umamaki - Tumblr blog

umamaki · 4 days ago

Text

A plane fact to remember.

Summary: It started when he gave you a random plane fact, and ended with you a shivering mess in his arms as he bullied your cunt. Calebs random facts had always been a part of your life, but now, it was different.

Pairing: Plane Nerd Caleb x Reader

WC: 1.2k

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY, Mean caleb, a little dumbification, Improper use of evol, orgasm control, edging, cockwarming, light sub/dom vibes, writer doesn't know fuck all about planes so google is my co-writer, fem nicknames, use of pipsqueak

Calebs' Adjutant: @hiqhkey, @mikasaredscarf1 (tag list signup is at the end <3)

N/A: I just discovered this made it onto twitter so hello everyone from there!! Welcome to my small corner of the internet 🥹🩷

It had started innocently enough, leaning on the counter of Caleb's home in Skyhaven. He was making lemonade, chatting easily about your recent missions and his flights – you’d mentioned in passing that he never seemed to complain about turbulence, something that recently had made you nauseous on your long-haul flight. He’d raised an eyebrow at that

“Well, yeah, pips, it's easier to avoid it in a military or private jet. We don’t gotta follow the flight paths and can fly higher to avoid it. It ain’t much of an issue at 40,000ft.”

He laughed, but your eyes widened. It had been years since Caleb had spoken of his interests, his love for planes, and the weird facts he would spurt out. You still remember the first time he had told you planes could easily run on one engine – how that fact made your tiny mind explode. How could something as big as a plane still fly safely with only one engine?!

You missed it, and so, you told him that.

What you didn’t expect was to end up in his lap, his cock pushed between your pussys lips as he made you sit there. You weren’t allowed to move; you knew better than that - no matter how much friction you craved, you just had to take it. His cock felt amazing, it pushed against every nerve in the perfect way, as if just like its owner it knew all the best ways to pleasure you. His nails ran up and down your sides, head tilting with a teasing smirk.

“So plane facts then, let's make this fun, sweetheart. Your gonna sit here, all pretty on my cock and memorise everything I tell you.. if you get my questions right at the end.. ill let you cum. Okay?”

You nodded eagerly, not really thinking about what he was saying – it didn’t matter when he was inside you and not moving. Your mind was already fraying at the edges with pure need, a pure desire to feel him move, and if nodding would make that happen quicker than so be it. You only realised you may have fucked up when he leant back against the couch cushions, hands on your hips.

“Let's see.. Oh, I know. A commercial jet cruises at around 575 miles per hour – that's 75% the speed of light, pips!-“

He spoke quickly, hands slipping off your hips and flying around in the air as he spoke, making movements like a plane moving quickly. The way his eyes lit up and the smile that tugged on his lips were enough to distract you from your need for a moment.

“- it could cross the Atlantic Ocean in about 7 hours! That’s why I can get to Linkon and back so quickly.”

Always the tease, he knew what to say to fluster you and make you smile. He had made a habit of visiting you randomly, and now you knew why; it’s just because he could quickly. Lost in thought, you didn’t notice his hands moving again until they cupped your breasts, tugging on a nipple gently and making you gasp.

“Earth to pipsqueak, I haven’t finished yet. Keep listening.”

A quick nod and he was off again, yet this time, the glint in his eyes seemed more evil than playful.

“Let me tell you about the cockpit then.. You know, we don’t start planes with key fobs like you do cars. We gotta use the ignition control – basically a series of switches. They have 5 positions on them..”

His hands landed on your hips as he smirked

“First is off, like this, yeah?”

You felt him tug you left, dick finally moving – a sharp moan breaking free from your throat at the feeling.

“Then we have left.. and let's not forget right”

You were tugged right before you could recover, mouth falling open in another moan as he laughed cruelly.

“Both..”

He shifted you left and right quickly, pressing against every nerve perfectly. Your clit rubbed against him, leaving a sticky mess in its wake. Neither of you cared enough to stop, he kept shifting you until he spoke again

“and finally start.”

You felt the familiar tingling of his Evol, eyes widening as he lifted you up and down against his length. Sat back against the pillows with his arms crossed and a knowing smirk on his face – you looked blissed out, too far gone from finally getting the stimulation you craved to hear him finish his facts. You whined when his Evol pulled you down sharply again – holding you in place.

“Okay then.. time for Caleb's quiz, sweet girl.”

Your eyes widened as he asked his questions, the first few you got right and he rewarded you. A finger on your clit, stimulating you in a way that felt so good but, just wasn’t enough, he was playing your body like a fiddle. Make you desperate for him and only him.

It was only when you started to mess up that things became.. mean.

“Nuhu, naughty pipsqueak. The temperature drops to negative fifty degrees Celsius not 30. Remember, it’s because the engine compresses air more effectively, burning less fuel.”

His fingers stopped moving as he spoke, eyes hardening. You felt tears threaten to spill as he stopped, the friction you so desperately needed gone – you had been so close. Your orgasm was just a little push away, and now it was torn from your grasp.

“Aww, sweet girl, no, don’t cry. I should have known Pipsqueak can’t answer my questions... always disappointing me.. What should I do about that?”

He changed positions, so you were against the couch, hips moving slowly as he pretended to think. The friction was nice, but not nearly enough, and he knew that. Knew you weren’t getting what you desperately needed, he kept this up for what felt like hours-

“I’ve got it, your gonna take my cock like a good girl and not cum until I say. That’s your punishment, now be good, don’t disappoint me again.”

