colonel's worm @ephemeraleb - Tumblr Blog

HIS LOVE IS IN YOUR HEAD…

SYPNOSIS: caleb x non!mc, except x is a bit of a stretch. snippet of a much larger fic to come

“Is your wife always so…uptight?” You heard MC mumble.

You don’t know how you found it in yourself to stay out of Caleb’s business until now. Perhaps it was the blinding trust you had for this man, the strong, reliable colonel who had graciously married you, who had signed your marriage certificate with empty eyes. But deep down, you always knew.

From the day you came home from the courthouse, there has always been three in the spaces you occupied with your husband, three at the alter (you wondered if Caleb had imagined it was MC standing in your place on your wedding day), three in the bed (you could even imagine MC lying in empty space inbetween you and Caleb as you slept, and three at the table (at first before Caleb had learnt more about you, the dishes he served were all reminecent of MC’s favourites). You knew MC haunted, haunts, your marriage. But like any good wife, you looked the other way and hoped for the best.

That is, until now.

With your back pressed against the cold marble wall, you listened on to the conversation that Caleb was holding with MC in your living room, after an awkward dinner party to which Caleb had invited MC and her husband, Zayne, to attend.

“No, she’s just…” You heard your husband began, an awkward silence stretching over the expanse of MC’s living room.

I’m just what, Caleb?

“…she’s just emotional, that’s all.”

You heard MC snort. “Emotional? Hardly. I seem to remember that at your wedding, she was ever so meek and crittery, so nervous, so deferent, so grateful to marry the big strong colonel…” She sighed, “And I thought that, y’know, hey! She might do a lot of good for you. She’s like a squeaky mouse, just like another version of me, how I was your ‘pipsqueak’…” Her voice suddenly dropped to a whine.

“I thought maybe you found a better replacement.”

You heard sounds that indicated that Caleb stepped forwards to hug her.

“MC…nothing and nobody could ever replace you.” Caleb said gently, tightening his embrace.

They were silent for a long time. Tears had began to bead in your eyes.

“Well…on that happy note…” MC mumbled, her lips splitting into a wide smile, one hand coming to rest on her stomach, the other intertwining with Caleb’s.

“I have some interesting news for you.”

#caleb🍎

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

sugarplumpearl

Synopsis: Frat!Caleb gets turned on seeing you eat a lollipop

Frat!Caleb x Innocent!Reader

Warnings: frat!Caleb, mean!Caleb, blowjob, innocent!reader, Caleb's mind is in the gutter 24/7, manhandling, size difference, dom/sub undertones, spitting, nicknames (honey, good girl), slight aftercare, lemme know if I missed anything!

Series Masterlist

#caleb🍎

xxfrozenpearlsxx

Well, when I said this request would be controversial, I wasn't kidding. So, here goes.

May I request: Non-MC knows her marriage with Caleb is over when he requests (read: demands) that she let MC have his first child.

okay i actually had a lot of fun writing this one cuz i was writing fluff and smut all day and this angst just hit PERFECTLY 🙂‍↕️ thank you for leaving this request, it was such a breath of fresh air and got my brain all excited for it!! hopefully i didn't misunderstand your request and you'll enjoy it! ♡ p.s. not proofread

⋆. — content warnings: heavy angst, no comfort, cheating, infidelity, marriage falling apart, unrequited love, self-deception, caleb loves mc & is married to non!mc/reader

The kettle was still whistling when he said it.

You’d been pouring tea, that ridiculous oolong he’d bought you for your birthday last year, the one in the tin with the gold lettering, and your hand was steady on the handle and the steam was rising and Caleb was sitting at the kitchen island with his sleeves pushed up and his forearms resting on the marble and he said it the way someone might mention the weather.

So fucking casual, you almost couldn’t believe your ears.

“I need you to let her carry the first.”

You poured the tea.

It was important, somehow, to finish pouring the tea. The amber liquid filled the cup. Steam curled. Your hand did not shake. Whose first, your brain offered politely, because your brain was being kind to you, was buying you time, was pretending it didn’t already know.

You set the kettle down.

“Whose first what?”

Caleb didn’t look at you. That was the first thing you noticed, focusing on that instead of how your stomach turned involuntarily. He looked at his hands, at the marble, at the soft fold of his rolled sleeve. Anywhere but at you. Caleb who could meet anyone’s eye through anything, Caleb who’d talked you down through three panic attacks and held your stare during all of them, was looking at the countertop like the answer was etched into it.

“My first child,” he said quietly. “I need it to be hers.”

The cup was hot. You only noticed because your fingers were still wrapped around it. You were going to burn yourself if you didn’t let go. So you let go. You set it down on the saucer almost too carefully, and watched your own hand do this, like your hand belonged to a stranger, like you were watching a film of someone receiving the worst news of their life and being very polite about it.

Oh, you thought.

Oh, of course.

It was strange how fast the rest of you caught up. How the body knew. Your stomach was already cold. Your ears were already ringing. There was an ache low in your chest, somewhere beneath your ribs, like something with weight had just settled there permanently.

You felt sick.

“Caleb.” Your voice was flat. You were proud of your voice. “We’ve been married for two years.”

“I know.”

“We were going to start trying in spring.”

“I know.”

“You said—” and here it almost cracked, you caught it just in time, “—you said you wanted a little girl with my eyes.”

