ninjashouyo

[ninjashouyo]

[scenario/drabble] say it again

LIs react when you say their name, but not the one you usually call them by. (They love it. SO much.)

Genre: Fluff, TW: suggestiveness

(Note: HC all the LADS men are at least bilingual/trilingual for work purposes or just bc they've lived long enough)

SYLUS

The rain hits the glass panels like a scatter of beads, the curtains of dense raindrops draping over the N109 zone late at night.

Seeing that it is a slow night for Sylus, you decide to try your idea out.

His glass of whiskey pauses halfway to his lips when you pronounce "Qín Chè" with perfect inflection.

The ice cubes clink as he slowly sets it down.

"Now that," he purrs, rising from his chair with a predatory grace, "is a dangerous thing to know."

In your next breath, he appears in a cloud of black-red mist, leaning down to you with a hand in his pocket.

"Did you research me that thoroughly? Or..." His breath ghosts your ear, "have you been hiding secrets?"

When you admit to practicing, he chuckles. "Even more dangerous. Now I'll have to teach you all the ways I want to hear my name...in private."

And so you learn, saying his name like a prayer while his lips graze over your neck and his arms keep you pressed close to him. Soon, your attempts are swallowed by his hungry kisses, and lost between stuttered breaths.

The next night, he makes you do it all over again.

_____

XAVIER

The way back home is quiet, crowds dwindling quickly after dinner hours in the dreary weather. It's still drizzling, but you're under a covered walkway for this stretch of the walk.

There's a comfortable silence between you and Xavier, and you decide to test something out.

"Shěn Xīnghuí," you say softly, watching the light reflect in his widened eyes like stars.

"You...know." The way he says it makes you realize this isn't just about language- you've spoken a name he thought he'd never hear you say in this lifetime.

He takes both your hands, holding them delicately as he moves closer to you. "Say it again," he whispers.

You repeat his name, louder this time. The night suddenly feels sacred as the syllables hang between you.

He doesn't speak, only brushes his thumb lightly over your knuckles as he looks at you the way a stargazer would observe a meteor shower.

Then you feel the slightest squeeze on your hands.

“Let's head back quickly,” he says, moving to keep a hand on your waist on the way home. He turns to press a quick kiss to your temple. “Now that I know you can say my name this way… I won't let you stop at just saying it twice.”

_____

ZAYNE

When you pass by the reception desk at the cardiology ward, You wave to the nurses on your way in and greet Zayne in a sing-song voice.

It's a phrase you practiced, over and over in front of a mirror.

“Lí Shēn, I'm here~ I'll just leave your lunchbox on the table,”

His gaze snaps to you.

The receptionist nurse freezes as their usually unflappable chief surgeon stares at you like you've grown a second head.

"...That pronunciation is very precise," he finally says, clicking his pen shut and taking some charts from the shelf.

Later, in his office, he has you trapped against the table. He's careful not to make noise, his steps slow and deliberate until the back of your legs are pressed up against the cool wooden surface.

"Who taught you that?" He asks quietly.

You blink. He seems almost too calm- like he's trying hard not to let something irritate him. Something is simmering in his gaze, but it's one of those times where you can't quite place your finger on what it is.

“Well- I remember knowing you had a different name, but I just never actually asked you about it even after all this time-” You explain, “It came up when I went over the university alumnae list-”

“Are you a personal investigator now?” He says, inching even closer to you.

“I was just… sorry, I shouldn't have called you by another name in the hospital,”

He exhales, the hint of a smile gracing his sharp features. “No- don't apologize, my love. I have no reason to be unhappy-” When he wraps his arms around you, the tension in your cautious stance melts into familiar warmth.

The slightly coarse fabric of his doctor's coat rubs against your face, but you snuggle closer.

“-However,” he continues, voice low, “My private investigator, I can't let you leave just yet.”

He keeps you locked in place with a hand around your waist. “I have five minutes until my ward round. If you're ever going to say my name like that again..." His lips brush yours, "you'll do it where I can properly appreciate it."

_____

RAFAYEL

The name you learned isn't Lemurian- it's something you came across in a luxury-lifestyle magazine interview done years ago that lay forgotten inside one of his storage crates. You had gone to your friend and asked them to help with the pronunciation, and practiced till you could say it naturally within conversations.

"Qí Yù! Is this a new piece of artwork?" You call across the studio.

"Yeah it- WHAT DID YOU JUST-?!" He leaps over the couch.

"Say that again," he demands, gripping your shoulders.

When you repeat it with a grin, he gasps.

"You've been holding out on me! Oh, you say my name so wonderfully," He gushes with a smile so dazzling it would put the glittering sunset ocean to shame.

"Wait." He squints. "Did Thomas teach you? I'LL KILL HIM-"

You have to physically restrain him from storming off, and his arm almost slips between your grip.

“Rafayel! No, it's just me- I read in an old interview that you had a different name and-”

“So you've been reading about me- when you can just ask me anything?” He pouts.

You blink. “How would I even begin to know you have different names?”

He puts his hands on his hips, seemingly acknowledging an impasse.

Then he sighs and opens his arms wide. “Come here, cutie,”

His scent envelopes you as you sink into his embrace, and he rubs circles into your back.

His voice is lower when he speaks, “I will take a break now- I need some inspiration from you.”

_____

CALEB

It's rare that you ever tag along to Caleb's gym sessions. Aside from schedules never aligning, you always knew his workout routine was rigorous and intense, so you wouldn't want to distract him.

Apart from that, he is also a huge source of distraction to you.

Right now, he's doing shoulder presses while seated on the gym bench, looking absolutely distracting. The stair master machine faces the mirror, giving you a clear view of him.

There's no way you can complete your usual routine, so you approach him.

Time to call it a day at the gym.

"Xià Yǐzhòu," you call out.

His dumbbells wobble mid-air.

"Holy-" He braces himself and rights his grip, bringing the dumbbells back down to rest them on his knees.

When he looks up, his expression does something complicated. "...Haven't heard that in a while," he murmurs, placing the dumbbells on the floor and rubbing his neck.

There's a vulnerability in his eyes you rarely see. “What happened to ‘Caleb’?” he asks.

When you explain your practice sessions, his boyish grin returns.

"Well damn, pips."

He tackles you into a hug that nearly has you topple over- but he catches you. With the way he's looking at you now, you're glad the gym is quiet. Even after being with him, he never fails to get your pulse soaring with his stupid, rugged charm.

“Ew, Caleb your sweat-”

“I don't recall you having a problem with that last night,” he murmurs, holding you closer.

“Caleb, I swear-” You jab at his sides with your fingers, scrambling to find an excuse to get him to stop teasing, “I'm sweaty too, it's gross.”

It almost works. He squirms, but his grip doesn't loosen in the slightest.

“Xià Yǐzhòu-”

He hums contentedly, patting your hair to placate you, "Thaaaat's more like it. Now gotta hear that every morning."

His whisper turns teasing, "And every night. Especially when you're begging me to-" You clap a hand over his mouth.

“Caleb!”

He kisses your palm, then gently takes your hand from his face.

“Call me the other name again and I'll let you go,”

_____

Edit: (note: their chinese names are so beautiful and poetic and suits their characterisation/personalities so well I cant even begin to describe how much I love ! !! And especially the exact words/characters chosen for their names too where my multilingual stans at!!! OK incoherent vent over thank u all for reading <3)

[ninjashouyo]

[scenario/drabble] Take a bite

LIs react when you have a squabble with them and use "bite me" as a retort. (You give them an opportunity, and they gladly take it) Genre: Fluff, TW: suggestiveness

SYLUS

The argument over which movie to watch dissolves into playful bickering, and Sylus lounges on the couch with that infuriating smirk.

He agreed to watch your pick right after casually commenting on how it is overrated.

"Bite me," you huff, crossing your arms. His crimson eyes darken instantly. 

"Oh, kitten," he murmurs, closing the distance between you languidly. "You shouldn't make that sort of threat."

Before you can react, his teeth graze your neck- just sharp enough to make you gasp. He pulls back slightly, and you feel his tongue dart out to soothe the skin. "Still feeling stubborn?" 

His hand slides up the back of your neck. "Or should I leave more marks to prove my point?" 

A thrilling wave of excitement curls through you, and you can't hide the grin that spreads over your face. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

He exhales, slow and measured, backing you into the corner of the couch. “It can be anything, kitten... But I can see that you want it. So it doesn’t change what I’m going to do,”

You tilt your chin up in a challenge. “Go ahead then, I’d love to see you prove your point,”

“As you wish,” he murmurs, lips touching your pulse point before he sinks his teeth into the soft skin, letting out a low hum when your fingers thread into his silver locks. 

“Someone's enjoying themselves,” he purrs, warm breath fanning over your skin as he nips at the sensitive patch again. 

Then the warmth vanishes, along with his looming presence. He reappears, leaning back against the couch just next to you.

Red-black mist coils around your waist, and you find yourself being seated, facing the TV, on his lap.

“Regardless, we still have to watch the movie,”

You scramble off with a huff, then straddle his lap- facing him this time. “I'm not watching any stupid movie when you are doing all that. Like you said, I was enjoying myself there-”

He smirks, hands finding their way around your waist.

“It's good to see you being honest about it, kitten. I like that.” His lips graze your collarbone, and you let out a shaky breath as he starts creating one out of many red imprints that bloom on your skin.

_____

XAVIER

The groceries on the counter are separated into two neat piles- yours, his. Not that it matters too much, you two are in each other's apartments often enough that snacks are always shared. But the groceries aren't for tonight, since it'll be your weekly night out with Xavier.

You’re debating the best BBQ restaurant in the city, and he is stubbornly saying nothing can compare to wagyu yakiniku when you snap, "Bite me!" 

Xavier blinks, then tilts his head like you’ve presented him with a fascinating riddle. 

"If you insist," he murmurs, and in less than a blink he is lifting your wrist to his mouth. His teeth press gently into your skin, more a caress than a bite. 

When he pulls back slightly, his lips brush the spot. "There," he muses. 

“Xavi!” You laugh, half-heartedly flicking his forehead.

"Done as requested.”

“But Xavi,” you argue, unaware of the heat in his downcast eyes. “K-BBQ is still the best to me,”

“Alright,” he says placidly, fingers tracing your skin, gaze still on your wrist.

Then he bites.

You gasp, instinctively yanking your hand back- but his grip is tight.

“Isn't this what you asked me to do?” He asks, blue eyes finally meeting yours in that familiar soft, innocent gaze.

But you know better.

You narrow your eyes at him, “Don't you gaslight me,”

“I concede, whatever you choose is better,” he says distractedly, eyes dark as he pulls you closer. “If you let me have just one more bite- I'll agree to go to whichever restaurant you pick,”

He lets you pick the restaurant- but he also leaves far more than just one bite.

____

ZAYNE  

It’s a weekend where Zayne has both days off, and he’s at yours, planning out your day. Visiting a bookstore, then a stroll in the park, grocery shopping, then dinner. Problem is, he doesn’t want to go to the new cafe despite its stellar reviews for both sweets and drinks.

"Bite me," you grumble after losing yet another debate on why the cafe’s carrot cakes are worth a try. It’s the third attempt this week at persuading him to go.

Even if you’d put a slideshow together on reasons why it’s worth, he probably wouldn’t budge. 

Zayne glances at you, his gaze cool and tinged with slight judgement. "Unhygienic." But then his grip tightens on your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

"However," he says, voice dropping, "if you’re requesting a demonstration of my jaw strength-" 

His teeth sink into your shoulder, just shy of painful. You yelp, arching against him, and he smirks against your skin. 

Dammit. He really hates carrots enough to play dirty- and now you have another problem. You like it.

"I can stop." He murmurs, lips brushing where he'd just bitten.

You inhale a shaky breath as you grip his arms. “Zayne-”

“Mm?”

“Do it again,” you whisper, letting your fingers trail up his forearms.

His breath hitches, and his eyes turn sharper. “I wasn't expecting such a strong effect,”

“You're the one changing the independent variable, doctor Zayne,”

He sits you on the kitchen counter and mouths at another patch of skin- just near your collarbone, “More data is needed to support this hypothesis, then,”

Between kisses and bites, you hazily think- maybe your effort in persuading him is worth it in the end.

