MDNI 🔞 such a sweet little puppy, eager to please you
⋆. — content warnings: sub!caleb, caleb's a puppy in this (we blame the protofields lmao), he has a tail & puppy ears (think wander in wonder but as a dog), he's in a leash & collar, cunnilingus
You kneel on the soft rug in the dim glow of your bedroom lamp, the air thick with the scent of vanilla candles flickering on the nightstand.
Your fingers curl around the leather leash clipped to Caleb’s collar, that simple black band hugging his throat. He’s on all fours between your spread thighs, his puppy ears twitching—soft, floppy things you swear weren’t there yesterday, but in this hazy world you two built, they are.
Real as the warm puff of his breath against your skin.
“Stay,” you hear yourself command, voice low and teasing, like you’re coaxing a real pup who’s been too eager all day. The word tugs a whine from him, high and needy, his big purple eyes flicking up to yours in such a pleading look.
God, he’s beautiful like this. Shirtless, sweatpants shoved down just enough to give you a perfect view of his purple, thick and leaking tip. Tail wagging slow behind him because he can’t help it.
You give the leash a gentle yank, not really that hard, just enough to hold him steady under you, inches from where you ache for him. His nose brushes your inner thigh, and you feel the shiver run straight up your spine.
He’s gonna lose it, you think, heart thumping as his tongue darts out—pink, warm, tentative at first because you haven't given your permission yet. My good boy, already shaking.
You lean back on one elbow, the other hand winding the leash tighter around your fist, anchoring him right there. No escaping, no rushing this, and he's aware of that, too. “That’s it, puppy. Right where I need you.”
Caleb’s ears flatten against his messy hair as he leans in, lips parting to lap at your folds—slow, broad strokes that make your hips buck for more before you can stop it.
A soft “Mmmph” vibrates against you, muffled and desperate, like he’s tasting heaven for the first time. You scratch behind one ear with your free fingers, nails digging just right into that fuzzy spot, and he melts.
His whole body goes loose except for his tongue, working faster now, lapping at your clit with these sloppy, devoted swirls. Wet sounds fill the room, mixing with his little pants, and you feel him getting drunk on it—on you—his eyes half lidded, pupils blown wide and full of lust.
Look at him, your mind whispers, fluster heating your cheeks in soft hues of pink as another wave of pleasure coils tight in your belly. Chasing my taste like it’s his favorite treat. What if he never stops?
You tug the leash again, sharper this time, pulling his face flush against your needy hole. He whimpers, an actual puppy-like whine, raw and broken, nuzzling his face deeper, tongue plunging inside you now, fucking in shallow laps that have your thighs clamping around his ears.
“Good puppy,” you gasp, scratching harder, fingers tangling in the soft fur there.
He groans into you, hips rutting uselessly and shamelessly against the air, tail thumping the floor like a drumbeat. His breaths come hot and ragged against your skin, saliva mixing with your slick, dripping down his chin. You can feel him slipping, that hazy drunk-off-you fog settling in, eyelashes fluttering shut, cheeks flushed pink, every lap more frantic, more addicted.
“Caleb…baby, you’re—fuck…you’re so good for me.”
He pulls back just a fraction, lips shiny and swollen, voice wrecked and slurred like he’s three drinks deep. “Yours…all yours, need more…please.”
There's no need for begging prettily, just raw truth and need, eyes glassy as he dives back in, sucking your clit between his lips with a hungry slurp. The leash bites into your palm from how hard you’re holding, keeping him pinned, and it’s everything—his whines vibrating through you, your scratches turning him to jelly, that slow burn of tension coiling until you’re trembling.
He’s mine, you think, biting your lip as the edge rushes up, fast and dizzying. Drunk on me, and I’m gonna cum all over his pretty face. Your free hand fists his hair, ears twitching under your nails, and you shatter—waves crashing hot and endless, thighs squeezing around his head, leash yanking him through it all. Caleb laps like a man possessed, moaning your name into your pussy, drunker than ever, tail wagging wild as he chases every last drop.
When you finally loosen the leash, he doesn’t move, just nuzzles there more desperately than before, panting hard, ears perked as he gazes up with that dopey, sated puppy grin.
“More?” he whispers, voice thick, hopeful, like he could go like this forever. You scratch under his ear slower now, soothing, heart swelling with that achey warmth.
Yeah, you think, tugging him up for a messy kiss. Always more, my perfect boy.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
synopsis °✧୨ৎ when trying to play some spicy videos, there’s a little mishap with the audio—it’s directed to the wrong headphones. Caleb never would’ve guessed that you listen to that kind of thing, or that you’re intentionally watching a man who looks like him. Just like you wouldn’t guess that he’s listening in, watching your depravity while engaging in a form even worse.
content °✧୨ৎ watching porn, masturbation & being caught, voyeurism, mention of him doing non-specified things to your panties, no pronouns used for reader, afab reader, unspoken mutual attraction, he’s perverted and pathetic, guilt & shame, narration shaped by his perception once it switches to his POV, mentions of squirting, mentions of some potential coercion/manipulation (his thoughts)
a/n °✧୨ৎ This was more of just thoughts I had (around 700-800 words), without proofreading. Fingers crossed that it makes sense. I have too many scenarios for Caleb in my brain & it's hard to prioritize so I may just make a bullet point list atp. It’s just so hard to decide when Caleb’s so yummm!
Adjusting the volume is useless, no audio can be heard. That symbol atop your screen insists a successful connection, while your earbuds completely negate that. Even after rebooting them, the result is unchanged. Did you select a defective pair? It's been less than a month since their purchase, no way they're already broken. If they truly can't be salvaged, hopefully you'll qualify for a refund.
Whatever.
You're not in the mood for further inspection. That invigorating sensation between your legs is escalating, anticipating what you’re about to do. Imagination will have substitute for the lack of sound.
Content like this, behavior like this, are relatively novel to you. An innocent refresh plastered it onto your feed a few weeks ago. You’ve encountered explicit media before. But not a video like that, in such an ideal, private setting.
Stumbling upon it felt sinful, considered the resemblance that caught your attention—the strong reaction it garnered made it even worse. You couldn’t bring yourself to scroll past it, compelled to click.
Humans are naturally curious creatures. Of course, that’s all it was.
So you watched the entirety of it, multiple times…multiple days.
And once again, displayed on your screen, is that specific guy from before. The similarities somewhat mimic what you actually want, through a less blatant route. This way, there’s still a sliver of deniability. Envisioning it directly would be an official acknowledgment. You’re avoiding that burden.
So instead, you use that man as ‘stand-in,’ substituting him with the one who truly plagues your mind.
*.☽ .* : ☆ ｡ﾟ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽.*
“Connected.”
Yet, Caleb’s music is still playing from his phone speaker. Aside from the announced pairing, his headphones are quiet.
Until they aren’t.
They finally play…something?
…definitely not the expected song—it’s not a song at all.
Moaning? Heavy breathing? Where could that even be coming from?
He doesn't even watch that kind of thing. When he attempted to, it was ultimately pointless. Only the thought of you can actually get him off.
Then, could it be some open tab with an autoplay feature?
None of those explanations are convincing enough.
The source is already known, just difficult to believe. To be sure, his devices are checked, all corroborating what’s been deduced.
It’s not him, leaving one feasible culprit.
You.
Since when do you look at stuff like that? And why?
Powering off his headphones would be the practical, obvious solution. It would be so simple to just disconnect, pretend it never happened. He’d let you assume some malfunction is to blame.
