Caleb X Reader - Blog Posts

ugghhhhh this ate so fucking hard omg. idk i'm slowly beocming a caleb girlie someone lock me up and take my ipad away from me.

like he's tryna be so sweet and tender but it's tooth-rotting and you just gotta knock some sense into him😏

˙ ✩°˖ ✈️ mine / caleb x reader

synopsis; your beloved caleb is a deeply, deeply secretive (and dense) man, who somehow refuses to call you his. when you bring it up out of frustration, he ends up giving you more than what you asked for. but who would say no to that?

🍎 pomme's notes - the apple demons took over or something. i love my stupid self deprecating emo king

⋆ 2.1k words / angst-ish (kinda) into suggestive..? caleb is stupid / fem reader / 2nd person

you quickly realize that caleb never refers to you as his.

well, not quite. he'll say "my girlfriend", or "my partner" or maybe even "my pipsqueak". but that's the extent of it. he won't ever say "mine".

after you notice that, you decide to up the ante on your side. if he won't say it unprovoked, surely he'll say it to reciprocate you, right?

and so, you get started on your masterful plan.

leaving lipstick marks on his shirts and going "mine" when he sees them in his bathroom's mirror. tracing a finger down his chest and saying "all mine" with a flirty tone after he's done working out.

hell, you'll even up the PDA when you're out with him and tell a girl that's hitting on him off, simply by grabbing his face and going "mine".

but why the hell won't he call you his?

on the other hand, caleb is going insane from all of the times you called him yours.

the angels blessed him or something, he thinks. his beautiful, stunning, showstopping, gorgeous girlfriend calling him hers. if he wasn't happy about it, he'd be the stupidest man in existence. but thankfully, when it comes to loving you, caleb is the first in the class.

when you get jealous over girls hitting on him and you shoo them off, just by staring them down and calling him yours, he feels like he could melt into the ground and become a big puddle of pipsqueak lovin' caleb.

it makes him think that maybe, just maybe, he could call you his in return. but he quickly chased that thought out of his mind; his love wasn't as pure as yours. you called him yours innocently, with no real strings attached. you didn't entertain thoughts of keeping him away from everyone and everything. of making yourself his entire universe. not like he did.

and so, he refused to call you his, out of fear that he would imprison you in a cage he forged with his own hands. when life clipped his wings, he swore to himself that he'd do anything to make you keep yours forever. his evol would be used to make you float freely, never to chain you to the ground.

well, that was until you confronted him about it.

freshly out of the shower, you walked over to him when he was reviewing some files as he laid in your bed. he smiles when he sees you and sets down the files that previously occupied his attention.

"need me to dry your hair, pips?"

"why won't you call me yours, caleb?"

he chokes at how out of left field that question was and starts coughing. fuck, so you did notice, he thinks.

"am i.. am i not enough? i'll try harder, i promise, but i just. i don't know what i'm missing. it's like you love me, but there's always something missing, and i've been trying to figure it out, but i'm at my wits' end caleb. it's been driving me crazy and i tried so hard to get you to call me yours but it's ju-"

"baby, slow down. you're not missing anything, i can tell you that for sure."

you huff in frustration, dissatisfied with his answer. this is so unfair — you're wearing your damn heart on your sleeve, and yet caleb is not letting you see a sliver of his. you know he loves you, obviously, he's not the kind to fake it all.

but why can't he devote his love entirely to you? why's he so closed off? why does he draw boundaries for you, when all he could do was act on them? you were an adult, you could handle it.

sensing your frustration, he runs a hand through his hair and grabs your wrist, making you sit on the bed next to him. he inhales before explaining himself.

"look, i do love you. you know that, right? i love you more than anything on this damn earth. if you asked me to bring you the moon, i'd get the stars while i'm at it, just to make you happy."

"then why won't you ever call me yours? am i not worthy of being by your side?"

he shakes his head furiously, as if you've offended him by even asking this question.

"pips, you just don't understan-"

"help me understand, caleb! stop shutting me out! i'm capable of hearing it, and i want this — i want us to work! i call you mine, my boyfriend, my love, my best friend, for god's sake, caleb, you're my everything! and i'm just pipsqueak to you? is this some sick joke?"

caleb freezes. what if he comes clean, and you see him in a different light? what if you decide to shut him out, because he's too much? he wouldn't be able to handle it, especially not after he experienced domestic bliss with you.

what is he supposed to say now? bring back how he wishes that he could keep you away from the life you knew, especially when you fought with him to express how you loved living in this world intent on hurting you? how, despite every hurdle life threw at you, you loved living and giving back to those around you? he couldn't do that. not at the risk of driving you away again.

and so he resorts to giving you vague expressions and feelings, in hopes that you'll be satisfied with his usual mystical answers.

"no, no it's not baby. please. i just don't think i can let you know everything yet — you're just so earnest with how you love and my love's nowhere near as kind or pure as yours."

now it's your turn to stare in disbelief. you scoff, taken aback by whatever bullshit your boyfriend just spouted. your love is too pure? what the hell does he think you are, mother theresa? he might just be dumber than what you expected. you inhale sharply, getting ready to unload all the frustration you've been keeping at bay on him. you've loved the guy for your entire life, and somehow, he still thinks that the extent of your love is a PG13 romance movie: cuddling together, and maybe, just maybe, some kissing here and there.

him not taking you seriously and underestimating your love for him somehow angers you more than if you were actually missing something he wanted in a relationship.

"too pure? for fuck's sake caleb, i have needs too! we're not in middle school anymore, are we? i want to have sex with you! i want us to take the next damn step in this relationship! do you not want me like that?"

when he tries to defend himself, you shut him down immediately.

"no, let me finish! i get jealous when you get hit on by other girls! sometimes, i wish i could make it so that i'm the only person you know and talk to, i wish that i could keep you away from others!"

you breathe hard. there are so many thoughts spinning in your head and you just see his purple eyes staring deep at you, as if he's trying to scan how you feel — and that makes you even angrier.

how is it that he didn't take your words at face value right now? why's he trying to read into "the deeper meaning of them" by looking into your eyes, as if they were being more honest than you were being?

caleb, who was the smartest in his class at the DAA, the boy who tutored you through the harder math problems in high school, seemed so damn dense right now.

his mouth opened and closed, as if trying to figure out what to even respond with, but you didn't allow him to do that just yet.

"i love how you're always sweet. i love how you care about me more than you care about yourself. you're so perfect. but i'm so sick of pretending like we're 6th graders in love. do you even know how long i've loved you for? you've been the only one on my mind since we knew each other, caleb. god, even when i thought about dating a guy, i'd always end up looking at those who looked like you. i looked for you in every guy i thought about hitting up."

his jaw tensed at the information. you looked for him in other guys? when this whole time, he was right there, building up the courage to ask you to be more than whatever you were at the time?

he felt like his brain was going to overheat from just how many facts were thrown at him. you wanted to keep him away from the world? fuck, you wanted to have sex with him? he'd dreamt of it, of course he had. when he was back at the DAA and the guys would share their stupid porn recommendations, and he'd never be able to watch anything unless the actress looked a bit like you. even then, he'd felt so guilty.

and you wanted him like that?

and then here you were, sat in front of him. letting all of your frustrations and concerns and feelings out in the open. and caleb felt so guilty — so stupid, really. you were trying so hard to get through to him, dropping hints left and right, and he couldn't even reciprocate that.

so he decided that for once, he'd let go. he'd indulge himself in you, allow himself to take a bite of the apple he forbade himself from ever touching. if you were a trial sent to him by a higher being, then man, was he failing, but if the cost of failure was a taste of you, then he would happily take the loss. again and again and again and again.

you were eurydice and he was orpheus. always looking back, always falling deeper into hell's embrace if it meant one more moment with you.

and if caleb denied himself this — then he'd both be a heartless, cruel man, and an idiot. and he wasn't going to be either of those, not anymore.

so, he did what he does best.

he acted upon it.

"i just feel like i'm not being heard ou- mmph!"

you were on the verge of tears, salty drops lining your lash line when you felt his lips on yours. caleb pounced on you, pinning you down.

devoted, passionate, and a secret third thing.

desperate? who knows. who cares, really. not when he's got you sprawled out under him, reciprocating his kiss. for once, he kissed you like he was hungry for more. like you were his lifeline — not like the soft kisses you were used to.

he groans into your mouth, feeling you grow hotter as you grasp at anything you could hold onto. the sheets, his arms, his neck — and when you settle on clawing at his back during this tempest of a kiss, he thinks he sees the gates of heaven.

breathless, he pulls back and looks at you with a look that could only be defined as hungry.