_____

RAFAYEL 

There’s no doubt Rafayel had incredible talent, but the price of art could be baffling at times. Especially the amounts people were willing to shell out during auctions. 

You took a playful jab at him about his abstract painting just as you were unwrapping a few sandwiches and pastries to share with him. This led to the food being forgotten, and Rafayel’s passionate vent on why abstract art had its place. 

You play along, genuinely interested in his perspective- but enjoying his reactions even more.

"Bite me!" you retort mid-argument.

Rafayel gasps, clutching his chest. "Savage!" 

Then he grins, wicked. "But since you asked so boldly..." In a flash, he’s pinned you to the couch, nipping at your collarbone.

You squirm, trying to kick at him half-heartedly.

"Mmm, delicious," he hums against your skin.

“Don’t eat me, food’s right there!”

His laughter is bright as you shove him off, but he's quick to hook an arm around your waist and bring you onto his lap. “Food can wait,” he says before biting down lightly on your skin again.

When you try to flick him on the forehead, he catches your wrist. “Hey now, you tried to talk smack about art, and now you’re going back on your word- that’s two strikes in one shift, Miss Bodyguard,”

You drop a quick kiss onto his forehead, and he lets out a small huff. “That wasn’t your bodyguard speaking, she’s very professional. It’s just me now,”

“In that case, cutie-” His lips capture yours in a kiss, his eyes promising he’s far from done. “I hope you’re ready for more.”

_____

CALEB 

It was one time that you got lost on the way to meet him, and Caleb has never let you live it down ever since. He has his car keys in hand, ready to leave home, when you tell him you can guide him to the new ramen shop. And here he is, grinning at you with his arms crossed.

Your sense of direction is perfectly fine.

"Bite me," you challenge. 

Caleb’s grin turns wolfish. "You sure?" he asks, already crowding you against the wall. 

You nod- of course you know your way around the city. He can't keep holding a single incident against you.

Caleb, however, has other things on his mind. He ducks his head, his teeth scraping your earlobe. 

“Caleb- what are you doing?!”

“You told me to,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. You find yourself suppressing a shiver.

“Not literally!” You yelp when he bites again, this time at the soft skin below your ear.

"Damn, pips," he murmurs, "Should’ve remembered you taste this good-”

You feel your face heat up from hearing his voice, low and rough- the way it gets when he's ready to toss aside any plans for you- what follows is usually dizzying pleasure.

“You're getting all quiet now,” he teases, pulling you in.

“Caleb- wait, dinner-”

His hands roam lower, pulling you in. "Do you really think I’d pass up on a chance like this? Now... where else should I bite?"

(Note: this was inspired by how it's technically canon that Sylus is bitey and I thought hm well what if something made all of them want to bite? and it turned out very fun to write teehee thanks for reading <3)

[ninjashouyo]

[scenario/drabble] Not Like That

Summary: LIs react when you hum a breakup song around them, getting worried when they pick up on the lyrics about an unhappy relationship. You comfort them when you realise they misunderstood and got spooked. It all ends well <3 (based on a submitted prompt)

Genre: Fluff (mild hurt/comfort bc the men got terrified)

SYLUS

You hum the chorus while folding laundry, oblivious- until Sylus’s hand stops yours. “Interesting choice of lyrics.” His tone is light, but his crimson eyes are sharp. “Care to explain why you’re singing about replacing me?”

Your stomach drops. Oh, shit- the lyrics. “Wait- I just like the melody-”

He takes a step closer. “Because I hear you singing about... needing someone ‘inside’,”

His lips brush the shell of your ear. “And if that's your wish, I’ll ruin you until you forget your own name.”

His words send a flurry of flashbacks to the night before- him carrying you from the living room to the bed, with you already kissed breathless at that point. And what happened after you got to the bed still brings a fresh wave of heat creeping up your neck to your cheeks.

“You’re thinking loudly again, kitten.”

“Yeah, of you.” You tiptoe, draping your arms on his shoulder to look into his eyes. “Only you,” you murmur, kissing him softly when he leans down, “You’re all I ever want and need, Sylus. I mean it.”

He nips your lip. “Mm. Why don't you say that again?”

You slap his chest lightly, “Don’t push your luck,”

His hands find your hips as he holds you against the dresser, closing the space between you. “Hm. But you owe me a proper apology, sweetie.”

Sylus never pouts, but this is the closest expression he’s ever made. And you see it- just barely hidden by his calm facade- is an earnest longing for reassurance. As if you'd ever, ever need anybody else when he is standing right in front of you. It tugs at your heartstrings.

You brush your thumb along his ear. “I’m sorry for scaring you, baby. I’ll make it up to you,”

His chest rumbles with a satisfied hum as he brings you closer to him.

_____

ZAYNE

Zayne pauses mid-sip of tea as you sing "He gives what he can~" under your breath, pouring yourself a second cup. His hazel-green eyes narrow. “Are you… unhappy?” The question is calm, but his knuckles tighten around his mug.

You open your mouth to explain, but he cuts you off. “I’d rather you tell me than sing it to a playlist.”

His bluntness speaks volumes- while he could be curt and straightforward, it’s rare for him to speak like this on lazy weekend mornings. You feel your heart sink when you see him watching you with unmasked concern. You hurriedly set the teapot down on the coffee table, turning to him.

You place your hands around his, guiding him to put his mug down. “Oh, Zaynie- I’m- it’s not that,”

He blinks, then exhales, gazing at his hands enclosed by yours. Only then, do you move closer to cup his face. “It’s just a random song. I promise. You make me happier than anything.”

He nods, pulling you into his chest. “... Please choose one that doesn’t make my pulse spike.”

You think of the cutest, cheesiest love ballad from animated movies- then you start singing, serenading him. You barely get to the pre-chorus when you see him struggle to fight off a growing smile, and you poke his cheeks, continuing to sing.

“Thank you,” He whispers when you stop, his smile gentle.

You tackle him in a hug, “Don’t thank me, you silly, beautiful man I love you so, so much”

_____

XAVIER

The last of the night’s dishes are cleared away from the table and stacked near the sink. Xavier’s blue eyes widen as you sing "Softer, harder, in between" while rinsing soap off some dishes he hands you.

“You- want that?” His voice cracks.

“Huh?” You freeze when realization hits- you’ve been singing for a while now, and the lyrics are hardly anything suitable for a cosy night in. It’s about intimacy, sure- but also about heartbreak, cheating, and things that you won’t ever relate to. “No! It’s just catchy!”

He steps closer, rinsing his hands under the tap and using the front of his shirt to dry them hastily. Fingers trembling as they brush your waist. “If there’s anything I’m doing wrong, or something I’m not doing… whatever you need. Just let me know.”

Pain squeezes your heart. “Xavier, you’re my everything. There’s nothing wrong with us, it’s just a song.”

With a shaky sigh, he buries his face in your neck. “My starlight, please don’t scare me like that. I don't think I can bear the thought of... whatever you were singing about,"

You wrap your arms around him, reaching up to stroke his hair. “Xavi- I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry, I really am,”

You feel him press a kiss to the side of your neck. “It's ‘kay,” he murmurs, soft lips brushing your skin as he speaks.

"I should've given you context-" you continue, but he shakes his head as he pulls away to look at you, his blue eyes as calm as ever.

His hands on your waist are steady now- firm, even. “There is only one context that matters. Which one are you requesting for tonight? Softer… or harder?”

_____

RAFAYEL

Rafayel drops his paintbrush when you murmur the lyrics "He is stable, you are deep."

“Excuse me? I’m the boring one?!” His eyes flash as whirls around, bristling with indignance.

You try to backtrack, but he’s already draping himself over you. “I’ll drown you in ‘deep,’” he huffs, covering your face in kisses as he nuzzles against you like a disgruntled cat marking his owner. As much as he hates cats, he does act like one in times like these.

“Raf, I'm sorry! It really mmmph–” he smothers you with another kiss, “it's just a song- I'm not-”

You get cut off by a flurry of kisses pressed to your cheeks, the corner of your lips, then your mouth.

You cup his face and squeeze his cheeks likely. “My love, I'm trying to apologize to you!”

He frowns, “And stable is not in my vocabulary. Glub glub,”

(He kisses you senseless, and only then does a satisfied smile return to grace his features.)

_____

CALEB

Caleb’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as you absentmindedly sing a tune that's been on your playlist for the past week.

When you get to the lyrics "Oh yeah, baby, touch me”, he stops you, voice quietly cutting through the cabin. “…Who.”

It’s not a question. You panic when understanding dawns on you. “Wait- it's not- It’s just a song, Caleb!”

He lets out a sharp exhale, keeping his eyes straight ahead and drives until you exit the highway.

He pulls over.

“Then why does it sound like a confession of sorts? Are we having a falling-out?” He grits out.

You gently place your hand over his white-knuckles, brushing your fingers over his. “This song's just been on my playlist… it means nothing to me. I promise, Caleb.”

He sighs, flexing his fingers to release his grip on the steering wheel. He catches your wrist softly, then presses a kiss onto your palm. “Just… tell me if there's something wrong, yeah? You can take it out on me, but just- just don't sing breakup songs like that,”

The desperate tinge in his voice makes your heart sink, and you pull him close to peck his cheek, then his lips. His shoulders loosen, yet his violet eyes glimmer with depths of unspoken fears.

“Okay,” you nod, then tap the tip of his nose lightly. “Mr Colonel, I'm guilty of making you worried, so- you can deal with me as you see fit when we get home,”

He breathes a shaky laugh, raking his fingers through his hair. “God damn, pips. You're really trying to give me cardiac arrest today,”

Note: This came from a submitted prompt <3 It was a little tricky to write bc i couldnt fully imagine how they'd react in that situation ngl?? Lmk what yall think :') also I have a few WIPS but atm my brain is playing kpdh songs all day and its a bit hard to think and write i keep wanting to write lads men as the saja boys ANYWAYS THANKS YALL FOR READING <33 Comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated <3

✨️

[ninjashouyo]

my bank account is your bank account

synopsis: you didn't use his card to pay

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Zayne

He worked hard to be a cardiac surgeon just to treat your heart condition—what makes you think his money is where he draws the line? He’d just finished his second surgery today, a CABG that took 6 hours, and the first thing he sees on his phone is a text message from you.

“Hey, Zayne. Do you prefer spicy or not spicy soup? I’m at the store to buy the ingredients!”

He smiles, already imagining you waiting for him while cooking.

He replies, “Spicy is fine, I placed my card on the back of your phone. Be safe.”

Just as he placed the phone down, it beeps again from your text.

“It’s fine, I bought my card with me. And it’s just groceries, I can handle it.”

His brow furrows as he noisily types to call your phone, “I gave it to you with the intention that you’ll use it whenever you need. It doesn’t matter if it’s just groceri—”

“Okay! Okay, I’ll use it, alright? Since you insist, I’m buying these expensive lotions I’d been eyeing on.”

He sighs, “If you’re gonna buy those lotions, the least you can do is buy me those hard candy, that blueberry cheesecake we always buy, and those lollipo—”

“I’m getting you ONE pack of candies.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Caleb

This man would be crashing out if he can’t provide for you. He even gets upset when you don’t need his help in getting things from the top shelf. Here he was with a smug smile on his face while handing you his card,

“Use it whenever you need to, pips. Rest assured it won’t ever maxed out.”

That smirk was so irritating that you wanted to wipe it off his face.

“Mhm? Why do I need to? I get payed just fine! And it’s not like other people don’t pay for me.”

“Huh?”

God, that dumbfounded look was just so satisfying to see. Of course, with Caleb paying for whatever you need almost all his life, you weren’t gonna turn down his offer.

He flicks your forehead, “You don’t even need other people’s money. And they don’t treat you always! Just use mine and you can use it endlessly.”

He’s looking at you with his signature puppy eyes and you know you just lost.