That’s what he should do.
But he doesn’t.
Curiosity is just human nature, right? He’s far too intrigued to stop listening.
You’ve really complicated things—doing something like this, broadcasting it without realizing. You’ve detailed exactly what you’re into, indirectly admitting what you’re, almost certainly, doing to yourself. That image has already infiltrated his mind. Now backed by reality, its effect is even more potent.
The proximity, convenience, the knowledge you’ve supplied him, it’s all far too dangerous.
He could find you, right now, easily. A few yards and he’d be at your door.
Hopefully, it’s closed at the very least…
It’s really not his fault he ends up there, aside a small gap that fate cruelly left him.
Foolish mistake.
If you’re going to engage in such activities, you can’t be so careless.
It’s too late now.
His headphones have been abandoned on a counter. You’re mindful of your noise, but not enough to fully conceal it. Leaning against the wall, he listens to that undeniable confirmation.
Fuck—he can hear way too much, see way too much without even using his eyes—you’ve audibly mapped it for him.
He wants to look, so bad,
he just. can’t.
handle It.
One quick glance. That’s the limit he vows to abide by, a little less reprehensible than full-on staring.
But, it’s discarded the moment he finds you in such a reckless position. Facing away from him, hips slightly raised, you’re barely covered.
Those are his favorite panties of yours. As the one in charge of laundry, his brain keeps inventory. He hates himself for remembering every pair in your collection. The things he’s done to them are downright disgusting—especially, that red lace currently clinging to you, outlining your swollen folds. Your pussy swallows that tiny thing, peeking from the sides, exposing a portion of what he was never supposed to see.
Did you simply forget he’d be home or are you just that lost in it?
Or maybe…did you want him to watch?
It’s a delusional idea, but it makes his heart jolt, pounding so fast he fears it could burst.
Lying on your stomach, each movement is impatient, anchoring him to the sight.
He really tries to do the right thing, to turn around and leave. His feet won’t comply. Those precious sounds of yours are irresistible, kicking his knees in, forcing an arm to the wall for steadying.
The unclasping of his belt, lowering of his pants, is mindless. He strokes himself to the view, gawking at the dampness accumulating under your fingers. It’s expanding across that scarlet fabric he knows all too well, spreading to the surrounding skin, pouring onto the sheets.
He never pictured you’d produce so much of it. He wonders what amount that sweet cunt would give him. Surely, he could milk even more, have you squirt around his cock while struggling to take it. And a perfect opportunity has been handed to him.
Perhaps, you’re horny enough to be convinced.
How pathetic is he?
These sick thoughts shouldn’t even cross his mind. Yet, he’s furiously pumping his dick to them, bringing on an embarrassingly quick climax. He bites his lip, subduing the name clawing at his throat, spurting the product of his filth. Rope after shameful rope splatters onto the wall, sullying the pants at his knees and the ground underneath.
His palms hurriedly wipe the evidence, smearing it into slick patches. He can only hope that it will go unnoticed. The entrance to your room will forever hold this perverted secret.
“C-Caleb?”
Credit for the dividers: @uzmacchiato for the pink clouds, @cafekitsune for the mdni and hearts!
content °✧୨ৎ pseudocest + use of gege/meimei, smut w/o real plot, blowjob, mentions gagging, cum eating, masturbation, pillow riding, voyeurism/exhibitionism (you’re caught and he watches), brief mentioned size kink, use of “good girl”
wc °✧୨ৎ around 1.1k (likely contains typos + grammar mistakes)
You can’t stop thinking about him in every way you shouldn’t. You’re forced to endure it silently, mocked by the circumstances. It’s torture; he’ll do pushups in the living room, groan loudly while stretching, walk around in a towel. Each bite given is sickeningly delicious, but they all carry a bitter reminder
it’s an unattainable craving.
You’ve attempted to hush it—riding your pillow to the snores seeping through the thin wall. It was never enough. So an idea surfaced for an alternate approach. Once tried on a whim, it was doomed to become a pattern.
When conditions allow for it, you can’t help yourself.
Today everything aligned flawlessly. A note on the counter informed you of his whereabouts. You’ve been granted an empty house for a few hours.
Within seconds, you’re invading that space of pure him. His energy still lingers, radiating from every object. It’s especially potent in the sheets. Burying your face there, you breathe in that unique scent. Every inhale injects him into your veins.
You don’t stop there.
You lower yourself onto his pillow, mentally replacing it with the man who owns it—owns you; the shirt draped over your flushed skin is a testament to that. It also belongs to him. Every fiber is charged with such an intimate feeling, like he’s participating in each moment.
Typically, a layer of separation is maintained. However, your mind is ridden with lust, leaving minimal room for much else. Just this once, you’ll make an exception. The evidence can be swapped with a clean replacement.
Your panties are removed and placed beside you. Cunt now exposed, it directly hits the fabric. Lathered in his DNA, It’s practically him underneath you.
The thought submerges you deeper into fantasy. You’re held captive by vivid scenes.
Moderating your volume becomes increasingly difficult. A low noise is nearly missed, almost assumed to be imagined. It takes you a moment to fully register the origin—external, behind you.
It’s a very real Caleb.
Frantically swathing yourself in the duvet, you refuse to turn.
Anticipating your confusion, he explains; the duration he’d be gone was deliberately overstated. Apparently, he knew you’d been up to something and wanted to catch you in the act. The information is kept vague. What roused suspicion isn’t specified. All you can is drum up various possibilities.
You’ve been herded into a trap of your own making.
“Why so silent? You weren’t a few moments ago. Hmmm…what was it you were saying?” He pauses, entering your line of vision. “Ohh, I remember. It was something like ‘gege—feels so m’good—ah!’”
Hearing it aloud is nauseating. Desperation rips a rushed apology from your throat. You’d do anything for a sliver of grace, to get away from this situation.
“Then show me what you’ve done. If you’re truly sorry, you’ll take full accountability.”
Panic ensues as he gestures to your lower-half. No way you can do what he’s alluding to. You stammer those words but it’s pointless. He doesn’t budge.
“You can do it. You’re not leaving until then.”
There’s finality in his tone. It’s not a request or suggestion, but a fact that can’t be negotiated.
Your arms reject instructions. Even when you try to move, you just can’t.
Signaling you to continue, he just waits and waits, until the bedding is finally shifted aside. It takes every ounce of bravery for you to do so. The length of your (his) shirt provides coverage but not enough for true reassurance. Your legs press together, diligently hiding what’s between them.
But that doesn’t satisfy him. You’re told to lift up.
You tug the hem below your mid thigh and hold it there. Raising to your knees, you look straight ahead.
“Aww, don’t get all shy on me now. How can you acknowledge your actions while starin’ at the wall?”
With a reluctant sigh, your eyes lower. They double in size when they see what’s beneath you. It’s a puddle, far more incriminating than expected.
“Wearing my clothes, dripping all over my stuff…so greedy,” he tuts, voice effortlessly seductive—like a siren’s song, luring you deeper into desire. You’ve already been sinking. There’s no chance of resurfacing.
That affliction you’ve been harboring is stronger than anything else.
Shame, once bubbling under his observation, already seems less prevalent. All focus is channeled to what’s in front of you; that visible enjoyment straining against his pants. The outline makes your mouth water.
You sit back down, whimpering as friction returns to your clit.
“Such a good girl, following orders before they’re even given. Now pull up the shirt a little, show me how pretty my meimei’s pussy is.”
