˚‧｡Vivi｡‧˚

Of course, you think nothing of it when you accept his offer to meet up for a drink. It’s been a while, after all, and you have missions to take care of in Skyhaven anyway, so why not go see Caleb too? Sat in the rather soldier-filled bar, Caleb orders both of you a drink. It’s not a drink you necessarily like, and he orders it before you could even get a word in. But you accept it anyway. He’s always been this way, insisting on taking care of you to the point where it’s almost overbearing.

So he watches you take the cup designated as yours, and before you can even take a moment to question or doubt, he sighs. I should have chosen to take us somewhere else, he says. You’re still a young, inexperienced thing, after all. Probably can’t take much alcohol. Are hunters even allowed to drink? Nothing like us colonels and soldiers, hah…and gege doesn’t want you drinking!

And of course, you scoff, you fold your arms, you insist he’s wrong, just as he knew you would, just as he hoped you would.

Caleb smiles back at you. Oh yeah?

You grin back and say you’re on.

And so he keeps on passing you glass after glass after glass. Once you get a little bit tipsy, you no longer notice how he’s hiding the pill between his fingers and dropping them into your drink before he offers it to you.

You’re so determined it’s almost a bit comedic to him. It doesn’t matter how much alcohol you can take, or how little of it. Caleb will always beat you in this sense. He’s been in the army, in soldier training. He’s always been surrounded by these men who drink plenty and jive and use alcohol to relax. Now that he’s colonel, plenty of people make toasts to his name. He’s surrounded in this masculine, misogynistic-esque kind of drinking culture. You, on the other hand…

You finally drop a glass and slump over the bar counter.

You don’t twitch or mumble or anything, you’re straight out blacked out. You were mumbling a few words a few minutes ago, but now you’re draped all over the counter, eyes closed, your back rising and falling as you breathed. Caleb just sighs, pays the bill for your drinks and picks you up, slinging you over his broad shoulder and carrying you off to his car.

He’s a good guy, really, he cares about you, which is why he checks you over to make sure you’re not actually under any alcohol poisoning, but your skin is warm and dry, not clammy. Good. If you were, he might have to drive you to the hospital and possibly come to face that Dr. Zayne, instead of back home where it would be just you two. Alone.

He thinks about how grateful you should be. His friends and subordinates have teased him for the longest time because he won’t just go out with them to meet other girls at bars or even girls in general, because no, he’s whipped, they snicker, obsessed with this one little bitch that just won’t put out. His sister or something. Caleb corrects them. Found family. However he can’t correct them on how head over heels he is, and that irritates him even more.

He talks to you while he fucks you on his bed at his penthouse. You won’t remember a thing. A shame, since he’s at his most vulnerable now, admitting how desperate he is, has been, will be, in his lust-hazed rambles, how much it’s irritated him that you wouldn’t just be his and let him fuck you. Why not him? Why not the self-sacrificing boy who’s always been by your side? Why do you have to play hard to get? He goes about how soft your body is. How good pussy really does feel, holy shit, those guys were right, it’s so warm and grips his dick so nicely. Not that he’d limit himself to that, while he’s got you like this he might as well put his dick in your limp mouth, but admittedly he imagines that would feel a lot better if you were awake and actually sucking on it. He squeezes your jaw open. Your mouth moves just a bit, and in your blacked-out state your tongue runs over the intrusion. Caleb chokes back a moan in bliss.

It goes on for an hour or two. It was euphoric for Caleb. It was heaven, even, and so when he finally goes to sleep, he does so very very happily and confidently.

In the morning, you’ll wake up and starting cursing and snarling at him. You’ll probably cry a fair bit, even hit him over the face. But there will be nothing you can do. What’s done is done, and Caleb has taken what he rightfully thought was his. You’ll probably whine and say how bad of an experience it was (you didn’t feel a thing, other than utter mortification upon waking up clotheless next to him) and he’ll brush it off. It would feel a lot better if you were awake, pips.

I’m never doing that with you ever again, you say.

You try to fight back, but you know better than to otherwise. Caleb sits you back down, crossing his arms over his chest. He tells you what will happen very very plainly, as if he was explaining a schedule. You’re not going to mention this to anyone. You can’t, anyway, since theres no proof against him that he violated you. Maybe he just took you back to his home after you blacked out at the bar! It’s not like his soldiers that he planted at said bar is going to go against his words anyway. They’ll provide the evidence that he was being righteous and considerate, while you were just being reckless. Plus, can you face the sheer embarrassment to admit that something like this happened?

And a few weeks later, when your stomach drops at the horror of two, mocking, bright pink lines apparent on the positive pregnancy test…well, it’s not something you’ll deal with without him, right?

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