Sighing, you take his card, “Fine, and I better not hear any complaints from you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Sylus

You knew this man doesn’t care even if you spent billions of his money—he literally let you spend more than 10 million a few days after you met. It’s not like you had a problem with spending his money (you don’t); it’s just nice to tease him every now and then, even if it backfires on you most of the time.

You were in the middle of a date when you decided to mess with him.

“Sy, does it taste good?”

He hums, “It tastes quite nice. You always pick the right places, sweetie.”

You smile, “Of course! Since I’m paying, it should be worth it.”

He freezes mid-bite and places his spoon down, “Are you now? If I may say, the soup was quite salty, the pasta lacked flavor, and the tiramisu was just an abomination.”

You smack his arm, “Hey! You said it was nice!”

He smirks, “I’ll pay for it, sweetie, since it wasn’t worth it,” already reaching for his wallet.

Why do you even try?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Rafayel

“Baby, do you think this looks nice?” You gave your phone to Rafayel so he can see the sweater that you wanted. He shrugs, “It’s cute, perfect for rainy days.” You smile, proceeding to check out the sweater, “It’s 115 dollars, it’ll be delivered by next week!” He slowly turns his head, “Next week?" “Yeah!”

He slowly walks toward you and grabs you by the shoulders, “Cutie, did you already pay for it?”

You nod, “Yeah, why? Did you want one too?”

His shoulders slumped as he dramatically flings his arm around, “What?! Since when did you pay for your things? I’m transferring that money to your card.”

You lightly punch his shoulder, “Ayel! There’s no need, I have my own money.”

He raises his eyebrow, “And? I’m still wiring you that money.”

You try to argue, but he’s already tip-tapping away on his phone.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Xavier

“Xavi, what do you want for dinner?” You climbed on the couch and laid on his lap while fumbling on your phone. He shrugs, “Anything is fine.” You poke his cheek, “I’m too lazy to cook, do you want takeout?” He ponders for a moment, “Takeout is fine, I can cook too.” He says, already standing up to head to the kitchen when you quickly sit up, “Takeout it is!”

“How much is it?” He grabs your hand to play with the sleeves of your sweater. “It’s fine, I already payed for it!” His hand stops, and he slowly looks at you. His brows furrow and his lips form into a pout, without saying anything, he smooshes your face in his hands. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Xavi?”

He smiles. “Don’t do that again."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[ninjashouyo]

⋆｡°✩ Star Located ⋆｡°✩

summary. You said it once, an offhand comment after listening to your music for a while. Rafayel didn’t like that now playing. Die first by Nessa Barrett

It was a comment you said after a while of soaking in the bath, your music playing in the background, and the song had triggered something in you. 

The lyrics were right, yes. You agreed, and while you dried your hair you were humming the lyrics, “I hope I die first…” Rafayel sits on your shared bed, sketchbook in hand as he waits for you to join him, and mid stroke of a sketch he pauses. 

“...What?” You miss the quiet fear in his voice, the way it trembled as he looked at you, seated on your vanity. You brush your hair, glance over to him for a second and shrug. “It’s a song. I was listening to it earlier.” 

“Oh. Oh I- thought…”

“But you know, she isn’t totally wrong.” You continue brushing through your damp hair, unable to see how Rafayel grips his pencil tighter, jaw tight as he stares at you. “The chorus? Yeah, I really don’t want to live without you, and I don’t want to know a life where I have to, y’know, learn not to have you by my side–”

“Don’t.” You pause. There’s a tremble in his voice and you turn. There’s an undeniable sea of emotions in Rafayel’s eyes, his lips in a tight frown and he looks… mad.

“What?” You blink, and he gets up from the bed. His steps are slow, but there’s an urgency in them. Hands reach for you, and he cups your face, eyes boring straight into your. “Don’t say that. Please.” His voice hitches, and you can see pain, and a glimpse of something that you knew Rafayel doesn’t want to tell you. Your voice is a whisper, “Raf?”

“Don’t ever say that again.” His hands lower, and he pulls you into an embrace, tight, as if he’s trying to convince himself that your… real. You return his embrace, leaning your head on his shoulder and he shakes. “That’s selfish of you, cutie. What about me? What happens to me if you die?” You swallow. 

“Rafa… oh, honey, I didn’t… I didn’t think you….” You tighten your hold on him. “I’m sorry, Raf. I won’t say that again.” 

“Please don’t. I don’t want to see you die before me.” Not again, nearly leaves his trembling lips, but he keeps it at bay. Your hands soothe him, running up and down his sides as you mumble apologies. “I’m sorry, Raf. I won’t say that again, promise.”

You stay like that for a long while, his head buried on your shoulder, yours on his, as you reassure him that you will not die first. Instead, you promise that you both will live long, and die side by side. 

That calms him down, but he still tightens his hold on you. 

You let him.

©ahnaiee [do not repost, copy, translate, or modify]

[ninjashouyo]

a man who yearns is a man who EARNS.

[ninjashouyo]

hey, i love you! ♡

synopsis: drunkenly telling the lads men you love them 

character/s: xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, caleb 

warning/s: drunk reader, giggly reader, a lot of ilys

note/s: i will not tolerate any “i don’t act like this while drunk” comments. i will actually block you. 

xavier: 

the hunter’s association held its yearly anniversary celebration and attendance was heavily encouraged. there was a rumor spread that if you attended the party, you would get a day of vacation. 

unfortunately for xavier, it was only a rumor. however, he couldn’t help but be amused as he watched you from the couch he sat on. 

you were tipsy, swaying slightly as you giggled at what tara said, throwing your hands in the air as if you were exaggerating a point. xavier smiles fondly at the scene as he takes a sip of his own cup of alcohol.

he’s donned the same cup for the past hour, but if his calculations were correct, it was your third cup, you drank it like water and went around the room, initiating a toast to every higher up you encountered. 

it was by your fifth glass that you stumbled in your footing, your lover immediately stands up, walking briskly to catch your intoxicated body. 

“easy there.” xavier whispers and you could feel goosebumps rise on your arm.

“oh, romeo’s here to save the damsel in distress!” tara giggles but was shushed by simone who pulled her away from the scene. 

“xavier, you’re here!” you say, a grin on your face as you tried to stand on your own two feet, his hand automatically flits to your waist, stabilizing you. 

“you okay?” you giggle at his deep voice as your head falls on his chest. “mm!” you reassure him. 

you tilt your chin up to meet his piercing blue eyes, warmth seeping on your cheeks. 

“xav?” “yeah?” 

“you look really good tonight.” you say with a drunken smile on your face, xavier couldn’t help but smile and scoff at your words. 

“you’re beautiful, always.” xavier responds as he watches you squirm in his grasp, a flustered expression on your face. 

“oh, and xavier?”

“yeah?”

“i love you.” 

xav tries to blame the alcohol for the sudden blush that appeared on his face. he tries to look away but you whine, pushing his cheek back so he can face you once more. 

“you’re drunk.” xavier mumbles. 

“‘mmm so?” you giggle, you nuzzle your head against his chest. “it doesn’t change the fact that i love you!” 

xavier fights the smile that wants to escape his lips, he places a hand at your back as he leads you outside to get some fresh air. 

as you drape yourself over the railing, you can feel xavier wrap himself around you as he leans down and whispers in your hair. 

“i love you too.”

zayne: 

the sudden doorbell interrupts zayne from his concentration. he looks over at the time, 4:13am. his brows furrowed as he takes his tablet and presses the app for his home camera. he definitely was not expecting any guests this early in the morning. 

he abruptly stands, knocking over his reports as he all but sprints towards the front door. 

from behind the door, he can hear your friends try to quiet your drunken giggles, zayne pulls the door open only to find you slumped over tara and simone, an apologetic expression on their faces. 

“we didn’t realize she drank so much…” simone starts. “we didn’t want to disturb you, dr. zayne! promise!” tara says, a bit too quickly, “but she wouldn’t tell us her address and she kept asking for you and–”

“it’s alright.” zayne cuts her off, gently taking you from their hold, effortlessly carrying you bridal style. “i’ve got it.” you perk up at the sound of his voice.

he bids the two of them goodnight as the door shuts close. 

“zaaaaayne” you drew out his name, giggling at your antics. 

“yes, my love?” zayne can’t lie. he is very amused to see you like this. 

“‘m love you.” zayne feels his heart stutter against his chest. 

“what?”

your eyes flit to a close, smile dopey as you repeat your words, quieter this time. 

“i looooove you. ‘m ‘so lucky to have you, y’know?” you were slurring your words  

zayne scoffs, a small smile on his face. 

“okay, let’s take your makeup off.” you whine at his words. “no, zayne. listeeeen.”

“i aaaam.” zayne mimics, laughing as he watches you pout. 

“what is it?” zayne asks as he places you on the sink counter, makeup remover ready in his hand as he wipes away the pigment gently. 

“please tell me?” zayne tilts your chin up so you can face him. your pout slowly disappearing. 

“i love you a lot.” you say and zayne hums as if you’ve given him new information. 

“i see.” 

“you don’t love me.” you pout, zayne sighs, an amused smile on his face as he presses a kiss on your recently wiped cheek. “i do. i love you.” “how much?” 

zayne couldn’t believe that he was giving in to your drunken antics. “very much.”

“hehe. ‘m the luckiest girl in the world. i love you, zayne!” you beam. zayne lets out a chuckle as he kisses your closed eye. when he pulls away, he realizes that you were no longer responding and tiny snores escaped your lips.

“you’re wrong.” zayne whispers as he wipes away the last of your makeup. “i’m even luckier to be loved by you.” 

rafayel: 

it was talia’s birthday, you and rafayel knew that you could never say no to his aunt as she dragged the two of you alongside her, forcing you both to socialize. 

socializing meant politely drinking with your conversation partner, and god. why did talia know so many people? by the end of the first hour, rafayel was already supporting your weight with his arm around your waist. 

“cutie, maybe we should slow down.” rafayel coos in your ear. you grumble, crinkling your nose as you shake your head. 

“eh? is our rafayel slowing down?” he flinches as he hears his aunt’s teasing voice, he rolls his eyes, shaking his head. 

“me? slowing down? puh-lease. it’s my cutie you need to worry about.” you pushed against his hold in a sloppy manner. 

“i’m fine!” you assure talia as you raise another glass. “i can drink plenty more.” talia looks at you then back at rafayel who was silently begging for her to stop you. 

but who was talia if not an instigator? 

“very well then!” talia says as she links her arm with yours. “rafayel, i heard that one of the investors is here and is interested in your works.” talia said before dragging you away. 

“i’ll keep her company, you should meet with him!” 

rafayel sighed. it was going to be a long night. 

—

the door opens to his room, talia smirking at her flushed nephew as she sighs sympathetically, a drunk you leaned against her body.. 

“it seems like you both can’t hold your liquor. what a shame.” she teases, rafayel was too drunk to answer her back with a “you were trying to kill us!” 

talia lays you down beside your lover, rafayel immediately tucks you in and talia can’t help but coo at the sight. 

“i never knew you could be romantic!” “aunt talia, get out!” talia laughs but does so nonetheless. 

when the door clicks shut, you let out a giggle. 

“what’s so funny, cutie?” rafayel asks, a slur to his voice. you shake your head but relent when rafayel didn’t stop poking your cheeks. 

“it’s just…” you slur before you perk up, placing a kiss on his chin. “i love you!” 

rafayel smiles, “i love you more.” you shake your head, “no. i love you more.”

rafayel scoffs. “well i love you more than mo–” “no! i love you most!” you say, a bright smile as if you won. you nuzzle yourself deeper into his chest as you places a tender kiss on where his bond mark was. 

“i love you so much, raf.” 

rafayel closes his eyes and pulls you closer, placing a kiss on the crown of your head as he feels your breathing even out. 