A long silence. He still wasn’t looking at you. His jaw was working in that small, controlled way that meant he was holding something back, and the worst part was that you knew he was holding back something gentle. Some softening. Some apology. He was going to try to make this kind, and you were going to have to sit there and let him, and it was going to be the most violent thing that had ever happened to you.

“It has to be hers first,” his words hit bullseye straight into your heart, finally. “You understand.”

You did, actually. That was the obscene part. You’d always understood.

You’d known the day he proposed.

He’d done it sweetly. He’d done it on the balcony of the apartment you used to rent together, with a ring he’d had resized twice to make sure it fit, and he’d said all the right things, I want to build a life with you, you make me steadier, I love you, I love you, I love you, and you’d cried and said yes and meant it. You meant it with your whole chest, tears ruining your makeup, but they were happy tears, because you’ve wanted the same life for so, so long.

Then his phone buzzed twice in his pocket while he was on one knee, and you’d watched his eyes flicker, just for a second, just for less than a second, and you’d known.

You’d known and you’d said yes anyway.

Because she hadn’t said yes to him. Because she’d never said yes to him. Because Caleb had been in love with her since they were children, and she’d chosen someone else, several someone elses if the rumors were accurate, and Caleb had needed somewhere to put all of that ruined devotion, and you had been right there, kind and patient and so stupidly in love with him that you’d opened your hands and said give it to me, I’ll hold it for you.

You’d thought, in the deluded little corner of your heart you didn’t show anyone, that maybe if you held it long enough it would become yours.

It never did.

You’d seen it. That was the thing you would have to admit to yourself now, in the unflinching light of the present nightmare staring you dead in the eye. You had seen it every time, and you had decided every time not to see it.

You’d seen it at your engagement dinner, when his phone lit up across the table and he had glanced down for a fraction of a second too long, his thumb hovering over the screen before he turned the phone face down as if he wasn’t dying to pick it up and run to her. You had not asked whose name was on it. You hadn’t needed to, really.

You’d seen it the night she came to your housewarming. She’d hugged Caleb hello, a polite hug, a friendly hug, exactly the kind of hug an old friend gives, and Caleb’s hand had landed at the small of her back in a way it had never landed at yours. Light. Familiar. Cherished, loving, as if he waited lifetimes to hug her exactly like that.

You had watched it from across the room with a glass of wine in your hand and you had smiled at someone’s joke. Whose joke, you couldn’t remember.

You’d seen it every time her name came up at dinner. The way he stopped chewing for a beat. The way his shoulders would set themselves before he answered, oh, she’s fine, she’s traveling, I haven’t seen her in a while, careful and casual, the cadence of a man speaking around a hot coal in his mouth.

You’d seen the gift he kept in the back of his desk drawer, wrapped in pale blue paper, never given. You’d found it once, while looking for some tape. You had not asked who it was for. You had closed the drawer very gently and walked away and told yourself, fiercely, it could be for anyone. It could be for one of his friends. It could be for a colleague. It could be for—

It could be for anyone but you. That was the truth. You had known that even then.

You had built a marriage on top of every one of those moments. You had laid bricks over them, paved them over, planted gardens above them. And every so often the ground would tremble and you would pretend it had not, and you would pour another glass of wine and tell yourself you were imagining things.

You had not been imagining things. But lies were much easier to swallow than the humiliating truth.

“How long?” you heard yourself say.

He looked up at last, purple eyes finding your hollow ones. His eyes were red-rimmed. That, somehow, was the cruelest part. He was upset. He was upset on your behalf, he was sorry, he genuinely felt terrible, and that was so much worse than if he’d been cold about it. A cold man you could have hated cleanly. A man who cried while ruining your life had to be loved through it, and you didn’t have the strength.

“It’s not—it isn’t what you think,” he started. Oh, but you knew. Still, you let him explain, let him feed you sweet lies, hollow words, words he had served you time and time again throughout your whole marriage. You let him every single time.

“How long, Caleb?”

“Six weeks ago.” he sighed in resignation, “We didn’t—it was once. She came to me about—it doesn’t matter. It was once.”

The word hit your body before your brain caught up. Once.

You had braced, somewhere in the back of yourself, for the slow betrayal. For the years of unspoken longing. For the leftover heart you had married. You had made peace with that, deep down in your currently breaking, fragile heart. You had told yourself, he doesn’t act on it. That’s the thing that matters. He chose me with his life, even if he didn’t choose me with his heart.

You had not braced for once.

For the literal, physical once. For his hands on her. For whatever night it had been, and your mind was already searching, already flipping through your shared calendar like a desperate librarian, and the version of him that had come home afterwards. Had he kissed your forehead good night with her still on his skin? Had he made you breakfast the next morning? Had he held you, three weeks ago, when you cried about something stupid at work, his palm steady on your back, with the memory of her warmth still in his mouth?

Your stomach folded in on itself.

You set your hand flat on the marble to steady yourself. The marble was cool. The cup was still steaming. Caleb’s eyes were red and puffy across the island, and you wanted very suddenly to throw the kettle through the kitchen window just to hear something break that wasn’t you.

“And she’s pregnant,” you supplied the answer for him. Your voice was a thing operating without you. It was not your voice. You hated it.

“Not yet.” he swallowed. “She wants to be. She’ll only consider it if—” he stopped. Coward.

“If I’m out of the way.” you hated your own voice, hated the hollowness of it. Hated how the words kept pouring out of you, unable to stop saying and imagining the worst.

“If you—” he closed his eyes. “If you give us your blessing.”

