#lnds drabble

[seongwars]

Word Count: 497 Warnings: yandere!Caleb, dad!Caleb, dash of fluff, hints of breeding kink, baby trapping and coercion, 2 swear words, mention of pregnancy, not proofread Summary: Caleb comes home from another expedition

a/n: I had to take a break from writing strangers by nature because i was making myself sad so uhh here's a caleb drabble

“Daddy’s home!”

Your four year old jumped up from his Legos, bolting to the door with your chubby toddler hot on his heels. The front door creaked open just in time for Caleb to brace himself as the boys launched into his arms.

It wasn’t easy, being the wife of the fleet’s colonel. Caleb’s expeditions often kept him away for weeks at a time, leaving you to hold down the fort with your two boys and the endless chaos they brought with them.

But moments like this made it all worth it. Seeing the way the boys lit up as they reunited with their father made all the waiting worth it. Not to mention the nasty, sloppy, back bending, toe curling, eye rolling, reunion sex–hence your five month baby bump.

Despite the exhaustion etched into his features, Caleb still made time for all of you. He was the kind of man who wouldn’t miss a parent teacher conference, who insisted on reading every bedtime story no matter how tired he was. 

On Saturday mornings, he’d stand in the kitchen, attempting to make dinosaur shaped pancakes while the boys watched in awe.

“Daddy, how do you do that?” your four year old learned forward on the counter with his elbows. Beside him, your two-year-old waved his chubby hands in the air, babbling his own version of the question.

“It’s all in the flick of the wrist, buddy,” Caleb grinned, flipping the pancake. 

Sometimes the “dinosaur” ended up looking more like a blob, but to the boys, it was nothing short of magic. They clapped and cheered as Caleb plated his creation, declaring it a Whateversaurus Rex or the dinosaur of the day as conjured by your husband. 

And so, yes, you’d let this man keep you pregnant. How could you not? Every time you thought about saying no, about maybe slowing down and letting your body recover between pregnancies, he’d look at you with those adoring puppy eyes and pull you into his strong arms, leaving you utterly undone.

But you didn’t notice the way his eyes darkened when you said yes again, or the way his touch lingered just a second too long on the curve of your belly. To you, it was devotion, a husband marveling at the miracle of life, his love for you and your growing family. 

But to him, it was victory.

Because Caleb wasn’t just a loving husband. He was a man who refused to let you slip through his fingers. The thought of you walking away, of a life where you weren’t his in every sense of the word, was unthinkable.  

Everytime he had you folded into a mating press murmuring “just one more for me, baby" he was ensuring that you stayed right where you belonged—bound to him in every possible way as he fucked his seed over and over into your cunt.

You belonged to him. And he’d make sure it stayed that way forever.

[shaiyasstuff]

step into the snowfall between stars

elloww~ I’m shaiya (you can call me rin though)

i write things that hurt a little. maybe a lot.

few things about my works; it’s heartbreak. it’s love, in the moments no one talks about.

read at your own risk. or don’t. but if you do, thank you and welcome aboard the angst train :D

sylus | the deal, the fire, the guilt

zayne | quiet hands, colder truths

rafayel | the tease, the burn, the ache

xavier | princely charm, silent cruelty

inbox/written requests

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Casually calling them "daddy" LADS

Word count; 1,913

Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship

Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!

You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…

Xavier 

It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that. 

But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you. 

Anyway, today was just a normal day as any. 

You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him. 

You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly. 

“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?” 

You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you. 

“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”

“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.

 “No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.” 

You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.” 

“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we…?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips. 

Gosh, he was so cute. 

“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?” 

“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.” 

Zayne 

You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician. 

The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago. 

Now, though, you really want to fluster the man. 

He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him. 

So, what did you decide to do? 

You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.

That should definitely go over well. 

Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed. 

“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right. 

“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all. 

"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes. 

“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”

“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.” 

Rafayel 

It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…

Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay. 

It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”. 

He was also so easy to fluster. 

You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect. 

You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting. 

Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image. 

As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback. 

“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here. 

“Huh?” 

It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up  and makes his way toward you. 

“Again.” 

Now, it's your turn to be confused. 

“Raf, what–” 

“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes. 

“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red. 

“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy. 

“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back. 

“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”

Sylus

It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet. 

It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life. 

This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.

But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day. 

...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days. 

You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle. 

And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic. 

So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner. 

“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...” 

“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better. 

“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind. 

Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right? 

“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.” 

Okay, you got this. 

You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?” 

The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle. 

“Sure, kitten.” 

Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle. 

“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove. 

“Da–”

“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.” 

I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!

I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!

I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)

Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.

I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷

[lotusteabag]

the morning slips in without ceremony—a gentle light spilling across your shared sheets, touching the edge of zayne's jaw where the shadow of sleep still lingers. he doesn't move when you shift beside him. doesn't flinch when you lean up on one elbow and comb a hand through your own hair, already planning out the day. the world is quiet—no beeping pagers, no calls from the hospital, no alerts from the hunter's watch. just you, him, and a sunday soft enough to make even him linger.

you stretch. a satisfied sigh leaves your mouth as you sit uptight, reaching toward the drawer. "alright. i'm up."

a low hum answers you—not quite a word, more a vibration from the man still half-buried in your pillow. zayne turns his head, eyes cracked just enough to watch you through a slit of dark lashes.

he doesn't smile. not really. but there's that glint—a soft mockery wrapped in tenderness—as his hand snakes out from under the covers to curl around your wrist and pull you back into bed.

"ten more minutes," he murmurs, voice hoarse with sleep. his fingers slide down to interlace with yours against the sheets. "you owe me."

you scoff. "for what?"

"for waking up first every other day this week," he replies without hesitation, tugging you until your shoulder meets his chest. "before either of our alarms, i might add. and then for starting conversations before i've made peace with being conscious."

you laugh, helpless against the heat of him, the weight of his arm draped lazily over your waist now, holding you there like he's rescheduling the entire morning with that single action.

"and here i thought dr. li liked being up early."

"i like routines," he says, lips brushing against the top of your head. "doesn't mean i like getting out of bed. not when you're here."

there's a beat—just breath and heartbeat. a small sigh fans across your temple.

"i'll get up in ten."

"you said that ten minutes ago."

zayne lifts a brow, eyes now open properly. "exactly. i'm nothing if not consistent."

you roll your eyes. he kisses your cheek.

and you stay—partly because he asked, mostly because he's still got your hand and no plans of letting go.

[janluxe]

GENUINE CARE – CALEB / XIA YIZHOU

–summary; just because we grow up, it doesn't mean we change for the worst, right? –contents; smut, fluff, and maybe a sprinkle of angst.

–word count; 3.1k –a/n; writing scenes like this is so interesting yet so awkward at the same time I can't,, have a nice day/night, and thank you for reading <3 (also Caleb's myth>>)

You held a special place in his heart ever since he had first seen you.

Caleb had always been so fond of you. It was sickening for everyone else who had to tolerate being around.

His mind is still haunted by your laughter and the joy that overfilled you back when you were carefree and small, still jumping in puddles of water made on the side of the road.

And much like a gardener who takes care of his precious flowers, Caleb was always on the look out when it came to you – from starting fights with your bullies to being there whenever you needed someone to listen to you talk about your issues.

He would wait a lifetime if it meant he got to spend it by your side, being the reason for that bright smile of yours. He would carry your burdens for you without a second thought if only you allowed him to.

His mind had always been a museum of you and the moments you had gifted him with.

Caleb, despite everything he has been put through, still holds onto the memories he has made with you as a kid, recalling every single detail related to you.

He remembers how your hands quivered before a play date you had arranged with a classmate of yours back in the old days. Of course, he hasn't changed all that much – even back then, he despised the idea of you spending time with someone who wasn't him, but the hint of excitement hiding amongst the cracks of your voice made him soften to the thought.