"i don't love you enough? i'd destroy this damn world in a heartbeat if you asked me to. i'd keep you away from anything that could be dangerous, i'd make you rely on me only — always."

he dives back in, sucking harshly on the side of your neck. littering bites and hickeys on there, caleb could devour you whole. you can't help the sounds that escape you, not when you hear him mutter "mine, all mine. my only one, mine, mine, mine" like a prayer in between kisses.

you gasp, dragging your nails down his back in an attempt to ground yourself as he moves down to your collarbone area. caleb takes a second to breathe, and you hear him speak lowly.

"you are, so, so silly. me, not want you enough? if i were to reveal what i wanted to do to you, you'd be crawling away from this room at all costs. do you know just how much i've held back?"

he kisses your lips again, softer this time, but just as passionate. you're out of breath, mind hazy at the sudden show of possessiveness. caleb is finally, finally fulfilling your wish. who care about work tomorrow and having to hide hickeys? you've only got one thing on your mind, and it's the man latching onto the soft skin of your neck again. he all but growls this time.

"mine. all mine, mine and mine only. is that what you wanted to hear? i'll show you, yeah? neither of us is leaving this room until i make you understand that i want you just as much as you want me — hell, if i don't want you even more, pretty girl."

you nod frantically, feeling like you're on cloud 9.

turns out you were his all along.

he just needed a strongly worded pep talk to understand that.

🍎 pomme's final notes - can i be honest this is so self-indulgent. i want to reach into the screen and beat him up because of how stupid he sounds sometimes like i get it but also you're so sexy and how can you be so dumb like omfg get a GRIP!! STAND UPPPPPPP im pulling my hair out

also maybe one day i'll write smut. i feel like i go insane thinking about caleb and then i cant write for him beyond suggestive stuff so instead i just rock back and forth like a crazy person

For my MC Twin AU - CALEB'S Spitfire [18+] (I SWEAR IM WORKING ON IT I JUST DON'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE SMUT WELL I'M SORRY 😞), I have hit a dilemma

MC Twin AU - CALEB'S Spitfire [2]

Caleb was weird.

Not weird as in 'I wanna lock you away from the world.' you actually found that very normal and very, very hot. What the said about you meant nothing, there was a reason you picked him out of all the other options.

No, Caleb was acting weird because he was focusing on you. He had apparently asked for your number from MC, which she had gladly given him, and you had woken up to the sight of an unknown number sending you a good morning text.

"Rise and shine spitfire! You gotta get to work soon 🫵"

You had blinked, then pinched your cheek just to make sure you weren't hallucinating. Seeing that it hurt a lot, you were clearly awake.

"Um, Caleb?"

"😉 One and only"

"Well technically there are many other Caleb's in the world ya know"

" :( well the only Caleb who's food you enjoy a lot"

". . . . damm"

"lol why did you do the ...?"

"dramatic effect. anywho how did you get my number?"

"MC gave me. Now! I'll talk to you later 🫵Get ready for work!"

Caleb was weird because on a sunny Friday afternoon, right after your dentist appointment, you found him leaning against your car scrolling on his phone. You had paused, stared at him, then let out a long sigh. It was best to not dwell on how he knew where you were. Normally you would have said MC told him, but you hadn't told her that your appointment was today.

So yeah. Caleb was weird.

As you approached him, he finally looked up and gave you a wide smile that made your heart flutter. "Hey there spitfire!" He greeted, placing his phone in his pocket and straightening up.

You raise a brow and cross your arms over your chest. "Are you here to steal my car?"

"Precisely." He bobbed your nose making you let out a squawk of bafflement. "MC needs to be picked up and I unfortunately have my car in the shop, soo I was wondering if I could use yours?"

You tap your foot on the pavement. "And how did you know where I was?"

Caleb blinks and brings out his phone, turning it around to show you the screen. "You posted it on your Moments."

. . . . Ah. You did. A long sigh leaves your lips and you turn to walk to the driver's seat. "Get in. And in return, you're getting me mochi."

"Roger that!"

Caleb was weird, because he invited you out once to play Kitty Cards together. No MC, no other friends, just you and him.

You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of your cards, and he smiles innocently at you. "You knowww, I can give you some of my cards-"

"I'll bite you!"

"Ohhh kink-"

"Caleb!"

He laughs, purple eyes sparkling with mirth, and your heart flutters, making you duck your head to hide your blush. No, no you couldn't feel anything for him. This was wrong!

You weren't MC. You weren't the girl that helped him in the labs, and you weren't the girl he dedicated his entire existence for.

You were simply. . . . You.

Caleb was weird, because even when you started to try and distance yourself from him, he kept bothering you. Even when you ignored his calls, ran away with an excuse whenever he was with MC, pretended he didn't exist and hid when you saw him in the wild, he still didn't let you go.

Everywhere you went, he knew.

At MC? He knew.

At work? He knew.

Watching movies at home? He sent you reminders to go to bed early.

At work? Somehow food delivery is being sent to your office.

Caleb was weird.

"I'm not her you know." You tell him after months of ignoring him, months of him chasing you, lurking behind you like a shadow. "We might look identical, but I'm not, and will never be her."

Why couldn't he get it through his thick skull! You weren't MC, you were You!

Caleb was weird, because he simply smiled and dragged you into a hug, placing his chin on the top of your head. "Of course you're not MC." He said with ease. "You're my little spitfire, and I couldn't have it any other way."

Your face grew beet red, and your heart pounded loudly in your ears. Caleb was so fucking weird, because he called you his.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Caleb | 18+

the spider’s sense! a spidercaleb series.

♥︎ spider-man!caleb 𝑥 fem!reader

synopsis. ┆ caleb’s life was perfect—until it wasn’t. a radioactive spider bite turned him into linkon’s friendly neighborhood spider-man, the daily bugle started hunting for the man behind the mask, and to top it all off, he was forced to partner up with you—his smart, competitive, and infuriatingly perfect classmate who threatened his spot as number one in the class rankings.

tags/warnings. ┆ college/modern au, academic rivals to lovers, fluff, angst, eventual smut, gran isn’t evil in this LOL, the canon event, college parties, alcohol consumption, cliches, depictions of serious crime, references to the spider-man comics and movies, mdni

a/n. ┆ fanart art is by 长白山小葱头 on weibo. this is my first series on this app to celebrate hitting 1K! if you want to join the taglist, comment on this post or send me an ask.

main masterlist. ┆ talk to me!

chapter one ┆ pest control. (coming very soon)

caleb's worst fear comes true when the two of you are assigned as lab partners, especially after your first experiment together goes horribly wrong in more ways than one. (4.2k)

This was very rushed

Caleb x Reader Drabble 🔞

-Caleb comes home after a long day at work and finds you sleeping peacefully but you look so pretty..

Warnings: SOMNOPHILIA, P IN V, CNC

Do not read if you are not comfortable with these themes!

Thinking about…! how your personal space is never really yours when Caleb’s around ♡

He’s always got to be in close proximity to you. An arm around your shoulder, another around your waist… It's like he’s made of gummy candy, and all he wants is to be stuck with you. 

He says he needs to leech off your body heat sometimes, but you both know why he does it. He’s clingy. 

HATES being separated from you when you’re right there. What do you mean why is he so close to you, is there a problem? Don’t you want the same? (How could you say no?)

His personal bubble is yours, and vice versa. Caleb can’t stand the thought of you without him draped all over your body. He’d trap you in his arms forever if he could </3

At night, he can’t rest easy until he has you within his reach. Would love to end the day with you in his lap. He’d play with your hair if you asked, give you a massage if you wanted… anything’s fine, as long as he can touch you.

When it’s time to sleep, he manhandles you around in bed. Hiking one of your legs over his hip, he slots his thigh in between yours, pressing your bodies as close as he can. It’s not even a sexual thing for him sometimes, the physical intimacy of it all just makes him so relaxed.