His words bind you like a spell; they’re obeyed automatically. You grind against his pillow, ruining it—ruining yourself. Being watched so closely is encouraging you to fully showcase your depravity. It’s all for him, because of him.
All pride is abandoned. You beg for his touch, but the pleas are denied. You’re teased instead. Just of reach, he rubs himself over his pants, ravenous expression locked onto you.
He’s such a bully.
Thankfully, he can’t refrain for too long. He soon caves and unleashes his dick. it smacks onto your face, extending past your head.
The size difference is a threat to his sanity. He loves how small you are compared to him. “To atone for your behavior, you gotta help me out, okay? Just this once.”
Your hips slow. “How do I…?”
He finds it amusing; after such lewd acts, you now seem so innocent. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”
You familiarize yourself with his cock, handling it so cautiously. You study its weight before gently tracing the shaft and cupping his balls. With a timid lick, you gather the liquid beading at his tip. You gaze up at him unsure, searching for approval. The sight makes him curse. It’s a miracle he doesn’t cum on the spot.
He nods with a breathy hum, cueing your descent.
A few inches down, you’re already choking. His fingers weave into your hair to act as a guide. You’re clutching his leg like a lifeline, drool dribbling to your chin, teary eyes locked to his. Even shaking and overwhelmed, you’re determined to devour more.
So fucking cute.
He’ll train you to take him in all ways.
Because, it was never going to be just once.
Now experiencing exactly what he’d been abstaining from, there’s no reverting to ignorance. This will happen again and again. Every chance will be seized. More will constantly be arranged.
And that’s exactly what he tells you, alongside every filthy thing he’s going to do.
The detailed descriptions flood you with anticipation. Your hips roll faster, moans becoming consecutive—one crashing into another between intermittent gagging.
He’s equally loud, just as close as you are. Both orgasms coincide perfectly. You gush onto his pillow while he fills your mouth. Winded and dazed, you slump against each-other.
i've been searching for a fic in ao3 abt a character study of caleb, and he's kind of described as a guard dog or smth of the like. i think it's two chapters in (? or three) and it tells how caleb is a protector but also is selfish in his own way as one would describe a dog's loyalty and indulgence. it's really good, and i've been trying to scrounge for it in my history, and i really just can't seem to find it. so please help a girl out (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)(*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)
♡ Contents: 18+ NSFW, Fluff to smut, Established Relationship, Camping Trip, Outdoor Setting, nudity, Consensual Sexual Content, unprotected sex, creampie, Semi-Public Setting
The first thing Caleb registers is warmth.
Not the usual kind, the steady, background heat of tangled blankets or the low hum of his spaceships climate system, but something softer, heavier, alive. It presses gently against his chest, shifts slightly with each breath he takes. Then comes the faint, impatient huff above him.
He exhales a quiet laugh before even opening his eyes. “You’re staring at me again, aren’t you?”
A pause. “…No.”
His eyes crack open just enough to catch you immediately, chin propped on your forearms, elbows planted on his bare chest, hovering over him like you’ve been waiting for hours.
“Uh-huh.” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep. “And you’re definitely not vibrating with excitement either.”
“I am not vibrating.” you protest, though your smile gives you away instantly.
He lets his head sink deeper into the pillow, studying you properly now, amusement warming his expression. “You hate mornings. More than once I've feared for my life whenever I had to wake you up.”
“That’s different.” you insist, pouting, leaning closer, eyes bright. “This is camping.”
Caleb huffs softly, one hand coming up to rest lazily at your waist. “We’re not even there yet.”
“I know, but we will be—if someone gets up.” you poke his side, his muscles punching under your finger.
He chuckles and arches a brow. “Someone?”
“Yes. Someone who said he’d take me to a national park and show me all his ‘elite survival skills.’” You wiggle your fingers in mock emphasis.
He snorts, tugging you down just enough, so that your weight settles more fully against him, like a warm human blanket. Caleb loves this, feeling your weight press down on him, your heart beat against his chest, mingling with his own pulse as they sync. He presses a few slow and lazy kisses to your temple and cheeks.
“You mean the skills that are going to keep you from freezing the second we get near that lake?” he teases, nuzzling your nose with his.
“I won’t freeze!” you pout childishly.
“You will absolutely freeze.”
You narrow your eyes at him, but the grin never leaves your face. “Get up.”
“Bossy.”
“Caleb.”
He sighs dramatically, though his arms tighten around you for a brief second before he finally relents. “Alright, alright. I’m up.”
“You’re still lying down.”
“Mentally, I’m up.”
You swat his shoulder. He laughs, fully awake now, and rolls, taking you with him easily in a tangle of limbs and blankets before either of you can overthink the moment.
“Five minutes.” he bargains into your hair, his arms like a warm cage around your ribs.
“You said that ten minutes ago.”
“Then I’m consistent.” he murmurs, kissing your nape.
Driving out of Lincoln feels like peeling away layers. Concrete gives way to open roads and glass towers give way to expanses of greenery that seem to breathe more easily than anything back in the big cities you live in. You both shed your roles as the skilled hunter and the stern colonel, and are left with your true selves. The inseparable pair you have been ever since you were able to form thoughts. You know each other better than your own reflection in a mirror.
With your feet tucked up in the passenger seat and the music low, your fingers tap restlessly against your leg while Caleb drives with one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh. He squeezes it occasionally just to check you’re still there.
You keep pointing things out. Trees. Clouds. A bird that might’ve just been a smudge.
He hums along to the songs on the radio, smiles when you sing with all your heart.
By the time you reach the trailhead, your excitement has only gotten worse.
Caleb shoulders most of the gear before you can even argue, adjusting straps with practiced ease.
“I can carry something.” you say, hands on your hips.
“You are carrying something.”
“What?”
He taps your forehead lightly. “Enthusiasm.” Caleb taps the small backpack holding toiletries, clothes and your sleeping bag. "And that."
You gape at him. “That’s both not heavy!”
“Debatable.”
You try to grab one of the bags anyway. He lifts it just out of reach without looking, already starting down the trail.
“Caleb—!”
“Keep up.” he calls over his shoulder.
The hike is, more intense than you expected. Quite steep in places and rocky.
Not impossible, but enough that you’re breathing harder than you’d like to admit. Caleb notices, of course he does, but says nothing, just slows his pace subtly, adjusting to match yours without making a big deal of it. You feel your backpack lifting subtly halfway through the hike, and realize he's using his evol to lighten your already small load. You don't say anything, the two of you just keep hiking, until finally you find the spot Caleb was aiming for.
The forest wraps around you, quiet and alive all at once. Sunlight filters through leaves in soft, shifting patterns. Somewhere nearby, water moves, steady and inviting.
“You hear that?” you ask.
“Lake’s close.” he replies with a nod.
You pick up your pace immediately, motivated again. He laughs under his breath.
The lake stretched out far before you. Like a blue mirror glistening in the sun. Still and calm. A few geese swim in the distance.
"Lets go for a dip!" You say excitedly and drop your backpack, already starting on shedding your clothes.
"It'll be cold, Pips." Caleb says with a sigh, but starts undressing too.
The water is colder than you imagined. But it feels embarrassing to admit that now. You dip a toe into the edge of the lake and shudder.
“I told you.”
“It’s not that bad." you argue, just to be right, even as you retreat another step.
Caleb pulls off his shirt with a smirk. “You coming in or just going to negotiate with it?”
You glare. “Give me a second.”
He doesn’t. He walks straight into the lake, barely reacting as the water rises around him. Show-off.
You take a breath, count to five and follow.