“i love you most, my beloved bride.” rafayel whispers as he joins you in your dreams. 

sylus:

when sylus invited you to an auction, you expected to see rare protocores that were of high grade or exotic animals that were illegal to auction off. though you did see just that, sylus saw the way that your eyes twinkled as the auctioneer introduced the world’s oldest wine. 

no words were shared, however, sylus clicks his tongue as he sees your fingers twitch while holding the paddle. with no hesitation, sylus raises his, offering an amount that could pay off your entire life if you thought about it, and it irked you that the amount offered barely put a dent on sylus’ bank.

the two of you were now situated in one of his suites, his vinyl player humming classical tunes as the two of you conversed under candlelights and charcuterie boards. 

for every bite of cracker, you found yourself sipping from your wine glass. it wasn’t your fault that the wine tasted like juice! it also wasn’t your fault that you were slowly becoming looser, much to sylus’ amusement. 

“are you okay, kitten?” he couldn’t help but ask, a teasing smile on his face as he wiped the sweat beading on your forehead. when did it become so hot?

“‘course i am!” you say, a little buzzed as you tapped your wine glass. “more please.”

sylus shakes his head with a chuckle. “i don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetie.” you groan, swatting his hand away and reaching for the bottle, pouring yourself another glass and downing half in one sip. 

“t’s just juice.” you say as you find yourself sliding down the very comfortable sofa, sylus only looks at you with an amused expression as he feeds you another combination from the charcuterie board on the table. 

“you need to eat up, sweetie. we don’t want your hangover to be terrible tomorrow.” 

“i’m not drunk!” you reiterate. 

“i believe you.” he doesn’t. 

sylus stands up to grab a glass of water, you take the time to appreciate his retreating back, trying to memorize every muscle that flexes as he moves. 

“kitten?” you jolt, unaware that you were zoning out. 

“huh?” 

“sit up and drink.” he says as he angles the water to your lips. you keep your eyes trained onto his as you swallow the refreshing water. 

“feel better?” 

“i love you.” 

sylus’ eyes widened before he recovers with a smirk. “oh?” 

“what brought this upon, sweetie?” you say nothing as you push him on the sofa, sylus, caught off guard, lets himself be pushed, his hands supporting your waist as you climb on top of him. 

“it seems the kitten has cla–-” “i just love you a lot.” you slur, cutting him off as you lean down to press a kiss on his cheek. “‘m love you.” a kiss to his forehead. 

“you always take care of me with no complaints.” you giggle as you cup his face using both hands. 

“i just love you, so, so much.” you finish off with a loud kiss on his lips, giggling as you hear the sound of the smack. 

sylus was frozen. he was not expecting this kind of reaction but he would be a liar to say that he didn’t like it. 

sylus looks down to see you asleep on his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around his torso. he chuckles, looking over to mephisto who was perched on the manmade tree branch, his mechanical eye blinking, recording. 

he definitely wasn’t going to let you forget this moment. 

caleb: 

the fleet was celebrating a successful voyage in the deepspace. all officers and personnel came back unscathed under the command of colonel caleb, and as much as caleb wanted to brush this off, a party was thrown in his honor. 

“not so much now, pips.” caleb coos softly in your ear as you take another flute of champagne from the waiter walking around. 

“pfft. i’m not a kid, caleb!” you say as you take a sip. “i know how to control myself.” you continue as you looked around the room. 

“you know, you don’t need to be glued to me, right?” caleb looks at you confused. “this night is thrown in your honor, go and socialize! i’ll be fine!” you say, pushing him towards his coworkers that looked like they were expecting him. 

as much as caleb didn’t want to, he respected your instruction and socialized, sharing a sip or two with his colleagues, his higher ups, and even rookie pilots who wished to talk to him. 

by the time he ensures that he has acknowledged everyone in the room, he finds you sitting on a chair, your head placed on top of your crossed arms on the table. 

caleb walks towards you in haste, poking your shoulder. you jolt, glaring at the intrusion as you turn around, only for the glare to melt away into a beam as you see caleb’s worried expression. 

“caleb!” you say, a giddy lilt in your voice. 

caleb looks over to the empty flutes surrounding you. 

“how many have you had?” 

you shrugged, joints flailing around as if you were boneless. “did’ya know that there were different flavors of that stuff? ‘wanted to try it all!” you giggle. caleb sighs as he kneels with his back facing you. 

“alright, get on.” “huh?” “you’ve had too much fun tonight, pipsqueak, it‘s time to rest.” 

you pout but followed nonetheless, your body dropping on his back as if you were magnetized. 

your arms cross against his chest, your head by his ear as you tell him what went on with his back turned. he walks away without saying goodbye to anyone at the party.

“and d’y’know? one of the officer’s wife is here because she can’t trust her husband with alcohol, said he gets embarrassing when he drinks too much.” you whisper, caleb hums, a teasing smile on his face. 

“sounds like someone i know.” “hey!” “kidding, pips. tell me more.” and so you did. 

“i have a secret.” you say, a giggle escaping your lips. caleb smirks, “oh yeah? let’s hear it.”

“i love you!” caleb feels his heartbeat quicken. “pips, you’re drunk.” he says, not paying mind to her words but the smile on his face betrays his demeanor. 

“so?” you scoff as you tighten your hold against his back. “that doesn’t mean i don’t love you.”

caleb, still smiley, decides to push it further. “oh yeah? what do you love about me?” 

he wonders if he should’ve asked that as you went onto a tirade of compliments, from his face, to his physique, to his practical and physical skills. 

“...i just.” you say, after the long list of things you loved about your colonel. “really love you a lot.” you say as you lean your head on his shoulder, breath evening out. 

caleb, with his cheeks flushed and his skin warm, couldn’t stop smiling. 

“i love you too, pips. more than you’ll ever know.” 

note/s: guess who's back :D i have another drunk mc! cooking rn (i can also do a counterpart version of the lads men doing this if yall want it) i hope you enjoyed !! ♡

[ninjashouyo]

A Clean Shave | Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

She was watchin’ him again.

Arthur could feel it—same as feelin’ the sun on his back or the breeze off the river. She thought she was bein’ sneaky, standin’ there with that damn laundry basket like she wasn’t burnin’ holes clean through him with her eyes.

He sighed low, dragging the razor slow down his jaw, careful and steady. No hurry. Couldn’t be, not with a blade this sharp near his throat. And not with her there—lookin’ at him like that.

Christ. She had no business lookin’ at him like that.

Too young. Too soft. Too full of foolish dreams and trouble he wasn’t about to reach for.

But God, if he didn’t notice every time she hovered near. Or sat by the fire just to be close. Or glanced sideways at him when she thought he wasn’t payin’ attention.

He was always payin’ attention.

The razor scraped clean, smooth down his cheek. He dipped it in the basin, shaking off the soap.

"Enjoyin’ the show there, little miss?" he drawled without lookin’, eyes flickin’ sideways to catch the way she stiffened—caught good and proper.

Her mouth opened, stammering something about restin’ her arms. Poor damn excuse. Cute, though. Sweet. Made his chest twist the way it hadn’t in years.

He kept on shaving, hiding the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Gotta be careful starin’ at a man while he’s holdin’ somethin’ sharp, y’know."

"I ain’t scared of you," she shot back, brave as ever.

Brave. Foolish. Beautiful.

Arthur rinsed the blade again, watched the sun catch in her hair as she shifted her weight—feet nervous, but eyes bold.

"You're too young for me anyway. Oughta keep your pretty eyes on somethin’ else."

He meant it. Mostly. But it sounded weaker every time he said it. Like maybe he was tryin’ to remind himself more than her.

And then she said it. Soft, like it didn’t matter. Like she wasn’t wreckin’ him without even tryin’:

"I don’t care how old you are. Ain’t my fault you look like that."

Arthur nearly cut himself.

Christ.

His throat worked slow. Careful. The razor dragging clean along the curve, but his hand wasn’t as steady anymore. Not when she said things like that. Not when she meant it.

"Careful, girl," he muttered rough, the words low like warning and wish all at once. "You keep lookin’ at me like that and you’ll get ideas you got no business havin’."

I’ll get ideas I got no business havin’.

But she only smiled—damn trouble in that smile—and backed away slow, hips swinging like she knew exactly what she was doing. Like she wanted him lookin’.

"Guess I’ll have to get real good at hidin’ ‘em, then."

Arthur watched her go. And for the life of him, he wanted her to stay. But he didn’t call her back. Didn’t trust himself to. Not yet.

[ninjashouyo]

「Echoes in the Sky」 Caleb

       ↳ In which in the high stakes world of Top Gun, every call, every flight, and every silence between pilots leaves echoes that shape who they become- and what they’re willing to risk. (7.5k)

The bar was loud, hot, and alive.

The old speakers buzzed with classic rock, the kind that made the walls vibrate. Pilots were shouting over the pool games, laughter echoing off the metal beams, boots thudding against worn floors. The smell of sweat, jet fuel, and spilled whiskey hung thick in the air. Familiar, almost comforting.

You stepped through the door and took it in with one look. Just a quick efficient scan. No nerves. No effort. You weren't here to be seen. You were here to observe. To chill.

A few pilots looked up when you passed, but you didn't stop. Did not speak. Just walked in boots, black jeans, and a gray shirt that looked too simple, comfortable. You moved with purpose, quiet and solid. Trying not to stand out. In the first place, you didn’t need to.

Caleb saw you the moment you entered. He was leaning against the bar, one leg hooked on the stool, a beer bottle loose in his hand. Bomber jacket resting over his shoulders, sunglasses tucked into his messy hair. Relaxed. Confident. Watching. He noticed everything about you. The way you moved, the way you didn't make eye contact, the way you chose a stool two seats down and ordered without hesitation. And the way you didn't look at him once.

That alone made you interesting. So he waited, he waited a few seconds before leaning your way just enough to make sure you heard him over the music. "Careful." He said. "You sit too close to pilots in a place like this, you're bound to get hit with a story about Mach speed and heartbreak." You didn't look right at him. Just angled your head slightly, eyebrow raised. "Do they usually come with a warning?" There wasn't much in your voice. Calm. Dry. Like you'd heard this before.

Caleb's smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Only the dangerous ones." He offered a hand. "Caleb." You didn't take it. "Is that your first name or your call sign?" "Both." He said, lowering his hand without missing a beat. "Figured I'd lead with charm before we start measuring altitude." That earned him a glance. A real one, direct and flat. "You assume a lot for someone who hasn't asked what I do"

He tilted his head, studying you. "Off duty, maybe. Civilian? You don't move like enlisted. Too steady." There was a pause. Then your voice, calm as ever "If I were a pilot... You wouldn't see my tail except when I was lapping you." That surprised him. Not enough to throw him off but enough to change the look in his eyes. Less amused and more interested. "You've flown before." He said. You took a sip of your drink. "I've seen the inside of a jet." You let that hang there.

The jukebox switched tracks, it's Van Halen now, louder, harder. Caleb chuckled softly rubbing the back of his neck. "You're not gonna give me a straight answer, are you?" "I don't need to." You said. "People show more when they talk long enough." You turned to face him fully then. "Like how you lead with charm, tuck your ego behind a joke, and wait to see how far you can push before someone calls you on it."

His smile faded just a little. He looked at you differently now. Less like someone he wanted to flirt with. More like someone he needed to figure out. "Alright." He said, voice lower now. "You've got my attention." You lifted your glass. "Good." You said. "Now earn mine."

And just like that, the rules shifted.

🍎

The briefing room was already half full when you walked in. Chairs scraped on the tile floor. Low voices murmured over the hum of stale coffee and distant jet fuel. The kind of room that knew pressure even when it was quiet. You didn't look around for long. Just enough to find your seat. Just enough to know the faces. 

Caleb was near the back, sprawled like the chair belonged to him. Arms crossed, aviators low on his nose. His grin was the kind that said he had won before anything even started. He spotted you right away. You in your uniform, walking like it weighed nothing, steady and sharp. You didn't smile. You didn't need to. That was the difference.

You sat down beside him. Not to challenge him, just because it was a seat. But you met his eyes. His grin grew wider. "Well, if it isn't the mystery pilot." His voice low and smooth. "Didn't peg you for a Top Gun type." You did not blink. "Funny." You said. "I was just about to say the same. Thought you only flew loops around your own ego."

Someone a few rows down tried not to laugh. Caleb raised an eyebrow, amused. "Keep that up." He said, leaning in a little. "And I might let you buy me a drink after I crush you in the sim." Your mouth curved just a little. "I don't buy drinks for guys who crash before takeoff." 