You laughed.

You didn’t mean to. It came out of you like something physical and unwelcomed, like a thing dislodged, and Caleb flinched at the sound of it, which made you laugh harder, your hand finding the edge of the counter for balance because the kitchen was tilting, your whole life was tilting, and somewhere in the back of your throat the laugh was already turning into something else.

Blessing. He wanted your blessing. He wanted you to bake them a cake. He wanted you to be gracious, to be the bigger person, to perform the dignified exit of a woman who had always understood she was the placeholder.

It was the demanding of it that finally lit something in you.

Not asking for permission or pleading for forgiveness or understanding. Demanding, in that quiet, reasonable voice, like a surgeon explaining a procedure you did not have the right to refuse. He had thought it through. He had decided this was the kind path. He had cast you, in the script of this conversation, as someone gracious enough to step aside, because the version of you who lived in his head had always been someone gracious enough to step aside. The wife who understood. The wife who was grown-up about it.

Of course he thought you would say yes. You had said yes to everything. You had been saying yes to less than you deserved for two years, and he had taken it, and now he was assuming, with the easy confidence of a man who had never once been told no by you, that you would say yes to this too.

The audacity of it rose into your throat like smoke.

You thought of the morning, six months ago, when he’d brought you breakfast in bed because you’d had a fever, and he’d sat on the edge of the mattress and pushed your hair back and said, I don’t know what I’d do without you, and you had believed him.

You thought of him, two months ago, going still at the sound of her name on someone’s phone in a restaurant, and how he had ordered another bottle of wine and pretended not to have heard.

You thought of the spare bedroom you’d been quietly redecorating in soft yellow, because he wanted a little girl with your eyes, and he had said the words out loud, and you had built a future on them.

“Get out,” your mouth moved before the feeling could catch up. Voice dull, scraped clean of anything soft.

“Sweetheart—”

“Don’t.” Your voice was very quiet. You barely recognized it. “Don’t sweetheart me. Don’t you dare, Caleb.”

He hesitated, like he wanted to say something else, like there was a version of this where he could thread the needle and keep some part of you, and you looked at him through it all and saw the moment he understood that there wasn’t.

He went to the door, and you thought he would leave without saying more. It would have been too kind, so he paused with his hand on the frame.

“I do love you,” the confession left his lips, but it only made your heart break faster, “I want you to know that I—I do.”

“I know.”

You did know. That was the thing. He did love you. He had loved you in the secondhand, leftover way that men love the women they marry when they cannot have the women they want. He had loved you sincerely and he had loved you less, and you had taken less because less was more than nothing, and you had told yourself it would be enough.

The door closed behind him.

You stood in the kitchen with the tea you would never drink and the ring you would not be wearing by morning, and you finally, finally let yourself feel it.

It rose up out of you in one long, silent wave. It wasn’t a sob, you felt too hollow to accept that, you still clung to your last drop of control. But it was present nonetheless, the terrible understanding that you had spent two years of your life building a loving home for a man who had been waiting, the entire time, for someone else to come back for him.

For her.

The tea went cold on the counter.

You did not move for a long time.

🏷️: @young-adult-summer, @aiycnlyme

🔗 - comment to be added to the taglist for future fics

ephemeraleb

what the fuck

#caleb🍎

kamieow

mr brightside. ౨ৎ caleb x non!mc reader teaser. (0.9k) content warning : light angst. full sypnosis.

— ACT 1: COMING OUT OF MY CAGE / AND I’VE BEEN DOING JUST FINE

…that’s a bold-faced lie, really. you’ve been anything but fine ever since that day. but it’s just been easier to bury it than admit the truth.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved Caleb. The thing is, the very obvious fact is, he doesn’t love you back.

He said it right to your face a few years ago, and you can still picture your wretched confession as if it were yesterday. There are several things that you vividly remember, and none of them were pretty. First of all, you recall the look on his face – you didn’t know if it was pity, disgust, or some twisted and disheartening mix of both (and to this day, you still don’t know). And then there was the fake smile plastered across your face as your heart bore the brunt of your unfortunate rejection. The painfully chipper “It’s okay, Caleb!” and your feigned nonchalance that starkly contrasted the tears that dampened your pillow that night after replaying his words over and over.

That was definitely the worst part. Those words that will haunt you for the rest of your life and will certainly echo once you marry someone else – someone who’s definitely not Caleb, but would have to do their best to fill the tragically Caleb-shaped hollow pit within your heart. His words, which will hang above you the same way that the wedding arbor will on your fateful day, filled with nothing but rue and a wish that things had ended differently:

“You don’t know what you want. Don’t talk about this ever again.”

#caleb🍎

xiayizhou04

✦ big bro caleb copping a feel ☆ smut [cw] incest

“You’re so gross, gege.”

You bat his hand away when you feel his fingers reach under your skirt from behind you. The mall is packed today, filled with others browsing and looking for something to buy.

“No panties?” Caleb trails after you, hand slipping under again. His fingers trail up to your hips, feeling the waistband. “Hm… let me guess. Your red lace ones with the bow.”

“Stop touching me,” you hiss, mortified that he knows which pair you’re wearing just by touch alone. “Wait ‘till we get home. I haven’t found the shirt I wanted yet and you said you’d let me stay as long as I wanted today.”

“I know, I know, don’t throw a fit,” he hums, hand settling to rest against your hip. “What, I can’t touch my girlfriend?”