The cold hits all at once, sharp and shocking, and you gasp, half-laughing as you wade deeper.
“It’s freezing! Fuck.” you glide, half doggy paddling to get warm, flailing around. "Oh fuck."
“You’re fine." he calls, already a few steps ahead.
You splash water at him in retaliation. He dodges most of it, but not all.
“Oh, you’re starting something now?”
“You started it by being smug!”
He closes the distance in a few quick strides, water rippling around him, and suddenly you’re both laughing like kids, splashing, dodging, slipping in the shallows until doesn’t matter anymore. You barely feel it with Caleb's arms wrapped around you as he tries to pull you under the water with him.
For a moment, everything else fades. Its just you and him, like it always was, and the safety you only ever feel in his arms.
Setting up the tent is less than graceful.
“You said you knew how to do this.” you say, holding a pole at what is definitely the wrong angle.
“I do.” Caleb replies, crouched on the other side, trying not to laugh. “You’re just not following instructions.”
“You said ‘hold it steady!’”
“That is not steady.”
“It is steady!”
The tent collapses halfway through assembly. You both stare at it. Then at each other. Then you both start laughing.
“Okay.” Caleb says, wiping at his eyes. “We’re regrouping.”
“Your fault.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Your fault. By default.”
He steps closer, taking the pole from your hands, fingers brushing yours briefly. “Come here." he says more softly. “I’ll show you, Pips.”
You stay close this time. Closer than necessary. The tent goes up properly on the second try. You roll out your sleeping bags in the small space, making it cozy. "Are you sure you'll fit?" You ask, looking up at him through the tents opening as he chops vegetables. "Won't your legs stick out?"
Caleb rolls his eyes, he doesn’t look up from the potato he's peeling. "I think I'll be just fine. I have Linkons best hunter to keep me warm after all." He replies.
By evening, the forest shifts again, its colors deepening, the air cooling.
Caleb builds the fire with practiced ease, his movements efficient and controlled. You watch him from where you’re wrapped in a blanket, still damp from the lake, trying to warm up.
“Show-off.” you mutter.
He smirks without looking up. “You love it.”
The fire catches. The scent of smoke and earth fills the air.
Soon, there’s a pot set over the flames, something warm and savory bubbling gently inside. Caleb sits beside you, pulling you closer without asking, your side pressed to his.
“You’re cold.” he notes.
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re shivering.”
“I’m… lightly vibrating.”
He huffs a laugh, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you fully into his lap and against his chest. “There it is again, that stubbornness I love.” he presses a few kisses to your cold hands, blowing on them while holding them in both of his. "Let me warm you."
You relax into him, smiling softly. Melting in his familiar care.
The stew simmers. The fire crackles.
For a while, neither of you says anything.
Later, with sticky fingers from melted chocolate and marshmallows, you lie back on the grass beside him, staring up at a black sky scattered with bright stars.
“There,” Caleb says, pointing. “See that cluster? That’s—”
“I don’t see it.”
“You do.”
“I don’t.”
He shifts closer, guiding your gaze with his hand, his arm brushing yours. “Follow the line from that bright one. Then up.”
“…Oh.”
“Yeah?”
“Okay, that’s kind of cool.”
“Kind of?”
He launches into an explanation anyway, names, patterns, stories tied to constellations you’ve never cared about before.
"That's Polaris, the north star. Brightest in the sky. It's part of Ursa Minor, the Little Dipper." He explains and you listen closely, following his finger. "And you see that underneath it? Thats the Big Dipper."
Caleb turns to look at you, smiling. "Just like us. Big and small. Inseparable." He presses a soft kiss to your temple
The night deepens.
The air grows cooler.
The space between words disappears.
At some point, you stop pretending to look at the sky.
At some point, he stops talking about constellations.
The world narrows to warmth, breath, the quiet pull of closeness that neither of you resists.
His hand finds yours.
Your fingers lace together.
And when he leans in, it feels inevitable.
The fire crackles softly nearby.
The stars keep watching.
Everything else fades.
Before you know it youre both naked underneath the stars. It'd be cold, if Caleb weren't settled over you, his heat radiating off him. His lips and tongue trail along the column of your throat. Leaving own marks and constellations in their wake. His hands grip your hips while he grinds against you, his growing erection pressing against your heated core.
"Want you so bad, Pips." He rasps, suckling at your pebbled nipples. Worshipping each one with his lips and tongue, alternating between long, slow licks and quick, teasing flicks of his tongue over your sensitive peaks. "Beautiful... so perfect..."
One hand drifts lower, palming the curve of your ass before slipping lower to stroke the smooth skin of your inner thigh, inching higher with maddening slowness.
"Tell me what you need. How can I pleasure you?" Caleb's pupils are blown wide with pleasure as he looks up at you from the valley between your breasts. Like a puppy.
"Want you." You whisper, hand wrapping around his hard length, stroking maddeningly slow.
"Fuck-" he hisses. "Right here or... the tent?"
You give his cock another tug and he doesn't care about being out in the open anymore. With a low, almost animalistic growl, he captures your lips in a searing kiss, plundering your mouth with his tongue as he grinds his rigid length against your core.
"Gonna make you feel so good baby." He rasps against your lips, nipping at the bottom one.
Settling between your thighs, he notches the broad head of his cock against your slick entrance, teasing you with shallow thrusts that barely breach you.
Finally, he thrusts deeply, sheathing himself to the hilt in one big thrust. A moan tears from his throat at the exquisite sensation of your tight heat engulfing me.
The stars double in the sky as you look up at them, your vision swimming. Your nails dig into Caleb's shoulders, and he grunts in response. Like always, he gives you a moment to adjust to his length and girth, before he starts to move.
"Fuck- so warm and tight." He moans, his hips grinding against yours with each forceful thrust. His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass, bruising, pulling you impossibly closer to him while he sets a relentless pace.
You whimper every time the head of him slams against your cervix, back arching off the grass, your toes curling. "Good girl. Taking me so well." He praises, pressing sloppy kisses to your lips.
He grunts, angling his hips to ensure he hits the right spot over and over again until you're spasming from pleasure. "You're doing so well, taking me so perfectly." He mumbles, babbling on and on, talking you through it.
He reaches between your sweat slicked bodies, finding your clit, circling the swollen nub with the pad of his thumb as he continues his brutal pace.
He can feel his climax building rapidly along with yours, your walls fluttering around him, squeezing and pulling him in deeper. He grunts, his thrusts turning erratic and sloppy as he nears the edge. "So close. Look at me. C'mon baby." Caleb cups your cheek with one hand so you look up at him while you come.
He buries himself to the root one last time, grinding against your cervix as he explodes, painting your insides white with thick ropes of his hot cum. Stars spark before your eyes. You moan and ramble about how much you love him and how good Caleb is to you, while he fucks both of you through your orgasms.
As the aftershocks of your intense lovemaking subside, Caleb slows inside of you, pulling out after a few more languid thrusts. He collapses onto the grass beside you, gathering your limp form into his arms and holding you close. His breathing gradually evens out as he peppers soft kisses across your sweat-dampened brow and cheeks.
"You ok?" He rasps, fingers threading through your hair while he cradles you against his chest. You hum in response, spent, sleepy and content.
"Lets get you into the tent." He suggests, and lifts you effortlessly, carrying you over to your humble abode for the night.
You're already drifting to sleep while Caleb gently cleans you, wiping down your thighs and delicate folds with a wet cloth. "My perfect girl." He whispers, kissing your soft skin everywhere he can reach.
