? I was hoping to ask for smut prompt 11 (quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials) with zayne. Thank you! I hope you're having a wonderful day! Congrats on 200!

Thank youuu 💕 Tbh I’m not sure if I captured zayne properly here since this is my first time writing smut for him 🙈 so please feel free to leave any constructive criticism. I hope this is to your liking though!

Mid-shift fix

Zayne x female reader

Prompt: quickie where you don’t take any clothes off, just tug and pull and expose the essentials

Content: sex in a public place (no one sees it), slightly mean dom zayne, brat tamer zayne, “sweetheart” used as a pet name for reader, also he calls you a “brat” and a “naughty girl” (i’m sorry if this is an ick), creampie and pulling the panties over afterwards

Zayne should be diligently reviewing patient files. Instead, he’s got you pinned to the wall of his office, your panties hastily shoved to the side and your cunt squeezing around his cock with every ragged breath you take.

His crisp dress pants are barely pulled down. Your blouse is half unbuttoned from how frantically he’d fumbled to feel your skin. The only thing keeping you upright is his solid frame pressing you against the wall—and his harsh grip, fingers digging into one plush thigh as he keeps you wrapped tight around him. His other hand is braced against the wall beside your head, nearly clawing at it as he tries not to lose his mind completely.

“You have approximately five minutes,” he says sternly, even though his voice is rough with desire. “Make it count.”

You whimper, clinging to his shoulders and creasing his pristine white shirt. “You’re the one who interrupted our lunch together,” you tease breathlessly.

Zayne hums a low, humorless sound. “Because you were mouthing off all through lunch. Testing my patience.”

You try to retort, but the way he slams back inside you turns your words to a soft, garbled cry. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and sex, thanks to the sheen of sweat coating both of your bodies—and the coupling of your slick arousal that forms a creamy ring around his cock. He glides in and out of you too easily, the wet sound of it loud enough to make your skin prickle with the fear that someone passing by outside might hear the suspicious sounds.

“I can’t focus when there’s a brat in my office,” he says through gritted teeth, punctuating the statement with a sharp thrust that makes you moan. “But it seems you like to misbehave when you’re with me.”

His voice stays soft even in this moment, still measured and clinical as he reprimands you. It makes your spine go stiff and your cunt clench harder around him. He smirks when he feels it. “Such a naughty girl.”

Even though he teases you for being needy, you can feel him twitch inside you, getting closer with each delicious thrust. He groans against your neck, breath hot and uneven. When he’s this close to your skin, he can’t help but nip at it, leaving small love bites all over you.

“Your time is almost up, sweetheart,” he whispers near your ear, breath tickling your skin when he chuckles at your increasing whines.

Zayne slides a hand between your bodies to rub your clit in tight, punishing circles. It’s not slow or indulgent—just efficient, deliberate. It’s the way he does everything when he’s at work. Like he knows exactly how to get you to crumble in the least amount of time. And he’s succeeding.

“Be good for me now,” he mutters, pace increasing as your legs tremble around him. “Come on my cock so I can get back to work.”

You can’t help but listen when he gets like this—scarily authoritative in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. It’s clear he’s solely focused on punishing you with an orgasm that is too fast, too fleeting to fully satisfy you. And then he’ll send you home with a wet, sticky reminder of your misbehavior seeping through your panties and trailing down your thighs.

Still, you can’t stop the pleasure that rolls through you. Your body tenses, mouth open in a silent cry as your orgasm turns your body to jelly.

Zayne curses, biting his bottom lip to stay quiet, but his controlled thrusts falter with the way your walls flutter around him. He fucks you through it, chasing his own high now with quick, shallow thrusts. And then he buries himself deep and chants your name like a prayer as he pulses inside you.

For a long moment, he doesn’t move. He just leans into you, forehead resting against yours and breath fanning across your lips. His cum drips out of you in slow, warm rivulets the moment he pulls out with a soft groan. Then he carefully sets you down on shaky legs and pulls your panties back up over the mess to keep it all smeared against your puffy folds.

There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he fixes your skirt and blouse with those precise fingers of his. No matter how much you try, everyone will see how thoroughly fucked you are when you walk out of the hospital. But no one will dare say a word to the girlfriend of the esteemed Doctor Li.

“You should go,” he says quietly, already adjusting his own clothes and reaching for the files on his desk.

At first, you think he’s back to his usual cold, strictly professional self. But before you can turn, he cups your jaw and kisses you slowly. His lips mold against yours with more reverence than the clash of teeth from a few minutes ago. He has to use all his willpower to eventually pull away and leave you panting softly.

“I’ll text you when I’m done with work,” he says, brushing his thumb under your lip in a poor attempt to quell the desire to kiss you again. “I’ll be more thorough with your punishment when I come home.”

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dividers by me (please do not repost)

[calebsdog]

This is probably a reallyyy niche thought but...

Caleb and Mc living Tanjiro and Nezuko's story. Caleb leaves the house one night and when he returns in the morning all he can see is blood. Gran had been slaughtered by demons and Mc was just barely hanging on.

But Mc wasn't just injured. She had been turned into a demon. At first, she attacks him, trying to eat him like all hungry demons would. It doesn't take long for Mc to come back to herself. No one knows why or how she can control her own hunger but she's practically glued to Caleb's side.

Caleb becomes a demon slayer in hopes of finding a cure for his meimei. I can't get this out of my head until I say something...