You heard that warning in his voice, his colonel's tone slipping through as his hips sped up. You had bratted him up once and came without permission. It wasn’t worth it, the punishment that followed, where he denied you his cock for 6 weeks was near on agony. You couldn’t do that again, refused to go through it, so you bit your lip and held your need off.

Your cult clenched and unclenched as he moved, moans spilling from your mouth that was now permanently open. He was impressed, really. Your control had improved so much from the first time you had slept together. He kept thrusting until he was close, until his stomach clenched with need, leaning into your ear, he whispered one command.

“Cum”

You fell apart, crying out his name, tears falling down your cheeks as your release finally spilled from you. He wasn’t far apart, pulling you against his chest as he spilled inside. Neither of you said anything for a long while, his fingers just ran up and down your back, smiling.

“So proud of you.. so proud of you.. That’s my good girl. That’s Caleb’s good girl.”

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated <3

Please don't use my work to train AI :(

Masterlist /Commissions /Request info is HERE

Google Form Tag List

#WHAAAAAAA #🫣🫣🫣🫣#wow wow wow #caleb #.｡.:*✧ fic recs

2K notes · View notes

umamaki · 4 days ago

Text

thank u @oncasette for the tag!! ^_^ this was fun

immunity - clairo

evermore - taylor swift

pure heroine - lorde

atlanta millionaires club - faye webster

being funny in a foreign language - the 1975

three cheers for sweet revenge - my chemical romance

channel orange - frank ocean

no pressure tags! @capitnos @belaceve @sweetcalebb

Tagged by my lil love, @darkaengel thanks for thinking of me 🖤

ʀᴜʟᴇꜱ: you just got a kind of shitty old car and it doesn't have bluetooth. you can only buy 7 CDs and you can't repeat an artist. what are you getting?

In no particular order:

1) Billie Eilish - Hit Me Hard And Soft (!!!!!!!!)

2) Fleetwood Mac - Tango In The Night

3) Jinjer - King Of Everything

4) Chappel Roan - The Rise And Fall Of A Midwest Princess

5) Keane - Hopes And Fears

6) System Of A Down - Toxicity

7) SZA - SOS (and ctrl)

Tagging my beautiful girl @eternal-hum and a few others that spring to mind. Don’t feel obliged!!

@needurattenti0n @espe0nag3-x @morthanix @bvtchw0lfie @sanftes-herz @asslover09 @fuckmachine99 @fading-in-to-you

265 notes · View notes

umamaki · 4 days ago

Text

Let us take a moment to appreciate this art. I looooove when they do this

459 notes · View notes

umamaki · 4 days ago

Text

I FREAKING LOVE THESE QUIZZESSS thank you angiebutt @sweetcalebb for the tag MWAH

No pressure tagging: @oncasette @capitnos @neigepomme

Thanks for the tag @elizabeth-dicewielder 💚 I got a green drink yay XD

Here's the quiz, it's definitely cozy!

Tagging @fernifox @hellnohenry @marlenemckinn @blitheringmcgonagall

1K notes · View notes

umamaki · 4 days ago

Text

you've started something of a mischievous habit.

caleb prides himself in being as useful to you as possible. reaching higher cabinets, opening tight lids, lifting heavy things around without breaking a sweat. and he expects little to nothing in return. just a smile and a puffed out chest with the words 'that's just what boyfriends do!' never failing to leave his lips when you thank him. so you begin to collect data.

kisses and hugs are more than okay. he's eager to receive as many as you're willing to give with flushed ears and sparkling eyes. sometimes it leads to a little more than planned—but when have you ever complained?

small gifts do vary. he will accept handmade ones the most, like bracelets and small charms for his bags and jackets, if you pout hard enough. snacks almost always work. anything expensive makes him kiss your cheek before gently probing you to return it, but not without stating how grateful he was for your love. he didn't need anything physical from you to prove how much you did.

'letting me help you is more than enough for me, okay? i'm supposed to be spending money on you, not the other way around.'

you can't even be mad at him. earnest and wide eyed and cute enough to eat. but what happened next isn't your fault. mostly, anyway.

a little game of sorts forms in the wake of his near refusal to accept anything from you. calling him ridiculous pet names when he does boyfriend-worthy things, ranging from cute—baby, sweetheart, lover—to gag-worthy—hot stuff, snuggle bug, and sergeant sexy—the last of which made him laugh so hard he almost cried.

you're glad he's getting a kick out of it. if finding random things to do for you just to see what awful nickname you come up with next makes him happy, then so be it. but you don't expect the next one to affect him so much.

the action was innocent. he'd noticed your laces were untied while the two of you were out shopping, dropping to his knees the same moment before you could even look down. it makes you smile, reaching down a bit to ruffle his hair a bit, and the way he leans into your touch reminds you of something.

"thank you, puppy," you tease with a laugh, running your hands through his hair before patting his head. you then look up, a snack stand catching your attention, but nearly trip over your boyfriend still rooted to the floor.

"shit, i'm so so—caleb?"

his head is lowered so you can't see his face, but you do see his ears. bright red. his shoulders are bunched up nervously as if he'd short circuited and forgotten how to stand up.

you call his name again, brows furrowed. had he hurt himself? you tentatively crouch down to his level and tilt his head upwards, only to be greeted with a flushed face and shifting eyes.

"do you really see me like that?" he murmurs, nerves radiating off of him in waves. it takes you a while to realize he's not actually upset despite the pout working around his words. "like a dog?"

ohhh. you just barely fight off a laugh and his eyes narrow in comical fashion.

"really? puppy is what got you? not even sergeant sexy?" caleb manages to turn even redder and you can't help your laugh this time, giggling as you cup his face in your hands. his cheeks are warm to the touch. cute.

