ivy’s page!

you took a long, deep breath as you looked across your apartment. every surface was clean, your favorite candles were lit, blankets were piled on the couch, and a shitty romcom was paused on the tv. everything was fine, nothing looked messy or out of place, your apartment was a complete 180 from what it looked like 12 hours prior.

after your breakup with caleb, you’d lost motivation for a lot of things, including cleaning. when you woke up this morning and saw calebs note and a clean kitchen, you felt grateful but slightly embarrassed. he hadn’t ever seen you in such a low point, and as someone who prided herself on not letting a bad situation ruin her life, it wasn’t an easy thing to swallow. that piled on top of knowing you’d drunk dialed him and thoroughly humiliated yourself when he came to pick you up off the street made you groan in embarrassment.

you checked your phone for the time, noting that caleb would be here any moment with takeout. you ran your clammy hands over your sweatpants, pacing in a circle around your coffee table and giving yourself a pep talk.

“it’s just a conversation over dinner, that’s it. how many dinners have you had with him? hundreds, this isn’t a big deal.” you laugh. “it’s not like the future of your relationship depends on this conversation or anything- no biggie.”

you pause as your last few words sink in, biting your nail. well shit, when you put it that way the situation did seem sorta dire-

knocking on your door jolted you out of your panic, jumping and looking from your door to your window, planning a last second escape plan. you groan at the stupidity of that idea and take a deep breath, walking to the door. cool, calm, and collected. you can definitely be cool, calm, collected. easy peasy!

when you open the door and look up at your ex boyfriend smiling down at you holding a bag of chinese takeout, looking like you traveled back in time to when you were still dating, you knew this wouldn’t be easy peasy, and you definitely weren’t cool, calm, and collected.

“i’m so sorry i drunk called you, told you i missed you, and said i love you. that was inappropriate.” you blurted out, no control over your own words.

caleb blinked at the sudden declaration, chuckling slightly and walking into your apartment. “well good evening to you too, pips, aand it’s alright.”

you close and lock the door, scratching your arm nervously while he takes the food out of its bag and sets the takeout boxes onto the coffee table. “uhm, sorry, i saw your face and panicked.”

he shook his head, shoulders shaking with silent laughter as he balled up the plastic bag the food came in, walking to your kitchen to toss it in the trashcan.

while he grabbed utensils from the drawer, he looked over his shoulder at you, his expression putting you at ease. “there’s no reason to panic, this is a casual conversation between two old friends over dinner while a shitty movie plays in the background. what’s panic worthy about that?”

you sat down on the couch and pulled your favorite blanket over your lap, grabbing your box of food. “no, you’re right, nothing panic worthy here.”

caleb smiled and handed you a fork while he sat down beside you, digging through your pile of blankets and finding his blanket- the blanket you made for him to keep at your place so he wouldn’t have to keep borrowing yours.

he turned his head slightly so you wouldn’t see how much you keeping the blanket in your apartment- on your couch- affected him.

you unpaused the movie and took a large bite of your food to avoid conversing. part of you hoped that caleb would lead the conversation and let you nod and shake your head as answers, but you weren’t banking on that happening.

you both sat in silence, eating and watching the first 10 minutes of the movie, rolling your eyes and groaning at the corny parts.

while you sipped on your soup you felt calebs eyes on you, your skin heating from more than just the hot temperature of the soup. side eyeing him, you caught him looking over your facial features before slowly meeting your gaze.

“hey pips.”

“hey caleb.”

an awkward staring contest ensued between you two for a drawn out moment. it was broken by caleb clearing his throat and pushing rice around in his take out box with his fork.

“this is kinda awkward.”

“mhm, just a bit.” you nod.

caleb shifts and sets his fork down. “lets talk?”

you sigh, defeated. “...yeah, we probably can’t put that off any longer, huh?”

he smiles and places his food onto the coffee table, turning to face you on the couch. “nope.” he pops the ‘p’ in nope. “you wanna go first or should i?”

you gesture for him to take it away, setting your food beside his on the coffee table. fidgeting with the edge of your blanket, you avoid eye contact.

caleb hummed and took a second to gather his thoughts before speaking. “soo, why’d you stop texting me back after new years? we ended things amicably and we’d been friends for a year after we broke up, but then you just.. stopped responding to me on every platform.”

the movie in the background was the only noise in the apartment, caleb silent as he waited on your answer and you silent as you thought of how to answer it.

how could you answer it without sounding like a jealous ex? that's what you were, after all.

you’d gone out to a club with friends the weekend before new years, only to spot caleb drinking with a woman and holding her. the two had been laughing, the girl leaning all over him and in his face. caleb hadn’t exactly pushed her away, so you assumed they were together together.

you swallowed and picked at the end of one of your nails. “i saw you out one night with your new girlfriend. i thought it was inappropriate of me to keep texting you after seeing you’d clearly moved on, so i just… stopped responding. out of respect for you and your new girlfriend.”

calebs brows drew together and his head tilted in confusion. “girlfriend? who?”

you laughed quietly at his response. great, he must’ve had multiple relationships after you’d broken up since he didn’t even know which one you were talking about. “i don’t know her name, but i saw you with her at my favorite club downtown. she was was around my height, dark hair, had on a blue dress, it was around new years eve?”

caleb thought for a long moment before the memory came back to him. “ohhhh, i know what you’re talking about. that was gideons girlfriend, she had a bit too much to drink so gideon had me watch her while he went to the bathroom. she was so drunk she couldn’t stand up on her own, so i was holding her up.”

he looked at you, smiling. “she definitely wasn’t my girlfriend. i didn’t even look at anyone after we broke up. the only woman i’ve looked at since is you.”

you met his gaze finally, slightly embarrassed by your assumption. his loving look distracted you enough that all you cared about was him in that moment.

“really?”

“mhmm. i saw you that night at the club. you looked amazing, but by the time gideon came back and i went looking for you, you were gone.”

you blinked in surprise. you’d only been in the club for five minutes max, seeing caleb with another woman made you sick, so you left shortly after that. you’d been on second floor balcony of the club, looking down on the main floor, how he managed to see you was beyond you. “how’d you find me.”

caleb smiled, sweet purple eyes on yours. “since i met you there hasn’t been a single room that i’ve been in that my eyes haven’t searched for you.”

“oh, caleb.” you flushed at his words, looking away. “well, if it means anything, i haven’t looked at anyone else either since we broke up.”

caleb hummed and nodded, mumbling a chorus of ‘goods’ as he looked around your apartment, noting all the things he recognized and some of the things that were new. “so, how's life then? i assume you graduated?”

---

you weren’t stupid, you knew why he was asking about this now of all times. when the two of you were dating a year prior, you’d both been at the peak of your struggles- you with exams, constantly being busy studying, and him with his new colonel duties, constantly being away.

your relationship hadn’t been at its healthiest during those months and you’d both put things above your relationship. after months of hardly seeing each other and having tense attitudes when you did see each other, you suggested taking a break. just for a month until the summer came, then you could both reevaluate and see if there was a way to still be together and work towards your accomplishments at the same time.

caleb protested before reluctantly agreeing, thinking the break might make things easier on you- having to focus less on personal relationships and having more time for your studies.

summer came and unfortunately your advisor told you that you needed to take summer semester classes if you wanted to graduate on time. you both planned to meet at a coffee shop to try and find a middle ground in your relationship- a nice compromise.

you had just finished the hardest exam of your life, spending 3 hours in the classroom on it. you were tired, hungry, and frustrated about your performance on the exam as you sat at the coffee shop waiting for caleb. caleb finally texted you an hour after you were supposed to meet asking to reschedule because he got pulled into an unexpected meeting.

on edge and tired of this exact issue, you texted him telling him there was no need in rescheduling as you didn’t think the relationship would work out. hours later you texted and clarified that you didn’t think it would work out now while you were in school and while he was still adjusting to his new duties as colonel, apologizing for your less than polite breakup text.

caleb understood, apologizing profusely for everything and promising that he would wait for you for as long he was alive.

and clearly, he had.

---

you nodded and smiled proudly. “i did graduate, yeah. i didn’t post about it or anything and i didn’t text you about it because of the whole me thinking you had a girlfriend thing.”

caleb reached over and shook your shoulder. “heyy, congrats! that’s such a big accomplishment, i’m so proud. i know how hard you worked for that.”

as soon as calebs hand left your shoulder you felt like you were lacking something important, immediately wanting it back. you watched him drape his arm over the back of the couch, his hand fidgeting with the fabric. his eyes distracted you, pinning you in place with a look so soft and full of longing that it made your heart ache.

you swallowed and finally responded, voice quiet. “thank you, caleb.”

he nodded slowly in response. silence enveloped the space again while the two of you watched each other. caleb was so comforting, even just to be in the presence of. the anxiety that plagued you earlier was gone entirely. how could you be anxious when caleb looked at you like you were the only person in the world?

“soooo, about what you said last night.” caleb started, a bit of a teasing smirk on his lips.

you groan and run your hands down your face. “the worst part about that is that i don’t even know which thing you’re talking about. i said wayyy too much.”

caleb laughed quietly. “yeah, you were kiiind of an open book last night. i’m talking about the part where you insinuated that you want to get back together.” He paused to take a drink of his water before continuing. “i’m assuming that you meant that considering we’re having this conversation?”

you sighed and dropped your hands from your face, fighting off the embarrassment of your actions from the night before.

“i did mean it, but only if you’re ready. has your work schedule been consistent?”

caleb nods and lists off the days he works, the hours sounding normal-ish. he insists that he’s been getting off at the same time daily for months now and that it’s rare for him to have to stay later for meetings and whatnot.

“is your job pretty consistent? i know the hours can be iffy at a new job.” he asks, not so subtly moving closer to you on the couch, his knee resting against yours.

you think back on your past few shifts at your new job, shrugging. “they’ve been letting me off almost on the dot every day, sometimes a few minutes after, but for the most part my schedule’s pretty stable.”

caleb smiles happily. “soooo what i’m hearing is that we both have schedules that aren’t killing us and our free time overlaps? our one and only problem might be fixed, baby.”

you giggle and scoot a bit closer to him on the couch, caleb tracking the movement and moving his hand onto your leg that now is resting on top of his knee, thumb rubbing your skin. “that’s sure what it sounds like, huh?”

“mmmhhm.” caleb nodded slowly and licked his lips, staring at yours.

sensing where this was going, you cleared your throat and spoke before he could kiss you. “well, great! i think we should take things somewhat slow, get back into the swing of things casually and not throwing ourselves straight back into dating, yeah?”

caleb blinked and scratched the back of his neck, laughing a bit. “that’s… sure, probably the best plan of action. whats another few weeks when we’ve been waiting for eachother for years, right?”

you nodded and smiled, grateful for him respecting the boundaries you placed, even though you were sure caleb had no issues with jumping right back into things.

–

over the next few weeks, you and caleb took things slow-ish. a movie night a few nights a week, a date night once a week, cuddling and kissing a few days after the original conversation.

once caleb felt that you were both in a good routine with your schedules and knowing how comfortable you both were with each other again, he asked you to be his girlfriend again, which you obviously accepted.

that night, you went from taking things slow to lightning fast- having marathon sex once you got back to your apartment after making it official. two years is a long time and you both had a lot of lost time to make up for.

if anything, the break made you both that much more inseparable because you knew how hard it was being apart. caleb insists that you stay the night with him every night- whether it be at his place or yours- because why would you willingly spend time away from one another after you did that for years? he even takes the ‘do you hate me?’ approach every now and then when you want one night to yourself, though you always give in and have a sleepover, cuddling the whole night.

-----

a/npt2: and then you both rode off into the sunset😻im sooo sorry this took me so long to get to, i had 0 motivation for it until about 3 days ago when i was listening to (parts of) 12 to 12 by sombr

tags🫶: @colonelkaboom @sweetcalebb @rosyangel95 @bitchykittenconnoisseur

over the next fifteen minutes, valko sniffed your entire upper body over heavily, occasionally stopping to lap at your skin affectionately.

it wasn’t until he had his nose pressed against your crotch that his tail finally gave a wag. he popped his head up and tapped your inner thigh.

“i found the new smell.” he announces, proud of himself.

you glanced down at him and stifled a laugh. “what, my pussy? have you never smelled it before?”

as if realizing what he’d been doing for the first time, valko sat up, his cheeks flushed. “uh- sorry, i didn’t mean to invade your privacy like that.”