Caleb carefully fixed your hair, small and childish hands running through each strand and pulling your bangs out of your face with a red apple themed hairclip he had bought for you on his way home from school. He loved you too much to let you struggle on your own. Your gaze followed his slightly taller frame in the mirror as he swiftly moved behind you to zip up your dress and then proceeded to fix any imperfections of the fabric right after.

He took a small step away from you, staring at you with a proud smile on his boyish features. "You look... pretty." The compliment echoed in your mind as you stared at your reflection, completely taken aback by his work.

"You're beautiful." Caleb muttered against the bare skin of your shoulder. His teeth grazing against the soft flesh and his tongue running over to soothe the redness he had created. His hand rested on your waist, enjoying the closure for a minute more before he started to unzip your dress.

The badges on his chest weighed heavy, the cold metal coming in contrast with the warmth of your back. The Colonel's uniform on him was a strange sight as someone who had been with him through the good and the bad ever since he was a child. The softness of your dress' straps got replaced with the smooth feeling of his leather gloves, causing your shoulders to tense at the change of sensation on your skin.

"You seem a bit tense, pipsqueak." He stated, letting your dress fall and pool at your feet as he placed his arm behind your knees. His grip on you was firm, yet gentle when he lifted you up. The mattress dipped under your shared weight, while Caleb's eyes were stuck, admiring the golden hue on your features.

The sun had begun to set in Skyhaven, changing the colors of the sky into a fun mix. They were right. They were right about how pretty the sunset is in this city, yet Caleb wasn't interested in watching another nightfall, not when his whole world was in his arms.

"Easy now..." He mumbled, bringing your frame even closer to his own, fingers pressing into the taut muscles of your shoulders in an attempt to massage out the tension with precise movements. "Tell me what's bothering that little noggin of yours."

"You've changed." You hesitated but didn't fail to notice a small smirk forming on his face as his hands slid further down your back, following the outline of your spine.

A faint scoff escaped him as he leaned closer to you, wanting to close the space between you, but he held onto his sanity for now. "How come?" A quick and simple question that did an incredible job at throwing you off.

"Well... you're not the same boy that used to walk me to class, help me wash my hair..." Your voice was like a well-sung poem caressing his ears even while you kept listing off reasons he seemed different than he was before.

Caleb held eye contact with you. It didn't feel strange to either of you, not after so many challenges and games of 'whoever-looks-away-first-washes-the-dishes-for-a-week' during your time together.

"You're not exactly the same either, now, are you?" The steadiness in his voice always had a soothing effect on you, but his words didn't exactly calm you down completely. You were about to throw a protest at him before the feeling of his hat on your head messed up your thought process. "We're all grown up now, pipsqueak."

"That doesn't mean we've changed for the worst." He murmured against the shell of your ear, his voice lowered to nothing more than a whisper. Fine dark hair tickled your cheek as his lips traveled down to your jawline, leaving pecks on every part of skin they could reach. "Give me a chance to show you." The desperation dripping off his tone went straight to your core –large hands unclasping and sliding off your bra.

Your mind remained occupied with his tender touches along your back and his kisses on the column of your throat, creating a way to escape reality if you decided to just shut your eyes.

Caleb always had the tendency to put you before himself. Even while the other boys of your age grew selfish, he despised the idea of neglecting your needs for the sake of his own

His hand moving to rest on your waist brought you back into the present. The small, surpised noises that escaped your throat encouraged him to trail his lips further down, finding the nubs of your chest and circling one with his tongue and finally popping it into his mouth He tried his best to make it feel good for you – Caleb wasn't just willing to, no, he was determined to please you.

Part of you believed this was the wrong thing to do after being brought up in the same household and playing the roles of siblings. But the rules that society placed upon you didn't linger in your mind a moment longer when you noticed the look he was giving you, violet eyes full of stars stolen from the night sky and saved just for you.

"I'll make this work, pipsqueak." Caleb's words landed your skin, soothing the path of goosebumps he had left on it. "Be a good girl, and I promise I will." He had always been good at keeping his promises, no backing out – and, in fact, already sliding off the only remaining clothing on you.

Your shivers and the way your skin soaked in the golden light that sneaked through the blinders urged him to keep going, to leave patience and taking it slow for another day – his grip on the plush flesh of your thighs was the only thing keeping his emotions in check, reminding him that he should take things slow. After all, your satisfaction meant more to him than his own pleasure ever would.

If he could keep you right here just like this forever, he wouldn't hesitate.

The badges on his chest clinked under your hand the moment you decided to push him back into the mattress.

Beneath all those layers of responsibility lay a faint, but not unfamiliar, heartbeat, one that always grew louder and quicker with the right touch.

Whenever he refused to open up about his emotions because he believed he shouldn't burden you with his troubles, his body betrayed him despite his best efforts. You could tell how much he needed you. The way his slender fingers clenched onto the sheets like they were a lifeline, the soft pink hue creeping onto his face and the very obvious bobbing of the Adam's apple in his throat was telling you everything you wanted to know.

Despite the position he was in, the usual softness in his expression lingered and yet, it perfectly harmonized with the hint of a frown creasing his brow and the ever-so-slight quiver of his lip which gave away his underlying complaint.

Beneath all those layers was a boy who did everything in his power to keep you happy when no one else bothered. A boy who made sure to protect not only you but also your memories from anyone who dared disturb you.

Heat started pooling in your abdomen. You were no stranger to the feeling, especially when he was the cause. Thoughts of the first time you felt it rushed to you, it happened while playfighting with him and getting pinned down out of the blue; he allowed a small hint of frustration to seep through his usual facade before he played it off like he always used to do. Your eyes traced the outline of his muscles flexing against the thin fabric of the shirt he was wearing. His touch remained gentle but didn't falter even for a second.

You couldn't help but zone out, noticing how underneath all those layers, he was still the same man.

A small, choked noise escaped him the moment he felt your hand unintentionally trailed lower. "Fuck." Caleb slowly losing his cool over something so small was a sight you could get used to.

"You can't be serious." Your teasing comment and the cocky smirk you wore had him teetering right on the edge of falling apart before your very eyes.

The sight? Pathetically adorable and judging by how red he had gotten all over, it was bound to get much worse.

"Please." Caleb knew how embarrassing it was to be in a position like this, unable to touch you even after waiting for you all these years. But to put it quite frankly, he couldn't care less about his dignity at the moment. "Can I touch–" his words caught in his throat, or crashed into your thumb when you slipped it past his lips to shut him up.

You couldn't resist teasing him, running your hand all over his uniform, and feeling him twitch under your touch. There were small details on his attire that piqued your curiosity, playing around with them while he observed you. "You're still in uniform. That's not very fair, is it?" You cooed, grounding yourself against the rough fabric of his uniform. He was a sight for sore eyes; propped up on his elbows, trying to communicate with muffled sentences and loud whines.

Caleb's cries filled up the quiet room before you removed your finger from his mouth with a wet pop, and he was already struggling to catch his breath. "Good. It feels good..." his chest rose and fell rapidly under your hand, hips bucking involuntarily as he felt his mind slip. Sadly, this wasn't enough, and you were both aware of that fact.

He was in awe of the way you handled him effortlessly, already drowning in the sensations you were –oh so generously– offering him. His eyelashes met the freckled skin of his cheeks each time you toyed with his belt.

Caleb was never one for formal wear, so the first time you saw him in his academy outfit, some feelings stirred. And now his Colonel uniform had you going feral.

"My love, I can't–" The words rolled off his tongue easily, yet trailed off into a gasp the moment he felt his tip nudging the entrance of your glistening folds.

'My love'? Not 'pipsqueak'?

"I can stop." A mere comment had him biting down on his lip, hand reaching out to hold you in place before you even had the chance to move away and accidentally pulling you even closer which caused the both of you to groan.