"it's not a bad thing. you're very dependable and sweet and you look out for me. and you love attention." a kiss to his forehead, then his nose, then both cheeks. he emits a pleased sound, basking in the glow of your attention and immediately puckering out his lips for a kiss there. "seeeee?"

"whatever you say." caleb smiles, happy when he gets the kiss he asked for. "if being a dog lets me be closer to you for the rest of our lives then. i dunno. woof."

that gets another laugh from you, finally standing up as he follows suit. "good boy."

caleb chokes.

#OUHHSHHS PUPPY CALEB YUSSSSS #I CHEERED WITH JOY!!!!#.｡.:*✧ fic recs

1K notes · View notes

umamaki · 6 days ago

Text

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE — HE ALMOST LOSES YOU FOR GOOD

a/n: here's the angst you all voted for <3 i am not entitled to any and all emotional compensation

ZAYNE

The hospital room is sterile. Dim. The kind of place that muffles even time.

Machines beep in soft, steady rhythms, a cruel imitation of life. And in the center of it all, you lie motionless. Bruised and bandaged, wires and tubes snaking from your body like ivy trying to hold you here. Like even the machines are begging you not to let go.

Zayne doesn’t say a word.

He sits by your bedside with his hands clasped tightly around yours, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. There’s dried blood under his fingernails. Not yours. Not his. Someone else’s. It doesn't matter. Nothing does right now except the weak pulse beneath his fingertips and the raspy rise and fall of your chest.

You’d been gone too long on the mission. Comms lost. Then the call came. Injured. Critical. Zayne had made it to the hospital faster than anyone could track his movements. Like some primal force had torn him through the world just to reach you.

He hadn’t let go of your hand since.

He doesn’t blink as he watches your face. There’s no outward panic in his expression — Zayne never shows that — but his jaw is locked so tight it looks like his teeth might crack. His knuckles are white. Every so often, his fingers tremble. He tells himself it’s fatigue. He tells himself it’s nothing.

But inside, he’s cracking.

“You’re stronger than this,” he murmurs. His voice is gravel, low and rough like it hurts to speak. “You’ve survived worse.”

The door opens quietly. A nurse slips in to check your vitals. Zayne doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch. Just keeps holding your hand like if he lets go, you’ll slip through the cracks in the world. Like he’s the only thing tethering you here.

Then everything starts to go wrong.

It begins with a blip. One shrill, high-pitched note that slices through the room.

The machines shriek. Lights flash. Your body arches once, violently, and then collapses like the life is draining from it. Code blue echoes down the hallway as a team rushes in like a tidal wave. Hands everywhere. Orders shouted.

Zayne stands in a heartbeat. But he doesn’t let go.

“Sir, you have to leave—”

“No.” His voice is calm, deadly. Final.

Two nurses try to pry him back. One grabs his shoulder, another his arm. He tightens his grip on your hand like it’s the last lifeline he has.

“She needs space, Zayne!” a doctor yells, panic spiking. “We need to shock — move him!”

And finally, they drag him back.

Zayne stumbles, not because he trips, but because his legs don’t want to leave you. His hand is ripped from yours like tearing velcro from a wound. The doors slam in his face.

And he’s alone.

Alone with nothing but the glass window and the chaos beyond it. He presses both palms to it, leaning forward, forehead against the cold surface. His breath fogs the glass.

"Don’t do this," he whispers, more to himself than to anyone else. "Don’t you dare."

Inside, your body jerks with each charge. CPR. Adrenaline. Voices barking numbers he can’t make sense of. One of the nurses glances at the window and sees him — sees the man who always has it together, now looking like he might fall apart if they lose you.

Zayne’s fists press to the glass. His lips move, no sound comes out.

Then—

The shrill flatline halts. Beeps begin again. Slow, weak… but there.

A pulse.

Zayne’s breath catches so sharply it’s like someone stabbed him with relief. He staggers back half a step before dragging his hand down his face, eyes red, though no tears fall.

The door doesn’t open. No one waves him in. But he sees the doctor nod faintly. You’re alive. Barely.

And that’s all he needs.

Hours pass. Maybe more. They finally let him back in once you’re stabilized. You’re still unconscious, but you’re breathing on your own now. The bruises still paint your skin in sick colors, but your chest rises without machine aid.

Zayne sits beside you again, hands folded in his lap this time, like he doesn’t trust himself to touch you just yet.

��I thought I lost you.” The whisper breaks through the silence, rougher than before. “I never panic. You know that. But when I saw that line go flat...”

His voice breaks.

Just a crack.

But it’s there.

He bows his head, resting it on the edge of the bed, eyes closed. One hand finds yours again, hesitant at first, then firm.

“I can’t do this without you. So don’t you dare make me.”

A moment of silence.

Then — your hand twitches.

It’s small. A flicker. But it’s real.

Zayne jerks up. His eyes dart to your face. And for the first time in what feels like a lifetime… you groan.

Weak. Barely audible.

He releases a shuddering breath, and it almost sounds like a laugh. But it’s wet, broken. He brings your hand to his lips and presses it there for a moment, breathing you in like proof.

You’re not safe yet. It’s still touch and go. But you’re here.

XAVIER

You don’t remember falling.

Not the explosion. Not the heat. Not the way your body hit the earth with a sickening thud.

But you do remember the voice.

“Stay with me. Please — stay…”

You remember that voice breaking in a way you’ve never heard it before. And you remember the warmth of lips pressed to your temple, trembling hands brushing blood and ash from your cheek. The words that tumbled out didn’t sound like him. Not the Xavier you knew — always so reserved, so gentle, so soft in his restraint.

This Xavier? He was on fire.