Then the tension between you sparked, tight and electric. Not anger. Not yet. Just something sharp.

Caleb's voice dropped, rougher now. "You're all talk. Bet you can't even handle a six-G turn without whining." You held his gaze. "Better to whine than black out trying to show off." For a second, he didn't say anything. His jaw clenched like he was chewing on something unsaid. Just then something in his eyes shifted, not anger. Not even pride. Just... Recognition. A dare.

Before either the two of you could say more, the instructor's voice cut through the room, sharp and clear. The chatter died down. But you didn't dare look away from Caleb. And he didn't stop watching you either.

He had expected himself to be the biggest presence in the room. But now? He knew he wasn't the only one who could bite.

🍎

The hallway outside the sim room still carried the scent of heat and friction, burnt circuits, adrenaline, sweat.

You had just finished your flight drill. Clean, tight, sharp. But then, of course, he was already waiting. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, clipboard in hand. Flight suit half unzipped, dog tags with an apple pendant resting against his chest. Hair damp. Smirk in place.

"You call that a break turn?" He said not even looking up. "Almost looked like you were stopping for a coffee." You stopped mid step then turned your head. "Funny." You pause. "I thought I saw you black out on that last G-pull." He pushed off the wall slowly, mock offense in his voice. "That's called finesse. Something you clearly haven't met yet. You fly like you’re trying to break the damn plane." "At least I don't fly like I'm posing for a photoshoot."

That landed.

He stepped in closer now, grin slipping into something sharper. "You talk like you've already won." You raised a brow. "And you talk like you're used to being the only one in the room who knows how." The door to the sim banged open behind you. Loud and sudden but neither of you moved. Caleb's voice dropped. "This isn't a solo run. You fly like that long enough, someone's gonna eat your tail." 

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile. "Maybe I'd trust my wing if he flew like he was part of a team instead of chasing a mirror." That stopped him. Just a second, just enough. The next room echoed with the instructor’s voice. A call for order. You both stepped apart, a breath of space. But not real distance.

As you walked away, you heard him mutter. Not quite under his breath. "God help whoever ends up flying with you." You didn't stop. You just tossed it over your shoulder, calm as ever. "Right back at you, pretty boy."

🍎

The classroom buzzed with low voices, the scratch of pens, boots dragging across tile. The instructor stood at the front, quiet but commanding, like a storm waiting to break.

Caleb sat in his seat, arms crossed, his trademark smirk already in place. You were two rows ahead. Calm and focused. Hands folded on the desk like you didn't have anything to prove.

Then the room fell quiet. The instructor cleared his throat. "Pairings for flight exercises. You'll fly in teams of two." He paused. "Caleb Xia call name Caleb... (Your name) call name Echo."

The silence stretched. Caleb blinked once. Then leaned forward, voice just loud enough to be heard. "You've got to be kidding me." You didn't turn around. "Believe me." You said flatly. "The feeling's mutual." The instructor did not even flinch. "You'll be in the air by sunrise." There was a pause. "Figure it out."

Caleb shook his head, half frustrated, half amused. Then, with a glance your way. "Fine. But don't expect me to go easy." You didn't hesitate. "I wouldn't dream of it."

The whole room felt it, the heat between you two. Like something about to ignite. But no one dared say a word. But they knew that the stakes had just doubled.

🍎

Dawn burned low across the runway, painting steel shadows across the asphalt. Engines roared to life. Your fingers adjusted the helmet strap without thinking, your breath steady in your chest. Everything that mattered would happen in the sky.

Beside you, Caleb's jet purred. He sat ready, no more joking, no more smirks. Just focus. The rules were simple. Fly smart. Watch your six. Don't screw it up. And somehow, that meant trusting the one person you'd rather eject at 10,000 feet.

His voice crackled through comms, casual, but pointed. "Try not to fall behind, Echo." You kept your tone clam and even. "Only if you promise not to fly like you're in a parade."

Then it started. Caleb rolled left, hard and fast and you were right behind him. No delay. No panic. Just instinct. You moved like you'd flown together before. In which you hadn't. Not really. The flight was tight. Rough. Fast. But clean. You pushed him. He pulled you. And somehow, it worked.

"You're sharper than you look." Caleb muttered, surprise evident in his voice. You smirked under the mask. "And you're not half as reckless as I thought." For a split second, you both laughed, static but real, before cutting into another turn.

Missile drills. Split formations. Shadowing each other through high speed maneuvers. It didn't make sense, not really, how fast it came together but there it was, the rhythm, the trust, something that looked an awful lot like teamwork.

You didn't trust it. But it was happening anyway.

When you landed, the sky was full of heat shimmer and the heavy hum of engines winding down. You climbed out, peeling off your helmet, chest still tight with the focus of the last hour.

Caleb stepped out beside you. His usual grin was there — but quieter now. "Not bad, Echo." he said placing his helmet under one arm. "Maybe we've actually got a shot." You did not look at him. "Don't get cocky." But part of you, the part that was still wound tight from the flight, almost agreed.

This wasn't over. And whether you liked it or not. You and Caleb were flying the same sky now.

🍎

"Alright, Team Two, you’re live in five… four… three…" The comms crackled, and the countdown began. You steadied your breath, eyes scanning the wide blue stretch ahead. Clear skies. Perfect visibility. 

Just then two bogeys popped up on radar, fast, coming in from the southeast. "Visual on bandits. Two o'clock low." Your voice was calm and controlled. "Copy." Caleb replied, sharper than usual. No swagger this time, just focus. "Let's tighten up. Don't go cowboy on me." "I don't go cowboy." You said. "That's your brand." He chuckled, soft, unexpected and for a moment, it caught you off guard.

The bogeys split. You peeled left. Caleb broke right. From the outside, it looked chaotic. But then came perfect synchronicity. You drew fire low. Caleb swept in from above, fast and clean. A blur behind your six, locking onto the enemy who'd locked onto you. "Fox Two." Caleb called. Missile lock. Splash one. Smoke trailed off the first target. Just then the second cut back hard, angling for him.

"Caleb, six o'clock. Coming in fast." "I see it. Pulling vertical. Push him your way." "On it." You climbed, looped around and dropped straight into the jet's blind spot. Lock then fired. "Fox Two. Kill confirmed." Silence hit the comms. For a minute, maybe two. Then Caleb's voice low and stripped down. "Damn. That was tight. Didn't think you'd cover me that clean." Your pulse was still pounding but your voice stayed even. "You're not a bad flyer, Caleb." You pause. "When you shut up and fly." You added.

Then he laughed. Not his usual signature grin. This was different. Full. Caught off guard. Then almost as if it slipped out. "You're good." You blinked. Letting the silence sit. "Say that again?" You teased. "You're breaking up." "Shut up." He muttered but there was no bite in it. Just the sound of someone a little surprised he meant what he said.

Just then the simulation faded to blue. Match over. Back on solid ground, you stepped out of your jet first. Caleb followed a moment later. Neither of you said anything at first. But the air had shifted. You weren't flying against him anymore. You were flying with him. Caleb glanced your way, brushing his flight gloves against his thigh.

"Next time, we take them faster." You smirked tugging off your helmet. "Next time, don't fall behind... Apple." He paused. Turned halfway toward you. "What did you just call me?" You didn't answer, just gave him a look. That little grin that said deal with it. He shook his head, lips twitching. "Unreal." But he didn't argue. He didn't correct you.

Just fell in a step beside you as you headed back inside. And for the first time, the silence wasn't heavy. It just felt right.

🍎

The base was quiet now. Most of the others were long gone. Crashed in the barracks or chasing cheap drinks and louder laughs in town. Overhead, the lights buzzed with that old electric hum. Casting a soft gold on metal and shadow. The hangar smelled like jet fuel, always did. Like it had soaked into the bones of the place.

You stood by your bird, hand resting on the cool metal of her side. The sim had ended hours ago, but your body hadn't let go of it yet. Not nerves. Just a weight in your chest. Too much silence after too much sky. Behind you, a footsteps could be heard. Steady and familiar. Caleb. His flight suit hung open halfway, dog tag with that little apple catching the light as he walked. His hair was still damp. No smirk this time. Just that look. Quieter, like something still turning in him.

"You always work on your jet after midnight?" His voice low. You didn't look at him. Just ran your thumb along a scratch near the cockpit. "Only when I'm trying to think." A pause. "That explains a lot." You turned a little, caught him over your shoulder. "Are you trying to be charming? Or just bad at small talk?" He barely smile. "Neither, just couldn't sleep. Head's still up there." You nodded. You got it. The silence that followed wasn't heavy. It made sense.

Just then a soft. "You were good today." Came and you looked at him. "So were you." He leaned against the jet, arms crossed, eyes drifting to the ceiling like it answers. "You always fly like that?" He asked. "I fly to win." You said. "And to come home." You added and Caleb gave a short laugh. "Still can't tell if that makes you better than me or just smarter." You studied him. "You fly like the sky owes you something."

That landed. You saw it in the way his jaw set. Not angry. Just real. "Maybe it does." He said. "Or maybe I just don't like being told I can't." Something in his voice shifted. Not pride, history. You didn't push, but you asked quietly. "You lose someone up there?" He didn't answer right away. "Yeah." He said finally. "Years ago." You nodded. "Same."

This time, he looked at you, like really looked. No challenge. No wall. Just understanding.

He tapped the fuselage. "She holding up?" "She's fine. Needed a fuse. You'd know if you weren't busy trying to barrel roll through half the sim." He smirked, faint but real. "Gonna hold that over me forever?" "Absolutely." For a minute, neither of you said anything. Just stood there, the jet between you, the hangar humming around you. And whatever it was between the two og you now wasn’t rivalry anymore. Not just that.

Caleb pushed off the wing then starts to walk. Paused in the doorway, where the dark met the light. "Hey." He said. Not loud. not casual. "You think we might actually make a good team?" You tilted your head. Considering him. "Depends." You said. "You gonna stop trying to race me every takeoff?" He grinned, tired and honest. "I'll try. No promises." A small smile tugged at your mouth. You let it stay. "Then yeah. Maybe." He nodded once then disappeared into the dark.

You turned back to your bird. The sky beyond the doors was still there, wide and quiet. and for the first time, flying with someone didn't feel like giving something up. It felt like something opening.

🍎

The sun was brutal. The kind that baked sand into your boots and sweat into your skin. It was supposed to be a 'rest day' but aviators weren't made for quiet. So someone, probably Falcon or Ghost, suggested a football then proceeds to ditched their shirts, and declared it was time to 'Figure out who’s best.'

You hadn't meant to join in. But then Caleb smirked, tossing you a look and said. "Unless you're scared of losing outside the cockpit too." So here you are. Tank top already sticking to your back. Boots kicked off somewhere in the sand and a half-circle of pilots provoking you on as the game spiraled into shirtless dives and unnecessary onehanded catches.

Caleb was quarterbacking for the opposing team, sunglasses crooked, grinning like a menace. You lined up across from him, eyes narrowed. "Bet you throw like you fly." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Fast, smooth, and impossible to predict?" "More like dramatic and full of unnecessary rolls." 

That got a few laughs from the sidelines, especially from Blaze, who called out. "If I have to hear one more slow burn insult from these two, I'm gonna start charging popcorn tax." Falcon, sitting by the cooler, added. "Seriously, just kiss already or kill each other. It's exhausting." “I vote kill." You said flatly. Caleb grinned. "I'm flattered. That means you’ve thought about both." 

Someone whooped. The game started up again.

Mid play, it got messy.

You broke free from the sideline, sprinting for a long toss. Caleb saw it. Threw anyway, a high arc, perfect spiral. But just before the ball dropped into your hands, he was there. Chest to chest, body colliding with yours in the sand as the two of you tumbled hard, laughing, cursing, limbs tangled. The ball rolled off somewhere forgotten.

You both stayed there a second too long, chests heaving, Caleb propped on an elbow beside you, a lazy smirk tugging at his mouth. "You alright?" he asked genuinely. "Yeah." You said. "Shame I landed on a soft target." He raised a brow. "You sure? Cause your heart's racing pretty fast." "You’re not that charming, Caleb." "Yet."