"Do anything you want, just don't stop." Caleb managed to mutter, feeling too overwhelmed and underwhelmed by the feeling of you enveloping him – the scent of your body lotion overcoming his senses. "I'm begging you."

Violet, glassy eyes staring up at you through long eyelashes, hoping you'd give him at least something.

You could stay right where you were for the rest of eternity, leaving him exposed the same way he had done – the evidence of which was your clothing, still scattered in the bedroom. But, you knew you wouldn't do that.

The Farspace fleet Colonel deduced to the mess writhing underneath you while you took the opportunity to get used to the feeling of him pushing apart the velvet surface of your walls the more you sunk down on him.

You shut your eyes, trying your best to adjust to the sensation; sure, it was pleasurable to an extent, but it contained a painful undertone that couldn't be ignored.

Noticing how your nose scrunched up, a hint of discomfort coloring your features, Caleb immediately moved his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered on the back of your neck as he reassured you, "It's okay." Voice soothing and sweet like honey on an open wound, "I've got you, pretty girl."

All of his attention was on you. It never left you, in fact. "You're doing an awesome job. Look at you." He cooed, allowing his eyes to flutter closed right after he pressed his forehead against yours. The rhythm he had set was slow and shallow, making sure your first time with him wouldn't leave a bitter aftertaste in the future.

"I'm fine." Your words seemed to calm him down. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of pride when you finally managed to gather up the strength to fully settle on him, and the awful smile he had on proved that even more.

"I know you are." Caleb coaxed, talking to you with the same amount of admiration in his voice even when he was just a young boy. "You're taking me so well." was a sentence you never expected to hear from his mouth.

You couldn't help but pause, a faint chuckle escaping you before a comment about his way of praise left your lips automatically, "Can't you express yourself better than that?"

One moment, you feel overwhelmed by the newly found sensation, and the next you feel homey enough to laugh with his maybe-not-so elegant remarks. "Noo, I can't." He protested playfully, thumb brushing and gently squishing the flesh of your inner thigh. "Not when you're this cruel."

"You're acting like you hate it." Your voice was filled with complaint, causing his features to soften up like they always used to do back then; when you explained to him how your day at school went like shit because of a bad grade, or how one of your friends was talking behind your back and especially when you couldn't spend time stuck to his side because he had to focus on his studies.

A hearty laugh eacaped his throat, acknowledging your effort to make him feel guilty, "No, I love it, honey." Caleb bounced back with no issue, having grown accustomed to your acts. And yet, a part of him struggled to remained composed while your small frame grinded down on his significantly bigger one, seeking out friction.

"You, on the other hand, are awfully impatient." Caleb's usual teasing attitude seeped through the muffled noises that escaped him each time you moved around. "Still the same, hm?" He hummed, trying to prove a point even while his voice was barely stable, and his mind was already traveling places. "Maybe I should bring your favorite treats next time. To make this more engaging cause you seem a bit lost." His thumb lightly pressed on your clit caught you off guard, and your reaction was written all over your face. It was clear how proud he was with his comment while you struggled to keep a straight face.

The pad of his finger gently traced the outline of your nub, testing the waters and coaxing it to harden under his touch before he applied more pressure. Your thought process melted as you slowed down your movements and eventually let them halt completely. "Oh no, don't stop now. You promised." The unnatural low pitch of his voice and his breath on your face snapped you back into reality, not allowing you to take without giving.

You could feel his hipbones grazing against the skin of your thighs while you squeezed him, in every sense of the word.

"Come on, we both know you can do better than that." Caleb encouraged you, placing a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips with the hope that his moans wouldn't sound as pathetic as they truly were. Maybe he had a chance to prove that he wasn't a total loser who wasn't already holding off his release.

His soft praises faded into a harmonic haze as he peppered your face in kisses while your hips met his in a rhythmic motion. Caleb admired every aspect of you more than anyone ever could, and he wanted you to know that. He was willing to give you everything you asked for and more. He wasn't afraid of pleasing you, and it had you arching your back in an attempt to find a different angle. One that made you see universes unfolding before you, universes in the same color as the irises that mesmerized you on a daily basis.

"When did it get dark?" You managed to mutter, still putting a lot of effort into forming a coherent sentence while your eyes studied the darkness of the room – your body still slumped against his.

The smell of his cologne enveloped your being, calming you down. Caleb was there with you, and he wasn't going anywhere without you.

His hand redirected your face to rest against his chest, feeling his heart race under your cheek and his laughter erupt from his throat. "You're totally out of it, huh pipsqueak?" Caleb teased, flicking his hat before he took it off of your head and set it aside so he could replace it with his face.

A position that reminded you so much of how he used to hold you when you were still the same height.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." He murmured, picking you up effortlessly right after he was done kissing the top of your head to carry you to the bathroom. "I've got you."

[remireee]

Caleb is the type to reluctantly willingly keep yours and his relationship a secret if you request it—of course, he ain't going down without a bit of a fight but you know how eager he is to please you.

But so help him if anyone asks him about it when you ain't around or god forbid vaguely hinting at their interest in you; 'cause like a waterfall; this man would spill so much that it's so clear it ain't just a slip of the mind.

It's only when words get to you does he start trailing behind you like the puppy he is, sweetly begging for your forgiveness, trying so desperately to hide that shit-eating grin on that stupid face of his ('cause both you and he knows that your guys' secret was bound to be found anyways).

Caleb: "Ohh come on, pipsqueak. I really didn't mean to, it just slipped my mind, I promise it won't happen again. Pleaseee, I'm sorry!"

You: "…you and I both know you aren't sorry."

…

Caleb: "Yeah, you're right~"

[moongirlcleo]

I'd Give Up the Stars - a drabble

❤︎  tags and content: smut and fluff ❤︎  author note: check out all my fics by searching #moongirlcleo or on AO3

🔞NSFW content - Minors DNI 🔞 Dividers: @/cafekitsune  Fic: @moongirlcleo  

It’s quiet in Skyhaven tonight—too quiet, Caleb thinks, given the way his heart still slams against the inside of his ribs like he’s flying through turbulence, not lying in bed with the only thing that’s ever made him feel safe. The walls of his quarters are dimly lit by the dull blue of the city’s pulse outside, the soft light cutting across your bare shoulder as you curl against him, sweat-damp skin sticking to his as though even your body knows not to drift too far. His arm—that arm—rests by his side, still humming faintly with the aftershock of contact, the metal cooling but the rest of him burning.

You smell like him now. Like skin and heat and the faint metallic tang of the sheets beneath you, like something claimed, and the possessive ache that’s carved itself hollow inside his chest softens only when he watches you breathe—slow, steady, here.

He traces the curve of your back with calloused fingertips, the human ones, dragging slowly like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you with touch alone. You hum, sleepy and spent, and he wants to believe this is enough. That this—this—could be the thing that finally anchors him after years of floating untethered in the dark.

"I’d give up the stars,” he murmurs, voice low and ragged, mouth grazing your temple, “if it meant keeping you here.” A pause, one breath, two. “In my bed. In my arms. Always.”

You shift to face him, eyes still heavy-lidded but searching, and your hand comes to rest over his chest like you’re trying to quiet the storm beneath his ribs. “You don’t have to give anything up,” you whisper, brushing your lips over his collarbone. “I’m already yours.”

Caleb makes a sound—half broken, half reverent—and pulls you on top of him again, because words aren’t enough, and neither is this, but he’ll keep chasing the shape of you with his hands, his mouth, his body until he believes it’s real. Until the last of the cold metal in him remembers what it means to feel.

You’re still warm, your body molded to his, but there’s a different kind of heat building now—low and slow, simmering between your hips as you shift against him. He groans, low and rough in his throat, the sound vibrating against your chest as you slide your thigh over his waist, deliberately brushing against the hardness already growing between you.

“Already?” you murmur, your voice a sleepy tease, but your breath stutters when his hands grip your hips, strong and possessive.