———

When the other Hunters arrived at the edge of the smoking field, the world had gone too still.

The enemy had been neutralized, but the cost — the cost was crumpled in Xavier’s arms.

Your body was splayed across his lap, your suit torn, chest rising only in shallow, ragged jerks. Blood coated your side — too much of it. Your hand hung limp, fingers curled around nothing. Debris lay scattered like forgotten pieces of a battle that should’ve ended differently.

And Xavier — Xavier was hunched over you like he could shield you from death itself.

“Come on, come on, please — just stay with me,” he whispered, again and again, his forehead pressed to yours, his glasses crooked and fogged. His voice was hoarse, as if he’d been screaming but had run out of air. “You promised you wouldn’t do something like this again. You promised.”

He didn’t notice Jenna approaching until the captain stopped a few feet away, boots crunching softly over broken glass and scorched dirt.

“Xavier.”

No answer.

“Xavier, the med evac is en route. Let me—”

“No.” His arms tightened around you, voice sharp for the first time in hours. “She’s still breathing.”

Xavier didn’t care who saw him now.

He cradled your head in his hand, the pad of his thumb brushing your temple in an endless rhythm like a lifeline. “You’re going to be okay. Just stay awake. Stay with me. You hear me?”

Your body didn’t respond. But your lashes fluttered for half a second, and Xavier choked on a sound that might have been a sob.

“I can’t—” he whispered, voice cracking. “I can’t do this without you.”

His lips brushed your temple again. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it. Again and again. Like a prayer. Like the universe would listen if he just repeated it enough.

“Come back to me. Please.”

It wasn’t a demand. Not even a request.

It was a beg.

And for a man like Xavier — a man who spoke more with his silences than words — to fall apart like this? It shook everyone to their core.

The others quietly made space around him. Not one of them dared interrupt. Because in that moment, there were no ranks, no roles. Just one boy, desperately trying to hold his world together before it slipped from his fingers.

RAFAYEL

You didn’t hesitate.

The moment the sniper’s scope glinted from the rooftop across the gallery, you moved — muscles fueled by instinct, not thought.

The shot rang out.

And you were already there. Between him and the bullet.

The impact knocked you backward into Rafayel’s chest with brutal force. You didn’t even feel the pain at first. Just pressure. Heat. Then cold. Your legs crumpled, and he caught you as you fell.

His hands were around your waist before he even realized why they were wet.

“Hey,” he breathed, looking down.

And then he saw it.

The blood.

Dark, thick, and seeping far too fast through the back of your uniform. His gloves were stained. His fingers trembled.

His heart stopped.

“No — no, no, no—” His voice broke as he sank to the ground with you still in his arms, cradling you like you were something made of porcelain. “You didn’t just — you idiot, why would you—?!”

Your head lolled against his shoulder. You tried to smile.

“Instinct,” you murmured weakly. “It’s… what I do.”

“Not for me.” His voice cracked. “Not for me. Not if it means this.”

You blinked slowly, lashes fluttering like paper-thin wings. “You’re safe. That’s all I… that’s all I need.”

“No, no, don’t say it like that. Don’t say it like we’re done—” His hands gripped your face, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the panic in his movements. “Look at me. Look at me. Don’t you dare look away.”

Your eyes were struggling now. Heavy. Too heavy.

“Raf…” you whispered, voice catching. “You’re… crying…”

He didn’t notice. Or maybe he didn’t care. The tears were falling freely now, carving silent trails down his cheeks. You weren't sure if it was due to the blood loss, but his tears looked ethereal, something akin to pearls.

His breath came in ragged, shallow bursts. His usual poise — gone. His charm — shattered. All that was left was a man breaking open in real time, clutching the person he thought he'd never lose again.

“You don’t get to do this,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours, nose brushing your temple. “You don’t get to leave me again. Not after last time. Not after everything.”

“I’m… sorry…”

“Don’t say sorry. Say you’ll stay.”

You were cold. He could feel it — through the warmth of his body pressed to yours, your skin had gone frighteningly still.

“Say it,” he begged, his voice growing hoarse. “Say you’ll stay. Lie to me if you have to. I’ll take anything. Anything.”

Your hand twitched in his.

Just barely.

And he held on like it was the last real thing in the world.

The were others that arrived seconds later — shouting, movement, chaos. Rough, barked orders. The paramedic's hands on the wound. Thomas' voice trembling as he called for med evac.

But Rafayel never let go. He wouldn’t let go.

Even as they tried to lift you onto the stretcher, he held your hand like it was the only lifeline keeping him from collapsing.

“You stay, you hear me?” he murmured, lips brushing your knuckles. “You’re mine. You’re my light. Don’t you dare take that from me.”

They pulled him back.

He followed the stretcher all the way to the transport, ignoring the blood on his clothes, the way his legs threatened to buckle beneath him.

You had protected him with your life.

And now, he would use his to fight for yours

SYLUS

The lights in the bar were soft and golden, warm against the sound of clinking glasses and smooth jazz that curled through the air like lazy smoke. Sylus was lounging at the booth across from you, a smirk dancing at the edge of his lips, one arm thrown over the back of the booth like he owned the place.

You were laughing at something he said — something teasing and perfectly crafted to make your cheeks warm — when the first shot shattered the glass behind you.

Everything went still.

Then it exploded into chaos.

Screams. Panic. More gunfire. The crowd scattered in a storm of bodies and overturned tables. Sylus was on his feet in a second, hand moving to his holster, eyes scanning with razor focus—

Until he turned and saw you collapse.

Your body hit the floor with a sickening thud, a flash of red blooming against your side.

His mind blanked.