He settles beside you in the sleeping bag, skin to skin, his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Caleb buries his nose deep into your hair.
At the nape of your neck you still smell like you did years ago. Always like home. Now your scents are mixed, you smell partly like him, and that almost gets him hard again.
"I love you. So so much." He whispers against your neck. "More than you could ever realize."
Morning comes too soon.
“Wake up.” Caleb says softly, caressing your cheeks.
You groan, burying your face deeper into the sleeping bag. “No.”
“Come on.”
“It’s illegal to be awake right now.”
You feel him shift beside you, hear the soft clink of something being set down.
Then... coffee.
The smell alone is enough to drag you halfway back to consciousness.
“…You made coffee?”
“Obviously.”
You crack one eye open. He’s sitting just outside the tent, silhouetted against a sky painted in soft oranges and golds, a steaming cup held out toward you.
“You’re ridiculous.” you mumble, but you take the metal mug anyway.
“Drink.”
You sit up slowly, still wrapped in warmth, and follow his gaze.
The sun rises over the forest, light spilling through the trees in quiet, breathtaking waves.
For once, you don’t complain about the morning. You lean against him instead. And he leans back.
A/N: Honestly very self indulgent, and inspired by that one card where Caleb, MC and her colleagues go camping combined with the fact that Caleb probably has military training on surviving in the wild incase of having to eject from his jet and stuff... he's just good at everything
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
• pairing: frat boy!caleb x reader
• genre/tags: frat boy au, college au, smut with plot, dom!mc x dom!caleb, begging, dirty talk, loooooots of tension
• synopsis: everyone's favorite frat boy. he had everyone wrapped around his finger—everyone except you. it seemed as though you were the only person who had him at your beck and call, no matter what you asked ...
• word count: 3.7k words
• notes: 18+ content (mdni). STARTING WITH OUR FAVORITE RESIDENT FRAT BOY LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO
“you’re looking a little empty, pretty girl.”
you turn to the source of the unfamiliar voice and arch a brow, peering between the guy standing before you and the remnants of your vodka and lemonade concoction. he’s not someone you recognize, likely a sophomore and a new addition to the lambda alpha delta house. you lean in just enough to so that he can hear you over the bass pounding against the thin kitchen walls.
“i got it,” you assure him, reaching behind you for one of the bottles of cheap vodka lined up on the sticky counter. color flushes his cheeks, more than the liquor as he nods once and bows out.
“aw, don’t break the kid’s heart.” caleb saunters into the kitchen soon after, chuckling when he brings the rim of his red solo cup to his lips. you scoff and add your mixer with a subtle shake of your head.
“oh, lambda boys,” you tease, propping up against the counter again as the president himself approaches you. he stares down at you with his drink in hand, his broad frame towering over yours. you catch the scent of his cologne, sharp and woody in comparison to the herbal smoke wafting from the open doors to the balcony.
“acting like you don’t love us,” he retorts, about to receive an earful from you when a shrill voice interjects.
“caleb!” a girl that you’ve seen in passing at previous pregames peers around the archway, her eyes half-lidded and a giddy smile plastered across her face. “we need one more for king’s cup.”
“convenient.” you can’t stifle the laugh that escapes you and caleb rolls his eyes, nudging you gently before he flashes a grin in the other girl’s direction.
“duty calls,” he chirps, downing the rest of his drink and tossing the cup into the garbage bag strung along the back of one of the house’s dining chairs. he glances back at you over his shoulder with a wink. “save a shot for me, pretty girl.”
the way caleb mocks the younger brother that had approached you earns another laugh from you and you try to ignore the way it ignites a different sensation in you when he says it.
“yo, i didn’t even realize you were here already!” gideon barrels into the kitchen from the balcony, his eyes bloodshot and his body heavy as he saunters over to you, high as hell.
“bro, i said hi to you twice already.”
“you’re lying, bro,” he slurs, brushing a hand through his cropped hair before he glances over your shoulder. “what’re you drinking?”
“vodka and juice,” you reply, watching as he fumbles with the glass bottles behind you.
“where’s caleb?”
“either still playing king’s cup or in one of the bathrooms upstairs getting his dick sucked.” you glance into the living room, no sign of caleb to be found and your suspicions confirmed. it was no secret that caleb was considered a real prize to be won when it came to hanging out at their frat house and it seems like he’d chosen his lucky winner for the night.
“jealous?” gideon hums, leaning against you before a hiccup jolts his body upright.
“why would i be?” you narrow your eyes at him, reaching for his wrist so that you could drag him along to the living room. “now, c’mon. i want to queue something for the music.”
“as long as it’s not cardi again,” he grumbles as you string him along with a tight grip on his drink.
immediately, you’re roped into different conversations across the room until you finally make it to the speakers where someone’s phone is already connected. you swipe at the screen, sticky from someone else’s drink until your songs are queued. gideon pulls you by your waist into the center of the living room where the crowd huddled into a makeshift dance floor.
the familiar buzz of liquor overcomes every inch of you as you sing along, arms above your head and twirling around along with gideon. you find yourself pulled into another lambda boy’s arms, one you vaguely recognize by his silver hair and piercing scarlet eyes. his body towers over yours, a large palm pressed to your stomach so that you’re drawn in closer.
it’s when he turns you towards the staircase that you’re eye to eye with caleb, the same girl from earlier clinging to his bicep with staggered steps and a flushed smile gracing her features. he cocks a brow at the sight of you, a disbelieving half-grin hanging from his lips as you meet him with a devilish glint in your eyes.
you’re turned around again when caleb suddenly pulls you out of the living room, his grip firm on your wrist until he releases you in the kitchen. you can’t help but scoff at his reaction and reach for the vodka again.
“what’s the matter?” you tease as you blink up at him through your eyelashes. you twist off the cover and summon him with a curled finger, beckoning him to lower himself to your level. “i think you might need another shot.”
“if you say so,” he chuckles, but the sound is dry before he tilts his head back with one knee on the tiled floor. you thread a hand through his hair, your grip firm enough to force his lips to part with a soft gasp. he swallows down the bitter liquor like a champ and straightens, a hiss slipping out of him when he nods to you. “what, i can’t return the favor?”
“i can take care of myself,” you retort, throwing your head back to mimic his shot. setting the bottle back onto the counter, you’re about to speak again when gideon stumbles back into the kitchen.
“there you are!” he exclaims at the sight of caleb, throwing an arm over his best friend’s shoulders. caleb’s eyes don’t leave yours, his face flushed from a mix of intoxication and whatever unspoken attraction lingered between the pair of you.
there were plenty of opportunities for you to hook up with caleb in the past; he was willing to bend at the snap of your fingers. regardless, you knew the reputation he held and the way that girls on campus fawned over him. you refused to bow to his bidding and kept him at arm’s length, something he found equal parts intriguing and frustrating.
“thought y’all would be fucking by now,” gideon slurs, a drunken grin crossing his face while caleb glares as if to warn him.
“funny,” you say, glancing down at your nail beds as if you could be less interested, “i thought y’all would be fucking by now.”
“hey, man, i’ve tried,” gideon chuckles, patting a hand against caleb’s cheek affectionately. you laugh at the two men towering over you, thoroughly enjoying the way gideon was getting under caleb’s skin while he thought he’d been able to steal you away for a moment.
“one little kiss wouldn’t hurt,” you offer as if to compromise, gesturing between them before you glance around the kitchen. “not like anyone’s watching.”