“You’ve been lying here,” he rasps, voice tight, “soft, perfect, mine—what did you think would happen?”

You reach between you and guide him in with a practiced ease, and his reaction is instant—his head falls back against the pillow, jaw clenched, a curse bitten off through his teeth as you sink down slow. He fills you like he always does: deep, thick, like he was meant to be there. One hand fists in the sheets, the other comes up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing your bottom lip as he looks up at you like you’re the only thing left in the galaxy that matters.

“Fuck,” he breathes, thrusting up once, slow and hard, “you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

And when you roll your hips and moan his name, he doesn’t just hold you—he anchors you, like letting go might mean losing you all over again.

[icedoatlatte29]

Caleb immediately notices when you're feeling down. Even if you try to hide it and act like your usual self, he can see through the façade. The way your eyelids remain shut for a second longer, the way you're only mindlessly scrolling away on your phone instead of indulging in one of your hobbies – he knows something is up with you. As much as he'd like to know what is bothering you, he isn't saying anything. Instead, he will let you lean onto him and be there for you. Silently wrapping the two of you in a blanket and lounging on the couch, he will wait for you to tell him what is on your mind. Caleb will always be by your side, even when the sky is grey and you feel like dissolving into the rain. He is always going to be what you need, let that be your number one cheerleader or a silent shoulder to lean on after a hard day.

[crimsonbloomss]

Tell us about Maeve and Caleb. What's special about him to her?

Nonnie, what have you done? I wasn't expecting to brainrot this bad.

Unprompted. Sobbing in 1.6k words

—

Maeve may not remember the very first time she met Caleb before her reset, because Caleb always seemed to leave out the events prior to when they would take Maeve into that space to run tests on her, but she could never forget him entirely.

Unbeknownst of the horrors she would experience, she would appear with happiness etched on her facial features and when a researcher no longer held her hand and she spotted Caleb, she would run up to him and the cycle would start all over again.

"You feel... Familiar, like I've already met you, but... I don't know your name."

"It's okay, I'll always remind you." He would take Maeve's hand and hold it gently, "I'm Caleb, I'll always be by your side."

Repeat that for the next few resets.

While her static memories did little to nothing in terms of helping her remember Caleb each time, her soul remembered his amethyst eyes and that boyish smile. Little things about Caleb that meant the world to her. His protection and care being a sheer bonus.

As they grew up together, Caleb became someone that Maeve knew she couldn't do without. Despite their consistent teasing and bullying to another; Caleb would beat up kids who were meant to her, and, well... Maeve wasn't any different. 

"Only I can bully you, anyone else who tries will get their ass kicked."

—

As they grew older, so too did this silly little crush Maeve had on him. He always made her feel safe, wanted, and most of all needed. Even though he was the one doing almost everything for her, even when he left her to go to Aerospace Academy.

This gravitational pull toward him never relented and panic rose when she realized her crush wasn't a crush anymore which also resulted in her avoiding conversations with him and only leaving it to when he would come down from Skyhaven to stay with Josephine and her.

That is, until Caleb noticed the change and he wasn't one to beat around the bush once he noticed it—not when it came to her. Of course, this didn't help with Maeve's feelings, these emotions bubbling inside her that she didn't quite understand and tried hard to push away. That ache in her heart... What was it? It wasn't anything like the pain she'd feel with her Protocore Syndrome.

The ache was dull and only sub-sided when Caleb would hold her close during stormy nights. She wasn't scared of the storms; she loved the rain, dark clouds and the stormy sky in general. What she was scared of was the nightmares that never failed to visit her during these times or coincidentally whenever Caleb had to leave her again.

—

She fell first, but he fell harder.

Maeve was oblivious and in an almost painful way. Caleb had always shown interest in her, but her insecurities and the way she saw how popular Caleb was, even the stories she would hear from Yours Truly about the girls—yeah, there was no way she would ever believe Caleb had any attraction to her. Not when she felt she could never catch up to him.

And she was the one calling him dummy. 

Jealousy. She had always been jealous, she just knew how to mask it. Even when Caleb had always reassured her that nothing was going on with any other girls (as if she had the right, they weren't even dating!) Maeve always found a way to self-sabotage any possible positive outcome.

It led her to doing things that evidently landed her in situations that Caleb would have killed the latter for putting her through. She always wondered why Caleb was adamant of never losing communication even when Maeve had dated someone else. 

They weren't Caleb, they were nothing like him, and when she would get in fights with her partner, it was Caleb that would come over with ice cream, snacks, and build a pillow fort for them to just hang out in. Nothing happened other than the two laying there under the fairy lights and maybe Maeve's hand brushed against Caleb's for that moment in time. 

It was then that Maeve knew... She had always been happier with him. No one compared to him.

He was her safe haven. He was the guiding light in her darkness and he never allowed her to delve into her sea of darkness for long, always managing to pull her out of those thoughts.

"Pip-squeak. Do you even know what happened in this episode?" 

No, she didn't... She was too busy staring at him and something in her chest leaped when his head turned and there was this knowing smile. 

Oh, if only she could ki—no, Maeve. Snap out of it.

"Of course I do! The uh... HOMRA are looking for the culprit and they just found the silver-haired guy." 

"That was five episodes ago." 

"Shut up, no one's counting."

— 

The  night Caleb kissed her was the night she reached the point of no return.

Denial. 

Unbridled jealousy.

Insecurity. 

All of that dissipated the moment his lips touched hers. 

Possession greeted itself from the depths of both their souls.

"Cancel the date." 

"But—" 

"Or do I have to do it for you? C'mon, there's no way you actually want to go on this date with that guy." 

He always knew how to read her, even when she tried to mask everything to trick him. He just knew.

Needless to say, that night began and ended with their feelings and confessions unraveling in between sheets and shared breaths in their heated kisses. Neither of them could ever go back.

—

"Is it you?"

From the explosion in Bloomshore District to her meeting him in Skyhaven as the Colonel of the Farspace Fleet. Her feelings had never left nor changed.

"Do I need to do a formal introduction?" He paused, mirth in his eyes but his voice so soft as he held her hand gently, "I'm Caleb. I'll always be by your side."

To Maeve, no matter what happened, Caleb was back.

Even selfishly so, she didn't care about the events in between, only that her Caleb was alive. And, well, she can't really fault her for keeping secrets. Despite their argument before she returned to Linkon, she didn't want to lose him again.

To her Caleb was Caleb, no matter what hat he wore or what title he held. Whether she is blinded by the love she always harbored for him, unable to see the shadows that lurk behind him, puppeteering him elusively, or not, he was still that kind and gentle person to her. 

All the things that transpired before he came back to her did little to nothing in having any impact on her, for all she truly wanted was Caleb back in her arms. And surely, she would fall for him over and over again.

[tumbling-through-deepspace]

Sometimes Lyssa can be stubborn and petty, and then there is Zayne, right there to put her in her place.

*Le gasp* Sir-- excuse me? 🤣🤣

Look at that smug face.

[catbolt]

Sylus who awakens from a nightmare and acts immediately on his instinct to hold you, gripping you close under the sheets with one arm around your waist and one tucking behind your neck. You blearily look up at him, shaken out of your own sleep. “Sy?”

He doesn’t respond, only rests his chin atop your head, breathing in the smell of your shampoo, arms locked around you like a vice. You can feel his heart racing as you’re pressed up against his chest, the slight tremble in his hands. “Sy,” your voice grows more serious. “What’s–”

He silences you by pulling you in even closer, burying his head against your neck. For all the times he’s helped you pick apart your own struggles, he’s not very good with words when it comes to his personal feelings. You sigh, stroking a gentle hand across his bare back. “That nightmare again? The one where I’m stabbing you with a big sword?”

He nods, the motion almost imperceptible. His voice comes out like a low hoarse growl. “Sounds stupid when you say it like that.” The silent plea for reassurance, something his usual confidence rarely needs, is clear to you.