“it’s fine, valko, really. we’re dating, anyway. i’ve honestly been waiting for you to work up the courage to get down there.”

you bookmark your page and set the book down, wiggling down to get comfy against your mattress and spread your legs just slightly.

valko’s expression softens slightly, his eyes still full of curiosity. “really?”

“mhmm.” you nod and stretch your arms out, bored. “i can tell you wanna investigate..” you reach down and pull the crotch part of your loose shorts to the side, exposing the dampened fabric of your panties.

the scent hits valko stronger than before and his previous hesitation vanishes. his pupils dilate and drool pools im his mouth, threatening to spill out the corners.

he plops himself back between your thighs and noses your shorts to the side. his nose presses directly against your clit, inhaling deeply and exhaling with loud whines.

you expect him to move your panties to the side and start licking or sucking or something, but he just keeps sniffing you through them like the scent was giving him a high. you let him be for another minute before clearing your throat.

“ko, my love, do you not know how to eat someone out?” you try to ask as nicely as possible, but your voice has a hint of teasing.

he peeks up at you, yellow eyes wide with embarrassment. “no, of course i do, i’m just trying to figure out what the smell is.”

you sigh and press against his forehead, pushing his head out from between your legs. he pouts and is about to start whining again until you peel your shorts and panties off, tossing them somewhere to the side.

you take his hand and run his pointer and middle fingers through your slit, shivering at the stimulation. you guide his fingers to his nose for him to sniff, which he obviously does with vigor.

“it’s arousal. i’m aroused, valko.”

valko sniffs his own fingers heavily, giving you a distracted little. “hmm?”

you groan and grab his jaw, pull it open, and shove his wet fingers into his mouth. “do i need to hols your hand for every little thing? im horny eat me out, finger me, fuck me- do literally anything or i’m using my toys while you watch.”

“you’re horny? like, you want to reproduce?” valko asks, pieces coming together in his head. unfortunately for you, the taste and smell of you has valko’s brain thinking more werewolf than human.

you nod and lay back down, relieved that he seems to suddenly understand. “exactly- well, not quite the reproduction part, but yes to the horny part.”

his tongue was lapping at the liquid drooling from your pussy in an instant, the rough texture a new feeling for you.

it only took a minute or so for you to realize that valko… wasn’t good at this. his tongue was clunky and he was avoiding all the spots he shouldn't avoid.

you cleared your throat and scratched at his fluffy ear. “are you a virgin?”

valko continued delivering slobbery kisses to your hole. “mmhmmmm.” he answered happily, droopy eyes opening up to meet yours. “my mate..”

you raise an eyebrow, skeptical. “you’re telling me you have never slept with anyone else? you??”

he pulled back slightly, biting on your inner thigh. “never. we mate for life, and you’re my mate, aren’t you?”

“well not technically-” you counter, only for him to interrupt you with a growl.

“not yet. this counts as mating. you’re..” he goes right back to sniffing you, whining at the heady scent. his hips roll against the mattress, desperate for stimulation. “you’re in heat, i’ll fix it.”

valko slurped and prodded at your entrance, his tongue sinking in and out experimentally. slowly hur surely, he found a rhythm that made moans bubble out of you and your back arch.

you gripped his plum colored hair and pulled. a tail with the matching plum color popped up behind him and swished back and forth agressively.

your whines and pleas encouraged valko, spurring him on as he doubled his efforts. the more he went, the more wet you got, which increased the scent just millimeters from his nose. he took in big gulps of air through his nose, sniffing you while his mouth was preoccupied.

“valk- mmhhhh, fuck!” your fingers twisted in his hair, holding him still as you ground against his face.

he pushed another finger in beside the first and curled it upwards, tongue swirling around your puffy clit at the same time.

valko humped the bed, his clothed dick hard and leaky as he savored your taste.

you whined his name again and he looked up at you, his yellow eyes glowing and piercing yours in the dark room.

you knew valko was sweet and you knew he would never in a million years hurt you, but when he looked at you like that with his eyes dilated… it felt like he was hunting you.

you didn’t have time to process how helpless that made you feel and how much you liked it before you came. you think you screamed, but you’re not entirely sure. the only thing you know is that when you sat up, your body felt like lead, your head was fuzzy, and valko’s face, hair, and fluffy ears were coated in your cum.

you’d squirted on him- the poor guy had never eaten someone out before, and you’d soaked him.

“shit, i’m so sorry, i didn’t know that would-” you try to apologize, but are cut off by valko continuing yo eat you out, far more ravenous this time.

you squeak and dig your nails into the thick muscle of his shoulder. “what are you doing?! i already came- mmh!”

he hums against you, talking with his mouth full. “i know, it’s all over me- fuck, more, i need more. give me more.” he growled, feral.

your scent was too much for him to handle when it was contained in your pants, but now that it was physically on his skin and seeping into his hair and fur? it was impossible to act with decorum.

valko didn’t relent until you’d came five more times, only stopping once he realized you were crying from overstimulation.

he’d also cum numerous times in his pants, whimpering and whining in both pain and pleasure at how his knot swelled against nothing, throbbing uselessly as he wasted his cum.

valko cuddled you after, laying you on top of him and nuzzling his face (still coated in your cum) against yours. you’d chastized him for that, trying to convince him to wash it off, but he looked at you like you’d asked him to shave his tail. “you marked me, don’t you realize? i’m never cleaning my face.”

you scoff and gnaw at the spot between his shoukder and neck. “i could actually mark you if you want.”

valko’s tail thumped against the bed beside you, wagging happily. “please? please, pleaseee mark me, i’m ready.”

“mmmh. fine. but that makes me the alpha, doesn’t it?” you tease him with a smirk.

valko huffed and raised his lip, showing his fangs. “you don’t have these, do you?”

you laugh and shush him. “quiet down and let me mark you, like a good omega.”

valko growled, but whined happily when you bit at his skin.

a/n: they were supposed to fuck but i got lost im the sauce like valko

tags: @colonelkaboom @sweetcalebb @heartyluv @rafayelkisses @wetforsylus @angeleclair @insidious-innocence @xaviersbunny @deepspacenova @silverianni @paintedperidot @luvleixo @gardenialily @xinghuisknight @theerogueprincess

During a short break in between missions, you managed to leave Linkon for a bit and finally visit Skyhaven, after what felt like forever. You really missed Caleb and had been looking forward to being with him once again. 

He hadn't been able to visit you as often anymore, the Fleet consumed all his time and he would be gone for weeks with barely any communication. Even when he was able to go home for a bit, he used it to get some well deserved sleep. 

You could say the same, work at the Hunters Association was hectic lately, going on missions left and right, some even waking you up in the middle of the night, leaving you with an awfully dysregulated sleep schedule. 

But not anymore, you could finally spend some time with your favorite person and decompress with whatever activity you could plan; it didn't really matter as long as you could see him and feel him close to you. 

Stepping off the train, you quickly took out your phone and dialed Caleb's number, beaming with joy as it rang, waiting impatiently for him to pick up and hear his voice, hoping to surprise him with your sudden visit. As the phone rang and rang, your smile slowly started fading. You waited until the last ring, seeing your call go to voicemail. 

“You tried to reach Colonel Xia, unfortunately I’m unable to take your call at the moment, leave a message if the reason for your call is important and I’ll get back to you.” 

You saw your reflection on your screen as it went dark, your smile long gone now and an expression of defeat taking over instead. Dejected, you let the hand holding your phone drop beside you, absentmindedly putting it back in your pocket and dragging your feet towards the station. 

It was a cold day, a warm brown jacket covered your white, long sleeve dress, while a beige scarf flowed around your neck. The tip of your nose was probably red, the chilly wind starting to numb it. You hadn't realized how cold it was before, probably because your excitement had helped you stay warm; but now you could only feel the harsh cool breeze on your skin. 

Of course he wouldn't pick up, unlike you he is actually busy, and to be fair he had no idea you were coming, you didn't tell him. 

Nonetheless, you were still hurt. The distant, indifferent tone on his voicemail felt like a bucket of ice cold water poured down on you. You weren't used to this version of him, you missed the old Caleb you grew up with, the one that cared for you deeply and was always there for you. 

Ever since reuniting with him after the explosion, you had a hard time adjusting to this new Caleb. Yes, he still looked out after you and cared for you, but there was something just so different to him. Maybe that was the image he was trying to portray now, a feared and highly respected colonel. 

You felt kind of stupid for getting all these thoughts and negative feelings, his job obviously required him to act like that, the same way yours required something similar. 

Trying to shake off all those heavy emotions you keep walking, leaving behind the station and walking downtown. Perhaps some sightseeing or sitting down somewhere could help you calm down in the meantime. 

As you kept wandering around the streets of Skyhaven, you come across a not-so-busy but cozy coffee shop and quickly rush in, as the cold outside is getting harsher by the second and you feel your extremities start to numb. You walk in, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to warm them up as you approach the counter, quickly ordering a warm drink. 

While waiting for your name to be called, you feel a strong hand on your shoulder. You quickly turn around, surprised by the sudden touch, only to find Gideon, Caleb's old friend from back at the Aerospace Academy. He gives you a bright smile and pulls his hand off your shoulder. 

“Hey! Long time no see, how you've been?” He asks, looking genuinely glad to see you. After all, he had known you for some time now, and he considered you something sort of a little sister. Spending so much time with Caleb, he probably subconsciously started to look after you the same way he did. 

“Gideon! It's been so long,” you replied, a big smile on your face. “I've been good, just a little busy with work.” 

Your talk is shortly interrupted by your name being called, you quickly walk up to the counter and pick up your beverage, excusing yourself for a moment, and making your way back to him. 

“Oh hey, looks like we ordered the same thing,” he points out, leading you towards the window counter lined with tall stools. “What a coincidence.”

You sit side by side, catching up on each other’s lives, laughing and having a good time together. You held your drink between your chilly hands, feeling them warm up slowly. It wasn't just the drink that was helping; having a kind, comforting presence made you go back to your usual cheerful self. After a rough couple of days, that was exactly what you needed. 

Although, a small part in the back of your mind couldn't stop thinking about Caleb, he was the reason you were there in the first place and you still really missed him. You could be enjoying some coffee with him and be laughing with him like this instead. 

You wondered when would be the next time you both have free schedules and be able to spend time with each other, like old times. 

Nostalgia would truly be the end of you. 

“... right now. Are you excited?” Gideon asked, looking at you with an enthusiastic expression on his face. You were so deep in thought about Caleb, you had stopped paying attention to what he was saying. A small pang of guilt shot through you, he was being very considerate listening to you and helping you, and you weren't truly present when it was his turn. 

To avoid seeming rude or inconsiderate, you quickly gave him a smile that matched his and replied, “Um… yeah! Super excited, can't wait!”

What were you excited about? You had absolutely no clue. His physical language didn't give off any hints as to what he was talking about, and you felt a bit awkward, lying right through your teeth like that. 

Gideon raised his cup up to his lips and took a sip from his drink, his eyes leaving yours and looking out the window instead. You turned your head towards the window, trying to catch a glimpse of what he was looking out for, but the streets seemed calm and uneventful. 

“Huh? Weird…” He says, putting down the cup in front of him, his body turning towards you once again, his eyes following last. He seemed to still be looking for whatever he wanted to see outside, but there really was nothing. 

It was better not to ask, maybe the thing he was looking for was something related to what he had asked you before, and you did not want to embarrass yourself like that. 

The conversation started to pick up again, this time you made sure to not let your mind wander anymore, and thankfully, he didn't bring up whatever he was talking about before. You started to have a really nice time, talking and laughing with Gideon; it really had been such a long time and you forgot how much he meant to you, your second in command when it came to playing pranks on Caleb or the only one who could save you when Caleb turned into a big meanie. 

You were laughing at some embarrassing story that happened to the both of them during their time in the academy when you accidentally spilled some of your drink on the counter, quickly reaching over to grab some napkins and try your best to clean the mess up, though by the time you were done, your hands were now a little sticky. “Wait, I’ll be right back, just need to wash my hands,” you said while getting up.

“Yeah, no problem, take your time,” he said smiling, putting his phone up, his screen lit up with an incoming call. “Need to take this anyway.”