“No — no, no, no — hey!” He was already kneeling beside you, hands trembling as they hovered over your wound. Blood seeped fast through your shirt, hot and slick against his skin. “Damn it, this isn’t funny. Get up.”

You blinked slowly, pain blooming in every nerve, and tried to smile. “Guess I… ruined the mood, huh?”

“Shut up,” he snapped — only his voice cracked halfway through, sharp and raw. “Don’t joke like that.”

His usual arrogance, that swagger, the way he always acted like the world bent to his will — it was gone. Torn away like your breath was from your lungs.

You reached for him, your hand barely lifting before it dropped again.

“Sylus…”

He scooped you into his arms in one clean motion, ignoring the pain that flared in his knees as he pushed off the floor. His grip was tight — too tight — but he didn’t care. You were bleeding. Your breath was shallow. And you were too damn still.

“Stay with me,” he said, voice low but frantic, slipping through gritted teeth. “You don’t get to leave me here, not now. We aren’t supposed to end like this.”

Your head lulled against his shoulder. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t you dare say sorry,” he growled. “Save your breath. You can apologize when you’re yelling at me again tomorrow.”

The remaining attackers were either down or retreating. Luke and Kieran were clearing the room. But Sylus didn’t look at them. Didn’t ask for help. He carried you through the smoke and broken glass like you were the only thing anchoring him to reality.

Blood soaked through his shirt, warm against his chest. His jaw clenched so tight it ached. His signature smirk — now a ghost.

“I should’ve seen it coming,” he murmured, forehead brushing yours. “I let my guard down. I let you down.”

“Don’t say that…” you whispered.

“Why not?” he hissed. “I’m always talking. Always running my mouth like nothing can touch me. Like nothing touches you. But look at you. Look at you.”

Your eyes fluttered. “Still…handsome, though.”

A broken sound escaped him — half laugh, half sob.

“Of course you’d say that now.”

You were slipping again. He could feel it.

“No,” he said, firmer this time, the weight in his voice shaking with each syllable. “You listen to me. You are not going out like this. Not in some second-rate ambush at a bar I don’t even like. You owe me a better ending than this.”

Your breathing was faltering.

And Sylus’s heart was plummeting with every stuttering beat.

“Don’t make me beg,” he whispered, trembling now. “Don’t make me— please. I’ll give you anything. Everything. Just open your eyes.”

As soon as his body was through the familiar doors of his apartment, Sylus collapsed onto the floor, hands gripping your skin so tight it left imprints — a physical manifestation of just how close he was to teetering off the edge.

"Sweetie, please," he rasped, fingers desperately — blindly — for the rhythmic beat just under your jaw, a sign that you were still here, still with him.

Then came guttural noise that came out his mouth when he finally found it.

You were alive. Barely. But alive all the same.

CALEB

He had lost people before.

That was the reality of command. Of war. Of the Farspace Fleet.

Caleb had saluted coffins, sent letters to families, given orders that cost lives. He had smiled through the ache, cracked jokes at funerals to keep others from crying, swallowed guilt like medicine that never worked.

But not you.

He was never supposed to lose you.

———

The report came in during a skirmish.

It was brief. Incomplete. Chaotic.

“Alpha Team down. Casualties unknown—[static]—one Hunter critically injured. Confirmed ID: [static]—[Your Name].”

He stopped breathing.

The world blurred around him. Voices, orders, lights — they faded into background noise. All he heard was your name and the word critically.

He was running before he realized it. Shouting. Pushing past medical teams. Hands trembling as he shoved through the infirmary doors and—

There you were. Unmoving. Broken.

Hooked to machines that breathed for you, pale against the stark white sheets, red still seeping through the bandages wrapped around your torso.

Caleb froze.

It felt like the floor had vanished beneath him.

“Colonel.” A medic’s voice. “You shouldn’t be here—”

“Don’t.”

His tone cut through the air like a blade. The medic stopped mid-sentence.

Caleb stepped forward, slow, like every inch was agony. He reached for your hand, then stopped, hovering.

You looked… gone.

“Hey,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Hey, Pipsqueak. What the hell is this, huh?”

He sat beside your bed, hands finally closing around yours.

“You’re not allowed to go before I do,” he said, trying to smile — but his voice cracked. “That’s the deal. I get the cool, tragic hero exit, and you get to roll your eyes and talk about how dramatic I am at my own funeral.”

No answer. Just the quiet beep of your heart monitor.

Caleb let out a shaky breath. “You always made fun of me for being too sentimental. Said I wear my heart too loud. Maybe that’s true. But it’s yours. Always been yours.”

Tears welled in his eyes before he could stop them.

And this time, he didn’t.

“You should’ve seen me when the call came in. I broke rank. I barked orders like a lunatic. I left my post. They’re probably writing up the paperwork for insubordination right now.”

He laughed — sharp, broken.

Then silence.

A long, still silence that stretched until it hurt.

He squeezed your hand harder.

“I’ve lost good soldiers,” he whispered. “Too many. But you weren’t just another name in my report. You weren’t just a Hunter. You’re…”

His voice faltered again. His lips parted, trying to shape the truth, but it hurt too much.

“You’re my heart.”

A soft tremor ran through his shoulders. He dropped his forehead to your hand, clutching it like it could keep him from unraveling.

“You can’t do this to me. I wasn’t ready. I’m not ready to lose you. I’ll never be ready.”

He didn’t know how long he stayed there—murmuring, begging, slipping confessions into the spaces between your breaths. Time didn’t exist in that room. Only fear. Only grief.

Only you.

Then—

A twitch.

Barely perceptible. But his breath hitched.

He looked up fast, wide-eyed. “Hey… hey, was that—?”