Then the crowd erupted in loud cheers and laughter.

"Okay! that's it!" Ghost yelled from across the sand. "Official ruling. You two are on the same team next round. Maybe then we won't have to suffer through your dance mid play." You rolled your eyes. Caleb offered you a hand, pulling you up, maybe with a little more tug than necessary.

As you dusted off the sand, Warlock called from the shade with a grin. "Funny how the two biggest lone wolves are suddenly flying in formation." "Guess it's easier when your wing doesn't suck." Caleb shot back. You gave him a sidelong glance. "Don't start acting like we're synced just because we didn't crash into each other for once." He leaned closer, voice low enough for just you. "Let them talk. They're not wrong."

You didn't smile. Not really. But your silence said more than it used to.

New teams were formed. You and Caleb stood shoulder to shoulder now, lined up against your previous teammates. Ghost tossed the ball into your hands this time. "You ready?" Caleb asked, brushing sand off his palms. You looked at him. This time without the armor, without the sharpness. "Let's show them why they're nervous." He smirked. "Thought you'd never say it."

The game resumed but the tension between you wasn't the kind that fractured anymore. It had flipped. Now it pulsed under the surface, understood, not denied. And for once, the others were right. You didn't just look like a team. You felt like one.

🍎

The room was colder than usual. All metal and low light, filled with the kind of silence that meant bad news was coming.

The mission dropped just after midnight. Real world. No training wheels. Something about breached airspace, tight timing, and high risk. You both assumed you'd be flying it together. That's how it had been since day one. A pair. A team. But then the orders changed. Caleb's eyes scanned the mission board, confusion tightening his jaw. The map was split, two routes, two aircraft.

"They're splitting us up?" His voice cracked slightly, not from fear, just in disbelief. "You're running solo in the northeast sector. I'm headed southwest?" The commanding officer didn't flinch. "Payload and altitude limits are too tight. Two pilots per jet isn't possible. You both go alone." Caleb took a step back, fists clenched. "That's not how we've trained. Every operation, every simulation, we've flown as a unit."

"They're assigned where they fit the best." The Commanding Officer said plainly. "And so are you." You didn't argue. You did not flinch. Just stood still and nodded. Caleb turned toward you. His voice dropped, rougher now. "You're just okay with this?" You finally looked at him. "It's the mission. I'll fly it." His brows furrowed deeper. "You don't think this is a mistake?"

Your answer came in steady. "We're pilots. We go where we're told. And if I'm solo, I fly solo." He stared at you like he wanted to say more. To fight it, but he couldn't find a crack in you. "This isn't about pride." You added quietly. "It's about getting the job done. That's all it's ever been."

Caleb ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't angry, not really. Just uneasy. "I should be out there with you." He said under his breath. You gave a small nod. "Yeah. You should." Silence hung between you. Heavy. Unspoken things thick in the air. Then a softer, almost careful, he asked. "You good?" Your voice was low but firm. "Little nervous. But yeah. I’m good." Something shifted in his expression. Not defeat, not quite. Just understanding. 

That whatever this was between you, it had crossed a line. Something deeper now. Real. He looked at you, straight on. "Come back." You nodded, gaze steady. "I plan to."

🍎

You sat on the wing of your jet, boots dangling just above the hangar floor. A half finished thermos of coffee warmed your hands more than the drink itself. The hangar was quiet and still. Just the soft hum of overhead lights and the occasional creak of metal settling in the night. Outside, it was all stars and silence.

Caleb was next to you, leaned back on his palms, staring up like the ceiling might disappear if he focused hard enough. His flight suit hung loose around his waist, white t-shirt, dog tag with a tittle apple in it catching the light every now and then. No grin. No swagger. Just stillness.

"I used to think flying would fix everything." He said, barely above a whisper. You didn't say anything. Just waited. "Not for me exactly." He went on. "I mean, yeah. I love it. Still do. But when I started... it wasn't about the sky." He let out a slow breath. "It was the money." You turned your head, to be honest, you can relate. Nevertheless you were quite surprised, not by the confession, but by how quietly he said it.

"My grandma raised us." Caleb continued. "After we're lost, it was just me and MC. She was ten. I was angry all the time. And broke. And eighteen.” His fingers tapped against the wing, restless. "The recruiter said I had the scores for flight school. Pilots paid more than retail. Said I could set myself up, help my sister out. I told myself I'd do five years, then leave. Get her through college. Maybe get Gran a house that didn't leak."

He gave a small laugh, short, but not bitter. "Then I stayed. Turns out, I was good at it. And up there... it's the only place I don't feel like I'm failing someone." The quiet that followed wasn't heavy. You nodded. "You ever tell them that?" "Gran knew." He said. "She used to say I was born looking up. I didn't believe her. Not really. Not until lately."

You leaned back too, shoulder brushing against his just slightly. A simple reminder, I'm here. "We'll come back." You said. Calm and certain. He turned to you. You didn't flinch. "You've still got more to do." You added. "So do I." He didn't smile, not exactly but something shifted. His expression softened. "I used to think the sky didn't belong to anyone." He murmured. "Now I think maybe it does." You nudged him gently. "Ours now."

Neither of you spoke after that. Just two pilots, sitting in the still of the night. No noise. No rank. No pressure. Just stars overhead and whatever waited past them.

🍎

The tarmac stretched wide beneath the pale morning sky, quiet but for the distant hum of crew prepping birds down the line. Here, it was just you and Caleb. Two Hornets waiting in the cold. Two pilots standing still.

You stood beneath your jet, breath fogging in the crisp air. Gloves on, gear tight, helmet resting against your hip. The mission brief had ended almost an hour ago, but neither of you had climbed the ladder. Caleb was beside you, silent, steady. Not joking, not strutting. Just there. His collar was unzipped slightly. His helmet dangled from one hand, the other shoved deep into a flight suit pocket. He didn't fix it. Maybe he didn't care. Or maybe he was feeling the same thing you were.

This wasn't just another flight. Takeoff was together, yeah. But then, a break. Two jets, two solo missions. Different headings. Different risks.

You didn't speak at first. Didn't need to. "I don't like it." Caleb muttered. "Flying solo. You flying solo." You let out a quiet breath, almost a laugh. "Funny. I was about to say the same thing about you." He looked at you then. Like really looked at you. The kind of look that lingered too long to be casual, not charged, not teasing. Just real. "I know we'll pull it off." you said. "They don't assign us stuff like this unless they know we can handle it." "Yeah." He replied but softer now. "But we've always handled it together." 

You turned to him fully. His brow wasn't furrowed from ego. It was worry. Honest, unguarded worry. And that did something strange in your chest. A twist, sudden and sharp. You hadn't expected that. You had always known Caleb was good in the air. Good under pressure. Competitive, yes, cocky, sometimes, but solid. Dependable.

But now, standing here in the space before takeoff, you saw something else. Something quieter. The way he always checked your six without being asked. The way he held back just a hair on every joint maneuver not because he thought you'd mess up, but because he always made room.

And you realized. This mattered to him. You mattered to him. And just like that, something shifted. You liked this guy. Not just as a wingman. Not just as a teammate who could pull Gs and match your pace. You liked him. In a way that had nothing to do with the cockpit. And maybe, just maybe, you didn't want to fly without him anymore.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence. "We'll both come back. You know that, right?" He nodded but didn't look away. "I want to." He said. Another beat passed. Quiet, full. You turned toward your ladder but paused, glancing back. Your voice dropped low, not a joke now, but something closer to a promise. "You've got my six until we break?" His reply didn't come fast but when it did, it landed hard. "Always."

You held his gaze for a second longer than you should've. Then climbed. So did he. Two jets powered up. Systems online. Tower cleared you for tandem departure. Side by side, you taxied out. Smooth, controlled, like you'd done it a hundred times. But the air felt different. Like something unspoken was now understood, if not yet said aloud.

Throttle engaged. Engines screamed to life. And then you launched, together. Twin streaks of metal and fire into a cold morning sky. You climbed in sync, wings nearly brushing, altitude building fast. It was almost easy to pretend nothing was changing.

But then the waypoint hit. Time to split. He peeled left. You banked right. Solo from here on out. Before he disappeared into the clouds, his jet tipped, a slight roll of the wings. Just for you. You did the same. No words. No need. Because now you knew.

You weren't just flying for the mission anymore. You were flying to come back to him.

🍎

The tarmac was quiet in that way it only gets before a launch, not peaceful, but held. Tense. Like the air itself was bracing. 

Caleb stood beside his jet, helmet in one hand, the other buried deep in his pocket. He wasn’t pacing. Wasn't smirking. Just still. You stood a few feet away, staring up at your bird like it was already halfway to the clouds. Calm. Focused. Locked in. You always looked like that before a mission. Like you were already gone, mentally flying the route before the wheels even left the ground. He'd always admired that about you, how nothing ever seemed to shake you.

But this time? It wasn't the same. This wasn't a joint op. Not really. Same launch window, same runway, but the second you were airborne, you were splitting. Two different missions. Two different risks. No one watching the other's six. He hated that.

"I don't like it." he said finally, voice lower than he meant it to be. "Being split up like this. You flying solo." You gave a quiet exhale, a half laugh. "Funny. I was about to say the same thing about you." He looked at you. Really looked. You weren’t smirking either. No teasing. No competition in your eyes. Just something steady. Measured. Something felt.

That's when it hit him. It wasn't about the operation. Not really. It was about you. He wasn't worried about the mission. He was worried about you. And when the hell had that started?

He thought back. The first sim you smoked him in, the way you always caught his blind spots without a word. That one late night maintenance delay, when you sat next to him on the wing and listened, actually listened, while he talked about his sister. The way you didn't say much then, just sat there with him, boots swinging off the edge like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He hadn't realized it at the time. But somewhere in all that, the long hours, the shit talk, the trust, something shifted. You weren't just the best pilot he knew. You were the only one he trusted with the parts of himself he didn't show anyone else. And now? Standing beside your jet with a sky full of danger ahead? He didn't want to let you out of his sight.

He swallowed hard. "We've done harder runs." He said, though it felt more like convincing himself. "Yeah." He said. "But we've always done them together." That word hit different now. Together. He didn't answer right away. Didn't trust his voice to hold. Because the truth was...

He didn't want you to just come back safe. He wanted you to come back to him. And he wasn't sure what the hell that meant yet, but he knew it wasn't just about the mission anymore. You turned toward your ladder, then paused. Looked back. "You've got my six until we break?" You said it so soft. So serious. Like you knew how much that meant. He met your eyes, steady. "Always." And god, he meant it.

Because in that moment, he wasn't your rival. He wasn't even your teammate. He was yours. In a way he hadn't figured out how to say out loud yet.

You climbed. So did he. Twin engines lit up, turbine whine slicing through the early light. The tower cleared you both, and the Hornets rolled side by side, a perfectly matched pair, as always. Throttle open. Speed building. And then sky. Takeoff was clean. Fast. Seamless. He flew right off your wing, like he'd done a hundred times. But this time, he watched you more closely. Matched your altitude, your pitch. Every move deliberate.

He wasn't flying with you this time. He was flying for you. And when the split point pinged on radar, he hesitated just a beat. Then banked left. You peeled off right. One last glance, two jets tipping wings to each other like a silent promise. No comms. No goodbyes. Just that one look.

And for the first time, Caleb understood exactly what had changed. He didn't just want you to come back alive. He wanted you to come back to him.

🍎

The encrypted channel cracked faintly in your ear before it opened.

"Hey, Apple." You said, voice casual. "You dead yet?" A beat of static, then Caleb's voice came through, dry and familiar. "Oh, thank god. For a second I thought I'd have to finish this mission without your charming commentary." "You'd crash halfway through just out of loneliness." "Please. I'd crash from boredom. You're the only pilot who makes evasive maneuvers sound like a TED Talk." "I'll take that as a compliment." "Don't. I've heard more emotion from the autopilot."