You walked towards the restrooms, pushing open the door with your forearm as to not get the door sticky and quickly made your way inside the tiny room, pushing the sleeves from your coat up, grabbing some soap and turning on the faucet. While rubbing your hands together to lather up the soap, you hear a knock on the door. “Sorry, it's occupied!” You shout, rising off the soap and turning off the water. 

The door opens up, revealing the guy that had been occupying your every thought the whole day. His hair a little messy, probably from the wind outside, though everything else on him was impeccably in place, his look completely neat. He was wearing his colonel uniform, not a single wrinkle on it, shoes perfectly polished, and smooth leather gloves that seemed to fit his hand exactly. 

“Wha– Caleb?” You stuttered, completely taken aback. Firstly, because you didn't expect to see him at all, you thought for sure he would be completely busy today; and secondly, because he just walked into the restroom you were in! 

“What, pipsqueak? You didn't miss me?” He asked, a small hint of sadness tainted his voice and covered his eyes, making him look like an upset puppy. He inched closer to you, just towering over you, but not making any sort of contact with you, his hands glued to his side. 

“Caleb, you know that's not true,” you say in a whisper, feeling the warmth radiating off him and his gaze locked on you, making your brain short-circuit. “I have missed you so so much…”

Caleb leans down, reaching out his arms and putting them on the wall behind you, cornering you in the already cramped space. “Then how come you don't come visit me and spend time with me, like you are with Gideon?” His purple eyes boring into yours, eyebrows furrowed and his usual smile is nowhere to be found. 

“What are you talking about? I–” you mumble, but he cuts you off. 

“Don't lie, I saw you both laughing and being so close together, your hand on his arm…” he trailed off. “I haven't seen you smile like that with me in so long, pips…” 

His sad puppy look started to shift into a stern one instead, before he quickly placed his hands on your waist and picked you up, just enough to lift you up and place you on the sink. Caleb slides his hands down your hips and all the way down to your inner thighs, spreading them open and positioning himself between your thighs. 

He takes his hands off your thighs, knowing you couldn't shut them close even if you wanted to, placing them instead beside your legs on the cold tiles of the sink. 

“C-Caleb, come on! Nothing’s happening between me and Gideon!” you squeaked out, nervous by his sudden change in demeanor, you had never seen him act this way. “I wanted to come see you! I thought you were busy with the Fleet!” 

Having his face so close to yours was making you nervous and you just couldn't hold eye contact with him anymore, choosing to look to the side instead. His demeanor right now felt like back when you had first reunited with him, back when you had first met with this new persona you couldn't recognize. He looked like the boy you grew up with but something had definitely changed. 

“Why won't you look at me, pips?” his gloved hand reached out and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look back up at him. “Do I scare you?” you finally locked eyes with him again and you're met with sad, darkened eyes. 

“Is it my uniform?” he says, leaning down towards your ear, pressing himself between your legs, leaving no space between his body and yours. A tingly warmth arises from your lower abdomen, making your breathing turn a little heavier. 

Caleb drops his hand from your jaw, using it instead to tuck some of your hair behind your ear, before continuing. “Do you actually believe I can't tell what you're thinking?” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. 

“I don't know what you're talking about…” you reply, holding on to the last bit of your confidence before feeling his hips grind once against your core, the friction dragging out a whimper from your lips.

“No…? You think I can't feel it?” Caleb teased, his voice breathy and heavy, grazing the shell of your ear with his teeth before biting down lightly. You flutter your eyes shut, while your hands turn into fists, the skin he was biting suddenly feeling overly sensitive. 

“Come on, pips… say it, say Caleb is the only one you need…” the tone in his voice lowering, his words coming out in between short small breaths. “That Caleb is the only one who can make you smile…, the only one who can ever make you happy…”

Caleb moves away from your ear and his eyes find yours once again, silently pleading for an answer. He places his hand on the top of your head, caressing your head and running his fingers through your hair, slowly sliding his hand down to cup your face. 

You feel his gloved thumb carefully glide across your skin until he reaches your bottom lip, pressing on it until your lips are slightly parted. 

It feels good, it feels right. Everything has always felt right with him by your side. No one else could ever compare to him. No one had ever been able to fill the gap he left you with when you had first lost him, and you were now sure no one could ever take his place. “Yes, Caleb is the only one for me… he’s the only one I’ll ever need,” you replied, your voice a mere whisper against his thumb. 

There was a brief flicker in his eyes, like there was something still holding him back, quickly scanning your face for any hint of regret or discomfort, but the only thing he could see was your big, expecting eyes looking right back at him. His last bit of restraint breaks, finally grabbing your face with both hands and softly pressing his lips against yours. 

The kiss is slow and gentle, like he’s savouring it, like he’s been waiting forever to do it. 

His thumbs caress your face, the cold leather warming up against your burning face. 

Without a warning, Caleb catches your bottom lip between his teeth and pulls on it gently, making your mouth open, giving his tongue entrance to explore it. Once again, he starts off slow, enjoying what he had been dreaming of for years, while pressing his body against yours. 

You reach up and wrap your hands around his neck, the kiss slowly starting to deepen and get more heated, pulling on him with your arms to get him closer and help him get rid of the last of his inhibitions. You didn't want anything to keep holding him back, you were his and he was yours, it wasn't wrong if you both wanted it.

A breathy whimper escapes you mid kiss, giving Caleb indication that he was doing a good job, that you were enjoying the thing he had been wanting to do to you for so long. You liked him too. 

His body starts to lean down on you, kissing you with a newly found drive, though his larger frame was starting to make you lose your balance, making you have to move one of your arms off his neck and down to the sink to steady yourself. Once Caleb noticed your shift, he placed one of his hands on the small of your back, holding and pressing you against him once again, your back arched as he pushed you backwards, deepening the kiss. 

He was hungry, desperate, his kisses getting sloppier and less controlled. You could feel your lungs running out of air, he had stopped giving you small breaks between kisses, and he didn't seem like he would let go anytime soon. 

“Mhphm… C-Caleb…” you whine against his mouth, your words completely muffled. Your only reply was a growl back from him and his hand rubbing your back in a soothing way, like he was apologizing. His hips were grinding against you, dry humping you fully clothed through his uniform. 

Your head was starting to get dizzy, you had no other option but to put your hands on Caleb’s chest and push him off you, the action gaining you a groan back from him. While catching your breath you looked at him, his eyes hooded looking directly back at yours, his face covered in a slight flush that reached all the way to his ears, and red, puffy lips that showcased the hunger with which he had been kissing you.

“I- I think we've been in here for a little too long, Caleb…” you say while panting, trying to get down from the sink, steading yourself on his arm. “... someone will notice.”

Once your feet reach the floor once again, you turn around to look at yourself in the mirror, your main concern being someone seeing you leave the bathroom with a guy and looking completely disheveled. The lipstick you were wearing was now gone, though some remains were still smudged at the corners. Your lips looked similar to his, swollen and rosier in color, with some of your combined saliva still coating them. 

And with Caleb running his hands through your hair during your heated kissing session, it looked like you had just walked through very windy weather. 

Quickly you tried to smooth out your hair as much as you possibly could, not wanting your look to immediately expose what you had been doing for the past couple of minutes. Wouldn't it be incredibly embarrassing having to face Caleb’s old friend with a look that screamed “I was passionately making out with someone right before this!”? 

Right? Just thinking about it mortified you, and– 

“Hey! Are you in there?” 

Fuck! Couldn't Gideon have picked a worse moment to come check in on you?

You froze in place, your panicked reflection staring right back at you. Before you can reply back, you feel Caleb shift behind you, catching a quick glimpse of an amused look plastered on his face. 

Oh no, that was definitely not a good sign. 

You feel him press his back against yours, his hands grabbing your hips, and in one swift motion he has you bent over the sink. 

Looking at the mirror you see Caleb lean down beside you, his lips getting close to your ear once again. “Go on pipsqueak,” he whispers, his voice croaky and laced with desire. “Answer him.” 

As you made eye contact with his reflection, you were met with a hungry, expecting gaze. He was testing you. 

“Ye–” you start, though the words get stuck in your throat as you feel Caleb’s mouth on your neck, warm and wet against the sensitive skin. Before you know it, his teeth sink down, earning a hiss from you; the place where he had bitten you stung for a moment before his tongue darted out to soothe the wound he had just created. 

“What’s taking you so long? He’s waiting y’know?” Caleb mutters against your neck, starting to suck on different spots. 

At least he wasn't biting anymore. 

Fighting back your whimpers you muster up enough courage to speak up again, without making it obvious someone else was in that bathroom with you. “Sorry! Yes– “ a small moan escaping you, the mischievous guy behind you pushing his leg between your thighs, rubbing your still covered slit with his knee. 

“Um, oh…kay?” Gideon answered, sounding confused by your weird sounding reply, but not wanting to pry. “Look I just wanted to let you know something came up and I need to go, it was really nice seeing you.” 

Caleb did not like those last words.

His hands were now grasping at the hem of your dress, lifting and scrunching it up behind your back to keep it there, exposing your lower half to him. He placed his hands between the back of your thighs, and spread them open enough to fit one of his hands in between. One of his fingers hooks on your panties and pulls them aside, exposing your pussy and giving him an opening to slip one finger between your wet, slippery folds. 

The leather was back to being cold, making a shiver run down your spine from both the chilly sensation and the lewd feeling of having one of his covered fingers between your already needy slit. 

It was so so wrong, you couldn't be doing this with him when his friend was just on the other side of the door. You wanted to say something to Caleb, to tell him to stop or to wait for Gideon to leave, but the words wouldn't come out. 

You weren't sure if it was because you didn't want to make noise or because you actually really wanted him to keep going. 

It was such a turn on thinking about getting caught, and maybe that was exactly what Caleb wanted: for Gideon to catch you both and let him see who was occupying all your thoughts. 

“Don’t be rude and leave him hanging, he’s expecting an answer,” Caleb says, his tone sounding similar to the one in his voicemail, commanding and cold. 

You couldn't, there was absolutely no way you could talk when he had you in such an indecent position, doing something so vulgar almost in public. But, god, his authoritative tone was driving you crazy, you had to obey. 

“N-No problem, Gid,” you reply with your best attempt at a stable voice. Caleb slides in another finger, both digits reaching for your clit and rubbing it painfully slow. He’s stopped nibbling on your neck, choosing to focus instead on you, your expressions and your replies, influenced completely by him. 

“It was nice seeing you too–” you regret your words right as they leave you, it was definitely not your brightest idea. Caleb’s fingers leave your wet cunt, the two fingers of his glove coated with your juices, only to lay his hand flat and slap your pussy. “Fuck!” you whisper-scream, hoping it was quiet enough only for Caleb to hear. 

Maybe don't piss Caleb off when he’s jealous. 

And wearing his uniform.

“Yeah… uh, listen, Caleb was supposed to be coming over too, I thought I’d seen him but he hasn’t shown up yet. Can you please do me a favor and wait for him?” Gideon asks, the pace in his voice making it seem like he’s in a rush. Hopefully whatever it is he needs to attend to has distracted him from your painfully bad skills at staying quiet. “And tell him I’m sorry I had to leave in such a rush, please. Thank you!” his voice growing fainter as he dashed off. 

Oh god you did it, you survived. 

As long as Gideon didn't suspect something was going on in there, you could finally breathe. Or so you thought. 

While Gideon was talking, Caleb had used his palm to soothe the pain his slap had inflicted on you earlier. It hadn’t actually hurt that bad, the slight sting it gave you had only turned you on more, but you weren’t going to stop Caleb from rubbing your already aroused pussy with his colonel gloves on. It's not like you got the chance to have Colonel Caleb touching you in uniform every day. 

After Gideon had left, he had removed his hands off you entirely, your dress falling back down in place and leaving you feeling weirdly empty. 

You straightened your back and looked behind you, wondering why he had moved away from you. He was back to his sad puppy look from before, but this time he seemed more annoyed than sad. 

“Do you mean that? You loved seeing him?” he asked in a tone that almost made it sound like he was sulking. You had to hold back a chuckle, he would definitely not like you laughing at him, but he just looked so cute. 

“I had a nice time with him, Caleb,” you answered, reaching out to grab his face between your hands, making him look at you. He wasn't a fan of that answer, his face still sour. “But, no one could ever replace you, silly, I would always choose to spend time with you above everyone else.” 