“Not stupid,” you correct softly, rubbing his back. As your touch soothes him slowly, his tight hold on you gradually relents. He sighs in frustration, leaning back on his pillow and staring up at the ceiling. You shift closer, sitting up on your hand to place a kiss in the center of his broad chest. His body tenses at the sensation, and he looks down at you, red eyes soft and almost murky with emotion. “See? No sword here,” you mumble, as you lay your head against his chest.

He only pets your hair in response, but you’re satisfied as you hear his breathing slowly steady, his touches becoming lazy and usual, not as if he’s still trying to convince himself you’re really here. He drifts off finally back into sleep, the rise and fall of his chest like a gentle ocean beneath your head.

[seongwars]

mornings

I managed to pull TWO of the 5 star Caleb cards from the new banner in one go, so here's some smut to celebrate

Word Count: 1075 Warnings: SMUT, yandere dad caleb, period tracking, unprotected sex, p in v, unproofread, mentions of impregnation, caleb malewifing manipulating, manhandling part of the lads!dadverse

Caleb’s day started at 5 AM, as it always did. 

He stretched his arms over his head, rolling out the tension in his muscles before pressing a kiss to your cheek. He took a moment to admire your sleeping face before moving through the motions of the morning: starting a pot of coffee, pulling out ingredients for breakfast, and prepping lunch boxes.

By 6:30, the first stirrings of life began.

Ciel prided himself on being the oldest at six and got himself ready without any help. Archer, however, was still wrapped in his blanket, clutching his dinosaur plush and groaning in protest when Caleb nudged him awake.

As for the twins, transitioning them to toddler beds had been your idea and Caleb was starting to question it. Eden had turned the mattresses into his personal trampoline, while Stella lay sprawled on the floor, too lazy to get up. With a resigned sigh, Caleb scooped them both up and carried them to the kitchen, where their older brothers were already waiting patiently for breakfast.

By 7:30, the house was empty. The car was loaded, and everyone was buckled in for school and daycare drop off. 

Caleb's day started at 5 AM, just as it always did. He made sure everything was taken care of just the way you liked it. There was no reason for you to lift a finger.

Because when you woke up, he wanted your focus to be on him. 

You felt it the moment you opened your eyes. Every hormone in your system seemed dead set on one thing: getting absolutely wrecked by the man who had just finished the school run.

Somehow, Caleb always timed it perfectly, as if he had mapped out every fluctuation, every shift in your body like clockwork. As if he had studied you. Tracked you. Controlled you in ways you hadn’t even realized.

You padded sleepily toward the kitchen, drawn to the smell of coffee and there he was, standing menacingly by the fridge, fresh from the shower wearing those damn gray sweatpants.

It wasn’t fair. No man should look that good after wrangling four kids, doing the laundry and cleaning the house from top to bottom. His hair was still damp with droplets clinging to his skin and his muscles flexed as he reached for a glass of water. And those sweatpants? They clung just right, taunting you to pull them down and wrap your lips around his cock. 

Caleb turned at the sound of your footsteps, a slow, knowing smile creeping across his lips.

"Morning, baby," he murmured, like he’d been waiting for you.

And just like that, you forgot everything else.

Your body reacted before your brain could catch up, every nerve screaming at you to jump his bones—to shove him against the counter, to drag him back to bed, the counter, the floor, any surface to hold you up as he fucked your brains out. 

And your husband happily obliged. 

“How’re you still so tight after four kids?” he grunted, slamming his hips into you from behind.

You didn't respond, too fucked out on his cock as his balls slapped against your swollen pussy. Instead, you pushed your ass against him, the couch shaking as you gasped into the cushions. 

How many times had you cum? You didn’t know—you’d been too preoccupied with begging him to fill you up, as you were faced down and ass up.

“You’re so slutty, mommy.”

He growled and leaned forward, pressing his chest into your back, all while continuing his brutal pace, hitting that spot that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

Your body jerked forward with each thrust and there was nothing you could do to stop it, to stop him. He was relentless in his need to plant his seed in  you, and it left you helpless to do anything but take it.

His large hand slid from your hip up to your tits, squeezing roughly, before rolling a nipple between his calloused fingers. The sound of your squelching pussy spurred him on, urging him to fill your empty womb to the brim. You didn’t think it was possible, but he somehow managed to fit in another inch.

“Gonna put another baby in you. You’d like that, huh?”

“Hnng I love it. Please, please baby, I want it. Cum in me,” you begged, tears pricking the corner of your eyes from the pleasure. 

Caleb's fingers reached down to your clit, circling your sensitive bundle of nerves that brought you over the edge. As pleasure wracked your body, your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. It didn't help that he continued pumping his hips into you as he rode out his orgasm.

His hand lingered on your stomach, fingers pressing lightly as if he were mapping out his territory. You sighed, sinking into his embrace, completely missing the way his eyes darkened as he flipped you on to your back. 

“Caleb!”

“That’s not my name.”

His lips found your breast, latching onto one of your nipples as his tongue flicked over the hardened peak. His other hand cupped and kneaded your other tit, pinching and fondling just enough to make you arch into him.

“Baby!”

“That’s more like it.”

He smirked against your skin, the warmth of his breath sending another wave of sensation through you. His lips moved from your chest to your neck, your jaw, your cheek, peppering kisses that made you giggle. 

But there was nothing soft about the way he held you.

You didn’t the way he had meticulously designed your life to keep you tethered to him.

The kids, your beautiful babies, were his strongest hold over you. He knew you would never abandon them, and in turn, you would never abandon him. The chores, the cooking, the late nights when they were sick? He took it all upon himself, so you never had to worry.

So you’d never have to imagine what life could be like without him.

He made himself indispensable, carving himself into every aspect of your life until the mere thought of doing anything alone felt impossible.

All you saw was the perfect husband. The devoted father. The man who did everything for you, who loved you so much it was almost overwhelming.

Caleb’s lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile as the sharp chime of his phone interrupted the moment. 

It was time to pick up the kids.

[shaiyasstuff]

glass half full | xavier | drabble

“It was always going to be her, wasn’t it?”

Your voice slipped through the stillness of the apartment, soft but sharp enough to slice through the air between you. It lingered in the hallway like smoke, unshakable.

Xavier stilled.

One foot forward, one hand still holding the edge of the wall. He didn’t turn at first—just stood there, his back to you, silent in a way that felt louder than any answer.

When he finally faced you, his expression was unreadable. Of course it was. He always was.

He parted his lips to speak, but no words came. Just a subtle shift in his jaw—a clench, a twitch. Hesitation.

So you stepped closer. “That’s why you’ve been leaving so often lately,” you said, barely above a whisper.

Another step.

“Why you’re willing to throw yourself into danger without hesitation.”

Another.

“Because you still love her.”

Now, you stood right in front of him. Inches away. Just close enough to feel the way he tensed.

“Then what am I?” you asked.

Your voice was calm, but your eyes betrayed you. You could feel the tears brimming, but you held them back. You wouldn’t let them fall. Not yet.

Xavier didn’t speak. Not even a breath of denial. His gaze didn’t waver, but it didn’t soften either. Still clouds. Still distance.

You pressed again, a whisper cracking at the edge. “Why do you still keep me around, then?”

This time, he flinched.

It was the smallest movement—a flicker in those pale blue eyes.

But you saw it.

You always saw him, even when he tried so hard to be unseen.

You weren’t asking for him to change fate. You knew how cruelly and arbitrarily the universe worked. Knew that some ties were stitched into the soul long before choices ever mattered.

But still. It hurt.

Because you were here. With him.

The one who shared coffee with him at 6 a.m. The one who stitched him up, not from battle wounds, but from the quiet ones no one else saw.

Because you loved him first.

And she didn’t even know.

“…Tell me,” you breathed, and your voice trembled this time.