He’s never been more content <3

knight!caleb x princess!reader headcannons

reversing the roles from the xavier fic but writing about caleb releases a different kind of feral from me (why are the vibes so different between these two works lol!)

warnings: feral behavior, abusive themes, possessive tendencies, graphic mention of violence/death, a bit of religious blasphemy, is he really a yandere in this tho? (answer is yes), 18+ only

caleb, who despite being a small child himself is forced to do the most menial, laborious tasks in the kitchens of the palace, escaping for a breather with stolen food in his clothes and encountering you in gardens for the first time. even though you're weeping into the sleeve of your gown, snot soaking the fabric, you still look like a precious doll. he immediately is captivated. he can't bring himself to say anything though, not when he's covered in dirt, and so he watches you from afar. when you leave the gardens, you find a shiny polished apple placed on a ripped piece of fabric. caleb, hidden in the bushes, sees the bright smile that washes over your tear-stricken face.

caleb gets beaten, though, when the cook finds the tear in his clothes and the ingredients missing in the kitchen. but when he thinks about you taking the bite of the apple and wiping away your tears, he grits his teeth together and endures.

caleb, who's spent his entire childhood yearning after you ever since and working hard at knight training to rise in the ranks. even though he knows he can't marry you, at least he can protect you. years later, when your kingdom is at war, you come out and give a speech to rally up the troops. you're more beautiful than he remembered. but when your sleeves droop down and he spots a bruise on your skin, his vision almost goes red. it's then that he vows to himself that he'll protect the kingdom first and then destroy it with his own hands.

caleb who gets promoted with a nobility title after his contributions in the war. he loses his right arm in that battle, and a wooden limb replaces it. even though the other nobles jeer at him and curse him under their breath at the homecoming banquet, he doesn't pay them any attention. he's paying attention to only you. the king shows you off like you're his most prized possession. you don't look happy, even though you're pretending to smile. caleb knows that. caleb knows you.

caleb who hears about the king planning on selling you off to the highest bidder for your marriage (it's a king about his own age whose three previous wives have already died). he knows that the people are growing discontent with the king, with the nobility. he joins the rebellion then. it's treason, and he'll be branded as a sinner and killed if he's caught. but he's never been a rational man, not when it comes to you.

when he beheads the king with his own sword, you're cowering in front of him, begging him not to kill you as he comes closer. how could you ever think he would kill you? he lo-

caleb who doesn't know quite sure what love really means. he didn't grow up in a world where fairy tales of love had ever existed--at least not the innocent good ones. but the bad ones, where the evil are grotesquely punished and the good are rewarded with their deaths, that he knows of. and if this is your fairy tale's happy ending, he's satisfied that he's been able to give it to you.

he can't bring himself to touch you with his right arm. not when the pain in it serves as a reminder of how low he is and how precious you are. not when it's covered in that bastard king's blood. but what he can do is this. he brings himself down to his knees in front of you, reverent, seeking only one answer from you. when he hears it, he knows his prayers will have been answered by the god that he's sworn to himself he has never once believed in. but maybe that god is you and has always been you.

"will you let me protect you? will you let me wed you?" he whispers. he reaches out his left hand (it's clean, not bloody), hoping you'll take it.

when you take his hand, he understands from it that you have accepted.

and it doesn't matter that it might be fear that pushes you to answer 'yes', that you might believe that you are leaving from the confinement of one wicked man to another, either way, he'll protect you. he'll keep you safe from every evil that seeks to harm you.

in him, you will find a haven away from the wicked. in him, you will find paradise.

Caleb // focus

Pairing: Caleb x fem!reader ☆ Fluff, suggestive themes at the end! ☆ ~700 words

Based off this interaction:

“Stop moving.”

“You’re pulling too tight.”

Caleb sighs, running his fingers over the spot where he had tugged. His touch is lighter than it was before, but he still clicks his tongue as you shift in your seat. You can’t help it—the afternoon heat makes you feel gross!

“You’re ruining these braids.” He mumbles. “Told you to stay still, pipsqueak. Don't follow orders well, do you?”

You reach a hand around your back to hit him on the thigh, scowling, “Watch it, colonel. I should be the one complaining, you’re disturbing me.”

From behind you, Caleb chuckles. He’s close enough that his breath fans the back of your neck, deft fingers resuming their motions of plaiting your hair. The room fills with a comfortable silence, accompanied by the quiet taps of your keyboard, and Caleb’s soft musing.

“...What if I go bald because you’re pulling on my hair too tight?”

Though you can’t see him, you can imagine Caleb rolling his eyes, annoyed frown on his face and all. The image makes you bite back a grin.

“Wouldn’t have to wrestle with it if you’d stop moving, pipsqueak.”

“Remind me why you’re suddenly giving me a new hairstyle again?”

His easy laughter rumbles through his chest, warmth radiating against your back. “I told you… I’d braid your hair if you didn’t focus.”

“I’d focus better if you weren’t so distracting.”

“Oh really?” He hums, voice teasing. In one move, Caleb spins your chair around to face him. He tilts his head to the side, peering at you through his lashes. “What part of me is such a distraction, huh?”

Mischief sparks in your heart as you grab his chin, pretending to examine his face. He lets you, pulling your chair closer to his, settling you between his legs.

“This lethal face card, duh. What would you do without it?”

“You like my face?” His smile grows wider, cheeks flushing. “Tell me more.”

“Fishing for compliments?”

“Only from you.”

His response is so quick it makes you giggle.

Caleb reaches out a hand to pat your head, careful not to disturb the braids-in-progress. Softly, he urges, “Go back to work, honey. Let me continue mine.”

You don’t get to argue before he’s spinning your chair back around, making you face the papers strewn about your table, and the endless documents on your laptop. You pout.

As if sensing your displeasure, he leans over slightly to press a kiss to your temple. “Sit tight, pipsqueak. I’m almost done.”

It’s early evening when you’re finally done with everything. Euphoria fills your veins as you shut your laptop and shove the papers to the side, arching your back for a good stretch.

Caleb’s still seated behind you, arms coming to wrap around your waist. He rests his head on your shoulder.

“Finished? Perfect timing,” He says, “I’ve been wanting to show you these for ages.”

“Aww, you waited for me?”

He looks at you, deadpan, and you grin at him sheepishly. Of course he would.

“C’mon, lemme see.”

At your request, Caleb drapes the braids over your shoulders, passing you a hand mirror at the same time. You gasp at the sight—while you were focused on work, he had put a lot of effort into decorating your hair. Familiar clips and ties adorn your new hairstyle; you recognise them as ones he had chosen for you on your last shopping trip together.

You see Caleb watching you in the reflection, eyes bright and curious. The smile on your face matches the one on his.

“I did a good job, didn’t I?” He asks. Pride’s laced in his words.

Laughter bubbles out of you—he’s right. Despite your moving around, Caleb really did a good job. Seeing how much care and attention he put into this makes your tummy flip.

“Is this really how you spent your day off, colonel?” You tease, “Braiding my hair?”

“Well… the day isn't over yet.” Caleb hums, pursing his lips. He reaches to take the mirror from you, placing it face down on the table. “I can think of other ways we could spend our time together.”

The sudden change in tension has you speechless—you barely suppress a shiver as his fingertips trail across your skin, featherlight and teasing. One hand slides lower, slipping under your shirt, caressing the flesh there. For a second, your mind blanks, breaths turning shallow, before Caleb nips at the back of your neck. The warmth of his lips snaps you out of the fog clouding your mind.

“Okay,” You whisper, twisting around to crawl into his lap. He startles a little at the shift in positions, but his surprised expression quickly morphs into something heated. Narrowed eyes, flushed cheeks… you lean down to bite at his bottom lip, and he lets out a low whine.

“But you have to stay still and focus on me, yeah?”

So, warning

spoilers

For love and deepspace

But I am so glad that Caleb is alive and all, but is it too much to ask for a poly rafayel x reader x Caleb? Please, my poly heart wants both of them

Saw this on pinterest. Immediately thought of how he'd be nervous to show you lol (it derailed!) (Weird step sibling stuff)

Winter always came with surprises for you. He came back from DAA for Christmas. He hid his gifts in some corner of the garage because he always liked playing Santa with you, never got old. He acted clueless when he was asked about what presents he bought this year. And right now, you were interrogating him while he was innocently unpacking his stuff in his old room. With a beanie on his head. And he was acting weird.

"Gifts? Didn't have the time or money for those, sorry to disappoint you." He gave you a wide-eyed look. He almost made you believe that last year, when he got into the academy.

"Shut up, you always bring gifts when you come over! I'm not believing that again." You fell for that last year when he enrolled into the academy. You won't fall for it the second time.

"Well, this time's different. And your gege is so tired, pipsqueak, let him rest for a bit." He rubbed his face dramatically, yawning.

"You just sounded like an old man right now, and what's with the beanie? You're inside. Take it off."

Oh boy, you sure were bossy. He chuckled and he uncharacteristically avoided your gaze. Your Caleb was...nervous?

(He was undeniably cute when he was flustered, your traitorous mind thought)

"...Caleb?"

He scratched the back of his neck, smiling tightly.

"Caleb."

"Hm?"

"Take it off."

He stubbornly didn't respond. He got that from you, just as you got things from him, growing up together and all. You didn't bother wrestling that beanie off his stupid head because you knew he wouldn't budge. So you did what came naturally.

"Caleb, please? Pretty please?" You pouted at him and he groaned.

"I really wanna see you with it off, is it so bad? I won't laugh, I promise!"

"Very reassuring."

"Come onnn!" You strutted to where he was sat on the edge of the bed, pressing your hands on his broad shoulders and they instinctively relaxed. "I don't get it. Why would you hide it from me?"

What a minx you were. You knew his weakness and now you were using it against him deliberately, your puppy eyes.

He let out a defeated sigh and took his beanie off... Revealing his bleached hair. Your reaction?

"Uhm," he shoved his face in his hands. "No, no, I mean, like, it's alright.-"

"I lost a bet." His voice was muffled as he confessed, like it was some crime. "Sorry, pipsqueak." You had to stiffle in a giggle.