“Sister,” you correct. “We’re in public. Stop acting weird, what if someone like Gideon sees us?”

Caleb shrugs, not bothering to answer as he follows you towards another store.

You go through the racks, humming to yourself as you browse the colourful array of clothing. Suspicious of the silence behind you, you turn to look behind you.

“…Caleb,” you whine. The cold case of his phone brushes your inner thigh, unshamefully keeping you still by your waist when he realizes he's been caught. As you squirm, he repositions his phone under your skirt to take another picture of the fabric pressing against your plump folds. “You pervert…”

Caleb quickly pockets his phone with a smile as he looks down at you with innocent eyes. "What? I was just adjusting your skirt. It looked crooked." He reaches out to 'fix' your non-existent wrinkles, his fingers deliberately brushing against your skin.

You feel your face heat up, embarrassed that he took a picture in such a crowded store with shoppers just feet away. "Delete it. Now." Your voice comes out breathier than intended, which only makes his smile widen.

His arms wrap around your wrist, tugging you closer to press your back against his chest. “I have a better idea.”

#caleb🍎

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

heartyluv

✰ it’s complicated…

cw: toxicbabydaddy!caleb/fem!reader, you two have no business being together, him getting jealous, mention of getting you pregnant again, he’s lowkey manipulative, you do in fact love this man (if you squint)

#caleb🍎

pearlescenthoney

spare

synopsis. you'd do anything for the man you love. and the person he loves.

pairing. friend! caleb xia x non-mc! reader

content. fem!reader, non-mc!reader, mc, caleb and reader are friends, unrequited love (but not really), reader assumes caleb and mc love each other romantically, a ton of ANGST, hurt/no comfort, dumbass plot tbh but hehe, ever, lots of blood, self-deprication, low self-esteem, reader has the mimicry evol, hunter!reader, injured!reader, reckless!reader lowkey, love confession, TW: GUNS, TW: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

word count. 2.2k

a/n. can you tell how much i wanted to write a reader with a mimicry evol? VERY VERY MUCH. i am sorry in advance for causing you all pain. please let me know your thoughts! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!

imagine begging caleb to let you go on that mission. imagine cupping his hands in your own, squeezing them tightly, as you assured him that nothing bad would happen to you.

that this mission could end everything between mc and ever.

that she will be free of their unceasing hunt.

that he will be free of worrying at every step if she was alive or not.

and that you, as their best friend, would not pass this chance at all, no matter how much he refused.

#caleb🍎

bloodabi

a/n: reader is mentioned explicitly several times to not have a brother. sorry if you've got one. also reader is shorter than caleb by quite a bit, id say.

recently i've been consumed by the thought of an isekai'd caleb. he watched you die to a wanderer attack and couldn't live with the grief. instead of trying to heal and move on with his life, he went looking for you in the deepspace tunnel. after a year or so of searching, he found you again in another parallel universe. he packed all his important documents, a bunch of cash, and a few daily essentials, then made his trip through deepspace.

you had been out with friends that day, laughing leisurely when a man came up to you. this was not just any man, however. it was the spitting image of your favorite love interest from an otome game. you were bewildered as to why a cosplayer would suddenly come up to you. then he spoke. you'd know that voice anywhere. that was the in-game voice of caleb. when he asked to speak with you privately, you turned to your friends and let them know you'll only be a moment.

now pulled aside and out of earshot from your friends, he's candid with you.

"i finally found you."

"huh?"

"i came through the deepspace tunnel. the version of you in my timeline..." he let the sentence hang for a moment before he shook his head.

"what matters is that i'm here. i found you."

he seems so genuine. it would appear to you that a cosplayer in the depths of delusion has been stalking you. there's no other explanation.

"look, i don't know who you are, or how you even know i like love and deepspace, but this isn't funny."

"you don't know me?"

"i mean, you're caleb from the video game i play. it's a good cosplay, i'll give you that. but no, i don't know you."

"video game?" now he looks more confused than you do.

"i'm your brother."

"i don't have a brother." with that, it looks like his heart has torn in half.

"we grew up together. i know everything about you."

"try me."

the man in front of you then spells out an obscure childhood memory, one you've never relayed to a friend or posted online. the only difference he describes is that he was there to see it.

you still, mouth slightly agape at what he's proven to you. you still feel skeptical, however, but there's a few easy fixes. you know there's parts of caleb impossible to recreate in cosplay.

you grab your phone flashlight and pull him down to your level by his shirt collar, shining the light in his eyes. his eyes, purple and orange like a sunset, react. his pupil contracts with the light and the iris around it expands. he's not wearing contacts.

"catch my phone with your evol." you say very quickly before throwing your phone at his face. he freezes it midair. your jaw drops before you quickly snatch your phone again.

"what are you doing?"

"you're real." this was life changing. your favorite otome boy is real and in front of you and in love with you. he came from space to see you.

"that's what i've been trying to tell you."

you're barely listening, opening your phone to pull up the only caleb you actually know. you shove the screen in his face.

"this is my caleb. he's from a dating game."

he looks at the pixel version of himself, then at you, then back again.

"dating game? i'm from a dating game in your universe?"