A final plea slipping through the cracks of you.

His hand lifted halfway, like he meant to reach for you—maybe your cheek, your hand, anything.

But it hung there, suspended in indecision.

Caught between instinct and guilt.

And that—that was what broke you.

Not the silence.

Not the truth.

But the almost.

“I haven’t said anything until now… because I loved you.”

Your voice broke on the last word, cracking like porcelain under too much weight.

It trembled in the quiet, echoing off the walls that had once known softer versions of the two of you.

“I kept hoping,” you whispered, breath catching on a sob, “that maybe… maybe you’d see it.”

Your hand curled into your palm.

“That she doesn’t want you.”

The truth sat heavy in the space between you, too brutal to deny, too cruel to change.

Because she didn’t.

The lady hunter he clung to in silence had already moved on—living out her days in sunlit contentment with your doctor friend, oblivious to the way Xavier watched her like she was a constellation he could never reach.

And you… you had been right here the entire time.

Waiting. Wanting.

Loving him in ways she never would.

His fists clenched at his sides, the knuckles paling as tension rippled through his frame. You had never seen him look smaller, despite the quiet strength he always carried.

“I know,” he said.

Barely audible.

But it landed like thunder.

You stared at him, stunned—not by the confession, but by the ache tucked behind those two simple words. Like he’d been carrying them for a long time. Like they were too heavy to hold, and too late to matter.

You wanted to scream. To ask then why?

Why let you drown in your silence while he chased after a ghost?

But you couldn’t.

Because there was grief in his voice too. Grief that didn’t belong to you.

And maybe that was the cruelest part of all.

He knew.

He chose it anyway.

“I see.”

It came out on a breath, a fragile exhale laced with quiet resignation. A sob followed, muffled as you bit it back, swallowing the rest of your heartbreak.

You stepped past him—slowly, deliberately—shoulder brushing his as you moved toward the door. Your voice barely rose above a whisper.

“I’ll come back for my things.”

That was all you could manage.

No accusations. No pleas.

Just an ending dressed in softness.

But before you reached the door, his hand shot out and caught your wrist.

“Y/N.”

Your name broke in his mouth—softer than you’d ever heard it. Almost reverent. Almost afraid.

You didn’t look back. Not yet.

You couldn’t trust yourself to.

Not when his grip was warm and trembling.

Not when it felt like he meant it, finally.

But meaning it now changed nothing.

His hand was firm around your wrist, but his voice wavered.

Like he was holding on not just to you, but to everything that might vanish the moment you took another step.

You stood there, your back to him, shoulders trembling.

He said your name again—quieter this time. “Y/N… please.”

Please.

The word sounded foreign on his tongue. As if he didn’t know how to ask for things he thought he’d already lost.

“I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” he said, and for once, his tone cracked through the calm. “I didn’t—”

He let go of your wrist like it burned him.

“I kept telling myself… it wasn’t fair to you. That I should pull away. But every time I tried—” His breath hitched. “You made it impossible.”

You turned to him then, tears clinging to your lashes.

His eyes were the color of sorrow, clouded and storm-wrung. “You were always here,” he murmured. “You stayed. Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

You wanted him to say the words. To finally say what he truly felt.

But instead, all he gave you was this—

“I don’t know how to let you go.”

And somehow, that hurt more than if he had.

Because love was never the problem.

Choice was.

“That’s what they all say,” you whispered, voice thin and fraying.

Xavier stood frozen, breath shallow in his chest.

“That you didn’t mean for this to happen. That it just—got out of control.” Your voice began to rise, shaky and sharp. “There’s always a reason. A justification. A story that makes it hurt less—for you.”

The silence between you stretched, brittle and aching.

“She’s my friend, too.”

That part came softer. So soft he almost missed it.

But he didn’t. He heard it.

And it hit him harder than any accusation ever could.

You looked at him then—really looked at him.

Not like someone you loved.

Not like someone you were begging to stay.

You looked at him like someone you were done trying to understand.

“Do you know how stupid that makes me feel?” you asked, voice trembling at the edge of tears. “To be the one to see it? To sit across from both of you and smile like I didn’t feel the air thinning every time you looked at her?”

Xavier’s lips parted, but there was nothing behind them—no defense, no denial.

Just guilt. And grief.

And the realization that maybe the worst thing he ever did… was say nothing at all.

And still, you waited. Not for an apology.

Just for something real.

Something true.

“Say something…”

Your voice cracked—not out of anger, but desperation. A final plea, quiet and trembling, like a hand outstretched in the dark.

Xavier’s gaze flickered, faltered.

His mouth opened—closed—opened again.

But still, nothing came. Just silence.

Just the sound of rain starting to tap against the windows, soft and cruel.

He looked like he was unraveling from the inside out. Like the words were there, tangled somewhere deep in his throat, buried beneath everything he was too late to admit.

“I…” he finally breathed, barely audible. “I thought if I kept my distance, it would go away.”

He laughed, bitterly, at himself. “Not the feeling. Just… the choice. Like if I said nothing, I wasn’t choosing at all.”

His eyes met yours, raw and wrecked.

“But silence is a choice, isn’t it?”

And it was. The worst kind.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to.

He saw the answer in your eyes. In the way your shoulders dropped.

In the way hope quietly slipped out of the room, one breath at a time.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he whispered.

And maybe he didn’t. But he did.

He just didn’t love you enough not to.

“I have to see her,” you choked out between shallow breaths, the sobs rising faster than you could contain them. “Every day… at work.”

Your voice broke entirely then, cracking open like the rest of you. “She looks at me like nothing happened. Like I’m not falling apart every time she says your name.”

You wiped at your face with the back of your hand, but the tears kept falling, hot and relentless. “Do you know how cruel that feels?”

You laughed—a hollow, broken thing. “She doesn’t even know. She doesn’t even know what I’ve lost.”

Xavier took a half-step forward, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to hold you, to anchor you—but he didn’t move further.

Didn’t speak.

And that—again—was the problem.

“She gets to have everything,” you whispered. “She gets your loyalty, your heart, your silence… and she doesn’t even know.”

Your hands clenched at your sides, not in anger, but in helplessness.

“I loved you loudly, Xavier. I was here. I chose you. Every day. Every damn day.”

Your voice collapsed into a whisper.

“And you let me stand in the shadow of someone who wasn’t even looking.”

The door slammed behind you, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

Rain tore through the sky in torrents, drenching you to the bone as you stumbled down the steps and out into the street.

You couldn’t feel the cold.

Couldn’t hear the storm over the sound of your own sobbing breath.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

Not like this.

Your vision blurred—tears and rain indistinguishable. The world moved too fast, too loud, too bright.

You didn’t see the car. Not until it was too late.

The light turned red.

You stepped off the curb.

A horn blared.

Tires screamed.

“Y/N!”

His voice cut through everything.

You turned your head, just enough to see him.

Xavier, sprinting after you, drenched and terrified, hand reaching out like he could will time to stop.

But it didn’t.

The impact was thunderous. A sickening thud.

Your body hit the hood, then the pavement. Hard.

Time fractured. Sound vanished.

Rain fell. Somewhere, people screamed.

Xavier was already on his knees beside you.

“No, no, no—Y/N, stay with me,” he begged, his hands trembling as they hovered above your face, not knowing where to touch without causing more damage.

Your eyes fluttered, unfocused, lips parting with a breath he didn’t know if you could finish.

“Why did you…” you whispered, voice too faint, too broken.

And Xavier—he broke.

“I’m here,” he said. “I’m here, I’ve got you, just—just keep your eyes on me, please—don’t do this.”

But your blood was on his hands now.

And for the first time, silence wasn’t a choice.

It was all that was left.

masterlist

[arcadia-of-pluto]

LADS Headcanons

MC + reader = same person

Word count; 2.7k

Warnings; 18+ content for some parts, but honestly it's not even that bad.