He was all red, even his ears turned warm. He was so dramatic about it, it's not like he looked bad. This guy managed to make almost everything look good.

His face raised from his palms after a moment, looking up at his mean meimei with uncertainty in his eyes.

"It can't be that bad, right?" He smiled up at you, reigning himself back in.

That made you want to hug Caleb. Bad. So you did, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him in gingerly and cushioning his head to your chest.

Unintentionally, maybe. Maybe not.

It felt so powerful to have him, your dear older brother who always was so well put, so unreachable, come to your arms like putty. But he was so unpredictable. Maybe he played this whole thing so he could hug you like he did now. His legs set wide apart and his arms wrapped around your midriff. His whole posture sagged like the weight of the whole world dropped off him.

You've been so skittish to hugs recently...As you've seemingly grown up now. But it felt so right. You rested your cheek on top of his hair. You liked this so much.

"You look like a chick with this hair. It's...It's cute." You mumbled out, trying to keep it light.

This hug was anything but about his blonde tuff on his head.

His warmth was enveloping you whole and his strong arms were making you melt...Your gege came back much stronger from the academy. Bigger.

He let out a deep sigh, breathing you in and exhaling. That heartbeat of yours, it always lulled him to comfort, he couldn't help himself. Yet he pulled back, drawing away his arms from you and putting on that smile of his, that easy brotherly smile.

It wasn't fair for you, he knew, leaving your poor little heart to flutter like that. Though he did, it was better this way.

"You, uh, really wanted to cosplay Santa this year, then." You pulled away.

"Yea. That's... A nice way of looking at it." His eyes were a rueful violet that you always wanted to understand.

"Yea."

...

"What about that bet?"

"Nosey. How about you help me unpack? I'll tell you while we do it."

We all know Caleb is a compulsive liar right

He obviously lied about what was going on with him, EVER and all. The whole turning people into wanderers which he surely didn't act upon. Mf doesn't even RESPOND when you asked him about his work.

Oh but those lies were piled up like a garbage pit in the back of his head. He did lie before, lots too. About his night terrors, the guys he so kindly battered when they got too close to you, his worried mind. Him fooling around in college.

But as he would lie about where the snacks are hidden in his apartment just to watch you search for them like the raccoon you were (you were adorable in those moments to him), he'd never lie about his affections, never.

He loved you, so much.

But through the thick veil of restraint.

You always felt loved, even in Old Days, when he went off to academy and wasn't around as much. He always sent money, packets filled with snacks, he made sure to facetime you weekly to see how you were taking care of yourself. You promised to keep everything neat, right?

He wrote those letters for you before he went on a mission like he'd write in a journal. That time he got absorbed into the tunnel and came out of that gory ship still breathing, his letter before that was that he was scared, and that he loved you, and that he hoped to return to you. He hoped you'd answer his prayers.

You were his faith.

Oh, he'd never hide that.

EVER could strip him of everything but his love for you. So, out of love, he lies.

ヽ(⌒´メ)ノ

Thinking about pre kaboom!Caleb being upset with you. Pt.1

(´ﾍ｀；)

Maybe you emptied the whole apple jam jar, or you devoured his protein bars. Maybe you left a bunch of dishes in the sink as a welcome home gift for the nth time or you left the goddamn toilet seat up again. He wouldn't outwardly scold you because he was supposed to be the mature and cool one. So he'd let you off with a pinch to the nose and some verbal shaming.

"Look at this big, adult missy who can't clean up after herself~ You're totally hopeless without me- This place will become a man nest when I leave for college."

He ruffled your hair in amusement as he saw you get all red with embarrassment. You'd certainly be a little neater after this blow to the ego. But he will certainly brush this off every time, he'd do any chore for you.

Though that time when you walked past him in the school's corridor, giggling with your new friends, it wasn't as cute. Not by far. At first he thought you didn't see him out of disbelief that his best girl didn't notice him raising his hand towards you as he interrupted whatever conversation he was having with his buddies by the lockers. Something about a party- or a new stupid joke roaming around. But he was pretty tall and built, he certainly stood out enough for you to see him!

"Heyyy, hellooo! Pipsqueak! I'm here!" He called out after you, his boys began chuckling, and you waved him off. Your new friends were certainly giving him more attention than you did, their eyes flickering with surprise between you and him.

What the hell was going on? His eyebrows furrowed as he barely took in your sheer audacity.

He wasn't a 'where my hug at?' type of guy againts all odds but now, with his usually maintained nerves frayed, he pushed through the sea of students in that crowded hall and ate up the distance quickly. His right forearm wrapped around your shoulders with he kept his other arm down with a clenched fist.

You got startled, obviously, the back of your head pressing against his chest. You tilted your head up, and you were met by his deadpan above you.

"Respond to me when I'm callin' out to you." He said in a not so cheerful tone.

"Caleb- Uh, sorry, but- I really gotta go to class with my friends-"

"Break just began."

"I, uh, have go to the vending machine- I'm hungy! I wanna get something-"

"I packed a sandwich for you. This morning." He raised an eyebrow at you. Daring you to continue.

"Caleb." You gave him a look that made him back away.

"Sure." Then he smiled, that easy smile that covered up his frayed nerves to those who didn't know. Though you could obviously see the way it twitched at the corners of his mouth "See you back home, pips."

And he left too hastily, embarrassment burning him.

He left, offended, disrespected (and hurt). You got new friends, huh?

Imagine catching caleb with his dick in his hand lmaooooo

"Looks real good on you, princess," He smiled (tightly) "Guess I have an eye for dresses, huh."

Now, apple boy caleb who was still at granny's house was real pent up after you acted all cute and pretty in that cute summer dress for dinner, the one who hugs your curves perfectly, the one he helped you pick when you two went thrifting last week. He battled with a big boner until you went to the garden to help out gran water her flowers. He jolted to his room, closed the blinds and went at it with vengeance. How dare he get hard at his cute little pipsqueak? You deserve so much more than a pervert like him... oh, but you looked so damn pretty...Teenage hormones weren't helping him.

He was sitting at the edge of his bed, his tank top pulled up with his teeth and his sweats and boxers hastily pulled down his powerful thighs. His hand was fisting roughly at his weepy shaft, feet curled up on the rug beneath them and his handsome face scrunched up so cutely in frustration.

Thinking about you.

In all sorts of scenarios.

You did things to him and you weren't even noticing. No girl at school, the girls you were so cutely jealous of, could get him this worked up.

He whined your name, muffled by the fabric in his mouth. A few minutes passed and he was red all over.

God fucking damn it, it wasn't going down!!!

Then he heard it, a gasp. He broke out of his haze, only to come back to reality that YOU were wide eyed by his slightly opened door. Your pretty eyes were on him...

Caleb let out a small groan as he came, his fist squeezing his shaft roughly, his back hunching over-

The next second the door was slammed shut with his evol, his mind in a jumble.

Shit...Damn. he forgot to lock the door. He thought you wouldn't come back- oh, he couldn't even see you coming back because he closed his blinds! And he came when he caught you watching!

...

He didn't boil in shame the normal amount any normal person would, (that made him stand out, future colonel and all). Because next day he'd be making you breakfast. Like nothing ever happened. And he made you feel like the only one awkward in here, like you didn't catch him jerking off last night.

And if you would try to bring it up (right in front of your chamomile tea and your apple jam sandwich) , he's brush it off.

"Look, sorry, pips, you caught me in a moment," He chuckled in his boyish way. The laugh that got him out of most shit. He scratched the back of his neck, in that charming, unguarding way of his "Let's not make it weird between us with this, please? Besides, you're not the only one who walked in on-"

"Don't, Caleb."

This little shit brought up the time he walked in on you, too. So, you were even, he guessed as the usual banter between the two of you settled again.

ABOUT MYSELF

•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• •┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• •┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈•

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

My name is Nessie!! I am a 21+ afab bisexual female <3. Welcome to my corner of the internet! Coffee addict, book lover, and gacha game enthusiast! Cat Lover!!!!! Engineering Major, even though I enjoy literature much more. I will write anything under the sun!!!! (As long as it's reasonable of course :3)

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Requests are OPEN!!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The fandoms I will/might write for:

Hoyoverse games (HSR, Genshin, ZZZ)

Wuthering Waves

DC (Mostly BatFam and Teen Titans)

Love and Deepspace

May add more stuff as I discover my interests!!

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Rules for my lil' elves!!!

I write fluff, smut, angst, hurt/comfort. Most of my fanfics will be x fem!reader or gn!reader, but I also write for fandom ships ✮⋆˙

All the characters I write for are 18+ and above ✮⋆˙

May write yandere upon request, but I am not into it that very much ✮⋆˙

MINORS DNI, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU CONSUME ON THE INTERNET ✮⋆˙

Please be respectful of everybody in the community ✮⋆˙

All Rights Reserved ©. These works are mine and mine alone.