“Plus, I had more fun with you in these past few minutes than I did with him while I had my drink,” you added. That answer he did like. If he was a puppy, the ears on the top of his head would've perked up and his tail would be wagging. 

He leaned down and captured your lips in a sweet kiss, ecstatic to finally be able to do that with you, he would make sure to be the only one to ever kiss you and make you feel good. 

His clean hand grabs one of yours and drags you towards the door. “Come on pips, let’s go home.”

You try to stop him from dragging you out, you probably were back to looking a mess and he was about to show everyone in that café what you two had been up to. You could die from the embarrassment.

What a crazy day you’ve had today. First you were so disappointed you weren’t going to be able to see the guy you had been thinking about for weeks, the one who motivated you to keep going; then, you bump into his friend and he helps boost your energy a little, later on the guy finds you with his friend and gets jealous, jealous enough to finally take the first step (and many other steps). And now, you were back at his place, most of your clothes discarded on the floor, except for your dress and underwear. 

Caleb had you against a wall, kissing you with such greed you could barely keep up with him. Not only were his kisses hungry, his hands were roaming your body like he just couldn't get enough of you. It was years and years of longing for you, and he could finally have you. 

The only item of clothing Caleb had gotten rid of was his hat, the rest of his uniform was still on. So unfair you were almost naked and he was fully clothed. 

One of his hands snakes down your body, reaching for the hem of your dress and lifting it enough to slide his hand in. His index finger hooks on the waistband of your panties and starts pulling down on it. 

“W-Wait!” you squeal, cutting off the kiss. Yes, he had already touched you but it still made you a little nervous to have him take them off. 

“Please pips,” he whines, looking so pathetic and needy, a big contrast with his colonel image. 

Caleb doesn’t wait for your answer, he gets down on his knees and puts his head beneath your dress, his hands grabbing your thighs and keeping them spread open, as he presses his nose on the wet spot on your panties. You feel him sniffing you, pushing his nose in as close as he can. The thin fabric doesn’t do much, his nose was tickling you as it slid between your still clothed folds. 

Suddenly, you feel his warm tongue lick a fat strip between your folds, from back to front, pulling out a loud moan from your throat. Your panties were a complete mess, damp from your own wetness and now Caleb’s saliva. 

You pull your dress up, enough to see him down on his knees with his face nuzzled on your pussy. 

“Please, can I remove these already? Please…” he mutters against your skin, his breath tickling you and making you shudder. His eyes look up at you expectantly, while he moves his face off your panties just a little further towards your inner thighs, peppering them with kisses and little nibbles. 

“Yes, wha–? Caleb!” 

Right as he hears you give him the green light, he pulls them down and throws them aside somewhere with the rest of your clothes, and immediately hooks your legs on his shoulders picking you up, making sure to keep a good grip on your thighs, his face right in front of your now exposed cunt. 

He keeps your back against the wall to hold you steady, though you still choose to wrap your legs around his neck for more stability. 

Wrapping yourself around him, pulling him closer. Oh, you had to be doing that on purpose.

Caleb was like a starving man, lapping at your sopping wet pussy like it was the first meal he’d had in days, licking up your juices and sucking on your pulsing clit. 

The noises that filled up the room were so filthy and obscene, loud slurping and squelching combined with his groans and moans. You couldn’t hold yours back either, you were being so noisy and it only seemed to motivate Caleb even more. 

You were extremely glad Caleb had no neighbors, otherwise he would be getting plenty of noise complaints. 

As he pulls away for a moment to breathe, you see his face: glassy eyes completely focused on what was in front of him, his mouth and chin shiny, coated in a mix of his own spit and your slick. 

“Bet you stopped thinking about Gideon now, right?” he asks, finally looking back up at you. “No one else can make you feel this good.”

“Did you have a rough day today with the Fleet?” you ask him back, curious about what had him so worked up. Maybe he had a bad day. 

“Are you really thinking about them right now?” His expression tells you he might be a little ticked off by your question. “The person under the colonel’s command right now is you. Watch your mouth.” 

“And when the colonel asks you a question, you answer.”  

Something definitely pissed him off in the Fleet, and then the whole thing with Gideon only added more fuel to the fire. “Yes, colonel, no one could ever make me feel good except you” you answer him, running your fingers through his hair, pulling slightly on it before continuing. “I cannot think about anyone else but you, my mind is only focused on my Caleb.” 

That was exactly what he needed to hear. “Good girl, you know I’m only taking care of you, sometimes it feels like you forget your manners.”

His head dives back between your thighs, devouring your needy cunt and making a big mess. 

You start feeling more and more desperate, that funny feeling in your lower abdomen only growing. Your hips move a little, attempting to grind against Caleb’s face, but his grip on you is a little too strong. Surely you’ll end up with bruises on your thighs. 

“Please, cum on my face, I need it,” he whines against you, his tongue darting out and slithering into your entrance, his nose pressing slightly on your clit. 

His words drive you over the edge, fingers grabbing onto his hair and pushing him closer, right before you feel your orgasm hit you. In a way you kind of rode his face before cumming right on it. 

Caleb was still busy licking you up, completely entranced with it. You were more sensitive now that you had climaxed, shuddering with every taste. 

Your thighs were still shaky after that intense orgasm, and now that Caleb was putting you back down, you were worried you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself stable enough to stand. 

Almost like he was reading your mind, Caleb picks you up bridal style and carries you all the way to the bathroom, placing you on the edge of the bathtub, and turning on the faucet. 

“You did so good for me pipsqueak, you were so perfect,” he praised, looking at you with a kind smile on his face and a hand reaching out to caress your face. “Thank you, for letting me do this with you, you don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this.” 

His words made you feel warm inside and helped reassure you that he’s been wanting and longing for you the same way you have been wanting him for some time now. Though there was still something bothering you…

“Um, Caleb… you helped me finish but I didn’t even get to touch you.” 

His gaze softened as he replied. “Trust me pips, anything you do to me is perfect, I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed watching you melt in my arms.” 

“And who says I didn’t finish?” he adds, looking a little shy. “Watching you panic in the café was enough for me, you looked so pretty getting ruined by me in there.” 

You give him a playful punch on the arm, a light blush creeping up your cheeks. 

For others he might seem like the cold, distant, not to be messed around colonel, but to you he was the boy you had grown up with, the one who knew everything about you and was always looking after you. 

His eyes drift to the empty tea kettle before returning to you. Instead of waiting for his answer, you take a few steps toward him.

Your fingers find the collar of his shirt, gently tugging on it until it slips off one shoulder. "Don't you dare offer me more tea, Zayne.” You say it lightheartedly and watch a small smile spread across his lips as he pulls you closer by the waist. “Then I suppose, I’ll have to show my hospitality in a different way.”

You gently tug at the other side of his shirt, letting it slide from his broad frame. His hand comes up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing on your skin, before he tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.

“Are you sure about this?” His teasing tone is gone; the question is sincere. “Are you?” you ask back. “I’ve always been sure about you. I’ve told you before that I’ll take whatever place you allow me to have in your life, even if it isn’t the one I truly want.” “You really think I can be this close to you… and not want us to get back together afterwards?” you say quietly.

That’s all Zayne needs to hear. He greedily, yet gently, cups your face in his hands and pulls you into a deep, passionate kiss, pressing himself hungrily against you.

You two have been broken up for only two weeks, but Zayne’s desire feels as if he’s been suppressing it for centuries. You push him backwards until he falls onto the bed, then climb on top of him to straddle him. You lean forward to kiss his neck before moving closer to his ear.

“Zayne?” “Yes, my love,” his voice all breathy. “I want you to fuck me in every corner and on and against every surface of this room tonight.”

Zayne immediately flips you onto your back to get on top of you. He slips off your dress while swirling his tongue against yours, muffled moans filling the room as the desperation of being deprived of each other echoes between you.

“When I’m done with you in here…” he says, sliding his hand between your legs, gliding his fingers along your wet entrance before pushing two inside, “…we’ve still got your hotel room to explore.” Even though he’s been bottling up his desire for you, he makes sure to take his time, making you come from his fingers, his tongue, and finally his cock.

In the morning, you wake to loud knocking on Zayne’s door, the sound carrying over to your own room.

You actually did end up having sex in both rooms, your windows are particularly dirty now because of how often he pressed you against them to “make sure everyone sees who you belong to.”

You wake up startled, only to see Zayne already dressed for the day. “Don’t worry, it’s just Greyson. I’m sorry for having to leave already, but I can already wrap things up by 6 pm today. Let me take you out for dinner.”

You nod happily, and he kisses your forehead before heading to the door. When Zayne steps out of your room, Greyson turns around.

“Good morning,” Zayne says calmly as he follows Greyson towards the elevator. “Sooo… it seems our plan worked? Are you two back together?” he asks.

His next kiss is gentle, his lips ghosting over yours before he kisses where his thumb had been. An apology.

It’s you that chases him now, falling with him as he settles back into the couch cushions properly. His thighs are warm under you. The thin material of his lounge pants move freely as you squirm.

You can’t help moving as you kiss him; you couldn’t stay still if you tried. It’s your body asking for more. Greedy. Even with your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly. Even with his warm, wet tongue in your mouth, your hips roll, desperate and eager.

“I didn’t—” you try again, cutting yourself off against his swollen lips. “I didn’t know.”

His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you away from his mouth just enough for him to look into your eyes. Then, slowly, his fingers lift to your lips… to trace them… to press against them… and then to breach. Two fingers pass your lips and fill your mouth, pressing against your tongue, keeping you quiet.

It had happened minutes earlier.

You couldn’t sleep, and so, like you often did, you’d slipped your underwear down your legs and thought of the man living just above you. You tried to be quiet. You were usually so good. But as your fingers slipped through the mess you made between your legs, you found yourself whining, whimpering… calling his name.

The slam of your front door closing had you bolting upright, quickly startled back to reality. Were you being loud? You’d looked to your open window. The one that led out to your balcony. Surely, not loud enough for him to hear…

But then Xavier fills in your doorway, dressed for bed, but looking uncharacteristically awake for the hour.

Oh.

You quickly discovered it was worse than you’d assumed. He’d lifted you from the bed, underwear around your ankles, and carried you out to the balcony.

With your legs around his waist, he’d told you what he’d heard. His name. Your desperate sounds. And then he’d told you what he’d seen.

Your neighbour.

On his own balcony.

The one next to yours.

Listening.

Listening to what was Xavier’s alone.

His fingers press a little against your tongue as you wiggle in his lap, slick pussy making a mess of his pants. “But he heard,” Xavier says. “He heard you… he heard the pretty sounds you make… while you had your little fingers all over what’s mine, hm?”

You nod with a small hum, unable to speak.

His fingers slide out a little, before pressing back inside. And again. A rhythm develops. One he keeps up with as he speaks, “I could’ve teleported to him. Could’ve pushed him over the railing before he heard another sound.” His clear blue eyes look grey in the dark apartment, lit only by the moon.

His words hold some of his usual softness, like he wasn’t talking about murdering your friendly (apparently voyeuristic) neighbour. Your teeth graze lightly against his fingers as they retreat and enter, retreat and enter. “They belong to me,” he continues. “The sounds you make…”

You nod.

“This mouth.”

Nod.

“Your cunt.”

Nod.

His fingers slip free of your lips and despite being given your voice back, you don’t speak. Instead, you lean against him, settling your face into the crook of his neck, lips against his warm skin. One soft kiss. You both breathe… heavy… waiting.

“You were thinking of me,” he says finally. It’s not a question.

You answer it anyway. “Yes,” you whisper.

He lifts your head, cradling your face in his palms.

“Only me?”

You nod quickly, eyes watery.

“My good girl…” Praise.

When you grind down into him again, he catches your hips. “Tell me what you want, hm?” Soft and kind.

“You,” you answer. It comes out with a little squeak at the end as you suck in a breath, holding back tears.

“Xavier?”

“Xavier.”

He holds you close as he stands, keeping your messy core pressed tight against him. You expect to be dropped onto a mattress. Instead, it’s cold glass that meets your back.

His lips find your neck, and he’s just as messy as he was with your mouth. He sucks and bites marks into your skin and laves his tongue over them in apology.

You have less control like this. You can’t grind down into him. You have to rely entirely on the way he rolls into you, pressing you against the cold, ceiling-to-floor pane.