Notes; Hey guys! I felt a bit bad since I haven't been working on...anything. So I decided to whip this up (mostly because I had a Caleb headcanon and I wasn't sure how to get it out there, so they all get headcanons!). Now, keep in mind, these are my headcanons so they're not canon or anything. It's just all in good fun, you know? Sorry if some are shorter than others

Also this isn't proof-read at all so if there's spelling errors and stuff...well, it just shows I'm human! You know?

Caleb

So, as seen in Caleb's 4-star promise card “Deceptive Solitude”, I don't think Caleb and MC would shy away from seeing each other in any state of undress. Spoilers for the card, but she walks into the bathroom while he has a towel slung low on his waist. Water dripped down his bare chest. Neither is embarrassed or shocked. Caleb isn't trying to cover himself up in a panic and MC isn't staring at his bare chest or towel clad lower half. They just have a normal conversation while he's cleaning his gun and looking at each other in the mirror.

Then, a little while later, he stands behind her in front of the mirror, still only in a towel and it's still a calm and domestic moment. No one is nervous or shy, trying to rush to get dressed. It's clear that Caleb has been shirtless in front of her and has probably even walked around in a towel in front of her. So, the same could be said for her.

I think Caleb would be extremely calm if she changed in front of him. It's just a normal thing for them. As long as they have undergarments on or their privates are covered, I don't think they would feel embarrassed or even shy.

That's not to say no one can write Caleb as a shy, blushing dweeb (because he definitely is that), but that's just one of the biggest headcanons I have for him since seeing that card.

Other headcanons would be;

He's a panty sniffer. We all knew this, all assume as much. He volunteers to do the laundry, accidentally touches something wet, and turns out…it's MC's panties that she touched herself in. He doesn't realize this, ends up sniffing his fingers, and he's surprised. The thought of what she did, of what you did, in those panties turns him off and…then he uses them to get off. An additional headcanon would be that he steals any of your brand new panties, gets off in them, making sure to cum all over them, and then washes them for you to wear. He's…breaking them in for you, so to speak.

He gets annoyed whenever anyone else, besides himself, refers to him as your brother. He doesn't want to be known as your brother to anyone. He started acting this way the moment he hit puberty. He's been in love with you this whole time, but isn't sure what his next step is since he doesn't want to ruin the relationship you have. Before the explosion, he tries to keep his jealousy in check. During your school years, most of his fights would be between him and guys who wanted to ask you out – whether they were serious or wanting to ask you out as a joke. He'd fight with them all, but then brush off your concern by saying they were just bullies.

He would most definitely be a virgin. I can't imagine him even wanting to have sex with anyone other than MC. Even just to try it out. Same with kissing. He doesn't seem easily susceptible to peer pressure either, so nothing would be able to tempt him. He would, however, practice. Whether it's kissing apples, pillows, anything of the sort. He'd also more than likely own an onahole (or a pocket pussy), he'd imagine it as MC and experiment a lot with it. He'd finger it, actually fuck it, he would try licking it but he'd prefer the real thing. I also feel he wouldn't enjoy watching porn, he'd rather imagine you in various situations than watch some random get plowed. He wouldn't be extremely kinky, but he'd be up to try anything you wanted to at least once. On days you were away from home for awhile, I feel he'd go to your room and grind his dick on your pillows with a pair of your panties held up to his face. He'd cum all over your pillow case, then quickly wash it once post nut clarity hit and he'd feel a little guilty over it.

He'd always be daydreaming. Whether it be about dating you, proposing, getting married, having specifically one kid. He would only want one and he'd prefer she look like you, so he could have another princess to spoil. He would prefer only one child, because anymore and your attention wouldn't be on him as much…and he doesn't like that thought. He writes down baby names in a journal; alongside your schedule, your likes and dislikes, honeymoon plans, anything you've off-handly said you wanted, anything you've said looked cute, and his biggest plan of all — putting Gran in a care facility.

Caleb doesn't exactly care for Josephine. I mean, I can clearly see why. Sure, she gives him an allowance, but it's clear that she prefers MC over him. He was just a requirement for adopting MC. If she didn't, MC would've never come with her. She didn't go to his graduation, she didn't visit him at the hospital when he was injured. And it makes sense for Caleb not to like her as much. He has all his memories from being experimented on. Sure Josephine wasn't in charge of his tests, but she was still an Ever Researcher, someone can't trust. But he was a child. This was the only way he could protect MC and not be separated from her, so he was willing to do it.

When Caleb sleeps alone, he moves a lot in his sleep. Especially since he's always having nightmares. Sometimes, he'll wake up on the floor with covers tangled around him. However, when he sleeps with you, his nightmares are more manageable. He doesn't care how you both sleep as long as you're in his arms. The moment you're out of his reach, he wakes up and he'll pull you back.

(This is feeling like less of a headcanon post and more of a character dissection 😭 the others won't be as detailed since I'm unsure of how any of them would act in certain situations ;-; )

Sylus

Sylus would also be one who isn't embarrassed or shy about being naked in front of MC – however, I feel, in this case, MC would be the shy and embarrassed one. Sylus isn’t someone she's been around for 10+ years like Caleb, she's only known him for a few months. So if she saw him shirtless or in a towel, she'd definitely try to cover her eyes and blush, shouting at him to ask what his problem is. But if he were injured and shirtless, she wouldn't hesitate to run over and help in any way she can.

This applies to all of the love interests. Even if she's embarrassed from the sight of their chest and abs, the sight of blood would cause her to jump into action.

Sylus would also enjoy watching her from afar. We've seen how he kept an eye on her with Mephisto before they even met, so who's to say he hasn't used Mephisto to spy on her while changing or while she was getting off? Especially after he's met her and she's aware of who he is. MC would be mortified over this since she views Mephisto as a pet and not a highly intelligent robot that happens to be in the shape of a crow, but Sylus would get a good tease out of it.

He's also always keeping an eye on her, which is how he coincidentally shows up everywhere she goes.

She's got a high confidential Hunter's Association meeting? He's somehow in the same building doing a weapons deal.

He loves slotting himself into her every day life, so her co-workers are aware of his existence. Loves teasing MC as she's extremely worried about him getting caught and locked away, when she should instead be worried that she'll be caught with him and be in big trouble for hiding the leader of Onychinus.

He avoids using his right eye on MC because he's worried he'll see any desires that don't include him.

This one is more actually canon, but he sleeps during the day (because most of his work is at night but) so he can keep an eye on MC at night. To make sure her house is safe, among other things, while he does his usual work. He prefers to sleep sitting up with his bedside lamp on. Unless you're in bed with him, then he prefers to cuddle with your front facing him. He never wants to sleep with your back to him, because then he feels like you're mad at him.

Rafayel

He would be so embarrassed to be undressed in front of you that you would forget to be embarrassed. However, his shyness would be gone after the first time. It was just his knee jerk reaction. He was almost worried you'd avoid him if you saw him like that. Even if he's had you in another life, he's nervous he'll never get the chance to do so again. So that’s why he's always hesitant with his actions, and why he's passionate and intense when showing his love.

Since he slumbers on the seafloor, waiting for MC to reincarnate once more, he's not used to having legs so his ankles are a tad bit weaker than a normal person's. He can be clumsy and he walks with a barely noticeable limp. You can definitely tell whenever he's standing up since he never puts all of his weight down fully on one of his feet (I don't remember exactly which one though and I'd hate to be wrong).

He tries to hide his pain, his feelings, by being sarcastic and making jokes all the time. Sure, his jokes can be a tad hurtful at times, but there's never any venom behind them. His optimistic demeanor hides his tidal wave of emotions hidden just under the surface.

He lives by the ocean on Whitesand Bay so he can listen to the seagulls, breathe in the salt from the water, and occasionally go for a swim. Because of this, many fishermen in Linkon will claim they saw a mermaid in the water. It's obviously just Rafayel, but most people would chalk it up to being manatees or a new type of aquatic Wanderer.