PS: This blog may also feature reblogs from other creators—all rights belong to their respective owners ✮⋆˙

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ───────

Well that's all for now!! I will start posting from tomorrow onwards and gradually take in requests ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )و✧*｡

I will be looking forward to see what everyone comes up with in the requests box!! ฅ/ᐠ˶> ﻌ<˶ᐟ\ฅ

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

chapter one ── pest control. the spider’s sense: a spidercaleb series.

♥︎ spider-man!caleb 𝑥 fem!reader

synopsis. ┆ caleb’s life was perfect—until it wasn’t. a radioactive spider bite turned him into linkon’s friendly neighborhood spider-man, the daily bugle started hunting for the man behind the mask, and to top it all off, he was forced to partner up with you—his smart, competitive, and infuriatingly perfect classmate who threatened his spot as number one in the class rankings.

warnings. ┆ college/modern au, academic rivals to lovers, fluff, angst, eventual smut, gran isn’t evil in this LOL, the canon event, college parties, alcohol consumption, cliches, depictions of serious crime, references to the spider-man comics and movies

chapter summary. ┆ caleb's worst fear comes true when the two of you are assigned as lab partners, especially after your first experiment together goes horribly wrong in more ways than one.

series masterlist. ┆ next: soon!

Most days in Linkon City begin with sirens.

Loud, blaring, unmistakable screeches that cut through the early morning quiet like a blade, carving their way through alleyways and avenues alike. They seep into walls, curl beneath locked doors, and coil around the restless minds of those who have long since stopped flinching at their call.

To them, the inhabitants of this city, it is nothing more than background noise—a city’s heartbeat, rhythmic and ceaseless. But to you, it is a warning. A sign that the world beyond the window of your dorm room is a battlefield, and you, a stranger in its midst, are only beginning to understand the rules of this strange place.

Perhaps, in time, you will grow desensitized as they have. Learn to sleep through the wailing cries, to walk these streets without the ever-present weight of caution pressing against your ribs. In a way, they forbade you from venturing out, instilling a fear within you that if you did, you would be the individual these melodies chased—or worse, the victim they had been called for in the first place. 

The entirety of the first semester has passed, and you haven’t even finished unpacking. Your suitcase remains half-full, a tangible reminder that you do not yet belong here. That you still have a choice—to do something before this place sinks its teeth into you, before you become just another soul who mistakes chaos for comfort.

But that choice is an illusion.

Here, people like you make no difference. You are not a hero, nor anything close to it. You are just a student who knows better, one who recognizes that the sirens will always be there, a requiem for the city’s unrest. And the crime will persist, as will the men in uniform who fail to stop it.

Somewhere beyond the blaring wails, beyond the tangled skyline and shadowed alleys, someone is fighting a battle you will never quite understand.

And for now, all you can do is listen.

Yet, in a way, you know that this was exactly where you wanted to be.

Despite its rapidly deteriorating surroundings, Linkon University remained a place of prestige. Young children dreamed of acceptance into its ranks, babbling to their parents about how they, too, would one day make these halls their stomping grounds. Maybe it was naivety that brought you here. Or maybe it was the last remnants of a dream that hadn’t yet died on your tongue.

Or perhaps, it was the medical journalism program—a rare gem, dwindling into obscurity at every other university.

You were lucky to be accepted. But humbly speaking, luck had very little to do with it. Your stats spoke for themselves: a 1540 SAT, a 4.98 weighted GPA, more extracurriculars than you could count on both hands. A smart cookie, as written in the shining letters of recommendation that paved your way here.

And yet, imposter syndrome festered like a quiet disease, creeping into the spaces between your confidence. You have spent your entire life at the top. Always number one.

Here? You were number two.

Number two to whom? You did not know. Not yet, anyway.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Caleb’s perfect life has unraveled in the span of a week and a half, but he positively swears it’s not his fault.

It’s yours.

Ten days ago, at precisely 12:57 PM, he endured the worst torment known to man: his seat in the lecture hall was stolen. A cruel move, truly. Class had been in session for four days, he’d claimed that seat twice—twice—and by the unspoken law of university students everywhere, that granted him full ownership. So why, then, were you sitting in his allotted property?

Looking back, Caleb sees only two possible explanations. The first: you had unknowingly taken the seat after enrolling just before the census date. The second: you were out to get him from the very start.

And personally? He’s convinced it’s the latter.

But alas, he hadn’t made a fuss about it then. It wasn’t like he’d just lost the single best seat in the entire hall—the one with perfect access to the exit, the projector, and the professor’s desk. But hey, he could be cool about this, right? Yeah… totally cool. So cool. The coolest.

Days passed, and everyone seemed to be settling into the spring semester just fine. The weather was getting warmer, flowers on the great lawn were blooming, and Caleb was thriving.

That was, until the unthinkable happened.

Time? 2:19 PM. Class? CHEM 001 AH. Location? The Grand Hall.

Caleb sat directly behind you, having resigned himself to the second best seat in the room, as the sound of pencils scratching against paper filled the otherwise quiet space.

Taking practice exams felt pointless. A waste of time, really. His efforts could be better spent elsewhere—like taking the real exam or absolutely demolishing his roommate Zayne in Apex Legends yet again. But instead, here he was, surrounded by classmates diligently scribbling away as the session inched closer to its eventual end.

And when it did, Caleb would have simply packed up and gone on his merry way—if not for the single most bone-chilling sentence he had ever heard in his entire academic career.

You were chatting with the girl beside you, talking about things he had zero interest in. Your shared biology class at 3 PM, your dorm building, plans to meet up at the dining hall later… blah blah blah. But then—an acronym. A single, horrific acronym triggered him like a sleeper agent.

“My GPA? Oh, it’s… 4.30. I think. To be honest, it’s been a while since I checked.”

His jaw went slack. His eyes widened. The color drained from his face.

A 4.30 GPA? No. No. That couldn’t be real. That could not be real.

But as his gaze flickered between the back of your head and your friend’s, he came to the most horrifying conclusion of all.

You weren’t lying. And if that were true… then that meant you had the same GPA he did.

Which meant that, depending on your course load and how well you performed, you could take his spot as number one in the class rank.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Caleb burst into his dorm room, slinging his backpack onto his mattress before face-planting into it with a sound somewhere between a groan and a hmph.

Across the room, Zayne didn’t even glance up from his desk, fingers tapping away at his mounted laptop. Click, clack. Click, clack. For a stretch of time, that was the only sound in the room—until he finally exhaled, the kind of quiet sigh that could only mean here we go again.

“Rough day?”

Caleb didn’t even hesitate. “The worst day.”

Zayne closed his eyes for a moment, like he was mentally preparing himself, before pushing away from his desk and turning his chair just enough to look at his roommate. “What happened?”

Still face-down on the bed, Caleb let out a long, exaggerated sigh—nowhere near as silent as Zayne’s. “I think I have to take trig next semester. Honors.”

That made Zayne pause. Brow quirked, he leaned back. “Why? Your counselor quite literally said you’re already on track to graduate with honors and as one of the top-ranked students in our year.”

That was the problem, though. Caleb wasn’t satisfied with being one of the best. He wanted to be the best—and now, that source of pride was under attack.

“Well, that was before I found out I’m sharing a GPA with some girl in my chem lecture,” he said, rolling onto his back to stare blankly at the ceiling. “Which means if I don’t get my shit together and pack on a few more honors courses, I’m cooked.”

Zayne laughed. Actually laughed. Shaking his head, he turned back to his desk, plucked his glasses off the mousepad, and slid them on. “You should hear yourself right now.”

Caleb’s head snapped to the side, eyebrows pinching together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s just amusing, is all.” Zayne smirked. “I find it endearing that you, Mr. ‘I can skip the final and still pass with a 94%,’ Mr. ‘I think I might take astronomy honors for fun this semester,’—”

“All riiight, I get it,” Caleb cut in. “What’s your point?”

Zayne snickered, amused. “My point is that if you of all people feel threatened by a classmate you hardly know, maybe there’s a reason for that.”

Caleb hated that there was probably some truth to that. Not that he’d ever admit it. Being threatened by a classmate he barely knew? Please. He knew enough. (And yes, he had meticulously sifted through the entire roster of his chemistry class to stalk your Canvas profile. What? It’s… field research.)

“Y’know, you’re terrible at pep talks,” he muttered, folding his hands behind his head.

“I’m not trying to be,” Zayne replied easily. “But if you want my input—take the trig course next semester. Something tells me you’ll need it.”

Caleb rolled onto his side, fishing his laptop from his backpack as the weight of his evening workload settled in.

And maybe Zayne was right.

Maybe he would need all the help he could get.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

It wasn’t until six days later—today—that Caleb knew for certain fate was no longer on his side.

The professor’s voice cut through the shuffle of students packing up their belongings, all of which were currently praying that their first lab of the semester wouldn’t be a complete and utter disaster. It was a well known fact that Dr. Rappaccini was quite the harsh critic, and an even harsher grader. Her score on Rate My Professors was a whopping 2.8/5 for crying out loud.