"yes. you're my favorite one in the game, too."

you see him turn red. you remember that him and pixel-you never really had that conversation in the game. ah. he's not used to your direct romantic attention.

while you try to explain the plot of the game to him and relate how insane this is for you, caleb watches you and realizes a few things.

firstly, he wasn't here to take care of you before. you didn't have a big brother that was cooking dinner for you. god, were you eating properly? who was making sure you didn't stay up too late? who was sending you reminder texts to eat breakfast? he bet your room was mess. when was the last time you did laundry? were you letting your wet hair air dry after the shower since he wasn't here to blow dry it for you? god, you must get sick all the time then. how could life be so cruel to you?

secondly, he came from a dating game. he's a love interest in a game where you romance him. you said he's your favorite. this just opened so many doors for him. here, you're not bound by your forbidden love, seeing as you said you don't have a brother. he can just have you. and you want him, or at least, want this pixel version of him in your phone. he's elated. he practically walking on air. it's hard to listen to all the information you're throwing at him with how the blood is rushing into his ears at the thought of finally having you to himself romantically.

"so what now?" you ask him, after finishing your long-winded explanation.

"have you eaten yet? i can cook your favorite."

#caleb🍎

rambld

݁˖𝜗ৎ golden boy caleb who regrets having a girlfriend when he meets you | 18+

pairing: caleb xia x non!mc

contains: cheating accusations, pierced caleb, secondhand embarrassment, unprotected sex, caleb has piercings

words: 9.3k (sorry)

note: inspired by this, this and also this

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　

Xia Yizhou, who prefers being called Caleb, is a young man who requires no introduction. Excellence is expected from him by his professors, his team trusts him to lead them to victory on the court and classmates wordlessly plead for him to carry group projects. He juggles sports, academics and socializing without breaking a sweat, making it look so easy to lead a balanced life.

Magnetic, they call him, with the way he draws everyone in with that effortless charm, well-placed confidence and compassion.

“XYZ” is what he's known as on the court—his swift and precise maneuvers ensure that he always finishes what he starts like the last three letters of the alphabet. He's the face of the basketball program if not the entire institution.

He's the guy who deserves to be popular. Ever ready to help by holding open doors, sifting through papers during office hours, spreading awareness with his influence about campaigns running in the social committee, gives back to the community. He knows many by their names, never letting them feel insignificant.

#caleb🍎

kamieow

─ LOVER, YOU SHOULD'VE COME OVER.

FEATURING: caleb/xia yizhou x non!mc female reader

where you get injured during a paired hunter’s association mission with mc. when you realize she’s hurt too, you keep quiet about your own condition and turn all your strength towards getting her to safety, because caleb needs her alive. because she has always been caleb’s first priority. because caleb’s entire life has been tailored around keeping her safe.

because, maybe, in another life, caleb would have chosen you. but in this one, you already know better.

CONTENT: 5.1k words, ANGST (i am warning you), ALLLL hurt VERY LITTLE comfort (this is your second warning), toxic dependency and kind of a savior complex on reader’s end, slight gore and body horror, profanity, blood, injuries, arguments, childhood!bestfriend caleb and non!mc character study, literary themes, mc is your partner in the association

NOTE: this is based on jeff buckley’s heart-wrenching song: lover, you should have come over (go listen as you read 😚) . ALSO if you’ve read a tale of two cities by charles dickens, i was highly inspired by sydney carton and lucie manette when writing reader and caleb’s relationship — so NOTE that reader is the ultimate yearnmaxxer. she has a savior complex and depends on caleb like sydney is towards lucie so their relationship is NOT MEANT TO BE HEALTHY!!!!! plz heed that warning before reading!!!!

masterlist

IT’S NEVER OVER / ALL MY BLOOD FOR THE SWEETNESS OF HER LAUGHTER / IT’S NEVER OVER / SHE IS THE TEAR THAT HANGS INSIDE MY SOUL, FOREVER.

The poet writing out your life taught you very early on that you were never first when it comes to Caleb.

ephemeraleb

yaowch.... jeff buckley and caleb should never be found tgt

#caleb🍎

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

cherryscript

I GOT DAT DUMB D’

𐚁 featuring𓂃 succubus!reader x himbo!caleb

𐚁 COMMISSION FROM𓂃 @theeidare <3

𐚁 summary𓂃 You are a thirsty succubus who moves in with the world’s biggest, dumbest himbo golden retriever named Caleb after your feeding ground, the frathouse shuts down. You try every filthy trick in the book to drain him dry… but he just keeps offering you protein shakes, warm bear hugs, and calling you “pipsqueak” while blushing like a virgin at prom. Turns out the only thing that actually works is accidentally falling stupidly in love with him. Whoops.

𐚁 wc𓂃 8.2k (because I'm my biggest enemy)

𐚁 content warnings𓂃 explicit smut, ooc caleb, he's just a big dumb guy (with a horse dick), age-gap? (if you squint) , corruption kink, mention of killing in the past (reader's a succubus bruh), teasing-flashing-flirting, Caleb is oblivious, somno, dubcon, falling in love, monsterfucking, monster physical descriptions, caleb is scared-aroused, deepthroating, hornpulling during oral (m! receiving), sizequeen!reader, pinv, he's drunk into you, cervix fucking, belly bulge, mention of draining life force/energy, evil!reader, anal (demon tail tip in his ass🥀), excessive cumming, confessions, happy ending, happy tears....idk what else . . .18+ ★ MINORS DNI !

𐚁 cherry’s note𓂃 yes, I went overboard with this commission because personally, i really liked the idea. I put my whole cherryussy into this. Himbo Caleb my love. He's so ooc here but who cares— live love laugh himbos! If you've read a Caleb fic with same tittle then don't worry, that's mine too, I just couldn't figure out a better name for it lol. My brain is actually so overstimulated after finishing this fic i should sleep it off.