By the time he’s finished with your neck, you’re whimpering his name in broken pleas.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, his own breathing uneven. “I’ll fill you now, baby. Xavier will fill you now.”

You think you say please. You’re babbling little broken words into his ear, clinging to him like he held your life in his hands, as he often had before.

Then his tip is prodding at your twitchy hole. You suck in shallow breaths as he teases. Breaching… just… retreating… “belongs to me”… “my drippy little thing”… he mutters as he prods, slips his tip around your messy entrance.

You’re both so slick now that a vulgar sound fills your ears… fills your head so completely that you imagine it slipping out into the dark night and filling the empty street too. You imagine him leaking against you, mixing his pre with your slick.

Then, without warning, he drops you down onto him, stuffing you so full so suddenly that you make a sound that MUST escape out your open balcony door. A sound that has him wrapping his arms around you and fucking you down onto himself like a toy... over and over and over.

“That’s it… that’s it, baby. Let him hear,” he pants into your neck. “Let him hear me breed my girl.”

His lips find yours again. And the way they move against you is almost embarrassing, even as he’s buried inside you against window on a clear, bright night. He’s clumsy and lazy, and the wet, messy noises sound a lot like when he’s lapping at your cunt.

“One is in a more stable condition than the other, but I’m certain that they will both make it.” She says, but he nearly tunes the rest of her words out. Alive. You and MC were both alive. He’s finally able to swallow the knot that had been forming at the pit of his throat. “The one who brought the unconscious lady in – was that her partner?”

“She was very brave. Didn’t let go of her the entire time, until she knew she was safe.” Relief hits him so fast and so violently that it nearly hurts. Sudden enough for his knees to nearly give in. The chip is no longer flooding him with a blinding, white-hot pain. You were both safe, and that was all that mattered. That was all that was ever supposed to matter. He swears that the colors that make up his field of vision suddenly became a few shades brighter. The gray lifts at the edges, and it becomes a little easier to breathe.

He knew he fucked up. The realization quietly seeps out from him. There were so many things that he needed to fix. Too many things that he needed to say – words that took nearly losing you for him to finally say out loud. He had so much to apologize for, both to you and MC, but especially you.

He just hoped that you’d forgive him with a little bit of time. Or a lot of it. He didn’t care. Caleb would offer you all the time that it takes, as much as you needed in order to grant him forgiveness.

When he saw MC for the first time after the mission, she was pale, exhausted, yet upright. Her body had been wrapped in countless bandages and gauze, but she was alright. You were alright. She saw it in his face before anything. The relief that tore through her was blissfully immediate, and she’d grabbed his sleeve before he could even utter a single word, trembling with reassurance, at last. “She’s comatose, but…”

“She’s okay,” MC had breathed out, and he nodded. Tears had filled her waterline then, and she let out a choked sob, wrapping his arms around him in relief. Oh, you had nearly given your life to save her. She had warned you not to, but you did, anyway. You fit in so beautifully with every other hunter at the Association, just by being so selflessly… you. “They said she’s okay.”

It takes a few weeks, but they wait.

You’re transferred to Akso on the same day, confined to that godforsaken hospital bed until you wake up. The days quickly blur into one another, but feel excruciatingly slow all at once; still, they make the effort to visit every day. MC brings you things first when she’s finally back on her feet – such as a fresh vase of your favorite flowers, a stack of snacks that you love yet are far from being medically cleared to eat, and little trinkets that Caleb insists you’ll complain about once you wake up. She talks to you, too – rambling about everything, from how her day of recovery went to how stupid the great Colonel of the Farspace Fleet was for nearly letting you go.

“Caleb’s a real dummy, isn’t he?” 

“It’s okay. You can tell him all about it when you wake up. That idiot is long overdue for an apology, anyway.”

Caleb is a little quieter about his visits, but he still shows up every day. On most days, he just observes you. The way the machines at Akso hum softly around you, the way your chest perpetually falls and rises again. It calms him, it reminds him that you’re still here. He memorizes the soft cadence of your breathing and the faint twitch of your fingers that nearly makes him believe that you’re about to wake up. You don’t, though, much to his chagrin.

Sometimes, Caleb talks to you. Sometimes, he just sits there, chair pulled up next to you, thumb brushing absentminded circles against the inside of your wrist, eyes lingering over your visage. He’s careful – always so careful, like you’ll shatter into countless fragments if he presses too hard. Sometimes, he gives you gifts. At one point, he brings you a book from your wishlist every day until he eventually buys out the whole list. He intended to get them for you for your birthday, but he supposes that he can spoil you a little. Eventually, the entire table in your room is filled with gifts from him, MC, and all your friends. The staff at Akso, particularly Zayne, are a little amused.

All his gifts are waiting. Just like he is. This time, though, he refuses to be too late. He’ll never be too late again. He’ll make sure of that.

“I’m here,” he tells you quietly, on more days than he can count. “I always will be.”

You never answer him, until one day, you do.

Caleb is next to you and nearly dozed off. MC had gone home a few hours ago, and visiting hours were nearly over, but he always stays until the last second, because he was so afraid of missing a moment such as this one. Your lashes flutter, and you begin to stir, and it’s almost like he was never even asleep in the first place. Your eyes finally open, slowly and deliberately, trying not to let the fluorescent hospital lights blind you. And your voice – rough and ridden with sleep, but still unmistakably yours – breathes out the one thing that he has been starving to hear for what feels like a lifetime.

“Caleb…”

His chair scrapes sharply against the floor as he surges forward, one hand hovering just shy of your face, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he actually touches you. And then, at that moment, the world finally rights itself again.

But then, your expression twists. You didn’t look relieved. No, you looked… You looked afraid. “...Caleb?”

His heart stutters at how small your voice had gotten, at the realization that something was clearly wrong. The machines are ringing in his ears, and he feels like he’s unwillingly getting dragged back onto shore, when all he wants to do is stay submerged under the water. 

“Caleb!”

Caleb finally jerks awake with a sharp exhale, and the phantom warmth of your hand is still burning against his skin. MC is standing over him, one hand still on his shoulder, where she’d been trying so hard to shake him awake. He wished that she had never done that. “You were dreaming again.”

The room is monotone and grey, so wrongfully dull, and it takes him exactly three seconds to remember why. Right. You had never woken up. Today was the three hundred and sixty-fifth day that has passed since your death. Exactly one year, and they were going to visit your grave, not your hospital room. Because you were dead. You have been for a long while.

Lately, he’s been having these dreams, and they’ve been getting worse. But truthfully, was ‘worse’ the correct word to describe them? Because sometimes, he thinks that they’re the only things keeping him upright. He wonders – a thought that has crossed his head multiple times – if it would just be easier to stay asleep. To live in that perpetual summer afternoon for the rest of his life, where the colors mix so beautifully and finally form something worth looking at. 

Maybe, in a pocket universe out there, there’s a timeline where he had actually saved you. Unfortunately, this was not that timeline. If the poet who was narrating his life had been kinder, Caleb thinks that his life might have been easier to live. But the poets are not kind. They are cruel, and cruelty has been the only thing that they’ve ever known. The only thing he’s ever known.

Unfortunately, the poets are merciless, and that was just the way things were. The way things will continue to be, for as long as he lives. He has no say in the matter, because he’s never had one in the first place.

SOMETIMES I GO TO SLEEP / AND I'M STILL SEVENTEEN / YOU STILL LIVE DOWN MY STREET / YOU'RE NOT MAD AT ME.

the beginning | previous.

Try and mask it all you want, but one of Caleb’s greatest talents is his perceptiveness, especially when it comes to you. He can read you as easily as the morning paper, and as easily as the instruction manuals that come with his model planes. It’s not hard for him to tell how you’re feeling. You blatantly wear your heart on your sleeve, even if you try to cover the way it erratically beats at times. The way you attempt to hide the small bout of hatred that glints beneath your irises when you see the crystallized red necklace on his neck. When you see MC. The way your carefully crafted mask can slip within a split second, only for it to come back the moment after, and you greet her with that sickeningly sweet smile, dripping with superficiality.

He knows himself far too well. Long before you, long before any promises you’ve ever made with him, and long before you even entered his life, he made a promise to Josephine. He swore that he’d spend the rest of his life protecting MC, or die trying to, as long as EVER got him before they’d even get to graze her skin. Josephine’s hands had been frail, yet he still remembers the way her fingers firmly dug into his sleeve when she made him swear. Promise to be a safeguard for MC. And Caleb has never broken any promises. Especially not for Josephine, who died not so long after that.

He didn’t love you any less, but at the end of it all, Caleb was built to protect MC. The agenda was wired within his veins and written in the stars; the calligraphy was crystal clear. You deserve someone who does not hesitate. Someone willing to put you first. And that man – no matter how much he wanted it to be – was not Caleb.

You were never the sun. The sun burns too loudly, too recklessly for its own good, dooming those like Icarus who fall too close within the vicinity of its blazing flames. No, you were the moon – distant, luminous, and quietly tugging at his heartstrings in a way that he pretended not to feel. The lunar celestial body is beautiful and full of grace; it’s precisely why Caleb has always been afraid of touching things that enchant him. You’re too far from his reach, but maybe that’s a good thing. A great thing, even. Because Caleb ruins all things that are good in his life. 

And the last thing he would want to do is hurt you. 

That summer afternoon haunts him. The apparitions of you, the painted shades of azure blue and dazzling red, all plague him in sleep because they gave him a glimpse of how things could have been if Caleb could have everything that he wanted. If the universe showed him a little bit of mercy, and if he weren’t such a coward. You were laughing beneath a sky so bright that it almost hurt to look at, because everything felt so right, and you looked so beautiful. The sun caught in your hair so deliberately that it’d put any muse to shame. He wanted to tuck a stray strand behind your ear. To paint you, even though he had no idea how to. He’d learn, just for you. There was nobody else to paint, because there was you and only you that afternoon, and you were all he ever wanted. 

He remembered thinking, absurdly and helplessly, that the world had crafted you too carefully. You were never meant to be touched. You were the kind of thing people look at the way they look at the night sky – knowing it is vast, knowing it is burning, knowing that they can be rekindled from hopeless ash into fire, but the stars above will never belong to them.

You will never belong to him. And maybe that was for the best.

You had wrapped that crimson bracelet around his wrist earlier that afternoon. His matching half. Your fingers were brushing against his pulse, and he swore the contact lingered longer than it should have. He had tied yours, just so it would be fair, intertwining your fingers against his own as he finally called the ordeal even. 

After it all, you leaned back on your palms and tilted your face towards the sun. And for the first time in a while, Caleb could not tell what you were thinking as you gazed at the clouds. He wanted to ask – ask what you were thinking, get a glimpse inside your brain, a penny (or a couple thousand of them) just to be able to quickly glance at your thoughts. How did you get this bracelet to fit so perfectly around his wrist? Were you aware that he’ll never take his matching half off, for as long as he lives? Why did you make them? 

And why were you so pretty right now?

“Stay,” you finally whispered, soft and speaking your mind at last. It sounded like a perfect harmony, too perfect for a man like him, and he knew he was slipping. He was getting greedy. Dangerously greedy for something that he could not have. The siren’s hymn is far too irresistible now, and he’s getting pulled into the point of no return. “Just like this.”

Caleb finally glanced at you then. He didn’t care about the sky or the apples that were fully in season because of the time of year. No, he was looking directly at you. He had wanted – with a sharp and terrifying clarity – to close the distance. To press his mouth to yours. To see if you would breathe his name the way he imagined you might, your breath hot against his lips.

He wanted to kiss you.

Instead, he did what the poets had always trained him to do. He held your hand, pressing his palm against yours because it was the only thing he was brave enough for. The only thing he was allowed to take from you without taking too much. To clasp your hand against his for a little while, because the poets are cruel to boys like Caleb, and the greatest mark you could leave on him was the bracelet resting on his wrist. Nothing more. He cannot be yours, no matter how much he wants to rewrite his narrative and grab the pen himself. He can only pretend to be for a little while.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.” Just for today, he thought. Let me have this one moment.

Just for today.