“Alright, it’s time for you all to receive your lab partners for the semester. Before heading to the lab next door, please check the list of pairings at the front.”

Luckily, Caleb had committed the syllabus to memory and knew that each person was scored individually no matter how their partner performed, but it was recommended that the pair conduct their experiments together to save time and... okay, maybe he hadn’t memorized it as well as he thought, but at least he knew the core details, right?

Scanning the list, his blood ran cold. He squinted, hoping that the prescription of his glasses had failed him, but of course, it was unmistakable. Your name was printed next to his. Emboldened, unignorable, in a perfectly neutral 12 pt Times New Roman font.

The walk to the laboratory was a quiet one, and you were walking a few feet ahead of him without a care in the world. Reaching for the door handle, he twisted the metallic lever and gestured for you to enter ahead of him with a single nod of his head. It was a force of habit. He may not care for you as an academic peer, but you didn't directly wrong him in any way. Not knowingly, that is.

With a curt nod of your own and a sliver of a smile, you entered the class with a quiet “thank you.”

And before he could follow in step behind you, the neverending line of your fellow classmates began to flood into the room, leaving him to stand idle while offering each of them a thin-lipped smile. It felt like an eternity before he was able to step inside of the laboratory too, and his first instinct was to map out the classroom to find the best possible seating arrangement. 

To his surprise… you’d already claimed the most optimal lab station, and as he approached, you made the first move to speak. 

“I hope you’re okay with sitting here,” you say, fishing out your sleek notebook and a bright blue pencil. “It’s the only lab station with equal access to the exit, the supplies cabinet, and the professor’s desk.”

Caleb raises an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side as bewilderment etches into his features. Were you inside of his brain? He clears his throat, shaking away his confusion as he nods. “Yeah, I’m alright with this spot. Good choice.” 

Smiling, you nod too. “Cool.” 

A beat of silence passes, and you smooth your hands over the black resin material of the table, a movement that his eyes instinctively follow. Then, your hand raises and extends out to him, forcing him to blink himself out of his state of daydreaming. 

You say your name while tilting your head with a smile—this time, a smile with teeth—as you wait for his hand to take yours. “And you’re… Xia?” 

Raising his eyebrows, he shakes his head while a chuckle slips through his carefully crafted exterior. “Caleb,” he corrects, his firm grasp enveloping your hand as he gives it a shake. “Caleb Xia.”

“Ah, got it,” you remark, an epiphany dawning on you as you slip your hand from his hold. “Well, I’m going to go get our safety goggles.” 

But before leaving, you straightened, eyes glued to him—or rather, his head.

Huffing out a laugh through his nose, Caleb’s lip tugs up in the corner. “What are you doing?”

Tapping your chin, you sigh. “I’m trying to see if you have a big head. If you do, I’ll have to go fight tooth and nail for one of the ones with adjustable straps.” 

Rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm, he rests his elbow on the edge of the table before leaning his cheek into his hand. “Well, lay it on me. What’s your diagnosis?”

Humming, you tilt your head back and forth before nodding your head a single time. “Big-head syndrome. I’m positive.”

Caleb’s eyes crinkle as he laughs. “I should take that as a compliment. Big head means big brain, you know.”

“Or a big ego,” you retort with a shrug, giving him a once-over with raised brows before whisking away towards the horde of students currently going to war over the remaining pick of the litter. 

Yeah, that too, he thinks. 

In your absence, he takes the liberty of prepping the lab for the both of you. Beakers? Check. Random substance that the two of you were going to be experimenting on? Check. Hydrochloric acid? Check. Sodium bicarbonate? Check—

“Safety goggles,” you state, plopping down on your stool and handing his pair to him.

Without missing a beat, he speaks. “Check.”

Drawing back slightly, you turn to look at him with an arched eyebrow. “Uh… yeah. Check.”

Faltering, Caleb slides the item onto his face as he stammers through his words. “I was just… never mind, let’s start.”

The class had settled into a low hum—the murmur of newly paired partners, the scribbling of notes, the soft hiss of chemicals reacting. 

As the two of you began the experiment, an incredibly prominent conclusion dawned on him: Disliking you as a person wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped. As a competitor? You were treacherous. As a lab partner? You were… tolerable. Efficient. Annoyingly easy to work with. 

It wasn’t the end result that he was hoping for, if he were to be entirely honest with himself. He wanted you to be difficult to be around, he wanted you to be stuck up, he wanted you to give him a genuine reason to dislike you apart from being the root of his newfound insecurity. But you weren’t, and that was a problem. 

“Pass me the baking soda?” you ask.

“The sodium bicarbonate?”

“Yeah. The baking soda.”

Caleb tilts his head with a smile. “Also known as sodium bicarbonate.”

You glance his way, and your eyes met. “Congrats, big guy. You know big words. Now pass it.”

“Sure thing, boss.” Biting back a smile, he hands it over, only to retract it at the last second. “Wait. What’s it called again?”

Your force smile was all teeth. “Sodium bicarbonate.”

Finally relenting, Caleb places the bowl in your orbit with a triumphant grin. 

He was smart enough to know that this was a bad idea. Despite how easily the two of you worked together, he knew that he couldn’t entertain this any further. You weren’t just his classmate, his peer—you were his competition. And while he’s heard the saying keep your friends close, but your enemies closer just as many times as the next person, he knows that mixing any ounce of developing friendship with his pursuit for greatness would be wrong.

It would work best that way. You can’t be friends, and that’s okay.

And for the first time in what felt like ages, fate seemed to agree with him.

“Hmm,” Caleb soon rumbles, squinting at the beaker. “This isn’t lookin’ too good. You said you added the sodium bicarbonate, yeah?”

You frown, glancing up from your notes. Your stomach twists at the sight of the clock—barely any time left before the lab ends. The professor would be making her rounds any second now.

“What? I didn’t add it. You said you added it.”

Caleb flits his gaze to the side of your face. “No, I added hydrochloric acid.”

Your head snaps toward him so fast he was surprised it didn’t snap right off. “No, I added hydrochloric acid.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

You exhale sharply, frustration creeping up your neck. “How are you gonna tell me what I did or didn’t do?”

Your pulse ticks up a bit faster than it naturally should, and your eyes rose up from the glass cylinder. Around the room, students were already wrapping up their conclusions while the two of you hadn’t even finished the experiment. You suck in a breath and push up from your stool.

“Fine. Fine. Can you just pass me the baking soda?”

Caleb nods, handing over the pre-measured bowl of sodium bicarbonate. While you worked to fix the mess, he jotted down a few quick notes. You added just enough of the powder to neutralize the acid—but not smother it completely.

And then? Silence. The two of you sat. Watching. Waiting. Hoping. Praying.

Then, miraculously, the beaker decided to behave and the fizzing subsided.

Like clockwork, you both exhaled, shoulders slumping as small, victorious smiles tugged at your mouths—

Until yours vanished entirely. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Caleb falters, eyes narrowing. “I didn’t say thank you.”

“Well, you should have.”

“Why? If I hadn’t pointed out the weird reaction, we’d have been screwed.”

“Oh? If I hadn’t realized neither of us added the sodium bicarbonate—which was your responsibility, by the way—we would’ve actually been screwed.”

Tension thickened between you like a drawn bowstring. You clench your jaw and look away, scribbling down your final observations. Stupid man, you thought to yourself. And here you were, actually believing that this semester wouldn’t be a total shitshow, that maybe, just maybe, you’d gotten lucky.

Unfortunately not.

Then, your attention was caught by something out of the ordinary. Your gaze lands on his neck, and your breath hitched. Staring back at you was a small, multi-legged beady eyed monster. Sticking out your pointer finger, you still find yourself instinctively drawing back, as if it were out to get you next. “There’s a spider on—”

But before you could finish your sentence, Caleb winced, his veins tightening as he instinctively flicked the eight-legged menace off. You sucked your teeth, drumming your fingers on the table. So much for your timely warning.

Glancing his way, your brows elevate as you see the already forming bite mark on his neck. “Yikes. It got you good.”

“Did it?” he asks, raising a hand to rub over the mark with narrowed eyes. “Hm. Guess so, yeah.”

Reluctantly, you ask, “Are you okay?” 

With a nod, he picks up his pencil once more and works on finishing the last of his lab report. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Sighing airily, you can’t help the smile that tugs on your mouth. “Poor spider, being flicked through the air like that.”

Like routine, Caleb shot a glare your way. “Funny.”

“Thanks.”

With that, you left for the washing station. Meanwhile, Dr. Rappaccini stood from her desk, making her rounds. It was in that moment that a shrill of panic shot up his spine—the stimulation foreign, unfamiliar, and… terrifying. 