“you’re watching,” caleb points out, narrowing his gaze at you.
“i think it’d be hot,” you say plainly, biting on the tip of your index fingernail to stifle your laugh at the way caleb’s eyes light up at that.
“… really?”
“mhm,” you answer nonchalantly as you brace yourself on the edge of the kitchen counter. “be a good boy for me, why don’t you?”
there it was.
the way that caleb crumbled at your disposal when he wouldn’t even bat an eye if someone else had asked the same of him. it was otherworldly the way he bended at your whim, be it to join you for a night out or to grab you another drink when you couldn’t be bothered to leave the dance floor. you’d have him waiting, near begging for an opportunity to cross a line with you that you’d held firm for the past several years.
not that you hadn’t considered the possibility; you weren’t blind.
his amethyst eyes darken at the pet name you assign him, oblivious to gideon’s tittering beside him as he meets your eyes in a silent question of how serious you were. you stare at him as if to affirm that you were dead serious.
with a roll of his eyes—even though you could wager money on the fact that he’d willingly kiss gideon, regardless—he grabs the other man by his jaw and captures his lips in a fleeting peck. gideon blinks from the surprise, as if he needed to clear haze from his eyes while color rushed to his already flushed face.
“that’s it?” you scoff, arms crossed over your torso. the alcohol creeping along your veins had you reeling, eager to encourage them to be even more risqué. “oh, well.”
“bro, you gotta commit,” gideon hiccups before he grabs caleb by the face and near shoves his tongue down his throat. you watch as caleb’s body grows rigid before he relaxes, finally reciprocating to your enjoyment. you hum approvingly, your own body reacting in a way you weren’t used to.
they finally separate and stare back at you, waiting for you to say something, anything that would indicate that you approved of their second attempt.
“not bad, boys,” you commend, threading a hand through your hair when you see the way caleb’s purple eyes brighten at your praise. “i’m running to the bathroom, but i better see more of that when i get back downstairs.”
“yes, ma’am,” gideon answers, a lazy salute against his forehead before he slumps into one of the chairs at the dining table to roll another blunt. caleb stares after you as you scale the stairs to one of the more secluded bathrooms. you don’t do anything other than stare at your reflection lovingly, quick to take several mirror pictures to document just how good you looked for the night. you hear the low thump of the bass from downstairs and mouth the words as you fish for your lip gloss in your back pocket and apply a fresh coat.
you barely take a step out into the hall when you feel a hand wrapped back around your wrist, familiar as ever as you’re corralled into the room at the end of the second floor. the primary suite, typically reserved for the frat president. the aged oak door slams shut, against the bass from the living room before your back is slammed against it and the wind is nearly knocked out of you.
caleb towers over you, large palms pressed against either side of your head as he cranes his neck to meet your gaze. his pupils are blown wide, lips swollen from earlier as he scans your face hungrily. you ignore the way your heart pounds against your ribcage and press your palms against his torso in an attempt to return him to arm’s length.
“can i help you?” you ask, able to earn some semblance of space between the pair of you.
“i need to fuck you,” he says plainly, his chest staggering with every deep breath. “i can’t keep playing this game with you.”
“why, because i made you kiss gideon?” you taunt and he rolls his eyes, his hand trailing until it closes around your throat with a firm grip. he presses his lips to the shell of your ear with a low growl.
“fuck gideon,” he quips, “you know how badly i want you.”
“do i?” you coax, feigning ignorance just to hear him beg for your permission.
“c’mon, baby girl,” he hums, pulling away and pressing his forehead against yours with a deep sigh. “acting like you have no clue.”
“i don’t know if i’m convinced,” you lilt, snaking out of his grasp and moving to sit of the edge of his bed. he follows you obediently and you loop a finger into the collar of his shirt to lower him onto his knees. he settles between your thighs, his palms pressing your legs apart when he realizes you’re not protesting.
“don’t actions speak louder than words?” he asks, his voice growing huskier by the second as he presses a kiss against your inner thigh. you bite down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the whimper lingering at the tip of your tongue. his eyes look even more ethereal beneath the low glow from his bedside lamp, the only source of light in the otherwise dark room. “don’t make me beg.”
“might need you to,” you chide, reaching for his jaw to press your fingers against his cheeks so that his mouth would fall open. “beg for me, pretty boy.”
“seriously?” caleb arches a brow at you in disbelief, his fingers digging deeper into your flesh as you huff at his hesitation.
“i mean, if you don’t want to—”
caleb pulls you firmly enough so that your legs are on either of his shoulders, his fingers tracing long, languid strokes along your skin that send a shiver up your spine. his gaze remains fixated on yours as he drags his tongue across his bottom lip. you can see the way his pride is eating him alive until he finally succumbs.
“i need to feel that pretty little mouth of yours on my cock,” he nearly whimpers, another kiss to your inner thigh at an even more dangerous distance from your clothed entrance. your skirt hikes further up your waist as he shifts to expose your panties. “need to hear the kind of sounds you make when i fuck you into this mattress.”
“oh, that’d be rude,” you drawl, ensuring your voice remains steady as you gesture to the door behind him. “there’s guests downstairs.”
“i don’t give a fuck,” he scoffs, “let them hear it.”
you don’t know what it was about caleb on this particular night that had you on the edge of your seat. maybe it was the extra—several—shots of vodka, the way he looked at you while you were in someone else’s arms, the cat-and-mouse game that had dragged on for so long that you were now seniors that hadn’t laid a single finger on one another.
well, before tonight.
“you got a belt?”
caleb blinks as you lower your feet back onto the ground and he unhooks the belt from the loops of his cargos. he hands the worn leather to you, watching with unspoken confusion before you grab his wrists and quickly bind them together.
“the fuck?” he jerks his wrists against the restraints, as surprised as you are that they held so well. a grin splits across your face as you watch his settle onto his haunches in defeat. “what’re you doing—”
“just having a little fun with you,” you answer casually, tracing a fingernail along his jawline, down his neck, across his collarbone. you settle at his waist just before the hem of his pants. “that okay?”
caleb’s lips part in silent protest as you lean back onto the sheets and tug your leather skirt up to your waist, black lace on full display for him as you snake a hand between your legs. his eyes practically devour you as you press the tips of your fingers against your clit, massaging circles through the fabric. the friction coaxes a blissful sigh out of you and you hear the way caleb’s belt buckle clatters from his fighting against the knot.
you keep at it, adjusting your pace every so often so that caleb could have a taste of the kind of sounds that he’d only heard in his dreams. you pause long enough to sit up, meeting the fury in his gaze with mischief in your own as you shove two of your fingers into his mouth. he swirls his tongue obediently around your knuckles, spit glistening on his lips before he releases your fingers with a desperate groan.
hooking a finger on the hem of the lace, you tug your panties to the side and slip your fingers into your entrance with a soft grunt. your chest heaves in an attempt to swallow down deep breaths, your eyes rolling back as you curl your fingers against your inner walls in just the right spot.
“ngh,” you groan as your eyes flutter shut, head against the sheets. “caleb.”
“come on,” he begs at the sound of his name falling from your lips, the sudden sound of a sharp snap and metal clattering to the wooden floorboards causing you to jump before caleb cages your body beneath his against the mattress. “i’m tired of fucking waiting.”
you feel him grab the hem of your skirt and pull it onto the floor, the stitches in your underwear tearing as he rips the lace off of your body. you gasp at his sudden shift before he replaces your fingers with his own, his hand evidently larger and more filling than your own. he doesn’t ease into a steady rhythm, instead opting to pump in and out of you vigorously while his free hand held you upright by the crown of your hair.