When the explosion happened, and the trajectory of his life changed in an instant alongside Josephine’s death, Caleb’s first thought was not about all the pain he felt. He was used to that, especially after all the experiments EVER had subjected on him. He could handle all the torment, but this fear that he felt – this was new. The moment that the toring chip was implanted by the Fleet, his right arm had been reinforced with metal, and your bracelet was lost to the ruin, he knew. 

Alongside that fear came his terrifying realization that things were no longer the same. He was no longer sixteen, and he was never yours, no matter how much he wanted to be. He was bound to her in this lifetime. It was his duty to protect her.

It was always her.

Still, if the thread that had been severed during the tragedy were a curse, Caleb would have worn it all over again. A thousand times over, even if he knew it would kill him one day. He would have offered the other arm, too, if it meant keeping the faint indentation your bracelet left against his skin. If it meant preserving the memory of your fingers brushing against his pulse, as if you could steady it just by your touch alone. Like you could make everything right again with a snap of your fingers. And maybe, in another life, everything would be alright. He would just pray that you’d wait long enough for that life – a life full of silver springs and a perpetual summer oasis – to be granted to both of you.

He never once thought you doomed him. If anything, he now thinks that loving you was the only thing that ever felt deliberate in a life that could barely even call his.

There’s a joint mission with the Association and the Fleet today, which is rare. Typically, Caleb would want you and MC to be as far away from Skyhaven as possible, but some things cannot be helped, especially when it comes to higher orders. At the end of the day, people in the Fleet and the Association are just puppets, players of the game for those above. Unfortunately, none of you were an exception to that.

MC finds him in his office, and when she knocks on the door, she smirks at the way his face deflates – just enough for her to notice. He was probably hoping that it was you. Right now, you were probably with... “You look happy to see me.”

Caleb rolls his eyes at her blatant sarcasm, and she laughs. It brings about a sense of shame that he refuses to acknowledge, because he knows that she can see right through him. “She’s getting ready for the mission debrief. I think she’s having lunch with Xavier right now.”

“Why the long face?” Of course, she doesn’t miss the way his shoulders tighten at the mention of him. That guy from UNICORNS, the same department you’re in, who’s been awfully close to you lately. Xavier. He’s lucky he’s not your actual partner, and Jenna had paired you with MC. If anything, it makes it easier for Caleb to look after both of you, and he has to worry less about him. “If it makes you feel better, I heard them talking about a certaaain someone named ‘Caleb’. She has a surprise for you, you know.”

“I don’t need surprises. We have a mission soon, don’t we?”

He says, his voice flat. MC just hums, clearly unconvinced by his faux stoicism, strolling further into his office without an invitation. She perches on the edge of his desk and gives him an all-knowing smile.

“You’re jealous.” The declaration is blunt, and it hits him like a freight train. He would have laughed, if only he didn’t feel so called out.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not.”

“Okay, sure. And the sky is green.” He runs a hand through his hair at that. The motion is sharp, filled with a lot more agitation than he initially intended, and her smile softens by just a fraction. He’s too easy to tease. “You’re impossible, Caleb.”

MC studies him for a long moment. Growing up together had made it second nature for them to read each other’s tells like an open book. He taught her several things: how to secretly cheat at Kitty Cards (or not, because he simply turns a blind eye at her antics), how to cook simple dishes, and how to use his EVOL to get any plushie she wanted from the claw machines; but most importantly, Caleb taught her how to hold his secrets. That’s why she can simply lay a statement out that’s so real, he’s unable to counteract it. Something like, “You love her.”

Which is exactly what she says. The words land heavier than a simple accusation, because accusations can be disproven. However, this time, her words were wholly true, and he could only exhale through his nose in response. “That’s not relevant.”

“It’s not relevant?” MC wanted to laugh, but it just comes out as a scoff. “Every day, you look at her as if she hung the moon. Or more like she’s the moon herself. It’s surprising how she hasn’t noticed yet.”

“She deserves someone who’s able to put her first.” If you were the moon, then you were simply an unreachable deity, a figure only meant to be admired from afar. Your beauty was the kind that needed restraint, and restraint was something that he had years of expertise in his belt. He’d give you all the distance if it were for the best, and he’d spent a long time convincing himself that space was truly the best course of action. “Someone who can…”Treat her better.

Caleb’s thoughts flicker to you and Xavier, but he’s quickly interrupted by MC. Her tone is firm, the one she uses when she calls him out. “Well, she doesn’t just want ‘someone’. She wants you.”

“You don’t get to decide what’s best for her without even giving her a choice in the first place,” she adds, pointing a deliberate finger at his chest. “You’re not protecting her by doing that. That’s called being a coward.”

His hand curls to his side, and for once, she’s reduced him to silence. A heavy tension fills the air. She was right. He was a coward. He’s never been able to think right, to circumnavigate all his feelings when it comes to you, anyway. He brushes his mechanical arm, the metal mostly hidden under his uniform. Once, you’d slipped a handwoven bracelet around that wrist, smiling all prettily at him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like that day was a mere snapshot of a life both of you could have. Once, that day, he almost kissed you, but he had chosen restraint that moment, too. “She’ll be safer if I just keep my distance.”

“Actually, that ‘distance’ is just making you even more miserable,” she counters. “And it’s just leaving her really, really confused. Congrats, Caleb. What a stellar strategy from the great Colonel of the Farspace Fleet! Is this exactly what you wanted? The kind of intellect that lets you survive in the Deepspace Tunnels?”

She nudges his shoulder. “You don’t have to keep protecting me to love her. I’m not twelve anymore, even though you treat me like I still am sometimes.”

“You’re still being hunted by EVER–”

“So are you. And the danger plagues her life, too.” Her eyes soften. “We don’t get to live safe lives, dummy. Some of us chose to be Hunters, and we just keep on fighting anyway, despite knowing the risk.”

“You should tell her,” MC repeats, a little quieter this time. “And that you’re scared. She’ll understand. Just start with the truth – and take advantage of what she’s about to give you later.”

She doesn’t elaborate on what the surprise is, but her gaze flickers to his wrist. He stares at the door, head fleeting, as if you’ll walk into his office at any second. If he tells you, then he risks losing everything, the balance he’s maintained and the distance that he’s spent years convincing himself was the noble thing to do. If he doesn’t tell you, then he just might risk losing you to someone else, someone better, someone like Xavier. And for once, that notion feels more terrifying than anything, because then, he’ll lose everything, and then some. At that point, he’d have to learn to let you go, and someone else would get to be yours.

“...Fine,” he finally mutters.

MC’s eyes light up. “Fine?”

“I’ll tell her.” Even though it’s not a promise.

Still, when he finally says those words, the world feels a little lighter, and something within the universe shifts. For the first time in a long while, Caleb could imagine that bright, summer afternoon once more. The day he had thought about making you his, the day he almost reached for more than your hand, and the day he thought about kissing you. He thought about your saccharine sweet lips and remembered the way you wore your shiny lip gloss. You still wear it, even to this day. He always wanted to know what flavor it was. And what did it taste like, exactly? Cherry, maybe. Or apple, to match the delicious pie you had baked together that summer.

It’s you who has constantly plagued his thoughts. Despite everything, it has always only ever been you. And maybe, at last, Caleb didn’t have to spend another second wondering anymore, because he might just find out the answer to all these questions.

“I thought–” you say quietly, your eyes strictly fixated on the box instead of him, “that maybe we don’t get to keep things forever, but we can try to, anyway.”

His breath catches at the realization that this was the surprise that MC was talking about. You had handed him a remade pair of matching bracelets after the mission debrief. The pattern was the same, and they were still beautifully handwoven by you, but the ends are no longer unraveling, and your handiwork had clearly gotten more skillful with time. For a second, just one split second, all the years between his sixteenth and now had blurred into something raucous yet familiar. A feeling that he knew all too well – the same feeling he had been pushing back all this time, for fear that it would one day eat him alive.

“You made another set,” he says slowly, voice far raspier than he intended. “After I lost mine when…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Caleb never does, a taciturn defense mechanism that came especially handy during conversations that are more difficult to have between the two of you. The explosion was one of them. He briefly wondered once, when his arm had been reinforced, if you would make another pair of those bracelets. Then, he quickly tossed that thought away as fast as it had come, but now it's all painfully crashing back on him. All at once, and he was far from ready.

But you nod anyway, like you understood every single complicated fragment that he couldn’t say out loud, and are able to piece everything together regardless. Damn it, that has always been your worst habit. You knew him too well. You saw through all the fractures that Caleb had tried so desperately to hide, and loved him for all he was anyway, without encouraging him to fill in the margins. 

His jaw hardens at that. Your worst habits are the same ones that can unravel him just as quickly. Your perception was beautiful, yet your biggest danger.

“Put it on me, again. Just like old times.”

He holds out his left wrist, the only one remaining that is still tender, and still human. Caleb hardly misses the way your eyes flicker to his mechanical arm before you quickly look away, like you’re trying not to let your guilt bleed all over the floor. The thought alone makes his chest ache, because none of that had been your fault. You never cursed him. It’d be impossible to do so, even if you tried. He wanted to say those words out loud, but they stayed lodged between his teeth and forever stuck at the tip of his tongue. He might just make things worse if he acknowledges them.

So, when you finish tying his matching half, he declares that he’ll just show the physical manifestation of his love for you, just as you did for him. Caleb reaches for you without hesitation, and your wrist fits into his hand like it always has, and he ties the bracelet with a focus that borders on reverent. His tongue presses lightly to his teeth, brows faintly furrowed as he adjusts the knot. “Do you remember what you said that day? How you predicted that I’d forget you in five years when I’m ‘super popular and cool’ once I was at the DAA?”

You nod, small and sheepish, and it makes him huff softly. His fingers linger across your skin for just a second too long, and it makes him realize just how close you are to him. Like he had been unconsciously pulling you in with his EVOL. The proximity makes his voice dip a little lower. “Well, I think my words still stand. I most certainly never forgot you, you’re still way cooler than me, and definitely way cooler than anyone there.”

Gravity is an amusing thing. It’s the reason everyone stays upright, why the world revolves the way it does, and it's partially why Caleb was able to climb the ranks so quickly at the Fleet, but it also pulls him down. Nobody had warned him about the way gravity could settle somewhere deeper within his bones and nearly crush him. How it could root itself within his chest and make every breath feel heavier, far heavier than it should really be.

Still, his EVOL also makes it seem like you were the epicenter of everything, because that’s how it always seems to Caleb. Sometimes, gravity also makes it so that the entire axis of his world could deliberately tilt towards you, and only you.

And finally, he takes in everything about you, all at once. Your eyes. Your mouth. The way the light reflects off your lip gloss, the same one he had spent so long wondering about. It was intoxicating. Dangerous. You were far too dangerous for someone like him. It was dangerous the way your hand lifts his mechanical one, cradling the metal like he was still able to feel. The phantom touch almost makes him feel something. 

Only you could do this to him.

“You come back to me,” He whispers, breath warm against your lips. It makes his pulse stutter, and the poets begin to sing once more, and Caleb knows that he’s in trouble. Because the hymns are getting too angelic now, too tempting. “You promise.”

He thinks back to MC’s declarative words. “You love her.” 

No matter how much he refused to admit it, everything she had said earlier was right. He loves you. Even after all this time, he loves you. So much that it hurts. Sometimes, between the margins of all his internalized turmoil, Caleb dreams that he could just be with you. To live a life with you without having to worry about the Fleet, or the Hunter’s Association, or the toring chip that silently puppeteers his every move and thought. That he could perpetually relive that summer day, over and over again, to be sixteen and utterly clueless about the future with you, forever.

Caleb loves you. And when his gaze finally drops to your lips, he decides that he’s going to prove that he does, once and for all. To stop wondering about everything, and to start knowing. “I–”

“Caleb!”

The moment ends as quickly as it came, and you break away from him before he even realizes what happened. He sees MC standing in the doorway, mid-breath and fully geared up. You’re looking at her, and you refuse to look at him now, standing a considerable distance away. It makes his chest ache all over again. She cluelessly asks, “They’re calling us in. Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” you say after a moment. And if Caleb could hear the poets, they were probably laughing up a storm. Maybe this was just a part of their cruel nature. Their grand plan of mercilessly dangling everything that he wants in front of his face, of toying with his cake and eating it. It makes him realize that even though MC had been right, and he did love you, Caleb had also been right in his own way. She was right, but so awfully naive. You’ll be safer if you just keep your distance from him. “I’m coming.”