He could feel his heart rate shooting through the roof, a sweat break on his forehead, and his fingertips flex at his sides—all things that he wasn’t even conscious of. And before he knew it, he was glancing in your direction, noting that you were distracted. Good.

With a quick ease, he snatched up your notepad and erased a few numbers, replacing them with subtle, logicless mistakes. 34? Now a 26. 32 to the power of 5? Not anymore.

It wasn’t his proudest moment. Sabotaging his own lab partner’s work? Definitely not.

Ten seconds. That’s all it took to ruin you just enough. He slid the notepad back into place, brushing away the eraser shavings. Like clockwork, you returned, none the wiser.

Exhaling softly, you turned to him. “Look, I just wanted to say that—”

“Now, you two,” Dr. Rappaccini’s voice cut you off.

You both turned as she scanned and picked up Caleb’s report, making a few marks with her fine-pointed marker before sliding it back into place. You glanced over, making note of his grade. 94.

Then, she picked up yours. A moment later, she handed it back. Your professor held up a roll of stickers, tearing two off before setting them down on the table.

Despite the vibrant designs on the stickers, your stomach dropped. Your grade was big, bold, and unmistakable. 82.

“Wait—Dr. Rappaccini,” you call after her, staring at the page with widened eyes of shock. “I… I don’t understand. What did I do wrong?”

“Well, your experiment was solid—your observations were well-written, and your documentation was precise. But your math?” She sighs. “Completely off.” A beat of silence. Then, a smile. “Don’t feel discouraged. You’re a good student as you are—no need to compare your scores to others.”

The implication was clear. She thought you were smart—just not as smart as Caleb.

Huffing, you toss your notebook onto the table, fingers curling against the edge of it.

“You got cut off earlier,” he says casually, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “What were you sayin’?”

Blinking, you tried to retrace your thoughts. “Oh, yeah… I was just saying that…”

Your voice trails, eyes drifting to your lab report. Caleb caught the flicker of realization dawning on you—and when you turned to him, his not-so-hidden grin said it all.

“I was just saying,” you snap, “that you’re an asshole whose handwriting looks like a drunk chicken clawed at my report.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he says with a shrug, peeling off his sticker to plaster it onto your shoulder. “Good luck on the exam tomorrow morning.”

And with that, he walks out of the lab.

“Yeah, you too,” you murmur, though he was already gone before he could hear the hissed “bitch” that followed.

Irritation pricks at your skin as you stuff—more like shove—your belongings into your backpack. Prick. So much for not knowing the single person you were beneath in the class ranks.

Guilt stirred in his chest as he walked towards his dorm building… but only a little.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

By the time Caleb stumbled back to his dorm, he felt like he’d been hit by a freight train.

He barely managed to push the door open before kicking off his shoes, letting his backpack slump to the floor with a heavy thud. His head swam, his breath uneven as he widened his eyes in a feeble attempt to stay awake. Slapping himself on the cheek, he quickly realized it was no use. His neck stung worse than it had when the spider first bit him, the dull throb pulsing beneath his fingertips as he rubbed over the puncture point.

"Are you drunk?" Zayne’s voice drifts from across the room.

"No," Caleb mutters, face buried in his pillow. "Just… tired. Really tired."

He sank into the thin mattress like dead weight, the springs groaning beneath him. With sluggish hands, he pulled his glasses from his face and tossed them onto the bedside table, missing by an inch. His breathing grew heavier, his skin slick with cold sweat. His pupils—blown wide as saucers—fluttered shut as he barely mustered the strength to tug his shirt over his head and toss it aside.

And within seconds, he was out like a light.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

The morning sun sliced through the blinds, painting golden stripes across Caleb’s bare back as he jolted awake.

His chest rose and fell in sharp, erratic breaths, but despite the abruptness of it all, he felt… alert. Fully awake in a way that didn’t exactly make sense.

Blinking rapidly, he reached for his glasses and slid them onto his face with a groggy groan. And then—he froze.

His vision was still blurry.

Frowning, he pulled his glasses off, breathed onto the lenses, and wiped them against his bedsheet. When he slid them back on—blurry again. He pulled them down. Clear. Glasses up. Blurry. Glasses down. Clear.

He stares at them in his hands. “...Weird.”

Setting the frames down, he threw his legs over the bed and staggered toward his closet—only to catch sight of his reflection in the mirror. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

Since when the hell did he have abs?

He flexed instinctively, stomach tensing under his own scrutiny. Then his gaze trailed up—to his arms. His biceps. His shoulders.

Turning, twisting, he inspected every angle of himself like a stranger in his own skin. He’d been in shape before, sure, but this? This was different. He would’ve noticed this.

Knuckles rapped against the door, making him flinch.

“Caleb? Are you awake? I forgot my key.” A pause. Then, “Are you feeling any better? You slept like a log last night—perhaps you’re catching a bug.”

"A bug?" Caleb echoes under his breath, flexing again just to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “Holy shit… Uh, yeah, man, I’m good. Just—gimme a sec.”

Turning back toward his desk, he reached for his chair, only meaning to push it aside—but the moment his palm touched the wood, it stuck.

His brows furrow.

He yanks once. Then again.

Nothing.

His heartbeat quickens as he curls his fingers, attempting to lift his hand—and instead, he lifts the entire chair clean off the ground.

“What the—” His stomach drops. He waved his hand. The chair waved with it. Up. Down. Side to side. Still stuck.

“Caleb?” Zayne calls from the other side of the door.

Caleb whips his head toward the sound, panic tightening in his throat. Shit. He bolted across the room—chair still attached to his palm—and somehow managed to unlock the door just as Zayne strode in.

Zayne, clearly in a rush, barely spared him a glance as he grabbed a stack of papers from his desk, clipped them together, and breezed back out with a nod.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Caleb exhaled sharply—only to realize his hand was still stuck… to the doorknob.

Huffing, he gave it a firm tug, expecting it to pop free. Instead, the entire knob wrenched out of the door, hinges snapping with a loud crack.

"Shit."

He barely had time to process before his body betrayed him once again—this time, with a sharp thwip.

A thick strand of silk shot from his wrist, attaching him to his bedpost.

His pulse stuttered. 

"What. The. Fuck."

Another sharp tug. Another web. More panic. Before he knew it, his dorm room looked like a crime scene from some horror movie—threads of silk stretching from walls to furniture to the ceiling.

His gaze snapped to the clock on his desk. 12:56 PM.

"Alright," he mutters, inhaling deeply. "Exam starts in four minutes. I’m sticking to everything I touch. I’m half-naked. Cool, cool, cool."

But nothing about this was cool.

If anyone in the history of Linkon University could take an exam like this, it was going to be him.

series masterlist. ┆ next: soon!

a/n like & reblog if you enjoyed!! this was really fun to write :) also i should’ve mentioned it rly isnt specified how old reader is, just that she’s in college and just starting her second semester at linkon university :) she can be a transfer student (which is kinda what i had in mind), a first year, etc lol it doesn’t really matter bc i’m fine with that being a “plot hole”

i could not stop laughing while writing this at 4am bc i was just imagining caleb coming up with an elaborate ass internalized beef with reader and she’s just sitting in her chem lab like

taglist. (join it by commenting under this post)

@leonskenthusiast @universallysoulcreator @devonjs-blog @lacieohlacie @kisswithyoureyesclosed @lovesick-sylus @livonianmaia @hqnge @yuuuumii @mizzfizz @simpfortheseven @nyxthejinx-rantsaboutlads @mariojins @rcvcngers @yizhoupilled @irlsammy @gloomuri671 @risagichi @drinking2nite @seikamuzu @flowers-wilt-on-juniper-lane

@that-one-scoundrel @joy-laufeyson @missaengg @wheatrice @gvenone @desiree-archive @jayhyunglover @flwerie @miffysoo @jijijihanji @ssetsuka @mglwhor3 @sureconfused @vorfreudevortex @honehbee42 @angelbeat994 @codedove @cheesemachine44 @mocha-the-muse @msanimeotaku181 @breadiestpuffs @idkwhatursayinh @hannahchk @rxelarailuj @littlebabyypeach @wooasecret @nikilig @theweevilofsweetreef @etsuniiru

"A Wolf At My Window"

synopsis: Childhood friend Caleb pays you a visit in the middle of the night. word count: 1.8k notes: This is the first fic I've posted in a long long time (so nervous!!), but I want to post more Love and Deepspace Vocaloid song fics so.... I was listening to Romeo and Cinderella by Doriko and could not stop thinking about Caleb to this song so... Enjoy your food freaks. warnings: Forbidden love, friends to lovers, Juliet complex, childhoodfriend!Caleb, naive reader, love and obsession, coming of age, rebellion, not beta read we die like granny?

ロミオとシンデレラ

0:58 ──♡───── 4:41

Caleb had always been there. In the morning when the sky bled with pink and gold hues, waiting for you outside the door. At school, where his laughter was a shield, making sure no one saw how you shrunk under the attention. In the evening, when the soft glow of the lamp on your bedside was often shared with his silhouette, leaning against the frame while he teases you for reading romance novels instead of studying.