Life used to be scrumptiously simple.

After losing your way back home to the demon realm centuries ago, you'd blended seamlessly among the humans—charming, seducing, occasionally devouring your way through whatever corner of the mortal world caught your fancy. Living among them wasn't always the richest feeding ground; most people tasted thin, distracted, half-alive with stress and screens. But that frat house? The Sigma boys' residency? That two-story beast of peeling paint, perpetual bass, and testosterone-thick air was your personal all-you-can-eat buffet.

Hunks left and right—twenty-something jocks with broad shoulders, cocky grins, and even bigger egos (and dicks) who knew exactly how to hit it from the back. Lord, you were feasting.

Every weekend followed the same divine routine. You'd hide your horns and tail beneath flawless glamour, slip between the drunken, sweaty bodies in something skimpy that barely held your tempting curves together. The music pounded like a heartbeat; the lights strobed low and forgiving. You never had to wait, never walked away hungry. A few batted lashes, a dirty-innocent little smile, or a breathy "Bet you could handle me" against a hot ear was enough to drive those boys feral.

You'd change your name every night—Jess, Mia, Raven, whatever slipped off their tongues easiest—and let them think they were in control. They'd rail you on every available surface: against the kitchen counter while the party raged downstairs, bent over the pool table in the basement, sprawled across some stranger's unmade bed upstairs. You'd moan and arch your back, giving them the illusion of dominance, while you drank. Deep, greedy pulls of their life force—hot, thick, tasting like cheap beer, adrenaline, and raw, stupid youth. Some nights one was enough. Others, when the hunger clawed harder, you'd take two at once, stuffing yourself full in both holes, sucking the life straight out of their dicks while they grunted and shuddered and collapsed like broken toys.

You'd mutter a soft "oopsie" under your breath, lick the last sweet traces from your lips, and saunter out into daylight glowing, sated, tail flicking lazily beneath your glamour. They'd wake up the next morning groggy, drained, chalking it up to "one hell of a blackout," barely remembering your face

You didn't always kill them. Only when you were truly ravenous did you drink too deep, leaving them pale and still on sweat-soaked sheets. But you couldn't bring yourself to care. They asked for it anyway—begged, even—with their wandering hands and hungry mouths. You were just giving them what they wanted, and taking what you needed.

Then it all shattered.

Neighbors finally had enough of the constant noise, the half-naked girls stumbling onto the porch at dawn, the occasional thump of a body hitting the floor a little too hard. Complaints piled up. Local police showed up one Saturday night with lights flashing, warrants in hand. Doors kicked in at 3 a.m., red solo cups scattering like confetti, someone screaming in the bathroom about a bad trip. They found the bodies—the ones you'd gone too far on—hidden under laundry piles or in closets like forgotten secrets.

Investigation. Headlines. The house shut down for good. Evictions. Suspensions. Chaos.

Your buffet vanished overnight.

#caleb🍎

faesuns

wondering how desperate caleb gets when MC's away and he just can't stop thinking about all the ways he wants to fuck her.

its just a week or two, he reminds himself. he should be used to this, after all, work and duties keeps both of you relentlessly busy. but then he finds himself leaning against the wall of your room, your panties clutched between his fingers and held up to his nose as his cock drools precum in his right hand, aching to be in your sweet, warm cunt.

shit, he wasn't good at waiting for you. he can't help but groan as his thumb brushes over the slit of his pink tip, just imagining the absolutely filthy way your pretty lips would tease him. and the way your eyes would become so big and round as he used your throat like his personal fleshlight, fingers wrapping around your neck to feel each languid thrust into your mouth.

another stroke and he's hunching over, cheeks flushed red and sweat lining on his forehead, eyes dilated. he takes another long inhale of your panties, his mouth watering up from the underlying sweet yet musky scent, wishing his nose were buried in your dripping folds instead. he can imagine all the noises you'd make if he had you right now. the way you'd let out such a pretty whimper when he sucks your clit with just the right pressure, or the moan that would slip from your lips as he slipped his fingers into your leaky cunt, drooling all over his mouth.

and the way you would squirm so perfectly under him. he couldn't help but moan, throwing his head back as he bit his lower lip, just thinking about slowly sinking into you. he'd fuck you so good, he can't help but groan out loud, his breathy voice echoing in the empty room along with the wet squelches of his cock in his hand. maybe he'd take you slowly, watch as you beg underneath him to go faster or a lil harder, and the way he'd tease you with his soft words, asking you to be patient, to let him indulge. and after he's got you begging for him he'll give in, watching your body shudder as each hard thrust hits that special spot, his hand slowly pressing down on your lower stomach that has you tearing up from pleasure. oh, he'd love to see you cry on his cock for him, from how good he makes you feel. talk you through it and watch as you scrambled for a response, too drunk on pleasure to even talk coherently. he'd lick away your tears and whisper sweet nothings into your ear as his cock drags against your gummy walls relentlessly.

he's so close, his hands moving faster on his throbbing cock, biting down harder on his lip as he nears the edge. you'd let him cum anywhere, he thinks to himself, his breath catching as he imagines cumming inside of your sweet pussy. the thought of filling you up has him shuddering, just imagining the way his cum would slowly drool out of your pussy once he was done, and fuck it was hot. a choked moan escapes his lips as he feels himself cumming, eyes closing shut as his hand slows on his cock, thick white ropes of cum painting his toned abdomen. he stands there for a few moments, recovering his breath as he looks down at the mess he made on himself. the image of your tongue running against his skin, licking it all away with that look in your eyes, flashes across his mind, his cock stirring again.