You scoffed, eyes flicking to your altitude. "Apple, blink twice if you're flying with a bruised ego." "I'd blink." He said. "But I'm busy not dying. You try pulling seven Gs and sass at the same time." "I do it better than you." "You wish. I make seven Gs look sexy." "You make seven Gs look like a toddler yanking the stick during a sugar crash."

A sputter of static came through, followed by his reluctant laugh. "I hate that I laughed at that." "You're welcome." A brief pause followed as you broke formation, each of you angling off toward your separate routes. The silence that followed was brief but settled differently. "You good?" Caleb asked after a moment, more serious now. "Peachy. You?" "Minor lock on earlier. Lost them. I'm fine."

"Operator error, or are you just that popular?" "Definitely the latter. Can't keep the fans off me." "I'll alert your fan club that you're still in one piece." "Just make sure they know my wing’s a pain in the ass." "That's Captain Pain in the Ass to you." "Aye, cap." You grinned, even though he couldn't see it. "Try not to get blown up before I can beat your score." "Not a chance. I plan on surviving just to rub it in later."

"Good. I'd hate to tell your sister you got smoked trying to show off." "Touché." He muttered. Then, more softly. "See you on the other side of this sky." "You better."

The line cut to silence, leaving nothing but the thrum of the engine and the stretch of open sky ahead.

🍎

The roar of engines had long faded, replaced now by the low murmur of the hangar, boots against concrete, the muted clink of tools, and the distant hiss of hydraulics. Inside the debrief room, Caleb sat still, stripping off his gear in methodical, mechanical motions. Each buckle unfastened without thought. Each strap loosened without feeling. His eyes flicked to the wall clock, then drifted toward the empty seat beside him.

Yours. The space where you should have been.

He cleared his throat, voice gruff with exhaustion. "Where's Echo?" The officer behind the table barely looked up. Papers shifted in his hands, a shuffle to stall. "We're still compiling post-flight reports, sir." Caleb's brows drew together. "I'm not asking about reports." His voice sharpened. "I'm asking about Echo. They're not in the hangar. Did they check in?"

The officer hesitated. "Not yet, sir. Could be a delay. You know how it is after a run. Gear check. Debrief. Some pilots head straight to med for-" "Have you called them?" The room shifted uneasily. "Radio was clear until mission end. After that... no response."

That flicker of unease in Caleb's chest turned to something colder. His jaw clenched as he rubbed a hand down his face. "What about radar? Tracking data? Where was their last ping?" The officer didn't meet his eyes. "Still analyzing. There's some interference. Terrain in sector Delta can mess with signal return. We're trying to get a visual." "Interference?" Caleb echoed the word tasting bitter in his mouth. "That doesn't sound good."

Another beat of silence. Then, quietly, "We've dispatched a recovery team. But it's rough terrain. Comms blackouts are common. We're doing everything we can." A pause. Then something darker in his voice. "Why am I the last to know?" No one answered. Caleb stood so abruptly that his chair scraped hard against the tile. The room felt too small now, too quiet, the air too thin.

He stormed out and made for the comms hub, intercepting a tech hunched over a glowing console. "Any sign of Echo?" His voice was tight, barely restrained. The tech glanced up, nervous. "Radar picked up a fast descent in sector Delta. No confirmed ID on the aircraft." His heart stuttered. "A fast descent?" Caleb repeated. "Could be debris." the tech offered quickly. "Could be... something else." 

"What kind of something else?" A breath. "Could be a crash." The word hit him like a punch in the gut. "No." Caleb's voice broke. "No, they can't be down." His hand trembled as he ran it through his hair. Panic crawled up his spine, cold and fast and mean. He backed away from the consoles, found the nearest wall and pressed his back against it like it could hold him upright. His hand fumbled for his comms.

He lifted the receiver. Voice low. Barely steady. "Echo, this is Caleb. You're clear, right? Come on. Talk to me." Only static. The silence stretched, louder than anything. He could still hear your voice from before. Calm. Precise. That sharp edge of wit even when the sky was burning. You'd covered him. You always did. And now the space beside him felt enormous. Empty.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. The mission was routine. The sky had belonged to both of you. But now? Now, all Caleb could feel was the weight of the silence. Crushing and absolute, where your voice should have been. 

And he wasn’t ready to lose you. Not like this. Not at all.

🍎

The airfield wasn't silent not in the traditional sense. There was always something. The low rumble of idling engines. A distant clatter from the hangars. Footsteps crunching gravel. But this, this was different. It was the kind of stillness that settled in the lungs. Heavy. Stubborn. Like grief not yet spoken aloud. Like something left undone.

Caleb stood alone at the far end of the runway, flight suit half-zipped, helmet tucked against his side. He hadn't changed. Hadn't moved. Not since the debrief. The sun was slipping behind the horizon now, painting the sky in bruised streaks of gold and indigo. Shadows stretched long across the tarmac. But he didn't notice. Because you hadn't come back.

The official word had come barely an hour earlier. Clean. Surgical. The way it always was. "Pilot (Your name) call name Echo. Last seen in sector Delta-Nine. No recovery. Declared MIA. Presumed lost." Four lines. That was all they gave him. No wreckage, not yet, yet to be found. No beacon. Just a final comms transmission, then static. A blip on the radar that vanished too fast, too quiet, like someone had turned off the sky. 

And maybe that's what made it worse. Not knowing. The silence of it. The way a person could just stop being, and the world moved on like it was protocol. Caleb had always filled the silence. That was his thing. Jokes. Sass. Bravado thick enough to drown worry. But now? Now there was only wind pushing at the hangar doors. The tired whine of a jet somewhere being powered down. And inside him, a kind of quiet that didn't feel survivable.

He didn't cry. Not the way people expected. But something broke anyway. Quietly. A small fracture beneath the ribs. Like pressure building in a sealed cockpit. Like a plane coming apart midair. Because he hadn't noticed it when it happened. When rivalry softened into rhythm. When sharp words gave way to shared glances. When you became more than Echo, more than a callsign. More than his wing.

And now the sky. the one place he had always trusted, always felt like his. Felt too damn wide. Too empty. He looked up. Out of instinct, maybe. Or something closer to hope. But there was nothing. Just the slow bleed of twilight. Just clouds that didn’t know they were missing anyone.

And yet, somehow, it still felt like you were up there. Not gone. Not exactly. Just moved. Like your voice. Sharp, steady and always half a breath ahead of his. Always threading somewhere through the air above. 

He sat down on the edge of the tarmac, legs bent, hands resting heavy on his knees. The helmet rolled slightly beside him, catching a sliver of fading light off the call tag still painted near the chin. 

He stared at it for a long time. Like if he looked hard enough, he could will you back into existence. And then, when the sun finally slipped beneath the world, he said it. Soft. Barely more than a breath. "Come on, Echo... you're late." There was no answer. No voice crackling back through the comms. No sharp retort.

Just the wind shifting, warm and fleeting, brushing past his shoulder. He closed his eyes. It felt like something. Not quite real. But not nothing.

Maybe you were still out there. Somewhere above. Maybe you always would be. Because in the sky, nothing truly vanished. Not completely.

Some things moved fast enough to become legend. And some just fast enough to become an echo.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

[ninjashouyo]

「Echoes in the Sky」

⤷ Top Gun inspired fic.

🅵🅴🅰🆃🆄🆁🅸🅽🅶

‣ Caleb x Reader

🅶🅴🅽🆁🅴

‣ Slow burn

‣ Action-Romance

‣ Angst

‣ Second Chance

🆂🅴🆁🅸🅴🆂

‣ Love and Deepspace: The Cosmic Chronicles

🆃🅰🅱🅻🅴 🅾🅵 🅲🅾🅽🆃🅴🅽🆃🆂

- Chapter One (7.5k words)

       ↳ In which in the high stakes world of Top Gun, every call, every flight, and every silence between pilots leaves echoes that shape who they become- and what they’re willing to risk.

- Chapter Two (10.5k words)

       ↳ A grounded pilot with no memory of the past is drawn back to the sky, to the people who never stopped waiting for them. In the quiet of a small pub and the open sky above, fragments return. Not through words, but through flight, instinct, and the ones who still remember.

- Chapter Three

🆃🅰🅶🅻🅸🆂���

🅰/🅽

‣ I only have 3 chapters in mind for this one. (Part 3 on the making)

‣ So this is were basic military training come in handy + a pilot cousin.

‣ Had a lot of fun and breakdown writing this one given the fact that it has a oot of aviation terms. Feel free to ask. That's the fun part, made a lot of research material and watched tons of movie for this one.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

[ninjashouyo]

— j is for jealousy

rafayel was already pouting before you smiled at that man. he had spent the whole morning sulking, because your tea vendor called you darling when handing you your cup, because someone complimented your earrings, because a butterfly landed on your shoulder and didn’t land on his. none of it had anything to do with him.

so naturally, he was furious.

“you’re smiling too much today,” he grumbled with his arms crossed, as he trailed after you. “people will get ideas.”

“about what?” you teased, offering him a bite of your pastry. “that i’m friendly?”

“that you’re available,” he snapped, only to immediately take the pastry bite like it was a peace offering. “which you’re not. you belong to me.”

you didn’t argue and just laughed softly, brushing your fingers over his bangs, and he preened like a cat. or like a very grumpy, territorial sea creature. but then you smiled, really smiled, at a man passing by.

he was tall and harmless. polite. said something about the books you were carrying. and rafayel’s blood went cold.

the man wasn’t flirting. he didn’t have time to. because rafayel was suddenly at your back, hands curling around your waist, his chin on your shoulder as he stared the stranger down. no words. no expression. just wide, unblinking eyes, sharp smile creeping up far too slow.

the man excused himself.

“…was that necessary?” you asked lowly.

rafayel didn’t answer. his fingers flexed gently into your sides, and when you turned to face him, he looked wounded. offended. like he’d just watched you kiss a rival and declare war on his heart.

“you smiled at him,” he said flatly.

“i smile at everyone,” you replied.

“you don’t smile at me like that.”

you blinked. “that’s not true. i smiled at you just this morning.”

“that was a pastry smile,” he spat. “not a pretty boy smile.”

you stared at him. “are you jealous of a man we’ll never see again?”

“i’m jealous of air that touches you,” he said, eyes narrowing. “do not play with me.”

you almost laughed, until he grabbed your wrist and pulled you flush against him, voice a dark murmur, “smile at me like that. right now.”

you smiled slow, sweet, and wide. his eyes dilated and then he kissed you. he kissed you like it was proof. like it was punishment. like it was a warning to the world. his hands dragged down your back, his teeth brushed your lip, and when you gasped, he groaned like it was the sound he lived for.

“you’re mine,” he whispered hotly, voice wrecked with jealousy and worship.

“i know,” you breathed.

but he wasn’t done reminding you. not yet.

[ninjashouyo]

you stared intently at your boyfriend's features as he is lazily doom scrolling on his phone, your brows furrowed in deep thinking.

its been minutes already and it is driving rafayel crazy, with your soft frustrated huffs and puffs, changing your position frequently without your eyes leaving his face.

the constant dipping of the mattress is making him dizzy and slowly becoming self conscious that there might be something on his face

"stop it, you're making my head hurt," he complained, as he firmly pulled you against his chest, locking you in his embrace, while you wiggled your head and rested your chin on his chest.

"its not fair," you pouted, making him raise a confused and curious eyebrow at you.

"what?" he asked, putting his phone away and turning all of his focus on you as he thought you were trying to grab his attention.

"your face," you continued to pout, "you look pretty in all angles. it's not fair."

he chuckled at your cute, puffy and pouty face, making you squish his cheeks with both of your hands.

"what brought this all of a sudden?" he asked through his squished lips, his arms embracing you even more tight.

"nothing. i just read somewhere that even the best looking guys have bad days, but i dont think that applies to you," you answered while moving his face in different angles just to prove a point, "you are unreal."

"i like the ego boost, cutie," he said taking your hand to keep it still, "but i dont think i'd ever beat you and your goddess-like beauty," kissing your nose affectionately, making you blush at his sudden comment towards you.