For years, he had been your constant. Your safe place. And maybe that's why you haven't questioned why his presence felt heavier than normal lately. Or why his gaze lingered too long. Why, when you met his eyes, you felt something tightening in your chest that had nothing to do with comfort.

Tonight, he wasn't waiting by the door. He wasn't teasing you about your choice of fiction, or ruffling your hair as he walked past. Tonight, Caleb was at the window.

You swallowed, gripping the edge of the blanket, staring at his silhouette through the glass. Your heart pounded. The rational part of you knew you should be started, maybe even a little scared. But you weren't.

With shaky fingers, you open the window.

"You know," you whispered, your voice barely above the wind, "normal people use the front door."

Caleb's lips curved as he pushed the window up further. His hands—big, sturdy—gripping the frame as he hoisted himself inside, "And normal people don't let in wolves after dark," he murmured, his voice lower than usual. Softer.

The air in the room changed.

He didn't step back. Didn't put any space between you two. Instead, he reached up, fingertips brushing against your cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. It was a simple touch. Barely anything. And yet, it felt like everything.

"Caleb—"

"Shh," he whispered. You froze as his thumb traced your jaw, tilting your chin up. "You always look away when I get too close."

You swallowed, "Well maybe you shouldn't get so close, then."

His smile deepened, but there was something unreadable in his expression. Something that sent a slow heat curling down your spine.

"That's the thing," he murmured, leaning down, his forehead nearly brushing against yours, "I don't think I can stop."

Your breath caught.

His other hand found your waist, fingers curling slightly—possessive, firm, like he wanted to make sure you didn't step away. But you weren't going to.

"How far can we venture tonight?" You whispered before you could stop myself.

Caleb stilled. His grip on your waist tightened just enough for you to feel the heat of his palm through the lace of your pink pajama top. Then, slowly, he smiled again. This time without amusement, without teasing.

"You tell me," he said, voice low, "but I'll warn you, I don't like being told to stop."

A soft shiver ran through you.

Your fingers curled against his chest, not pushing him away, but grounding yourself, "Be gentle," you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes, "I still don't like bitter tastes."

He exhaled, something like frustration flickered through his eyes. "Then don't tempt me."

You bit your lip.

And then his restraint snapped.

His lips found the corner of your mouth first, brushing, teasing, like he was waiting for you to push away. When you don't, he takes more. A slow, drawn-out kiss, his hands slide up, fingers pressing into the back of your back, pulling you closer. You barely had time to breathe before he kissed you again, hungrier this time, like he was trying to make up for all the times he held himself back.

When you break apart, you were breathless. Your head was spinning.

"Caleb," you whispered.

He studied you, something unreadable in his expression. Then, slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out. A silver chain. A delicate charm at the end.

You frowned. "What's that?"

"A promise," he murmured, lifting it, carefully fastening it around your wrist. "That I won't let anyone take you away."

You swallowed. "That sounds more like a collar than a promise."

His lips twitched, but his grip on your wrist was steady. "Same thing, isn't it?"

You should've been alarmed. You should've questioned him.

But as you looked at him—the boy who had always been there, who had always protected you, who had always wanted more but never dared to ask—you realised something.

You didn't want to run.

Not from him.

Not tonight.

Maybe not ever.

The thought should've scared you. Should've made you take a step back, regain some distance. But you didn't move. Instead, you let your fingers brush around your wrist. The metal was cool against your skin, delicate, but firm. A promise, he had said. A collar, you had called it.

Maybe it was both.

You looked up at him, at the way his purple eyes burned in the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You had never thought of him as dangerous before. But now, standing here in the silence, the window still cracked open, letting in the cold night air, you realised—

He was the wolf if your story.

Not the prince.

Not the hero.

But the one who came I through the window instead of the door.

And you weren't stopping him.

His fingers traced the inside of your wrist, right where your pulse fluttered. He hadn't let go since he put the chain on you.

“You’re quiet,” Caleb murmured, watching you too closely.

You wet your lips. “I’m thinking.”

A slow, knowing smile. “About what?”

You hesitated. “About how my dad doesn’t like you.”

Caleb exhaled through his nose, like he expected that answer. “That’s nothing new.”

"He's going to notice if I start wearing this." you held up your wrist, the chain glinting in the low light.

His fingers curled around your wrist. "So don't take it off."

"Caleb—"

"I mean it." He pulled you closer, voice soft but firm, "It suits you."

You swallowed. "That's not the point. You know what he's like. If he founds out—"

"I don't care."

His voice wasn't sharp. Wasn't loud. But it cut through the air between you all the same. You felt your stomach twist, my breath catch. "You're not the one who has to deal with him."

His jaw tensed, "No. But I could take you away from it all."

You froze.

He wasn't teasing.

He wasn't being playful.

He meant it.

And for a single, wild moment—you wanted to say yes.

You wanted to be like those girls in the stories, the ones who ran away with their prince charming, who let themselves be carried off before the clock struck twelve. The ones who didn't have the think about their father's disappointment, or their mother's worried sighs, or the way everyone expected them to be good, obedient, reasonable

But this wasn't a fairy tale. Real life wasn't a fairy tale.

You stepped back. Just a little. Just enough for your back to hit the edge of your desk. "You're talking I'm some princess locked in a tower."

"Arent you?"

You glared. "I have a life here. A family. You can't just take me away."

Caleb studied you for a moment. Then, finally, he exhaled and let go of your wrist, his touch leaving behind the phantom warmth of his touch. "Fine," he said, too easily. "Then let me be the one who stays."

You frowned. "What?"

"You heard me." His expression softened, but there was something dangerous under the surface. "I won't take you anywhere. But I'll make sure no one else does either."

Yet another shiver runs down your spine. "That's not how this works."

He tilted his head. "Then how does it work?"

You hesitated.

Because deep down.. you knew.

If you told him to stop, if you told him to leave, he would.

But you didn't want him to.

You just didn't know if you could handle what it would mean if he stayed.

"I don't want to be someone's Juliet." You muttered, not looking at him.

Caleb let out a low chuckle. "I know. I'm not asking you to be."

My stomach twisted again. "Then what are you asking?"

Silence.

And then—

His fingers brushed under your chin, tilting your face up.

"Stay with me." He murmured, voice low, steady. "That's all."

Stay with me.

Not run away with me.

Not be mine.

Just stay.

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

Because if you said yes. I knew this wouldn't be some fleeting thing. Caleb wasn't someone who let go. He wasn't someone who would let you change your mind later.

If you stayed—truly stayed—then you were his.

And the worst part?

You wanted to be.

Caleb's hands were warm, steady. His presence wrapped around me like a vice, unyielding, inescapable. But even as your breath caught in your throat, as his fingers dug into your waist just enough to make you aware of his weight, your mind drifted, pulled back by the ghosts of childhood, by something so simple, so innocent.

Caramels.

Your mother used to make them from scratch, stirring the golden syrup over the stove, the scent of butter and sugar thick in the air. She would hum while she worked, the same old tune she'd sung to you as a child, and when the caramel had cooled just enough, she'd cut them into little squares, wrapping each one in wax paper.

They were soft, sweet, melting on your tongue in an instant. A taste that lingered, that filled my mouth with warmth and comfort.

Caleb used to steal them when we were kids. He'd wait until Mom wasn't looking, grab one from the counter, and flash you a smug little grin. "Don't tell," he'd whisper, voice thick with mischief.

You never did.

You still remembered the way he'd look at you after taking a bite—chewing slow, savouring the flavour—before offering you the other half.

Sweet things should be shared, right?

But that was the thing about caramel, wasn't it? It was easy to choke on if you weren't careful. Too rich, too thick, too overwhelming.

And now, with Caleb pressing you against the desk, his body so close, his hands so firm, you felt like you were choking again—on something just as intoxicating, just as dangerous.

He wasn't offering something soft this time.

He wasn't giving you the last half.

He was taking.

And you still weren't stopping him.

"Tell me you don't want this." His voice was low, rough against your ear. "Tell me to leave and I will."

You swallowed hard, your fingers curling into his shirt. "Caleb..."

He waited. Patient, like he always was. But you could feel the tension in him, the way his grip tightened, like he already knew you wouldn't say it.

Because he knew you.

He had always known you.

And maybe that's why you had never been afraid of him.

Even now, when you knew—knew—that this wasn't something you could undo, that crossing this invisible boundary meant there was no going back, you still weren't afraid.

Because Caleb had always been there.

At every birthday. At every graduation. Through every stupid heartbreak, through every moment you'd felt alone.

He had been there, waiting.

And now, as your heart pounded in your chest, as his fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against your hip, you realised something terrifying.

You'd been waiting too.

Dividers by @cafekitsune