a desperate sigh leaves his lips as he sags against the wall, looking at your panties still bunched up in his hand. he wasn't going to last another day without seeing you, he thinks.

desperate and yearning caleb oh the things i would do for you... and to you.

anyways hope u guys enjoyed this filthy drabble ^^

#caleb🍎

heartyluv

caleb/reader → mdni contains: rough sex, you get fucked in a chokehold, semi-public?, tinge of caleb being jealous & possessive, he threatens to put a baby in you 1x *not proofread! forgive me lolll*

bestfriend'sbrother!caleb who wishes you didn’t want to hide your relationship but lets it slide (for now), understanding your anxiety around telling his sister who you’ve been keeping the secret from. you never intended to fall in love with him, but how could you resist when it was so easy to do? the last thing you wanted was to be forced to pick between your closest friend and her brother who makes your mind, body, and soul thrive.

bestfriend'sbrother!caleb is obsessed with you and does whatever he can (that you allow, admittedly. he’s such a simp lollll) to subtly express that you're his woman. it just makes him feel better. from the apple and fighter jet themed designs you get on your nails that he pays for to the glittery C keychain that dangles on your purse 24/7, it's a form of ownership that he's proud to see you sport.

bestfriend'sbrother!caleb who doesn't quite get the memo sometimes that people truly do not know you're together. so when his sister introduces you to a guy from work during her birthday party and you're way too fucking polite, accepting his phone number in the guise of interest and smiling at some lame ass joke, he's genuinely surprised by his restraint as he helplessly watches the entire interaction from across the room.

bestfriend'sbrother!caleb who can't let you go thinking for too long that he was unphased by what he witnessed. when you finally separate from everyone at some point to use the bathroom upstairs, he sneakily follows you after a carefully timed two minutes and forty-three seconds with quite a lot to get off his chest.

bestfriend'sbrother!caleb wouldn't say a word at first after he made his way inside in the midst of you washing your hands, quickly turning the wide space into a shoe box with his large and imposing stature. your explanation for why you seemed to be entertaining that dude never gets to see the light of day when the click of the lock behind him echos, already sealing your fate.

bestfriend'sbrother!caleb who has your dress flipped up and your panties at your ankles in seconds as he bends you over the sink and stuffs you full of his thick cock. you knew he saw everything, knew he'd get like this, knew he'd confront you. that's why your greedy pussy was so soaked and eager to squeeze him inside.

you wanna be a brat and push your luck in his face? then he doesn't give a damn about the volume of slapping skin, your pitchy choked moans, or the tears inked by your mascara that fall down your cheeks from how overwhelmingly good he feels within your tight walls. his forearm is curled with the perfect amount of pressure around your throat, chest pressed to your back, and he’s rutting into your dripping cunt with a message he seeks to ingrain inside and out.

you're both leaking with so much that it trails down your thighs, leaving a sticky mess that clings to his heavy balls before landing on the tile floor. he wishes you would try and clean up his hard work when he's finished. seriously, he wants you to. it'll give him a reason to leave you with even more when he puts it back where it belongs.

bestfriend'sbrother!caleb would make you look in the mirror at your flushed face, nearly ripping the material of your dress when he forces it down along with your bra so you two can watch your tits jump with every punishing thrust.

"look at yourself," he grunts, slamming into you roughly as you begin to drool. "you belong to me, yeah? yeah, you do. alllll mine. so keep fucking playin', pips. i’ll fucking ruin you, leave you with a baby to make sure it clicks if i have to. that's what you want? that’s the way we’re telling everybody?”

he's not pushing you too far nor is he being too cruel. because like the filthy girl he knows you to be, you arch your back despite the discomfort in shameless desperation for more and squeeze his bicep like an anchor. with a broken mewl, you beg, "hah, i w-want it ‘leb… harder... p-please..”

in that moment, it seems like you really are ready for everyone to know and hear who owns you. the erotic squelching when he fucks his cum deep for the first time tonight proves it and is more than enough motivation for him to fulfill that unspoken request..

A/N: not tagging my baes because i don't wanna annoy anyone since i justtt posted yesterday. idk if this is any good or if it makes sense, but it was really fun to write and “decorate” (i am just a girl), pretty quick, and i wanted to share soooo bad since it’s been on my noggin for like two days so yeah!!

creds to @/saradika-graphics for the button divider, @/cafekitsune for the mdni/reblog banner, & @/asiatic-apple for the username banner!

#caleb🍎

pearlescenthoney

operational waste | one.

synopsis. caleb made a mistake when interpreting the anonymous threatening note, and so did you in thinking you can change a code-backed destiny.

pairing. caleb xia x isekai’d! non-mc! reader

content. fem!reader, non-mc!reader, isekai’d!reader, reincarnation!au, unrequited love (?), a ton of angst, slowburn (caleb’s not really here), hurt/no comfort (?), maybe ooc!caleb, caleb doesn’t know you’re isekai’d, TW: EVER, TW: allusion to TORTURE, medical malpractice, degradation (the ever guy mocks you), evil plan incoming, self-deprication, low self-esteem, TW: allusion to CAR ACCIDENT.

word count. 5.1k

a/n. i finally got around proofreading this! sadly i had to divide it into two (or more) parts. thanks to @hajimeowmeow and the brilliant prompt that generated all this! i hope you all enjoy my take on this. please let me know your thoughts! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

the rain in skyhaven was a particular kind of mournful. it didn’t fall so much as it seeped, a constant, misty drizzle that blurred the neon signs into weeping watercolor smears against the grim sky. from your apartment window, you watched it paint the world in shades of grey, a perfect mirror to the hollow ache that had taken up permanent residence in your chest.

your fingers traced the cold glass, following the path of a single, stubborn drop. it was the same path your tears had taken three weeks ago.

three weeks since caleb had left.