Your eyelids fluttered.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he whispered, voice catching like a prayer. “Come back to me. Just a little more.”

Your lips parted. A small sound escaped. A rasp. Not a word, but it was you.

Caleb exhaled a shuddering breath, a tear sliding down his cheek, one hand flying to brush your hair back from your face. “That’s it. You’re here. I’ve got you.”

You blinked up at him slowly. “C-Caleb…?”

He laughed — wet and breathless — and pressed your knuckles to his lips.

“Yeah, Pips. I’m here. And I’m not letting go.”

He didn’t care that he was crying. That he looked like a man torn in half and barely stitched together by hope.

You were alive.

And that was all he needed.

#NOOOO #raf's “not for me” omg im ill #reliving his myth...#FREE YOU MY GOAT #.｡.:*✧ fic recs

3K notes · View notes

umamaki · 6 days ago

Text

plot: when you're about to argue but you're so pretty that his brain short circuits (all lads men)

rafayel:

when your phone rang early this morning while you were on your morning jog with a panicked rafayel on the line, you knew what he was calling about. yesterday while you were visiting rafyel’s studio, you found it in disarray. paint, brushes and a variety of different papers littered any and all surfaces. you usually asked rafayel when you throw away scraps in his studio, but this time the clutter was driving you mad that you just threw away anything in sight that looked like garbage.

“hey– sorry to call you so early in the morning. did you or thomas clean my studio yesterday? there was this sketch somewhere around here with a bunch of colors and scribbles for my exhibits that’s coming up and now I can’t find it–” busted. you heard the ruffling of papers through the phone as he frantically searched for it. the guilt washed over you as you tried to formulate what to say.

“i– i’m actually pretty close by. let me come over and help you find it.” he sighed in relief as felt like his drawing was saved.

“thanks, i’ll see you soon.” it was your turn to sigh as you continued your jog (now sprint) over to rafayel’s studio. you might as well use this time to try and figure out ways for him to forgive you.

you stood in front of the gate for a moment, chewing your thumb out of nervous habit before pushing through. you knew rafayel wouldn’t be mad at you, but just the fact you set back his work upset you.

upon entering, rafayel’s back was to you. one hand was in his hair, the other on his hip as if he was trying to retrace all his steps. but before your brain could even register, you just blurted out the truth.

“raf, i threw away the sketch– i’m so sorry! i was in here yesterday and the clutter was driving me insane! i couldn’t even get through here so i just grabbed things that looked like garbage and threw it away–” you had your eyes squeezed tight, not even wanting to see the potentially frustrated expression he was wearing. but when no response came, you peaked through your right eye to see that he was only blushing behind his own hand.

it didn’t register that you were wearing your workout clothes– a matching set that hugged your body, well everywhere. the top you had on was a fitted cropped quarter zip jacket and unbeknownst to you on your sprint over, it had unzipped all the way– your cleavage on full display. though your hair was tucked under a cap, the way it clung to your face and chest from your sweat didn’t go unnoticed by rafayel.

you couldn’t help but bite back a smile as you saw the tips of his ears go red. you decided you were going to use this to your advantage. inching closer to him, you clasped your hands behind your back which only pushed your chest out further. he weakly held up his forearm as he looked away trying to get ahold of any working brain cells, but he showed no resistance once your chest made contact. you rested your chin on top of his arm, looking up innocently at him.

“i’m sorry raf.. could you forgive me? i’ll clear my schedule and help you come up with another draft…” you spoke just above a whisper, afraid he’ll explode if you spoke any louder. a long (shakey) sigh escaped his lips along with what you interpreted as “you’ll be the death of me i swear…”

he fully turned toward you, one hand on your shoulder as the other one zipped your jacket all the way up to your neck. he cleared his throat as he cupped your cheeks together, swiftly kissing your pursed lips.

“you better keep your promise, cutie! we have a lot of work to do.”

zayne:

you did one last swipe of lipstick as you checked yourself in the mirror. you and zayne were going to an event hosted by akso, but zayne made it clear that there was a stritch one hour limit to say your pleasantries and then go home. sometimes these gatherings were entertaining but oftentimes they were grueling to sit through, even for zayne.

you stood up from your vanity, turning your body from side to side making sure that your dress was sitting in all the right places. gold embellishments hung from your ears and neck bringing the look all together. but in the midst of your review, you heard a series of ruffling and mumbling coming from the kitchen followed by your name. you reached over to open the door and called out to him.

“what was that, love?”

“did you eat the fruit tart in the fridge?” you froze in your spot. you totally forgot that tart was his and you had it with your lunch this afternoon. you zoomed out to the kitchen to see zayne looking into an empty pastry box and a dejected expression like you took candy from a baby.

“zayne– i’m so sorry i forgot that you said you wanted it and– .. i ate it” he slowly shifted his gaze from the empty box to you across the counter. your eyebrows were downturned and there was a big frown on your face. zayne always looked forward to having a sweet treat before these events, it was his reward for mustering up the courage to go. you should’ve known to save it for him, but your hunger got the best of you.

you rounded the corner of the counter, taking his hands in yours. your eyes on the verge of tears, as you continued on apologizing but all zayne could hear was blah blah blah proper name, place name, backstory stuff– your perfume, citrusy and sweet, enveloped him like a trap. with your eyelids sparkly, your lips all plumped and your hair pulled back to expose your shoulders, he couldn’t even comprehend your apology.

“okay, zayne?” he blinked once, only now registering that you’ve been talking to him the whole time. the blush immediately grazed his cheeks and ears as he looked away from you.