"so beautiful that i am almost considering locking you away so that only i can ever enjoy you in all your glory."

you hide your face in the crook of his neck, making him chuckle even more, loving the adorable way you get flustered whenever he showers you with shameless praises.

this is what the glub-glub-glub king deserves, not trauma.

[ninjashouyo]

In preparation for the LaDs writing blog I'll inevitably make, I did a little Caleb study; bc I haven't written anything in a year (my last fic was neatly 10k words LMFAOO)

No warnings, all fluff and a lot of teasing!!

Tags: Established relationship, teasing, use of "pips", clothes stealing, both reader and Caleb have a degree in yearnology for each other

Man... My Caleb brain rot is so bad

»»————-　☾　————-««

“Pips! I'm back early, I picked up some groceries on my way here I was thinking of making some- is that my hoodie that got lost?" There in the dim light of your apartment, you're caught red handed by your boyfriend wearing his stolen hoodie. "I… perchance will you let me stache this somewhere and pretend like you never saw this?” You stutter out, a face a fierce shade of scarlet. "Not a chance.” Caleb says matter-of-factly, a smug smile absorbs his handsome features. " In fact, I'll be soooo kind and let a little thief explain themselves.” Caleb sets the groceries he bought on the kitchen counter and plants himself on one of the island chairs crossing his arms playfully. “Go ahead, I'm waiting." There's no malice behind his words whatsoever, just a teasing boyish smirk.

You cautiously step into the kitchen, eyes darting around for an escape route. You may be a deep space hunter but being teased by your boyfriend triggers your fight or flight. Your feet land in front of him and your eyes slowly drift to his. You take in a deep breath before beginning. " So uh, do you remember the last time I was in Skyhaven?” "Of course, it was the last time I saw you after all.” " Right right, I uh, well you went for a run before we went to bed because you had to leave earlier than usual the next day. You went to go shower and… I kinda saw your hoodie you were wearing just sitting there and I knew I wasn't gonna see you again for a few weeks so I just kinda I dunno… took it?" You mumble quietly. Caleb snots, shaking his head in disbelief. “So why last week when I told you my favorite hoodie was missing you didn't confess?" He presses, an eyebrow raised tauntingly. “I was going to tell you I swear! I just… This is humiliating and I'm never going to recover- it smells like you alright!! I miss you and it smells like you, so when I miss you really bad, I put it on.” You bury your face and the oversized sleeves.

Caleb is trying his best to fight back the massive stupid lovestruck grin on his face, but ultimately loses. “So you're a thief and a pervert. Who would've guessed…" Your face couldn't possibly get more red as you rip your head out of your hands and go smack him on the arm, however he easily intercepts the blow pulling you into a tight embrace. “If you wanted something that smells like me, you could've just asked. You know that right?" You nuzzle your burning cheeks against his chest. “I know, it's just humiliating and I don't wanna make you feel bad, because we both have demanding jobs.” He scoffs. " My hot girlfriend asking me for an item of my clothing that smells like me because she misses me; would make me feel weirdly honored, thank you very much.” You wack him lightly on the chest. " Who's the pervert now?” " Mmm, still the pretty girl who decided to steal my gross post run hoodie I think.”

»»————-　☾　————-««

[ninjashouyo]

In preparation for the LaDs writing blog I'll inevitably make, I did a little Caleb study; bc I haven't written anything in a year (my last fic was neatly 10k words LMFAOO)

No warnings, all fluff and a lot of teasing!!

Tags: Established relationship, teasing, use of "pips", clothes stealing, both reader and Caleb have a degree in yearnology for each other

Man... My Caleb brain rot is so bad

»»————-　☾　————-««

“Pips! I'm back early, I picked up some groceries on my way here I was thinking of making some- is that my hoodie that got lost?" There in the dim light of your apartment, you're caught red handed by your boyfriend wearing his stolen hoodie. "I… perchance will you let me stache this somewhere and pretend like you never saw this?” You stutter out, a face a fierce shade of scarlet. "Not a chance.” Caleb says matter-of-factly, a smug smile absorbs his handsome features. " In fact, I'll be soooo kind and let a little thief explain themselves.” Caleb sets the groceries he bought on the kitchen counter and plants himself on one of the island chairs crossing his arms playfully. “Go ahead, I'm waiting." There's no malice behind his words whatsoever, just a teasing boyish smirk.

You cautiously step into the kitchen, eyes darting around for an escape route. You may be a deep space hunter but being teased by your boyfriend triggers your fight or flight. Your feet land in front of him and your eyes slowly drift to his. You take in a deep breath before beginning. " So uh, do you remember the last time I was in Skyhaven?” "Of course, it was the last time I saw you after all.” " Right right, I uh, well you went for a run before we went to bed because you had to leave earlier than usual the next day. You went to go shower and… I kinda saw your hoodie you were wearing just sitting there and I knew I wasn't gonna see you again for a few weeks so I just kinda I dunno… took it?" You mumble quietly. Caleb snots, shaking his head in disbelief. “So why last week when I told you my favorite hoodie was missing you didn't confess?" He presses, an eyebrow raised tauntingly. “I was going to tell you I swear! I just… This is humiliating and I'm never going to recover- it smells like you alright!! I miss you and it smells like you, so when I miss you really bad, I put it on.” You bury your face and the oversized sleeves.

Caleb is trying his best to fight back the massive stupid lovestruck grin on his face, but ultimately loses. “So you're a thief and a pervert. Who would've guessed…" Your face couldn't possibly get more red as you rip your head out of your hands and go smack him on the arm, however he easily intercepts the blow pulling you into a tight embrace. “If you wanted something that smells like me, you could've just asked. You know that right?" You nuzzle your burning cheeks against his chest. “I know, it's just humiliating and I don't wanna make you feel bad, because we both have demanding jobs.” He scoffs. " My hot girlfriend asking me for an item of my clothing that smells like me because she misses me; would make me feel weirdly honored, thank you very much.” You wack him lightly on the chest. " Who's the pervert now?” " Mmm, still the pretty girl who decided to steal my gross post run hoodie I think.”

»»————-　☾　————-««

[ninjashouyo]

Imagine coming home late at night. It was already two in the morning by the time you got home. Although you aren't tired, all you wanted was to get home. To be right next to him.

Imagine ever since you started working at night shift, the lesser time you spend with your lover. Despite that, every night you would come home with already cooked food waiting for you and same goes upon waking up.

Imagine you feel bad. Of course you do, he already has too much on his plate, has to wake up early in the morning but still has time to cook food for you. So you wanted to give back. You planned to go home early tonight. But shits unfold and you were forced to take an over time.

Imagine closing the door behind you gently. He must be sleeping already just like any other day. So you went through the dimmed living room only to halt upon seeing his sleeping figure on the sofa. What is he doing in here?

Imagine coming over to him. Eyes softened as you look fondly at him. "Caleb." You caresses his cheeks gently. "Why are you sleeping here?" You tap his cheeks gently but strong enough to wake him up. As much as you want to carry him into your shared room. You don't think that would be possible. But you also think how uncomfortable it would be for him to spend a night in the sofa. "Come one bud, wake up. Let's mobe you to bed."

"Bud?" He stirred up on his sleep, opening one eye. "Who's bud? I'm only your baby, honey, darling, love-" "Yes yes honey, now move so I can help you get into bed, okay?" Instead on doing as you said, he yawn, stretched out and sat comfortably at the sofa, tapping the vacant spave beside him. "Caleb, it's late. You should seriously go back to sleep."

Imagine Caleb who was leaning on the sofa eyes closed, snapped open before reaching out a hand towards you, pulling you into his lap. You can feel his breath on the back of your nape sending a shiver down his spine. "That's too bad. I was waiting for you so we can eat dinner." That stunned you for a moment. "Baby, it's already two in the morning." "Oh."

Imagine sitting across him as he heats up the food. You can’t help but to stare at him. "Long day at work?" He could feel the weight of your stare. "No." You replied. "Just thinking how lucky I am to have you." You saw him halt, then he look back, a smile on his lips as if he cannot help it. "I should be the one telling you that." When he said that with such a genuine smile and look in his face. Who are you not to believe that?

Imagine you missed this. Eating with him, talking with him. You missed this. Longed for these moments to last. You missed him. "You know I love you, right?" He asked, eyes looking fondly at yours. You smiled at him. "Of course." You replied softly. "And you know I love you too right?" "I always do."

Imagine as Caleb wake up in the morning, your peaceful sleeping face greeting him. There is nothing more he could wish for. He already has everything within his arms. And he couldn’t wait for forever to come.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: laughing my ass of because I always do my daily around 12-3am and Caleb- my guy is always asleep lmao. And basically what leads to here. I see Sylus as the only man who can keep up with me but my heart wants Caleb :(

[ninjashouyo]

Idk if you're comfortable with it (and if not, ignore this ask!) but maybe a smau where the lads guys notice that reader has been skipping meals on purpose lately?

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 (𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦) | LADS + when you've been skipping meals

warnings: mention of weight related issues (eating disorders, weight related insecurities, and diet culture), hurt-ish, comfort, allusions to an LI having some sort of eating disorder (raf and caleb)

.˚₊‧˗ˏˋ ─── xavier

.˚₊‧˗ˏˋ ─── zayne

.˚₊‧˗ˏˋ ─── rafayel

.˚₊‧˗ˏˋ ─── sylus

.˚₊‧˗ˏˋ ─── caleb

[ninjashouyo]

to: captain save a hoe calebbbbb ): the aircon is broken againnnn ): requesting immediate assistance before gf melts into a puddle of sweat and tears

you'd sent those messages ten minutes ago. caleb shows up at your apartment door with a tool kit and ice cold gelato within the next thirty.

you hum happily as you bite into a spoonful of strawberry gelato as he works on the stupid machine, humming faintly to himself as your attention splits between him and the movie that had been idling on your screen a few feet away. but the screen becomes far less interesting very quickly over watching your boyfriend tinker away with laser focused precision, soon ignoring the movie entirely to watch him.

sweat beads on his arms and forehead as he works, pausing momentarily to wipe it away. your arm moves mindlessly from cup to your mouth, but the taste of strawberry goes unnoticed. you blink and his shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor. you don't bother to look for where it landed.

were the curtains drawn open when he came in? you don't even remember. but the sun decides to favor him despite it being the reason why it was one of the hottest days of the year. turns out even the sun can't help but shine over your knight in... less than armor coming to your rescue against heatstroke.

with a proud exhale, caleb soon stands back with his hands on his hips as the air conditioner finally rattles back to life, immediately pushing cold air into the living room. he turns around with a wide grin to find you already looking at him and offers a thumbs up. "your refrigerant was damaged and blowing hot air into the room, but it should be good now!"

you blink once, then nod. whatever a refrigerant was. "oh, really? i didn't know that. thanks."

"i'm glad you texted, y'know. i'd hate to have come home later and found out you were suffering in the heat like that." caleb moves to pick up his shirt, drawing your eyes like a magnet to his arms. "i'll look into getting you a new one installed instead of having to rely on this old thing. sound good?"

your gelato is melting with negligence. somehow you can't find it within yourself to care that much. "sure. thanks, again."

his head tilts a bit at your less than enthusiastic answers, a frown settling on his lips much to your surprise. "you're sure you're okay? the heat hasn't gotten you that bad, right?"

before you can even answer, he crowds into your space and places a hand to your forehead. your heart rate spikes immediately in response and you nearly crush the poor cup of gelato-turned-juice in your hand. his brows furrow slightly, now moving to cup your face.

"hey, are you okay? your face is really hot. why didn't you contact me sooner? and your gelato is already melted—you were burning up in here!"

you don't have the heart to tell him he's the reason behind your sudden rise in temperature, only offering a weak smile to his fussing and succumbing yourself to his fretting. his very shirtless fretting. arms. muscles. what was he even talking about?

"you're going to be alright, okay?" a cool towel is placed on your forehead after he lays you down on the couch, the cold sensation making you sigh a bit in relief. the tension in caleb's face eases a bit as he gently strokes your face. "yeah? that feel good?"

his smile is so soft when you voice your affirmative, patting your arm in consolation. "don't move. i'll get you more gelato."

maybe a thanks to said stupid machine was due.