Because, after all this time, maybe Caleb had been the cursed one all along.

MC’s expression quickly shifts when she senses your meek tone and the dirty look that he had given her the second she walked in. She had been so caught up with preparing for the mission that she completely forgot to read the room. She just had a conversation with Caleb about this! Her eyes flicker to your wrist, and then to his, and the realization of what she just interrupted finally dawns on her. “Shit, I’m so sorry–”

“I really shouldn’t be here right now, should I?” she stammers, already quickly backing out the door. “I’ll–I’ll leave you two to it.”

When she leaves, you still refuse to meet his gaze. He tries to call out your name, to maybe make you understand, but to no avail. “Please, just look at me–”

“Don’t.” 

Your tone was so cold, it completely reduced him to silence. Watching you leave felt like a slap to the face, because at that moment, you had finally slipped through his fingers. And it hurt a little more knowing that he didn’t let you go in the end, but you had left on your own accord.

Caleb’s life is full of almosts. For a brief instance, he almost got to call himself yours. He almost sealed that promise with you. He almost chose you over her. He almost called you beautiful that bright blue summer afternoon (it was at the tip of his tongue. What if he had just said it then? Would everything have changed? Would gravity have reoriented itself to be less suffocating? Would the dull, monotone colors of his life finally have mixed to form something worth gazing at?)

He almost chose differently, and now… these ‘almosts’ will continue to be almosts. Now, he’ll just never know, because MC was right. In the end, Caleb was just a coward. A coward who curses everyone around him, including her.

And including you.

“Caleb, I need evac. Now.”

Your voice cuts through the comms, from MC’s watch – and he feels his heart drop. He should have known something was wrong the moment your own Hunter’s watch had lost signal. Everything must have gone awry, and he curses, checking your location amidst all the static. Damn it. Why did you two have to be so far away? “Status.”

Of course, he had his own respective mission to attend to while you were with MC. His mission site wasn’t too far, but far enough that it’d take him some time to get to your location, a real disadvantage when things become a shitshow. Such as right now. Caleb never really cared about abandoning his post if it meant saving you two. Today was one of the times that his title could be used as leverage. 

But then you say it. Something that he wasn’t ready for. “MC’s down, and–”

For half a second, the world goes horribly quiet. Everything else tunes out into a plethora of fuzzy static, and then he feels it – the pain practically detonating at the back of his neck. The chip. Fuck. He was losing control. Caleb chokes on a breath as the toring chip flares white-hot beneath his skin, a violent, searing pulse that shoots straight down his spine. His hand slams against the console to steady himself, knuckles blanching. No. No, no, no–

“She took a hit from a wanderer– I’m trying to take us… safe zone… I’m five minutes out–”

Get a grip, you motherfucker. He manages to force a few words out, his voice tight and strained against the edges as he fights against the godforsaken implant. Your voice is cutting in and out of the comms. Or maybe that was all in his own head? He must be going mad. “What the hell happened?”

You’re breathing hard on the other end. He can hear it, clear as day. You were huffing, breath uneven and ragged, like you’ve been running this entire time. “It’s a shitshow out here, Caleb. I don’t have my sword, and she took a hit when I wasn’t looking–”

“When you weren’t looking?” Another spike of heat lances through his neck, and he’s nearly keeling, vision blurring at the edges. “You’re supposed to cover for her.”

“I was,” you snap, and if he were just a little more attentive, maybe he could’ve heard the way your voice wavered for a fraction of a second. “I was there, Caleb, I tried–”

“Then why the hell is she bleeding out?”

Static overcomes the comms again, and he’s certain that the chip might just detonate on its own at any moment. The only thing ringing in his head, over and over, are your words. She’s hurt. MC is hurt, and he might be too far to do anything about it. She’s hurt, and it’s his fault. The words failure and coward slam into him so hard that they nearly knock all of the remaining air out of his lungs. The red apples, the ones that used to be so sweet, are now rotting, and the worms have found refuge in them. The sky is too blue, and the smoke is too thick. That old, familiar guilt claws up his throat before he can do anything to stop it.

He’d promised Josephine that he’d protect her–

Another pulse from the chip makes Caleb’s hands shake over the controls. The pulse was sharper and meaner, a haunting reminder that he’d doom all three of you if he didn’t move. Right now, he needed to get his plane to your location, even if the back of his neck might kill him before he does.

It hurts. Fuck, it hurts.

Some distant part of him knows that he should ask – Are you hurt? Were you safe? What was your status? Because you never told him. The questions weakly claw at the ivory crevices between his ribs, but they never make it out of his lips. The only thing he could do was stabilize himself and make his way to where you both were, and silently pray to whatever deity was out there that you were okay. “Damn it. I’ll be waiting at the safe zone near you – I’m about ten minutes away. Can you make it there?”

On the other end, you manage to say, “Yeah. I think.”

You were okay, right?

Caleb doesn’t let himself think about why your voice sounded so thin. Or why it sounded like you were barely stifling a sob through your gritted teeth. Or why you eventually end the call, and the line suddenly goes so eerily– 

Quiet.

It was too quiet.

You were dead.

There should’ve been some type of catastrophe, some cataclysm that shook the earth and rendered it a lifeless husk by the end of it all. Some divine, merciless confirmation that the universe understood what it had just done. And yet, the sky was still present up above, and the bracelet on his wrist stood as a hot, stinging reminder of everything. In reality, the sky should be closing in on itself, swallowing the world into a vortex – not the dull, monotonous shade of gray that it was right now. No, there was something wrong. Where was the prophesied Armageddon? The sky is still here. The world has not ended. Skyhaven hasn’t turned into a pit of ash, Linkon hasn’t erupted into flames.

And yet, you were no longer here. You were dead. You had died saving MC, and yet nobody could even save you. Caleb couldn’t save you.

Nothing is making sense. Around him, the medics are moving, helping the other Hunters who are also injured. Someone is crying, he distantly registers that, but it all sounds warped – like Caleb was hearing the entire world from underwater. His gaze stays locked forward, unmoving and unblinking, because someone had just told him that you were dead on arrival, and that there was nothing they could have done. Nothing he could have done.

Because you were dead.

Every day, people make plans for tomorrow. The day after tomorrow. The vacation they swear they’ll finally take in a few weeks. You had plans. There’s probably still an unwashed basket of laundry sitting somewhere in your quarters, half-forgotten, but it was something that you promised to deal with over the weekend – when you finally had the time to. There’s still a grocery store checklist in your notes, full of all the things you meant to buy. There were books you wanted to read. You had a whole wishlist of them, and he was planning to buy them all for you for your next birthday.

There were things that you meant to finish. But in just a snap of a finger, the elegist cruelly declares that your poem will end in the middle of an ordinary verse. The laundry does not need to be washed anymore. The checklist will never be completed. Your books will begin to collect dust, and Caleb’s world has completely stopped alongside your death. Perhaps it's ironic, the way he thought that some world-ending catastrophe would occur the second they laid down the news, that the back of his neck would finally implode, but everything was just stagnant. Terrifyingly still as he’s forced to stand in the midst of a world that had the audacity to keep moving after your death.

How was this fair? How was any of it fair?

Still, even in the midst of all the clamor, nobody dares to answer him.

Caleb comes to MC the moment they notify him that she’s awake.

It took her a few hours to come to her senses, especially since she sustained injuries that any regular person couldn’t walk off. His vision is swirling. He needed to see her – the past few hours felt like a blur. The quiet, gnawing need to see with his own eyes that at least MC was okay was all encompassing, because the thought that he couldn’t save you plagues his every waking moment.

He couldn’t save you.

The walk to the med bay feels longer than it should. He tries to pinch his skin because part of him is still convinced that this was all a nightmare, a final test that the poets have subjected him to before they end all his misery at last. Maybe it’d just be better for all this to end, anyway. Caleb’s boots sound too loud against the flooring; every step felt like his EVOL was deliberately dragging him down. It was less to do with gravity itself, but more of the way his chest feels like it's been carved hollow. The bracelet on his wrist burns. It felt like another toring chip, in a sense, except it had willfully been implanted by you. But he’d be a fool to take it off. He never will. 

When he steps into the room, MC is already sitting up, and her eyes snap to him immediately. The first thing he senses is relief. Relief flashes all across her face, and she nearly smiles. “Caleb–”

But it falters as quickly as it came when she realizes the expression on his face. He’s never been good at hiding anything from her. Not when they grew up together, side by side. She could tell whenever he was upset, even though he tried to hide it from her every time. “Where is she?”

“Please, Caleb. I want to see her.” Her voice wobbles, and she’s practically pleading at this point. No. “She’s okay, right? Let me see her. Because she said–”

She said she’d be right behind me. That she’d think about herself, too. “I’m sorry.”

“Caleb.” Her eyes widen in horror, tears flooding her waterline at the realization that you died saving her. Even though she had begged you to worry about yourself, too – especially because there were far too many things that you needed to sort out. She was going to convince you to confess to Caleb if the bastard didn’t want to do it himself. To convince you that it was worth it to love him, even after everything. Even after…

Smack!

Even after it all, was he really worth loving?

The slap reverberates across the room, an instinctual move from MC before she even had a second chance to really think about it. Caleb’s head snaps to the side with the force of it, but he doesn’t move to retaliate. He doesn’t move at all, actually. Truthfully, he just stands there, cheek stinging, taking it all in while her hands are trembling. She was shaking in a way that he had never seen before. He was used to seeing her irritated, especially during their petty fights.

But this anger, this was new.

“You–” her voice breaks, nearly turning into a sob as she jabs a finger to his chest, “You idiot! You were supposed to–”

He was supposed to do a lot of things. He was supposed to protect MC. He was supposed to tell you that he loved you, a chance to finally chase after a fragment of that summer afternoon that he constantly longed for. He was supposed to not let you down, to not let MC down, to quit shattering all these baseless promises that he makes.

But that’s all he ever does. He lets people down. Over and over. MC never finishes her words, but he understands. He was a coward. Through and through. 

“I hate you.”

She’s said those words to him a thousand times. She’s said it to him over stupid arguments, over arguing about who has to eat the cilantro, over who gets the last word in. It’s always been over mindless things. Caleb, you’re a dummy. Caleb, I hate you. Caleb, say you’re sorry. It was easy to make up with her. She’d shove him, but come back hours later apologizing, because at the end of the day, MC never really means it. 

But this time, she does mean it. He can hear it in her voice. He could feel it in the way she refused to look at him anymore, the sting on his cheek now serving as a painful reminder of how she felt. And for once in his life, Caleb, the jack of all trades, a star athlete, and the great valedictorian of the Aerospace Academy, had nothing to say. 

The only thing he could find it in himself to do was nod, because he completely understood. And at that moment, something fragile finally fractures beyond repair. Because the three of you had grown up together, but that day – that day, something had died alongside you. And after that, things have never been the same since. 

After your death, Caleb quickly learns that surviving and living are two very distinct things. He often does the first (albeit barely), but is particularly bad at doing the latter. Something in him had calcified in the depths of his bones, the moment that the realization that you were dead had fully settled within him. No amount of time seemed to ever undo the plethora of guilt, emptiness, or blame that he felt. On the outside, he’s still the superficial Colonel of the Farspace Fleet – the mask that he’s used to wearing, prior to even losing you.

However, it’s easier to see that Caleb had retained less of his humanity after, like his mechanical arm had spread to other parts of his body, and the toring chip no longer affected just his neck. There’s a quiet wrongness to it all that nobody acknowledges. His laughter never seems to reach his eyes anymore (but even then, he seldom laughs now), and his office light stays on far too late into the night. Still, the bracelet never leaves his wrist. It wasn’t out of obligation, or maybe even penance. It just made it a little easier to keep going, with that bracelet on. Because it reminds him of everything that he Caleb could’ve had, and a little more.

His relationship with MC never quite recovers. At the end of the day, he knew he still had an obligation to fulfill, and they still fall into the same old habits sometimes – but it’s never quite the same. A keystone, something fundamental, was missing at the apex, but there’s no way to get it back. There’s no way for you to ever come back. They never talk about the argument they had that fateful day, for better or for worse. Sometimes, he catches her looking at his wrist – at the faded threads of your bracelet – before she quickly looks away. Sometimes, MC opens her mouth as if she wants to say something.

But at the end of it all, she says nothing.