“it’s okay.. i forgive you.” he pulled you in by the waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck and taking a deep breath, letting the notes of your perfume be his treat until he was able to get one later. your fingers reached up to scratch the nape of his neck as you turned to kiss his cheek, not even noticing.

“i’ll buy you whatever you want from the bakery tomorrow, i promise”

caleb:

“you did what?!” you screeched to gideon over the phone.

“look, i didn’t have a choice okay? caleb can be very persuasive with that evol of his. i’m sorry but i didn’t want to lose my fingers” a big sigh left your lips as you ran your fingers through your hair. you had been taking some secretive pilot lessons with gideon to try and impress caleb on your next flight lesson, but you bit off a little more than you could chew and ended up with a big bruise on your abdomen.

“no, i get it. it was only a matter of time before he found out anyway. thanks though for holding out as long as you did.” you lifted up caleb’s shirt to take a look at your little accident. it was about the size of a grapefruit with hues of yellow, purple and blue painting your skin.

“no, me and my fingers thank you for being understanding. but you know the drill kid, ice and heat every 15 minutes.”

“yeah, yeah, yeah. you sound like–” before you could even say his name, you heard the clattering of the locks.

“gotta go, the colonel is in.” you quickly hung up the phone, looking around the bathroom for places to hide and decided the closet was your best option. you pulled the door shut, trying to close it as silently as possible upon hearing his footsteps approaching.

“pipsqueak.” not a question of where you were, but a known fact. you didn’t answer, choosing to ride this out for as long as you can.

“you can’t hide from me. you left your phone on the counter and the hallway smells like your shampoo.” damn his obsessive nature (and your stupidity thinking you could ever hide from him in his own place).

you held your breath as your eyes snapped to the handle. he was right in front of the door. there was a pause and.. nothing. his footsteps slowly faded to where the shower was, swiftly pulling the curtain back to expose an empty tub.

“come out, come out pips. i won’t be mad, i just want to see.” liar. you got the smallest scratch on your face from a mission and he wouldn’t let you hear the end of it for weeks.

there was no use in hiding anymore. you turned the handle, but didn’t open it all the way. he reached his fingers through the gap and opened the door to find you looking like a dog with its tail between its legs– looking down at the ground, arms guarding your mid section. caleb cautiously took you by your hands and pulled you out of the closet.

“let me see it.” he gently requested. you huffed as you carefully lifted up the shirt to reveal the bruise. he let out a distressed noise, quickly ridding himself of his gloves before his bare fingers grazed your skin.

“i’m fine caleb, it’s not even that bad–”

“not that bad?!” he exploded like a volcano that was waiting to erupt.

“pips, you have a bruise the size of a meteor on your stomach and it’s darkening by the second! what did you even do?” he took the shirt between his fingers, pulling it up even higher to inspect for any more damage. it was then that he realized that you were only in your bra and underwear with just his long sleeve to cover up. he took his moment to take you all in as he effortlessly towered over you.

hair wet, smelling like apples, in a matching set, in his clothes.. brain go brrrrr….

he didn’t know if it was his chip kicking in or his brain malfunctioning, but thank god you were looking away from him. he felt the blush spread throughout his face, every inkling of scolding you fading by the second

he cleared his throat, gently letting his shirt fall back into place as he gingerly wrapped his hands behind your back, pulling you close. burying his face in the hair, he let the scent of you calm him down. he just hated seeing you hurt, especially if there was a mark or bruise to show for it.

“i’m sorry. i was only trying to impress you for our next flying lesson and then the weather suddenly changed and then the throttle did a thing–and i got launched into the control panel and..” you admitted embarrassingly. he laughed as he pulled away, taking your cheeks into his hands.

“okay, okay. just next time please be careful. we don’t want you getting a bionic arm or anything–”

“CALEB!”

xavier:

exhaustion was oozing off xavier the moment he stepped into your apartment. his footsteps were dragging, shoulders hunched over, with a severe lack of motivation to keep his eyes open. it was a series of: lack of sleep, fighting off more wanders than he could even count and then doing that over and over again for the past week. his back and body hurt and all he wanted to do was lay down and sleep for a week undisturbed.

he ridded himself of his uniform, begrudgingly forced himself to shower, dried off his hair and plopped so hard on the bed it skirted and hit the wall. as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was already in his rem cycle, letting sleep take him for however long sleep would have him.

though he was a valiant hunter, he knew that your place was safe. so if he felt a bump or a shift in the bed, he knew it was only you. though he wasn’t expecting you so soon. even with his eyes closed counting sheep, he was able to feel you crawl over his body. your hair tickled his collar bones as you leaned down to shower him in kisses. from his neck, cheeks, forehead, with a final blow to the lips, he didn’t budge. he wanted sleep and so he was going to have it (even if it meant hearing from you later) but you didn’t relent.

you continued to lay kisses all over him, knowing that he’s done this to you before when you wanted to sleep but he wanted you to get up. you wanted his attention and much like xavier, you were going to have it. you held his face in your hands, laying loud kiss after loud kiss, trying to pull him out of dreamland but to no avail. you huffed as you sat your tush on his stomach. you moved his face from side to side before resorting to squishing his cheeks together.

there was a slight twitch in his eyebrows signifying to you that he was slowly waking up, which resulted in you poking and prodding his face. after several minutes of working like a cat clocked in at the biscuit making factory, he let out one final groan before his eyes barely opened.

“there he is.” you said sweetly. he huffed, turning to the side while covering his face to try and avoid your advances.