“a-ah,” you let out a broken moan, caleb’s stern expression mingled with something more pathetic that you were used to from him. even with pleasure churning in your core from his fingers, you couldn’t help but tease him with a mischievous smile.
“say my name again,” he says, but it escapes him in more of a desperate plea than a command. you hesitate and he groans, wrapping his fingers back around your throat. “please.”
“caleb,” you breathe, the sound spurring him to pick up the pace as he presses his thumb against your clit with pronounced pressure. he pumps his fingers once, twice more until you feel your stomach tighten and you grip the sheets with a drawn-out moan he doesn’t bother to silence.
“that’s it, baby girl,” he praises, riding out your high as he slows his pace. he hovers over you before he pulls out his fingers and brings them to his lips to clean off every last drop of you. he groans at the taste and finally captures your lips in a messy string of kisses. you rake your nails along his exposed biceps in his tank top, his defined muscles tensing under the sting.
“fuck me,” you order, shoving your hand past the hem of his cargos and wrapping your fingers around his shaft. he twitches beneath your touch and nearly collapses onto you, a pathetic nod before he utters,
“yes, ma’am.”
caleb has you pinned to the mattress from every angle after that. clothes strewn on the floor, the headboard slamming against the thin walls to the rhythm of the music downstairs. his body cages yours against the sheets, propped up on his forearms as his hips buck against yours relentlessly. your nails leave long, red streaks along his skin, his teeth sink into your collarbone.
“let ‘em hear you,” he groans against your neck, one of his hands gripping the headboard while the other keeps your thighs apart. you nearly scream at how much he fills you out, his cock stretching your walls as you clench around him. he meets your eyes for a split second and realizes that you’re trying to stifle the sounds that come out of you and falls into a particularly rough string of thrusts. you cry out through gritted teeth as your back arches off of the sheets and he laughs at the sound. “just like that, baby.”
“i’m gonna come,” you breathe, gripping his arms in an attempt to anchor yourself. pleasure thrums along your veins, mingling with the alcohol from earlier as you grow more and more lightheaded. caleb picks up the pace, snaking an arm around your waist to lift you off of the sheets. he hooks your ankles over either of his shoulders, hands steady at your hips as he draws you closer to your climax.
you shudder from the new angle, every inch of him pounding into you as your muscles tense and twitch from the impending orgasm. you gasp, your breathing growing unsteady as you finally come undone and your body grows limp against the sheets. caleb doesn’t let up, keeping his rhythm steady as his own chest heaves with labored breaths.
a whimper slips out of him and you feel your stomach jolt at the sound, making a mental note to find any way you could coax it out of him in the future. his grip tightens at your waist, his hips bucking as you feel him reach his climax and release into you until he’s dripping out of you when he pulls out.
“satisfied?” you ask breathlessly, brushing hair out of your face as you sit up against his headboard. caleb beams at you, looking boyishly handsome despite the fact that he had just fucked you senseless. he shrugs, failing to hide the smile that remains glued to his face as he gathered your clothes and helped you to clean up.
“oh, you have no idea,” he answers as he glances at his reflection in the mirror. the scratches that decorated his arms and collarbone were more than obvious. his lips were swollen and his face was slick with sweat. not that you were any better off, with tousled hair and now no underwear. he turns to you, a twinkle in those amethyst eyes of his. “alright, ready to head back downstairs?”
“am i ready to what now?” you ask, moving to stand beside him and assess your own disheveled reflection.
“well, there’s still a party going on,” he counters, “can’t be a bad host, can i?”
“i think this has less to do with you being a bad president and more to do with you showing off that you just got fucked.”
“eh,” caleb laughs under his breath, intertwining his fingers in yours as he leads you back into the belly of the beast. the sound of gideon hollering from atop one of the folding tables is the first thing to capture your attention. “maybe a little bit of both.”
When you find Caleb making breakfast for you, regret isn’t the only thing that consumes you– You’re livid with yourself for indulging, for doing just what he wanted you to do. And you can’t blame him for your actions, but you can blame him for whistling a happy tune first thing in the morning. Unlike you, he’s clearly happy about last night's events.
“Good morning, beautiful.” He grins when he finally sees you. You roll your eyes and sit down at the dinner table. You don’t bother responding, he doesn’t deserve a single word from your lips. Yet you sit at the table happily, willing to eat whatever he makes for you. One thing is for sure: Caleb knows how to cook. Not too long after you’re sitting comfortably in a chair, there’s a plate full of food in front of you.
He winks. “The kids are still sleeping if you get any ideas.”
He chuckles when you stay silent, the regret clearly bouncing off your body. He should’ve expected as much. Still, that doesn’t stop his cheery self from sitting across from you and attempting to converse. Caleb doesn’t know any boundaries, that’s not a new finding.
“How’d you sleep?” He asks, eyes watching intently as you begin to eat the food that he’s put in front of you. He’s tempted to steal from your plate even though he knows he can simply make himself a plate of food. He’s not really hungry though, the food is just enticing because it’s yours.
“Why don’t you go get breakfast started for the kids?” You try to dismiss him, hoping to get just a little space and tranquility. It’s something that is hard whenever you’re with your kids, yet you really thought it was possible when you decided to come to Skyhaven.
“They’re easy to feed. Just feed them cereal that rots their teeth and they’re set for the entire day.” He chuckles, and though it’s supposed to be a joke, you furrow your brows.
“Caleb, how many times do you feed them when they’re with you?” You ask. While you trust him wholeheartedly, you still want to verify that he knows what he’s doing with the children.
“I was joking! I feed them three times a day and every time they ask for a snack.” He defends himself, and though the answer is nearly perfect, it just doesn’t reach that mark. Especially not with you.
“Caleb, if you let them snack too much–” You begin, and he holds back on sighing. He should’ve known better than to make a joke when you’re clearly upset. It’s not that you have no sense of humor, it’s that you forget about it when you want to pick a fight with him. Any other morning you would’ve agreed and burst into a fit of laughter.
“I know, baby.” He cuts you off, and you roll your eyes.
“Don’t call me baby.” You glare at him, and he fights back a smirk. There’s a hint of mischief in his eyes, and you try to ignore it.
Until he speaks.
“You didn’t seem to mind last night.”
“Caleb, I have a knife in my hand.” You hold up the knife, attempting to remind him to not test your limits. As if anything has stopped him before. What can that small knife even do to him? A small stab wound has never killed anybody.
“I can see.” He hums, and before an empty threat can leave your lips, his eyes light up at the sight of someone else. “Good morning, princess! What would you like for breakfast?”
Phoebe runs to his side before Caleb lifts her up and sits her down on his lap. He presses a kiss on the top of her head before asking her, “How’d you sleep, love?”
“Fine.” And the smile that was on Caleb’s face quickly disappears when he realizes that Phoebe hasn’t brushed her teeth yet– Silly Caleb, Phoebe can’t reach the sink by herself.
“Let’s brush our teeth!” Caleb stands up and carries her away, leaving you to finish your breakfast in peace.
Your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head as you take another bite. You sure want to strangle Caleb most of the time, but if you could have his cooking everyday, you would not hesitate for a second.
After spending some time with your kids, you part ways. It’s Caleb’s weekend with them, meaning that you’re not there to supervise them and do every task that you usually do together. You want to enjoy Skyhaven considering it’s rare when you find yourself in the area. You don’t have the liberty of traveling out of town and enjoying things on your own anymore, so you make sure to seize the opportunity whenever you can.