#caleb🍎

satorhime

˚. ౿ 🌸 OBSESSION ﾉ xia caleb x female reader ៹ college au, jock caleb, established relationship, caleb is a little off his rocker, so is reader, silly little crack fic, caleb wears his gfs panties, that's the fic. i wrote this idea rewatching john tucker must die at 2am last night so this is not proofread ˓˓ WORD COUNT ᨀ 1.7k ish !

caleb is grossly, irrevocably, indescribably whipped for you. he’d live inside of your skin if he could find a way to make it happen. carve out an itty bitty home for himself underneath your ribcage and set up shop near your heart where he could keep it safe. you know it. your friends know it. his teammates definitely know it. hell, everybody on skyhaven university’s campus knows that caleb xia, captain and star point guard of the basketball team, is pathetically gone for his darling girl.

you’re a steady, constant presence in the gym even when you’re not physically there. your pastel bunny bag charm swings from the zipper of caleb’s duffel bag. your initials are stitched into the wristbands he wears on game day. and he can’t, for the life of him, stop bringing you up in conversations. “my girl makes the best spicy noodles,” he’ll gush when someone mentions food, or, “gotta call my baby, she’s probably missing me right now,” before he facetimes you in the middle of pregame workouts. can anyone really blame the guy? you’re the most precious thing on campus and he’s convinced your smile alone can solve the global warming crisis.

caleb’s friends all think it’s a phase, their captain’s first real relationship. they figure he’ll get it out of his system in a few months and grow tired of you after a night out around even prettier girls with sweet eyes just for him. but they have no idea.

no one understands just how far gone caleb is until the day he bends over to tie the laces of his basketball shoes during a quick break and his low-slung shorts end up riding down just a fraction.

and there it is.

a delicate strip of strawberry cream lace, stretched across the sharp cut of his hipbones. a stunned hush falls over the basketball court, broken only by the slow dribble of a forgotten ball that bounces down the court.

“dude,” caleb’s best friend, gideon, chokes out, “what the fuck is that?”

ephemeraleb

SO CUTE

#caleb🍎

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

big brain idea: caleb x non!mc reader except you call him gege (or your language’s version of “big brother”) and ruin his life

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

“thanks, gege.”

just like that. tossed over the shoulder. said in passing. you keep walking. caleb does not.

he blinks. once. twice.

gege?

it echoes. it loops. it sets up a camp in his head and refuses to leave. his brain short-circuits in increasingly unhealthy and unholy ways.

was it teasing? was it unconscious?

do you know what that does to him??

he hasn't been called that in a very, very long time. not since things shifted. that title belongs to a version of him he’s tried very hard to put away.

it’s a title he absolutely should not react to.

and yet.

because it lands somewhere warm and humiliatingly alive. because his body reacts before his pride can catch up, because something in him lights up at the sound of it, traitorous and undeniable.

he spends the rest of the day hyperaware of your voice, your distance, the way you don’t even realize you've wrecked him. every time you speak, he’s braced for it again. but when you don't say it again, he’s almost disappointed.

later, much later, he finally manages, very casually—

“you, uh. earlier. what you called me.”

you look up. innocent. deadly.

“oh. gege?”

and caleb is gone. absolutely gone. internally combusting.

you smile, small and confused, and he realizes with horror that you have no idea.

which somehow makes it worse.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌︶ ⏝ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ⏝ ︶﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

thank god the east has endearments like gege some people will NEVER understand how flirty slash attractive those honorifics are when used in certain settings (yes i'm talking about those woke ppl on twitter) 🫩

#caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x you #lads x reader #lads #love and deepspace #lads x you #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #caleb x non!mc reader #caleb xia #caleb fic #caleb headcanons #caleb drabble

chanelrolls

YOU

pairing. caleb x afab!reader

synopsis. maybe the problem isn't the stalker, maybe it's the one being stalked.

tags. nsfw, modern college au, strong yandere themes, dead dove, dubcon, obsession, stalking, killing, violence, manipulation, slowburn, plot-based, sexual tension, a bit of one-sided pining, somnophilia, depraved!caleb, yearning!caleb, detached!reader, m!masturbating, heavy make outs, fingering, p in v, reverse cowgirl, backshots, rough sex, strictly 18+

a/n. this is incredibly long and perhaps a lot to take in, i got carried away and did too much effort on this ^^; i suggest reading this when you're fully free ;D ps. image isn't mine. ctto.

wc. 18k (help me)

you never knew how it felt to be stalked by a guy long enough for your entire connections to be known, never knew how it felt to be obsessed over quite enough for the people close to you to disappear.

most of all, you never knew, would it had come from the guy most people refer to as a golden boy.

ephemeraleb

THIS IS SOOO GOOD WHAT

#caleb🍎

Trending Blogs

Last Seen Blogs

colonel's worm