He likes to keep an eye on MC from afar, similarly to Sylus. But, since he doesn't have Mephisto, he puts on a disguise and follows her around. Or he'll hire a private investigator to learn about what's going on in his life. (Most of this is canon since he watched over her while he was in college and did a presentation on her campus)

He sleeps on his stomach, face buried in his pillows while his satin shirt rides up his back. While he doesn't prefer to sleep shirtless or naked, he does like having his skin exposed. Always having a foot out from under the covers.

Xavier

Now, I would say Xavier would be embarrassed but who am I kidding? From what any of his steamy 5-stars show, this man would not be embarrassed at all. Instead, he'd revel in the fact that you're embarrassed. He'd tilt his head back and raise an eyebrow as you blushed and struggled to look away.

He absolutely loves to be in control, to toss you around like a rag doll, let everyone know just who you belong to. But then outside of the bedroom, he's the sweetest man alive. Even giving you puppy dog eyes and apologizing if he barely bumps you.

He tends to keep an eye on you through light. Wanting to always make sure you're safe and if any other man gets on his nerves, he will let it be known. He's a very jealous man, and for no reason too. Even if you're in a secure relationship, he'll still get mad at any man hanging around you. No matter how many times you reassure him, he's still upset. Which could be annoying, but I feel like it stems from a lot of different things.

Mainly, whenever Xavier went missing (during his Lightseeker Myth) for over 300-years, Jeremiah was by MC's side the whole time. He can say all he wants about how he wouldn't be mad if she dated someone else, but we know that's bullshit. Though it is odd that he's not as jealous in that life as he is in this current one. Maybe it's because this is his last life with MC and he wants to be her one and only? But with Queen MC, he wasn't as jealous since he knew he could get another MC?

Honestly, not sure. The whole of his Lightseeker Myth kind of bothers me – and i say this as someone who loves Xavier, but Queen MC was done dirty. I feel as if this version of MC is the most miserable, the one who got screwed over the most. Because at least when MC died in her other myths, she died knowing she was loved. At least when the other love interested died in their myths, she knew they cared about her. But in Lightseeker? She went from knight to queen, with no prior training. She was forced into being queen to a planet that was on the brink of death. A dying planet with citizens that she cared for, but with no way to save them or herself. Left all alone, knowing that her best friend left her to travel with Xavier and that Xavier left to find another version of her (while she didn't fully know who he left Philos for, she'd definitely be able to figure this out after he left).

Anyways, rambles aside, I think Xavier is so jealous and clingy because he doesn't want to lose you. He wants to make the most of his time with you and finally have a chance to love you and be with you. Which, in turn, makes him easily excitable when it comes to sex – especially with how his 5-stars are portrayed.

I think Xavier either sleeps like a sick Victorian child on his deathbed (flat on his back, hands on his chest) or he sleeps curled up in a ball. When in bed with you, it's constant cuddles. Usually him curled up against your back, an arm slung over your waist.

Zayne

Zayne is similar to Caleb in the aspect of, MC is rather comfortable around him. Yes, there may be a bit of shyness and hesitation when seeing him in a state of undress, but that would all fade away rather quickly. Internally, Zayne would be embarrassed, but his first priority would be to calm your nerves.

While at Akso for doctor's appointments, he would be professional and curt. He'd do his best not to show favourtism, but if you came in gravely injured, he'd be the first to internally freak out and rush you into the operating room.

He'd be a calm and gentle lover, oftentimes a bit vanilla. Talking you through it. Other times, he can be rather rough (look no further than his 5-star card “Absolute Zeal”). < also, he'd more than likely be a lightweight since he doesn't drink often.

I can't really think of what else to write for him, like I'm honestly not even sure how he would sleep, but I'll still try.

He loves to hold hands. He tends to rub his thumb across the top of your hand and over your knuckles. Tired cuddles are a must with his head resting on yours. Always kissing the crown on your head. His stomach does flips whenever you kiss the scars on his arms. He does his best to stay composed while, on the inside, he's an absolute mess. He loves to play with your hair, always keeping a hair tie in his pocket for when you want to pull your hair up. He could mindlessly braid your hair for hours on end.

Zayne sleeps in a multitude of ways depending on how tired he is or if he needs to be on standby for work. Some days he could fall asleep while sitting up, glasses on with a book open on his lap. Other times, he could sleep on his side or even his back. When he sleeps next to you, he's always got to be holding your hand. He'll hold your hand close to his face while he sleeps, lips brushing against your knuckles with his arm around your waist.

[lotusteabag]

the air smells like spring and something older, something older than memory. older than the bones of this earth.

the field spreads out beneath you like a secret whispered between gods—wide-limbed and unruly, blooming in technicolor. wildflowers sway with the hush of wind through long grass, a palette of golds and blues and purples you can't name, delicate petals trembling on their stems like they know they're being watched.

sylus stands out in it like sin in a prayer.

black against brightness, lean and motionless, arms crossed and head slightly tilted as he surveys the chaos of color you've brought him into. his eyes flicker—not with distaste, no, but with that low, infernal patience he reserves for things he doesn't understand yet. things he deems dangerous, not because they can harm him, but because they can change him. you wonder, briefly, if that includes you.

he doesn't say a word when you dart ahead of him, laughing softly, letting your fingers trail along a row of tall-stemmed blooms. you're barefoot, and there's mud between your toes, and sunlight in your hair. you're ridiculous. you're radiant.

he lets you pull him deeper into the field anyway.

you glance back once—just once—and catch the exact moment his gaze slips. just a fraction. like the weight of this place, the colors, the you of it all, unsettles something long-buried. his lips part, almost imperceptibly. his hands fall to his sides. that perfect posture slackens at the edges, only slightly, like a man bracing for a blow he knows he deserves.

"hold still," you say, plucking something from the tangled grass.

you return to him with mischief sparkling in your eyes and a single red datura in your hand—fierce in its beauty, crimson petals curling like flame. the color of sin. of memory.

he sees it. he sees it. and for a heartbeat, just one, sylus forgets how to wear his face.

his smile falters—not gone, just thinner, like a thread being pulled. his brow twitches. the smug glint in his eyes dims, not with fear, but recognition. the way his jaw tightens is barely appreciable. but you notice, because he's never looked at anything the way he's looking at that flower.

or maybe he's looking at you.

still, he doesn't stop you when you reach up. doesn't recoil when your fingers brush against the side of his face—just above his cheekbone, right where he would've had the skin of a fiend long ago. you tuck the datura behind his ear, tenderly. he could move. he could laugh it off. he could turn the entire field into dust with a blink.

but sylus stays still, breathing shallowly through his nose.

"there," you murmur. "you're part of the bouquet now."

his eyes flick to yours, sharp again—but too late.

you've already seen it. the fracture. the ghost.

still, he plays along. of course he does. he smirks, shifting his weight like it didn't cost him anything to stand still for you. "aren't you afraid it'll poison me?"

"it wouldn't dare," you say with a grin, stepping back to admire your work. "you look too good with it. a little unhinged, maybe. but then again, i probably do, too."

he exhales—not quite a chuckle. something softer. less practiced. his gaze lingers, and this time there's no mask to it. just quiet devastation, expertly hidden behind hooded eyes and a mouth that always says less than it should.

you don't know that a thousand years ago, you kissed him in a field like this. that you pressed your lips to the edge of his horn and gave him his name. that your hand trembled the same way when it reached for his face.

but sylus knows. and he lets you forget. lets you tease him, lets you run circles around him in your sundress and bare feet and laughter like a summer storm.

because this moment—fragile and fleeting—is better than the eternity he spent without you. and because if you placed that flower any higher, you would've touched the place his horn used to be.

and he's not sure he'd survive that.

[sayangrafayel]

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