Caleb visits you on a quiet afternoon, a day when the sky is the wrong color. 

(Honestly, there’s never been a “correct” color – there hasn’t been one, ever since your death. The clouds have always been a mix of muddy grays and dull, monotone shades. Nothing was paint-worthy anymore. The only scenery that had ever been worth painting was that bright summer afternoon, where all the colors perfectly aligned, and you were so, so pretty.)

There’s a small basket between his fingers, carried by his left hand, the one with your bracelet wrapped around it. He sets it down beside your grave with a careful steadiness that took him months to relearn. It was a basket of red apples, the same kind that had been in season that day. Josephine’s special. He started growing them himself after you died, even though they don’t taste the same. 

They probably never will. But they’re close – close enough that he hopes you’ll like them. Close enough that when he bites into one, he can almost pretend – just for a second – that he’s blissfully sixteen again and unaware. Almosts. He was used to almosts. These almosts were never quite enough. “The texture is a little weird. I’m sorry. I tried to pick the best ones for you.”

Every time he visits, he hopes that the wind will one day answer for him. It never does. For a long moment, he says nothing. He stays there, over your grave, gaze dropped to the bracelet on his wrist. The crimson dye is slowly fading and blending with the ivory. Then, softly, like he’s afraid that the poets would hear this vow and take it away from him too, Caleb makes a promise that he knows he has no right to make. “If you ever grace me with your presence in my next life… If I’m even a worthy enough man to be granted that–”

“Then, for once, I’ll get it right.” His breath hitches, and he inhales, deep and shaky. “I promise on every fiber of my being, that I will always choose you. Over anything.”

“You can always count on that.” His thumb brushes over the bracelet, sealing the promise. 

“I love you.” Caleb finally whispers, and he fails to notice the way the wind stills. He fails to notice that somewhere, far beyond the fragile limits of mortals and their grief, one of the poets lifts their head, in newfound interest. Because vows like that… vows carved from years of regret, desperation, and longing… have always been the most dangerous kind for inspiration.

— LINKON CITY, SOME TIME IN THE DISTANT FUTURE, WHERE THE POETS HAVE GRANTED YOU BOTH A SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE. WILL HE SAVOR THIS OPPORTUNITY, OR LET IT ALL BURN?

Time moves the way it always does. It only moves forward, in a merciless manner, and it is far from forgiving. Still, maybe – just maybe – the poets had finally listened to him.

Because in this life, Caleb and MC do not know each other. 

Truthfully, he still knows of her, because he just needed to know that she was doing okay. He knows that she goes to Linkon University, getting that degree that she’s always wanted because hunters and wanderers are now just a fragment of history – a distant past. She’s happy, probably way happier than when she was ever with Caleb, and maybe that was for the best. They’ve passed each other, maybe once or twice, in the wide sprawl between Linkon and Skyhaven, but as nothing more than strangers, not as people who once grew up under the same roof.

Perhaps that really was for the better.

And you… Caleb remembers everything about you. He particularly remembers that faraway, summer memory – of every distinct feature on your face, the weight of your hand in his, the red apples, and the way that you died. His memory, turns out, is far crueler than anything that EVER had ever inflicted onto him. The pain of losing you does not flare or fade like the pain of that toring chip. It doesn’t grant him any mercy. It just stays the way that it is.

So, Caleb spends the rest of his newfound life searching for a girl that he’s never even met before. All to fulfill that bygone vow that he promised, all those years ago. Sometimes, he wonders if you were just an awfully vivid figment of his imagination – like he had gone mad in his previous life, and you were the only thing he could conjure to keep himself sane. Sometimes, part of him just wants to move on, because he doesn’t even know if you’re here; perhaps you’ve found refuge somewhere far away from Linkon. Somewhere far away from someone like him. And yet, he’s been trying his entire life to find you, because a distant version of himself promised that he would.

Until, one day, all his prayers are answered, in a place so painfully ordinary. 

It was a craft store within Linkon City, a smaller establishment tucked in between two brighter buildings. There was soft music playing overhead, and he caught a faint scent of paper and thread and everything made carefully by hand, and Caleb does not even remember why he entered this place to begin with.

And then there was you.

You, standing behind the register counter, like you had always belonged in this place, somewhere so gentle and forgiving and so rightfully… you. You look up at your phone when he comes in, and you flash him a smile so bright that it makes his chest ache.

Because you looked so happy, and that’s when he realizes everything. No, you were never a figment of his imagination, and nothing had been a dream. They were all memories. Caleb has lived a completely different life before this one, and this second life was one granted to him from whatever deity or poet had been listening to his pleas. All he ever wanted was to live a life with you in the epicenter of it.

Was this the one? Maybe the poets had finally shown him the slightest bit of mercy. Or was this their cruelest joke yet?

But then his gaze flickers to your wrist, and he stops. Wrapped around it was that crimson and ivory bracelet, in the same exact pattern that he remembers, and his entire world freezes. He remembers the careful way you threaded the colors, and the exact shade of red that you favored, and—

Fuck. 

You were real. You were always real. You had just been here this entire time. He thinks back to that beautiful summer afternoon, and he feels like he’s sixteen all over again, sun-warmed and stupid and hopelessly, helplessly, yours. Before he can help it, your name slips from Caleb’s mouth. The two of you have finally crossed paths once more – but wait, there’s something terribly, terribly wrong.

“That’s my name, yeah!” You say, still smiling so beautifully, and he finally feels something in his chest settle into place. Ah, so this was the penance that he had to pay in this life. It was fitting. Definitely more than fitting, especially for someone like him. Still, Caleb would never ask for a redo, no matter what. He’d look for you in every lifetime, and willingly serve this punishment in every single timeline. He’s willing to love you all over again, even if from afar. Even if in this life, you are already bound to someone else. A penance he had to serve for never putting you first in his last life. 

The poet who was writing his story had always been cruel to the touch. But for a man like Caleb, he thinks he deserves nothing less. He almost didn’t want to hear you say it, but he knows that the words are about to leave your lips, anyway. You offer him a small, apologetic smile. Nevertheless, after everything that has happened, Caleb still thinks that you are the most gorgeous woman to grace this wretched world, and in the depths of all his most beautiful memories, he will find you in every single one of them. No matter what happens.

“I’m sorry,” you say gently. “But do I know you?”

WAS I JUST A FOOL? / I’LL FOLLOW YOU DOWN ‘TIL THE SOUND OF MY VOICE WILL HAUNT YOU / GIVE ME JUST A CHANCE / YOU’LL NEVER GET AWAY FROM THE SOUND OF THE WOMAN THAT LOVES YOU.

previous | next (the finale).

end note: hello :D reader’s life post reincarnation is intentionally left ambiguous for you to decide the rest of her story and is NOT answered in the next part. in her new life, she could be matching bracelets with another person. another LI, maybe. hence why she was still wearing it even though she didn’t know who caleb was in her new life. it’s really up to your interpretation. however, in my perspective, i made her wear that bracelet in her next life to silently perpetuate the notion that caleb and reader are still tied to each other in every lifetime, while simultaneously being doomed in every single lifetime as well (i’m sorry…). the aftermath of the ending is for your imagination. does reader get together with another LI? does caleb spend the rest of his reincarnated life loving her from afar? do caleb and reader finally get together, and he spends his entire lifetime getting to know her all over again? its your decision. but just know, that caleb will always love the reader, no matter what happens <3

When you finally reach the base of him, mindful to stay breathing through your nose and not choke, you look up through teary eyes. It takes one look for him to understand.

His hips move carefully at first, slowly fucking your throat so as to let you get used to it. But once you squeeze his thighs, pleading for more? He's not holding back.

"Such a-fuck-good girl. Letting me use you." His actions are just as debased as his words, fucking your face so hard you don't even have time to choke, tip almost definitely bruising the back of your throat.

You've never been more wet in your life.

He doesn't cum down your throat like you'd expected. Instead, he pulls out, groaning as his cum shoots onto your open mouth and cheeks. Zayne is nearly doubled over, panting as he leans down to kiss you messily.

"So good for me. Let me take care of you now, okay?"

Sylus

Maybe you brought some of this stress onto yourself.

I mean, you WERE choosing to be in a serious relationship with your job's number 1 target. But, none of them really knew just how incredible Sylus was. Otherwise, they'd totally understand.

Of course, that doesn't help the pit of anxiety in your stomach every time Onychinus gets mentioned in the briefing room.

Today had been bad. There'd been a three hour long meeting about their various activities, and you'd had a knot in your stomach the entire time. Even as you step into your bedroom, you can feel it. So, there's really only one thing to do.

"Lay down." You don't explain, but Sylus gets the message. He smirks, setting his book aside and laying down on the bed as you strip down.

"Bad day?" He asks as you straddle his face. His evol wraps around your upper body to keep you steady, though his iron grip on your thighs makes it clear you won't fall.

"Less talking." You plead, squirming at the feeling of his warm breath against your pussy. He smirks, and then dives in so quickly you immediately cry out.

To his credit, Sylus is amazing at eating you out. Seriously, how he knows every spot that makes you scream, you'll never understand. But you definitely aren't complaining.

"O-oh fuck! Right there!" You gasp, back arching as you grip his silver locks. He moans at the sensation, ever the masochist.

You cum hard on his tongue, nearly seeing stars. But his grip doesn't loosen, and you're quickly whining from overstimulation.

"S-Sylus! I can't! Fuck!" You gasp, having to grip the headboard so you don't rip the hair from his head. He hums, fingers replacing his tongue as he pulls away.

"You wanted to use me, remember sweetie? Just relax and let me take care of you."

Valko

Honestly, you really don't know why Valko does this to himself.

It was his company after all, he didn't need to be working so hard! Still, he found things to busy himself with endlessly, only to drag himself to your place, exhausted and overwhelmed.

"Poor thing..." You coo as he sinks into the bed, head resting on your lap as he lays on your stomach. He sighs as your fingers card through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly.

"You smell nice." He mumbles, propping himself up so he can press his lips to yours. You smile into it, pulling him a little closer.

"I tried a new lotion tonight. You like it?" You pull him with you as you lay back, his large form settling in between your legs. He sighs, and you can already feel the anxiety starting to melt off him.

"I do. I just..." He shifts, moving even closer to you and pressing his body closer. You whimper involuntarily when he grinds against you.

Perhaps he'd been a little too busy lately.

"You smell-fuck-b-better like this..." Valko murmurs, his whole body pressed against yours as his hips grind back and forth between your legs. Despite the layers of clothing, you whine at the sensation, pleasure shooting through you.

His stress becomes clear with the way his movements become frantic, pressing his lips to yours to kiss you sloppily. Usually, Valko likes to take his time, moving slowly and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. But you're definitely not complaining at this change of pace.

"God!" He gasps, fingers digging into your flesh as he makes a mess of his pants. You can't help but smile, even if you weren't quite there. He'll make it up to you in a minute.

"Feeling better?"

“what? made you gasp, didn’t i? that counts as breathing to me.” 

you growl out his name, which he blissfully ignores. “so, what else do you wanna do? we can check ‘em all off the list right now if we try. gives us plenty of time for other things.” he drops his weight further onto you, melding your body with the sofa. with the way the barbell between his legs pokes into your lower half, it’s a miracle this conversation has stayed relatively tame. 

“actually…” time to pull out the big guns. “i haven’t taken off work yet.”

“what?” his muscles tense, and you can no longer hear his tail pummeling your poor throw pillows from the force of its wagging. “i thought we were spending the whole weekend together. we were supposed to have matching days off.”

“we were supposed to,” you drawl, “but then i thought, why don't i work a few more days, then take a whole week off at the end of the month? that’s when your next business trip’s scheduled for, right? i could go with you.” your lips quirk in a coy, calculating smile—if only he could see it. 

in your periphery, his ears pop up in the shadows cast by the lamplight. “wait, really? we can finally go on a trip together? i’ve been waiting for forever.”

“yup. but, those days off have to be booked in advance for them to be approved. i could go request them right now—my boss would say yes in a heartbeat—but…well, you know. i can’t move, and all. what a shame, am i right?”

he stays silent. 

“i guess that’s okay, though. if you’d rather go by yourself, we can just lie here fore—”

almost immediately, your chest feels lighter. you’ve forgotten how it feels to have your lungs function at full capacity.