“no he is not…” you took that as a challenge, now wrestling with him to lay on his back. when xavier was asleep, he was like a log. with much resistance, he flopped on his back while you pinned his wrists above his head. he peeled his eyes open, ready to let you have it only to find you with your hair all disheveled, the top buttons of your pajama shirt all undone and askew with the faintest wash of pink over your cheeks.

“i just wanted some kisses and snuggles…” you admitted as you let go of his wrists. a sigh of defeat left his lips.

“well if you say it like that, of course i can’t be mad at you.” a giggle left your lips as he wrapped his arms and legs around you. it was his turn to shower you in kisses which you happily received. when the shower was over, you laid ontop of him with your face buried in his neck.

“i’m sorry i disturbed your sleep.. you can go back now. i promise i won’t wake you until tomorrow.” he nuzzled his cheek into your head, already mumbling a bunch of nothings into your ear.

“i love you too, honey.”

sylus:

“i said no.” sylus was being unreasonable. all you wanted to do was join him on an ‘auction’ to help him out. he had been stressed about it all week– skipped meals, jaw clenched in his (lack of) sleep, dark bags under his eyes– you haven’t seen him this stressed in a while.

“why not? you know that it would be easier with me there and i want to go, so why no–” he held up his hand to you, too focused on the papers in front of him to even look you in the eye.

“my decision is final. it’s too dangerous, i wouldn’t even go if it wasn’t a necessity.” you knew that he was only looking out for your safety, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. if he wasn’t going to willingly take you, guess it was time to take matters into your own hands. you didn’t utter another word, choosing to leave his office in silent rage.

once he knew you were out of sight, he heaved a deep sigh. he could feel the pounding headache coming on. removing his glasses, he leaned back onto his chair while squeezing the bridge of his nose. he was already trying to think of ways to make it up to you, though this one would be tough.

—

it was a few quiet days in the N109 zone. you decided to keep your interactions with sylus to a minimum, only greeting him the times he came to bed or when he came to dinner. he chose to respect that distance, trying to make the most out of the times you did give him the time of day. he couldn’t wait to get this mission over and done with.

then came the day of his departure. you weren’t petty enough to not send him off, especially on dangerous missions such as this one. the last thing that you always handed off was his leather jacket. you had done it the first few missions he went on, and from there it kinda stuck. send offs never felt right without it. as he loaded the last suitcase, you stood behind him with his coat.

he leaned in and gave your forehead a kiss.

“i’ll be back soon, kitten.” he mumbled the words into your temple. you offered him a soft smile before holding up his jacket. he swiftly dropped his arms into the sleeves, pulling it over his shoulders, now counting down the minutes until he could be back.

“i love you, get back safe.” you waved off him and the twins as you watched the car went off into the distance.

“you won’t have to wait long, dear.”

—

shit.

this was bad.

sylus knew it was going to be, but he hoped just a little that it wouldn’t be. removed the hand from his abdomen to check if the bleeding had stopped, but surely enough his hand was covered in his crimson red blood. he leaned against a wall, knowing that the twins wouldn’t be here another 30 minutes. he knew his regenerative powers could kick in soon, but he was sorely outnumbered. he heard footsteps behind him and what sounded like a “he’s in here!” and just as he was about to set his guns ablaze, he heard a few shots coming from that same hallway. he squinted his eyes as he concentrated on the commotion.

‘one… two…..three.. four down. who?? they’re not supposed to be there for ano–’ the door swung open and upon instinct, sylus swiftly held up his gun to the intruder ready to shoot. he never hesitated in his life, but something was telling him to do otherwise. his fierce eyes met your intense ones in the same position. you both retracted your weapons before sylus pulled you through the doorway, crashing your back against his chest.

“how many are left?” he leaned down and whispered.

“ten. five in the front and five in the back. the twins should be able to handle them. i took out all the ones in here for now.” for a second he breathed out a sigh of relief, leaning against you. sylus would’ve made it out, but certainly not in the best of conditions.

“why are you here?”

“i think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’” he rolled his eyes, turning you around to take you in. stunning, as always. your hair was a bit disheveled, straps fallen down to your shoulders and your dress was torn around the edges, but in this moonlight he was utterly captivated by you. all his anger and many of the words that he had for you suddenly flew out the window. he tugged your straps gently back up to your shoulders before giving you a kiss.

“i’ll deal with you when we get back.” you basked in his presence for mere seconds before smelling the copper in the air. you stepped back to examine him before your eyes landed on his hand. he showed no resistance showing you his wound, knowing that you were right and he was caught. a heavy sigh left your lips. you knew he would be back to himself in no time, but it reminded you that he wasn’t all that invisible.

“still think you don’t need me?” sylus chuckled as his face made its way into the crook of your neck, arms snaking around your waist. he took in one long inhale.

“... you changed your perfume.. that’s why i couldn’t tell you were here.” you laughed breathlessly into ear, but not before you heard more footsteps coming in from the hallway. you both tensed, trying to remain as silent as possible. he tapped two of his fingers on your left side signalling that’s where he was headed. but before you could move, he noticed a shadow coming from the window. he pulled you down, letting off a few rounds towards the window. it was seconds before all hell broke loose once again.

luckily you both were able to fend off the second wave until the twins got there. when it was all said and done, you two were able to make it out with a few bumps and bruises, you’ve definitely done worse. the car ride back was silent as you were taping up sylus’ arm. you knew he was angry at you, now having to be in pain because you didn’t listen to him.

“i don’t regret coming.” he wiped off some dried blood from your cheek, now his turn to tape up your wounds.

“i know you don’t.” the conversation settled back into a comfortable silence. he started by dabbing some ointment on your scratches.

“... and thank you.. for saving my ass back there.”

#so stinking cute #.｡.:*✧ fic recs

4K notes · View notes