You used to love shopping in Skyhaven back when you were friends with Caleb but since your family grew, it’s been hard to stop by– Especially since Parker and Phoebe aren’t the biggest fans of stores or behaving in them. It’s nice not having to worry about Phoebe screaming and crying, and Parker whining about wanting to leave.
You’re stopping by every store that you used to go to and exploring the ones that are new. While you aren’t really getting anything for yourself, you like checking what the stores have to offer, just in case you need anything in the future. If you see anything you really like for your kids or for yourself, you’ll get it but it’s rare when you do.
Shopping isn’t a typically fun experience when you’re with your kids, so you expected to feel at ease when you started walking around the stores by yourself. Except you begin to feel nervous when you go from store to store. Call it animal instinct or something along those lines because you feel as if you’re being watched. You’re looking around, trying to spot anyone familiar in the crowd yet not spotting anyone. You begin to think you’re thinking about it too much because you’re used to being tense in stores. Having kids really changes your life, you think, until you hear a very familiar voice that validates all of your feelings.
“No, dad! I don’t want a Spiderman sweatshirt!” You turn around to find Caleb and the kids in the middle of the store. They attempt to hide before you catch them, and they have succeeded for hours until now. You make eye contact with Caleb, eyebrows furrowing as you see him. You want to believe it’s a mere coincidence, but with Caleb’s stunned reaction, it’s fair to say that he’s been keeping an eye on you.
“Caleb.” You try to remain calm as you walk over to him, something that’s easier said than done. You want nothing more than to drag him out by his ear and… The thoughts become too graphic for you to manage. It’s awful to think like that about the loving father of your two beloved children.
“Hey, baby! What a coincidence!” Caleb tries to smile, attempting to act innocent. As if he didn’t get caught. You would’ve bought it if he weren’t acting so abnormal.
“Parker, what are you doing here–” You turn your attention to your son, though Caleb attempts to redirect it to your daughter.
“Why don’t you ask our beautiful daughter–”
“You bribed her.” You can spot his tactics from a mile away, and before Caleb can defend himself, you speak again. “What are you three doing here, Parker?”
“Daddy said that we had to protect you since Skyhaven is dangerous.” Parker answers, making you glare at Caleb.
Phoebe goes running to your side, hugging your leg and muttering, “I hope you’re not mad.”
“Yeah, daddy says you don’t like to be protected.” Parker adds as Caleb scratches the back of his neck, eyes wandering around, attempting to find a way out. You’re biting your tongue, holding back on scarring your children with all the words you want to tell their father.
“Since he’s here, daddy, give me your credit cards.” You extend your hand, and Caleb’s eyes widen as he looks down at it.
“Cards?” He replies, making you nod in response.
“Just remembered I have to buy a couple of things.” You answer, and Caleb realizes he has no other option but to comply. He won’t admit that moving out and starting anew while also paying alimony and child support has taken a rather big toll on him financially– Not while you have a murderous look in your eyes at least. It’s different from the look from this morning. At least this morning he knew you wouldn’t actually kill him, but right now he’s unsure what his future holds.
“I’ll happily provide then.” An awkward laugh leaves his lips as he gives you his entire wallet. You usually wouldn’t spend too much, but to spite him, you might just spend every last penny. And he knows that you’re upset, but that doesn’t stop him from teasing you. It’s in his nature, even though he knows his life is at stake, he can’t stop himself. He points at the section that you’ve finally stopped going to in stores, and says, “Look, baby clothes! Should we look?”
“There isn’t a baby in the house.” Parker calls out. Though Phoebe will always be his baby sister, she won’t fit in the clothes that Caleb wants to look at.
“Wouldn’t another baby sister be nice, Parker?” Caleb asks, and he watches the child look at Phoebe. She’s digging into her nose without a care in the world, and that’s when Caleb realizes his mistake. He asked the wrong child.
“No.”
“Who are you having this child with?” You chime in, attempting to protect your inner peace. He’ll win if you get even more upset.
Caleb smirks as he bites his tongue.
“Thought we were on the same wavelength last night.” He mentions ever so subtly, and you sigh. You won’t see him again until next weekend. You just have to wait another day, and you’ll get your break. Though you know you’re partially at fault. Any of the boundaries you set were quickly forgotten by him the moment you kissed him back last night.
Tags: Fluff/ Birthday Fic/ Shy!Caleb/ Y/N is NOT mc!
A/N: Happy birthday to me! 🥳🥳🥳
“Y/N…Y/N…Wake up, Y/N.”
Y/N’s sleeping face scrunches up at the sound of her husband’s voice gently calling her name, pulling her out of her comfortable slumber.
“Mmm…Five more minutes.” Y/N grumbles sleepily, turning away from Caleb.
Caleb chuckles at his wife’s adorableness before mockingly sighing in a dramatic way, “I didn’t want to resort to this—” He says, “But you leave me no choice.”
Before Y/N could process what Caleb said, his long fingers are instantly on her, mercilessly tickling her.
“Ca…Ca–Caleb!!” Y/N is in a fit of giggles, desperately wiggling her body away from his fingers. When she jumps out of bed, Caleb grins in triumph.
Y/N glares at him but there isn’t any heat, she fights the urge to smile at her husband, wanting to show that she is very upset. But her resolve shatters within seconds. She’s giggling, prettily and without care. Caleb joins her.
“So,” Y/N breaks the silence moments later, “May I know why the hell you decided to wake me up at—” She glances at the clock on the wall across from their bed, “Eight in the morning on our very rare day off?”
Caleb fixes his face with solemnity but Y/N snorts because there are still glimmers of mischief in his galaxy like eyes.
“Close your eyes for me.”
Playing along, Y/N does as told.
Cool metal from Caleb’s prosthetic hand and the heat radiating from his other hand cover Y/N’s eyes.
“I won’t peek!”
She feels a rush of cool breath fanning the back of her neck before hearing Caleb’s chuckle, “Not risking it.”
Y/N rolls her eyes but lets Caleb take the lead in directing her out of their bedroom and into their kitchen space.
“Ready?” Caleb asks.
“Ready.”
Caleb slides his fingers away and quickly goes to stand next to the table, wanting to see her reaction.
“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”
Opening her eyes, Y/N is surprised to see the state of the kitchen.
There are baby pink and lavender colored balloons; some stuck to the ceiling while a few were littered across the floor. There’s a white banner stuck to the cabinets. Happy Birthday Y/N! is written in pink cursive. The exclamation point has a heart on the bottom instead of its typical dot.
On the table, is a set with fine china and silverware. One Y/N has been dreaming of buying but never actually owning them since she’s rarely home. In the center, there’s a basket filled with croissants stuffed with all sorts of jam, mini brioche, and mini vanilla muffins. On each plate there’s a warm cheese danish and a mug of steaming sweet coffee for Y/N and black coffee for Caleb.
“Oh, Caleb.” Y/N’s hand covers her mouth, “When did you do all of this?”
Caleb rubs the back of his neck. Despite being married for five years, he still blushes when Y/N looks at him with so much love in her eyes, love that he believes he doesn’t deserve despite her constantly reassuring him.
“I woke up early.” Caleb says nonchalantly, eyes looking everywhere but at her.
Y/N’s lips curl upwards in a smile.
Crossing the short steps to where Caleb is standing, she wraps her arms around his neck, trapping him in place. She stands on the tip of her toes to peck his lips once, twice, thrice before giving him a long, sweet kiss.
